Having rested an hour in the inn, we set out again, accompanied by our host, who volunteered to show us both a shorter and more pleasant path than that which we had heretofore followed. This was the more acceptable by reason of the discovery which we made, that in speaking of Aderspach as only four hours' walk from Troutenau, our host of the latter place had erred widely from the mark. It was still four good hours' ahead of us. Nevertheless, we had plenty of daylight before us; and the prospect of using it among green fields and umbrageous forests was not without its effect on the minds of persons who had toiled throughout the morning along a dusty and burning high-road.
Though I have, perhaps, said more respecting the scenery of this part of Bohemia than was necessary, I cannot omit to mention, that from the brow of a hill which we ascended soon after our host quitted us, we obtained as glorious a view of a cultivated mountain district as the eye of man will probably rest upon in any quarter of the world. The abundant wood of this fine country gives, indeed, to all its landscapes, a charm which there needs but the presence of water to complete, and to the particular scene on which we now looked down, water happened not to be wanting. From the bosom of the river which flows past Troutenau, the sun's rays were reflected; and as its course lay through groves and fells,—now hidden between overhanging rocks, now emerging again into a wide valley,—the effect was altogether very striking. Moreover, to a varied and picturesque extent of hill and vale, forest and green meadow, hamlet and town,—the latter either cast into the recess of some deep glen, or straggling upwards along the mountain side,—the Riesengebirgen formed the back ground; bald, and frowning in all the majesty of rocky shoulders and snow-clad summits. It was, indeed, a glorious view, and it tempted us to linger so long in the enjoyment of it, that we did not reach our quarters,—the comfortable inn at Aderspach,—till near eight o'clock.
There befel nothing during our progress from this beautiful spot, till we arrived at the place where we had resolved to pass the night, of which I need be expected to give a detailed account. All travellers on foot, through strange countries, must expect to lose their way occasionally; and we formed no exception to the general rule. Moreover, our mishaps, this day, were the more provoking, that we chanced to have penetrated into a comparatively thinly-peopled region, the two villages which we traversed lying far apart one from the other, and there being no hamlets nor detached houses to keep up the communication. Nor were we, as it seemed, the only pedestrians to whom the district was strange. As we were passing through a deep forest, at a point admirably suited to deeds of violence, we met a couple of Torpindas, who stopped us to inquire the way to the nearest town; at least I conclude that this was their object, from the peculiar gestures which they used, and the intonation which they gave to their voices; for as to their words, of these I could make nothing. Having just been stuffed with a tale of their lawless habits, the sight of these persons threw me, of course, on the alert. I grasped the butt of my gaff-stick,—an excellent weapon, about the length and weight of a policeman's staff,—and braced up my nerves for the melée. But when we stood face to face, all idea that they would venture to begin the fray vanished. Though they were young men, in the prime of life, probably not more than five or six-and-twenty, I verily believe, that with the weapons which nature has given me, I could have rendered them both incapable of molesting henroosts for ever, and been but little fatigued by the exercise.
The Torpindas passed on quietly enough when they found that they could not make themselves understood; and there followed them soon afterwards, another foot-passenger, whose style of travel amused us not a little. He was a stout, elderly man, arrayed in a brown frock coat, long and loose, and descending to his ankles, and he trudged forward with a good cudgel in his hand, as independently as need be. But he carried no load on his back. On the contrary, there followed him a peasant with a wheelbarrow, on which was laid the stout gentleman's trunk, and as they happened, when we encountered them, to be descending a hill, the strange vehicle kept up famously. How it would fare with them after they crossed the valley beneath, I do not know. But probably our friend had fixed stages, at each of which, instead of ordering out fresh horses, he ordered merely a fresh wheelbarrow and trundler. I dare say he journeyed with extreme satisfaction to himself; at least I am quite sure that he looked as if he did.
It was late in the evening, and our patience was well-nigh exhausted, when, on gaining the brow of an eminence, we beheld a straggling village at our feet; and were almost as much surprised as delighted to find that it was Aderspach. Let nobody form a judgment of the sort of quarters which he will find at the Trucktere-Gasthof, from the miserable appearance which the town of Aderspach presents. To be sure, he must pass through the town entirely, leave the schloss, a huge pile of brickwork, behind him, and penetrate into the fells ere the Trucktere-house becomes visible; but the first aspect of it will, unless I much deceive myself, excite in his mind anticipations, not only of good fare, but of clean apartments, and unpretending civility. Nor will such anticipations be disappointed. A nicer country inn I never inhabited, and I say this without excepting either the inn at Dalmally, near Loch Awe, nor its rival in comfort, if not in elegance, at Tyne-drom.
