We halted, and the honest fellow, whose countenance was beginning to
brighten up, looking up at me with enthusiasm, cried--

"Fritz, if we have luck this will be one of the finest days in my life.
If we catch the old hag I will strap her across my horse behind me like a
bundle of old rags. There is only one thing troubles me."

"And what is that?"

"That I forgot my bugle. I should have liked to have sounded the return
on getting near the castle! Ha, ha, ha!"

He lighted his stump of a pipe and we galloped off again.

The track of the she-wolf now passed on to the heights of the forest by
so steep an ascent that several times we had to dismount and lead our
horses by the bridle.

"There she is, turning to the right," said Sperver. "In this direction
the mountains are craggy; perhaps one of us will have to lead both horses
while the other climbs to look after the trail. But don't you think the
light is going?"

The landscape now was assuming an aspect of grandeur and magnificence.
Vast grey rocks, sparkling with long icicles, raised here and there their
sharp peaks like breakers amidst a snowy sea.

There is nothing more sadly impressive than the aspect of winter in a
mountainous region. The jagged crests of the precipices, the deep, dark
ravines, the woods sparkling with boar-frost like diamonds, all form a