The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 08: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English
General
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 08: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
The boy told his little sister his thought and she followed him.
But the way down to the "neck" was not to be found.
However clear the sun shone, however beautifully the snowy heights stood
there, and the fields of snow lay there, yet they could not recognize
the places over which they had come the day before. Yesterday, all had
been veiled by the immense snowfall, so they had scarcely seen a couple
of feet ahead of them, and then all had been a mingled white and gray.
They had seen only the rocks along and between which they had passed;
but today also they had seen many rocks and they all resembled those
they had seen the day before. Today, they left fresh tracks behind them
in the snow; yesterday, all tracks had been obliterated by the falling
snow. Neither could they gather from the aspect of things which way they
had to return to the "neck," since all places looked alike. Snow and
snow again. But on they marched and hoped to succeed in the end. They
avoided the declivities and did not attempt to climb steep slopes.
Today also they frequently stood still to listen; but they heard
nothing, not the slightest sound. Neither was anything to be seen
excepting the dazzling snow from which emerged, here and there, black
peaks and ribs of rock.
At last the boy thought he saw a flame skipping over a far-away
snow-slope. It bobbed up and dipped down again. Now they saw it, and
then again they did not. They remained standing and steadfastly gazed in
that direction. The flame kept on skipping up and down and seemed to be
approaching, for they saw it grow bigger and skipping more plainly. It
did not disappear so often and for so long a time as before. After
awhile they heard in the still blue air faintly, very faintly, something
like the long note of a shepherd's horn. As if from instinct, both
children shouted aloud. A little while, and they heard the sound again.
They shouted again and remained standing on the same spot. The flame
also came nearer. The sound was heard for the third time, and this time
more plainly. The children answered again by shouting loudly. After some
time, they also recognized that it was no flame they had seen but a red
flag which was being swung. At the same time the shepherd's horn
resounded closer to them and the children made reply.
"Sanna," cried the boy, "there come people from Gschaid. I know the
flag, it is the red flag that the stranger gentleman planted on the
peak, when he had climbed the Gars with the young hunter, so that the
reverend father could see it with his spyglass, and that was to be the
sign that they had reached the top, and the stranger gentleman gave him
the flag afterward as a present. You were a real small child, then."
"Yes, Conrad."
After awhile the children could also see the people near the flag, like
little black dots that seemed to move. The call of the horn came again
and again, and ever nearer. Each time, the children made answer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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