THE VULTURE MAIDEN

CONTENTS.


INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I. Joseph, the Bear-hunter

-- II. Unbending

-- III. Outcast

-- IV. Munzoll's Child

-- V. Old Luckard

-- VI. A Day at Home

-- VII. "Hard Wood"

-- VIII. The Klotz Family of Rofen

-- IX. In the Wilderness

-- X. The Mistress of the Sonnenplatte

-- XI. At Last

-- XII. In the Night

-- XIII. Back to her Father

-- XIV. The Message of Grace





THE VULTURE-MAIDEN.

A TALE OF THE TYROLESE ALPS.


Far down in the depths of the Oetz valley, a traveller was passing. On
the eagle heights of the giddy precipice above him, stood a maiden's
form, no bigger than an Alpine rose when seen from below, yet sharply
defined against the clear blue sky, the gleaming ice-peaks of the
Ferner. There she stood firm and tranquil, though the mountain gusts
tore and snatched at her, and looked without dizziness down into the
depths where the Ache rushed roaring through the ravine, and a sunbeam
slanting across its fine spray-mist painted glimmering rainbows on the
rocky wall. To her, also, the traveller and his guide appeared minutely
small as they crossed the narrow bridge, which thrown high over the
Ache, looked from above like a mere straw. She could not hear what the
two were saying, for out of those depths no sound could reach her but
the thundering roar of the waters. She could not see that the guide, a
trimly-attired chamois-hunter, raised his arm threateningly, and
pointing her out to the stranger said: "That is certainly the
Vulture-maiden standing up yonder; no other maid would trust herself on
that narrow point, so near the edge of the precipice. See, one would
think that the wind must blow her over, but she always does just the
contrary to what other reasonable Christian folk do."

Now they entered a pine-forest, dark, damp, and cold. Once more the
guide paused, and sent a falcon-glance upwards to where the girl stood,
and the little village spread itself out smilingly on the narrow
mountain plateau in the full glow of the morning sun, which as yet
could hardly steal a sidelong ray into the close, grave-like twilight
of the gorge. "Thou needn't look so defiant, there's a way up as well
as down," he muttered, and disappeared with the stranger. As though in
scorn of the threat, the girl sent up a halloo, so shrilly repeated
from every side, that a flying echo reached even the silent depth of
the fir-wood with a ghostly ring, like the challenging cry of the
chamois-hunter's enemy, the fairy of the Oetz valley.