Her chip of pine-wood was still burning. She turned round to the back part of the cavern; the men following on her heels. So they went through a dark and narrow passage, into the interior of the mountain; fragments of stones were lying across the path. Often they had to bend down their heads, to be able to proceed. Faint, reddish gleams of light played on the projecting edges of the walls, and soon the flaring daylight appeared. The young girl struck her chip against the strangely formed stalactites, which hung down from the roof, so that it went out. A few steps more, and they stood on a wide and delicious Alpine tract.
Innumerable flowers were exhaling their sweet fragrance. Veronicas, orchises and lovely blue gentians, grew there in great profusion; and the Apollo, the magnificent butterfly of the Alps, with its shining red eyes on its wings, was hovering over the luxuriant petals.
After the oppressive darkness and narrowness of the cavern, a magnificent and extensive panorama, was doubly grateful to the eye.
The early morning mists were as yet lying in heavy and compact masses over the valley, looking like some mighty sea, which in the very moment, when its foam-crested billows were rising up, had been changed into stone. With clear, sharp outlines the mountain-peaks stood out against the blue sky,--like giant isles rising out of the sea of mists. The Bodensee too, was covered up with vapoury clouds, and the rows of the far off Rhetian mountains, with their craggy pinnacles were just visible through the soft haze surrounding them. The melodious tinkling of the cow-bells, was the only sound that broke the silence of that early morning hour. In Ekkehard's soul there rose a proud and yet humble prayer.
"You are going to stay with us," said the old herdsman. "I can tell so by the expression of your eyes."
"I am a homeless wanderer, whom the Abbot has not sent out hither," said Ekkehard sadly.
"That's all the same to us," replied the other. "If but we, and the old Säntis over there, are satisfied, then nobody else need be asked. The Abbot's sovereignty does not extend here. We pay him our tithes, when his stewards come here to look at our cottages, on the day when the milk is examined, because it is an old custom; but except that, we have an old proverb which says 'his fields and grounds I do not till, nor do I bow before his will.'"
"Look there!" pointing out a grey mountain-peak, which in solitary grandeur rose from far-stretching ice-fields,--"that is the high Säntis, who is the Lord and master of the mountains. We take off our hats to him, but to nobody else. There, to the right is the 'blue snow,' where in times long ago, there were meadows and pasture-grounds enough; but a proud and overbearing man lived there, who was a giant, and whose pride increased with his flocks, so that he said: 'I will be king over all, that my eyes survey.' But in the depths of the Säntis, there arose a roaring and trembling; and the ground opened and emitted floods of ice, which covered up the giant, his cottage, herds and meadows; and from the eternal snow which lies there, cold chilling winds blow down, to remind one, that besides the lord of the mountains, nobody is meant to reign here!"
The herdsman inspired Ekkehard with confidence. Independant strength, as well as a kindly heart could be perceived in his words. His daughter, meanwhile, had gathered a nosegay of Alpine roses, which she held out to Ekkehard.
"What is thy name?" asked he.