The Fells, or Felsen, at Aderspach, is justly accounted one of the most extraordinary productions of nature's handiwork in all Bohemia. Masses of rock, some of them two or three hundred feet in height, have, by some strange convulsion, been so tossed about, that now they stand on end like detached towers, or rather like the turreted walls of some gigantic labyrinth, through which a narrow path twists and turns in the most extraordinary manner possible. Very many of these rocks bear a striking resemblance, some to beasts, some to men, some to musical instruments, and others to different articles which we constantly meet either in our walks through the populous city, or within the domestic circle. As might be expected, the people of the country have called each image after the name of the original which it represents. Not far from the back door of the inn is an enormous inverted Sugar-loaf; a little way removed from it is the Chimney, and it must be acknowledged that the resemblance which both of them bear to the objects from which their names are derived, is very striking.
But this is the least of the wonders attaching to the place, in order to introduce which to the reader's acquaintance, it will be necessary that I should take him, as it were, by the hand, and join him to our little party as we make the tour of the labyrinth.
Suppose us, then, snugly housed in the Trucktere-house, well-fed, well attended, supplied with clean, tidy beds, and greatly refreshed by a sound night's sleep, such as monarchs might envy. We rise next morning at seven, to find that here, even more keenly than at Troutenau, the influence of an elevated situation is felt, and that over the long inclined plane which stretches upwards from us in the direction of the Riesengebirgen, a sharp, cold wind blows cuttingly. This circumstance, however, interferes, in no respect, with our breakfast, which, as far as the means furnished will allow, is eaten with great relish. After which, about nine o'clock, we sally forth in quest of adventures, under the guidance of a ragged youth, who is to officiate as our cicerone. From the inn-door we look abroad upon a mountain of basalts, covered on its summit by a forest of pines, and beautifully feathered along its face with birch-trees. That mountain, well nigh semicircular in the front which is turned towards us, constitutes the Felsen; and along its base we walk, following a narrow foot-path, which is bordered by a little stream, and leads, serpent-fashion, towards the rocks. We pass, in this brief progress, the Sugar-loaf; and observing the ravages which time is making on its inverted cone, we anticipate the hour, probably not very distant, when it will topple over, and fall flat upon the earth. But this is nothing. Our ragged guide conducts us across a wooden bridge, up a road, hollowed out by nature, through the rocks, till suddenly we reach what resembles the mouth of a mine, across which a door is drawn. The sum of four groschens, or sixpence a head, applies a key to the lock of that door, and we are immediately introduced into the giant's dwelling. For as the term Riesengebirgen signifies "The Giant's Mountains," so these fells are represented by tradition to have been the abode of the monster-man, after whom the range which separates Bohemia from Silesia has been named. Of this giant's personal history it is needless to say more, than that he is the same Number Nip with whose mischievous exploits we have all, from our early childhood, been familiar. His favourite haunts were here and in one of the ravines of Schnee-Koppee; and I must say this much for him, that in his choice of quarters, he exhibited not only a great deal of skill, but a very commendable share of taste into the bargain.
The door being opened, we find ourselves in a narrow passage, open to the heavens, perhaps a couple of hundred feet over-head, but walled in on either hand by rocks, perpendicular as the drop of the plummet. The passage being exceedingly tortuous, does not permit any extensive view to the front; but at each new turn some new wonder presents itself, either in the formation of some particular rock, or in the grotesque and striking combinations of masses. Here the guide stops us to point out a chimney most distinctly defined; by-and-by two enormous kettle-drums are exhibited; then comes a barrel-organ on one hand, and a pulpit on the other, beyond which lies the chancel of a church. Above our heads, meanwhile, on the very summits of detached peaks, stand the Burgomaster, in his full-bottomed wig, the Emperor Leopold,—an exact resemblance,—and John the Baptist preaching in the desert. This last is really a very curious specimen of what Dame Nature can sometimes accomplish, when she takes it into her head to become sculptor. On a lofty cone, yet little elevated above the surrounding masses, the very emblems of desolation, stands the image of a man, with a shaggy mantle thrown across his shoulders, and one arm raised as if in the act of speaking,—no inappropriate monument to him who, though the greatest of the prophets that lived under the Law, was in his day of mortality less than the least of those to whom the Gospel dispensation has been communicated.
After pausing awhile to examine these, as well as the form of a dog in a recumbent position, not far removed from them, we passed on; first, into the Giant's Mouth,—an enormous arch, armed, as it seems, with teeth,—and then into the Frauen Zimmer, or Giantess's Apartment. It must have been but a sorry lodging for a lady of so much personal weight in the world, and supposing her proportions to have resembled those of her husband, would not fail to cramp her exceedingly; for it is nothing more than a hole in the rock, measuring perhaps twenty feet in length, by six or eight in width. But giants and giantesses lived, it is presumed, chiefly in the open air, and this which is called her chamber, may have been, after all, nothing more than her couch. If such were the case, she must have had no taste for down mattresses and feather-bed coverings.