rise over the mountains, he told them about his home in the
village fifteen miles away at the foot of the pass, and about his
wife and two grandchildren who lived there with him.

"The only thing you can do," he said, "is to go down the pass on
this side of the mountain. You can spend the night at my house or
at some farm-house on the way and it is only about ten miles back
to your own village from the foot of the pass."

"But how can we find the way?" quavered poor Leneli.

The old man scratched his head, as he always did when he was
puzzled, and finally said, "Well, I'm blest if I can tell you.
It's a hard pass. I'd go with you, but I'm alone here and I can't
leave the cows even for half a day. I'll start you right, the dog
and the goats have some sense of their own; and the good God will
guide you. Besides, Swiss boys and girls are never afraid."

"I'm a little afraid, I think," confessed Leneli. She looked at
the moon and thought how it must be shining down on the old farm-
house; and of her mother, who at that very moment must be frantic
with fears for their safety; and of the long and perilous journey
before they could see her again, and though she tried hard to
swallow them, three little sobs slipped out.

The old man heard them. "Why, bless me, bless me," he said,
rumpling his hair until it stood on end, "this will never do at
all! Why, bless us, think of William Tell! Think of Peter, who
lived long ago in your own Lucerne, and who saved the whole city!
To take a little herd of goats down a strange pass is child's