On quitting the tavern, the old man having taken the road that lay through the valley to ascend the summit of the Hirschberg, his sons followed him. They soon reached the outskirts of the wood. Materne then said that they must climb to the greatest possible height, in order to discover the plain, and bring back positive news to the camp, for that all the reports of those fugitives were not worth the testimony of a single eye-witness. Kasper and Frantz agreed with him, and they all three began to scale the side of the mountain, which in this part formed a sort of promontory overlooking the plain. When they had reached the summit, they saw distinctly the position of the enemy, about three leagues off, between Urmatt and Lutzelhouse; they looked like great black lines upon the snow; farther off were to be seen some dark masses, no doubt the artillery and the baggage. Other masses were to be discerned round about the villages, and, in spite of the distance, the glitter of bayonets announced that a column had just set out on the march for Visch. Having contemplated this picture for a long time with a thoughtful eye, the old man said: "We have down there a good thirty thousand men under our very eyes. They are advancing on our side; we shall be attacked to-morrow, or the day after, at the very latest. This will be no trifling affair, my lads; but if they've the advantage of numbers, we have in position; and then it's always best to fire on a mass; there's sure to be no balls lost." Having made these judicious reflections, he looked up to observe at what height the sun was, and added: "It is now two o'clock; we know all we want to know. Let us return to the camp." The two lads swung their carbines over their shoulders, and leaving on their left the valley of the Brocque, Schirmeck, and Framont, they ascended the steep acclivity of the Hengsbach, overlooked at two leagues' distance by the Little Donon. They re-descended on the other side without following any footpath through the snow, only tracing their course over the mountain tops as the shortest way to reach their journey's end. They had proceeded thus for about two hours; the winter sun was sinking in the horizon; night was approaching; night, but bright and calm. They had now only to descend, and remount, on the other side, the solitary gorge of the Reil, forming a large circular basin in the midst of the woods, and enclosing a little dark pool, where the wild roe sometimes came to slake their thirst. All at once, as they were striding along, thinking of nothing in particular, the old man, suddenly stopping behind a curtain of shrubs, said, "Hush!"