She had to be contented with this, and they separated, her father taking a path which led to the right, up a steep but well cleared ascent to a plateau, from which they could see the gable of a roof rising, and beyond that the tip-top rock with its white cross marking the highest point. The others passed to the left, around and among huge rocks, where all the hollows were full of grimy snow. The ground was destitute of trees and all shrubs taller than the hardy Alpen-rosen. Masses of rock lay piled about the limestone crags that formed the summit. The sun had not yet tipped their peak with purple and orange, but some of the others were lighting up. No insects darted about them; there was not a living thing among the near rocks except the bluish black salamanders, which lay here and there, cold and motionless.
They walked on in silence; the trail grew muddy, the ground was beaten and hatched up with small, sharp hoof prints. Sepp kneeled down and examined them.
“Hirsch, Reh, and fawn, and ja! ja! Sehen Sie? Gams!”
After this they went on cautiously. All at once a peculiar shrill hiss, half whistle, half cry, sounded very near.
A chamois, followed by two kids, flashed across a heap of rocks above their heads and disappeared. The Jaeger muttered something, deep in his beard.
“You wouldn’t have shot her?” said Ruth, timidly.
“No, but she will clear this place of chamois. It’s useless to stay here now.”
It was an hour’s hard pull to the next peak. When at last they lay sheltered under a ledge, grimy snow all about them, the Jaeger handed his glass to Ruth.
“Hirsch on the Kaiser Alm, three Reh by Nani’s Hütterl, and one in the ravine,” he said, looking at Gethryn, who was searching eagerly with his own glass. Ruth balanced the one she held against her alpenstock.
“Yes, I see them all—and—why, there’s a chamois!”