At length, after a walk of about six miles, he found himself rising above the haunts of men, though not beyond their observation. He now enveloped himself in the white garment, which covered his burthen as well as himself, put a lump of sugar in his mouth, and pursued his way over the frozen snow; looking like a snow-wreath himself. Suddenly he perceived footprints in various directions. "Some one has been here lately," thought he: "this outer crust has not long been crushed. Yet who, without a purpose, would be here but the wolf or bear?" Turning the angle of a rock, he ran against a man, who uttered a shriek, and sprang backwards, throwing out his hands, and exclaiming-- "Avaunt, spirit of the mountain!" Rudolf, instantly perceiving that his extraordinary costume had made him mistaken for something supernatural, would have seized his advantage by rushing past with a flourish of his arms, and a wild, terrific cry; but unfortunately his white drapery fell off. "Why, it's Rudolf!" exclaimed Franz, relieved. "Franz!" cried Rudolf, in alarm and displeasure. "What are you about here?" "What are _you_ about, you mean?" retorted Franz. "One question's as good as another. To whom are you carrying that basket?" "That's no matter of yours!" "I _know_. You can have but one object, and that's to go to the Sandwirth." "Look ye, Franz," said Rudolf, boiling over with rage, and setting down his burthen: "this won't do to go any further. Who are you, to interfere with my objects, whatsoever they may be? We'll have it out on this spot. I've got on my wrestling-ring;" exhibiting a very thick silver ring on the little finger of his right hand; "and, if you choose to persist in this matter, we'll try a fall together, and I'll pitch you afterwards into the bottomless lake." As Rudolf suited the action to the word, by flourishing his fists and bounding towards him, Franz stepped aside in affright. He knew that the loss of an eye, an ear, or a nose, often resulted from these national combats; and his fear of Rudolf's prowess was such, that nothing short of death, to his belief, would ensue to him if he accepted the challenge. As for the bottomless lake,--which was a sullen piece of water in a neighbouring basin, reported to be fed by no springs and have no outlet for its waters; to be uninfluenced by the winds, and, when affronted by having anything cast into it, to blow up little tempests and thunder-storms of its own,--Franz had a profound horror of it, and was at this moment very unwillingly detained in its vicinity. Therefore, succumbing before Rudolf at once, he querulously cried--