CHAPTER IV.

The Alpine caravansary was hardly settled at the Olm when the air became intensely hot and oppressive.  Day by day black thunder-clouds gathered on the horizon.  They crested the mountains in three directions, at times appearing to repel each other, at others marching fiercely on to conflict, when, the zenith becoming pitch-dark, they flung out long spears of lightning and exploded in overwhelming thunder.  Very terrible were these perpetual storms.  With the first peal the church-bells along the valley began solemnly to toll.  It mattered not whether by night or day, the faithful bellringer was at his post, and with rain pouring down outside and fiery, vivid lightning playing around him, he still went tolling on, for evil spirits must be driven away, and people reminded to make the sign of the cross and pray God to protect them.

At length, to use an expression of Alois’s, “Saint Florian had left off playing at skittles, and Saint Leonhard had driven his hay over the heavenly bridge.”  The warring elements were still, but the earth seemed smouldering with heat, and we panted and gasped after the lofty mountain-slopes which lay on all sides.  At the same time it came most opportunely to our knowledge that the Tyrol was rich in baths—­primitive establishments most of them, but dotted over mountain and valley, so that each village had half a dozen to choose from, where every peasant, be he ever so poor, could at least dip and soak for an eight-days’ sommerfrisch.  Why, then, should not the two Margarets, they being the most desirous of a change, have at least a sommerfrisch?

But which amongst all these baths was the one to choose?  Good Kathi recommended her baths at Innichen.  She herself evidently did not derive much pleasure from her yearly visits there.  Still, we, being ladies, would find more people to talk to, and the bath-house, which was always full to overflowing, stood in a wood, and we liked trees.  Schuster Alois—­for the conversation took place before he left—­said that most gentlefolks went to Maistall.  There was not only luxus, but a great deal of life and spirit there.  His Majesty Emperor Max as early as 1511 took up his quarters at Maistall during his campaign against the Venetians, and he had heard say that in the last century the visitors formed a society and made it a rule that none but the purest German should be spoken.  Every fault of pronunciation cost a kreuzer to the offender:  the money went to the chapel, and amounted one season to twenty-one florins six kreuzers.

But one Margaret decidedly objected to going to a place where there was the faintest chance of her loiter wagon for leiterwagen, her pison for speisen, her vulgarborn for wohlgeboren, being fined by a gazel-schaft (gesellschaft).  Besides, these places sounded too grand:  we did not want a Gastein, but a Wildbad, if one could be found that did not belie its name.  So the peasant-baths of St. Vigil, Muehlbach and Scharst were named to us, and the lot fell upon Scharst, we having heard that all the school-children in town had just been taken there for a long day’s holiday, and had returned to their proud and happy parents, who waited for them in double ranks below, radiant with pleasure, waving their banners and Alpine roses.