CHAPTER XIV.
TROUBLED WATERS.
FOUR men, two of whom wore the brown serge gowns of Capuchins, might have been seen, on the fourth of June, sitting on the bank of a foaming river, and presently rising in stilts from the pebbly bed of the river itself, sounding their way in advance, as they crossed it, by the aid of long poles. These were Hofer, Eisenstecken, Father Joachim, and Father Peter, on their way to Rattenberg, where they were to meet Hormayr, Baron Taxis, the engineer Hauser, and the chiefs of the lower Innthal. At this time, the Inn was so swollen by recent and heavy rains, as to be both difficult and dangerous to cross; but the bridges had all been destroyed during the warfare, and our friends had only this hazardous mode of fording the river.
"I'm going!" cried Father Peter, in alarm, as the running water, flashing in the sun, dazzled his eye.
"Why, brother, didst never walk on stilts before?" cried Father Joachim, catching him by the arm, and heartily laughing. "Shame on you for a faint heart. Steady, steady. Don't upset me, though, good brother."
"Or I may chance to get a rap on the head with that staff," muttered Father Peter. "There! I'm out of the perilous waters at last,—the most dangerous voyage I ever undertook."
Saying which, he scrambled out on the other bank, giving a lurch, however, as he did so, which entangled his stilt in one of Father Joachim's, and nearly gave him a ducking. The excellent Capuchin turned exceedingly red, but suppressed his wrath, if he felt any, merely observing, "Thou deservest a crack on the pate most assuredly, good brother!"
Then, having burst into a jolly laugh, that made the hills ring again, he suddenly stopped short, wiped his eyes, and went on, silent as night; till at length he said to Hofer—