So he shouldered his trumpet, and had scarcely proceeded more than an hour's journey through a deep valley, known as the Wolf's Dale, which lies between rocks so steep and narrow that it is as much as two mules can do to pass each other therein, when two wild shapes suddenly pounced out upon him from an ambush, and whirling their axes over their heads, dictatorially cried:
"Halt!"
The honest trumpeter could not possibly be expected to know who these people were, for at that time the militia used to dress exactly like robbers so as to be better able to capture those gentry. They wore sheepskin caps on their heads; their shirts, which had first been soaked through with grease and then smoked dry in a chimney, were as black as ink; belts bristling with knives girded their loins; they were shod with bast shoes, and in their hands they carried muskets and long-handled axes.
The waylayers told the trumpeter to wait till their comrades came up and decided what was to be done with him; if he uttered a syllable in the meantime, he would immediately be cut to pieces. Then they whistled, and down from the rocks sprang four similar wild figures, who took the trumpeter into custody and haled him along with them.
They forced him to crawl up the steep sides of the narrow rocky gorge, by means of holes hewn therein at regular intervals, and serving as footholds and resting-places to venturesome climbers. It was just like mounting a chimney. Here and there still larger holes gaped forth from the rocky walls, from the depths of which a frightful growling resounded. But Simplex's companions bade him fear nothing. These were only bears' dens, they said. Mother Bruin was too much engaged at this season in suckling her young to bestow much attention on those who did not wantonly attack her. Yet Simplex, for all that, had not the slightest wish to make the acquaintance of a monster which is, perhaps, a still more dreadful enemy than even a robber. He knew the habits of the terrible beast, which, when it meets a man on a narrow path, rises on its hind legs and crushes him to death in its embrace.
On reaching the top of this perilous ladder, Simplex saw before him a spacious plateau surrounded by steep rocks. This was the robbers' lair.
Huge pine-trees stretched down their branches from the rocks, thus forming a sort of natural canopy over the valley. Out of the cleft of a granite rock gurgled a merry little brook, half dammed up by two huge jagged stones. The object of this dam Simplex learned later on.
The first glance at the spectacle now before him made his eyes twinkle. This natural chamber was occupied by more than a hundred robbers. Most of them were sitting round a caldron, which hung simmering over a large fire, on a iron tripod. One of the robbers served as cook, another as scullion. The former was cutting up a sheep, with which he filled the caldron, while the latter stirred the mess round and round, adding milk instead of water and frequent handfuls of saffron, cinnamon, and cloves. Truly a bandits' banquet! Others were squatting on barrels and playing dice. All of them spoke very low. No one attempted to attack the caldron beforehand, or stave in one of the many casks of wine, beer, and brandy lying about the place. The discipline among them was perfect.
In the midst of the rocky place, bales of goods were piled one on top of the other, just as they are exhibited for sale at fairs and in market-places. Aloft on this costly throne sat the three robber chieftains.
They were dressed precisely like their comrades, yet each had his distinguishing marks, so that Simplex, who had often heard them described by the country people, was able to identify them at a glance.