Our Little Swiss Cousin

"I have a bottle of the oil in my satchel," said his uncle. "It is good for so many things, I keep it on hand. Here, Carl, open the bag and take a dose at once. I got it from the fat of the last marmot I killed."

"O, uncle, I never saw one in my life. I've heard so much about marmots, I would rather hear you tell about them than take the medicine."

"You may have both the medicine and the story, Carl. While we sit around the stove this evening you shall hear of the fun I have had hunting the shy little creature."

Uncle Fritz was certainly good company. He helped Rudolf and Carl in doing the night's work about the little farm while the supper was made ready. Two or three of the neighbours came in after that. They had heard of Fritz's arrival, and wished to welcome him. It was a very pleasant evening, for Fritz was glad to see his old friends and had much to tell.

Before bedtime came, Carl asked his uncle to tell about marmot hunting. "You know you promised me before supper," he said.

"What shall I tell?" laughed Fritz. "You all know, to begin with, what a shy little creature it is, and how it passes the winter."

"It lies asleep month after month, doesn't it?" asked Carl. "The schoolmaster told us so."

"Yes, my dear. It lives high up on the mountainsides and close to the snow-line. Of course, the summer season is very short there. All through the long winter of six or eight months the marmot lies in his burrow and does not move. You would hardly call it sleep, though. The little creature scarcely breathes; if you should see him then, you would think he was dead.

"But as soon as there is warmer weather he begins to rouse himself. How thin he is now! At the beginning of winter he was quite fat. That fat has in some wonderful way kept him alive through the long months."

"Does he stay in this burrow all alone, uncle?"

"O, no. Marmots live together in families in the summer-time, and when the time comes for a long rest, a whole family enter the burrow and stretch themselves out close together on the hay."

"Where does the hay come from?" asked one of the visitors.

"Why, the marmots carry it into the burrow and line it as carefully as birds prepare their nests."

"I have heard," said Rudolf, "that one marmot lies on his back and holds a bundle of hay between his legs, while two or three others drag him through the long tunnel into the burrow. That is the reason the hair is worn off the backs of so many of them."

Fritz held his sides with laughter.

"Did you believe such a silly story as that, Rudolf? I thought you knew more about the animals of our mountains than that, surely.

"When a marmot's back is bare, you may know it is because the roof of his burrow is not high enough. His hair has rubbed off against it as he moved while asleep."

"How large do the marmots grow?" asked Carl. "Are they pretty creatures, uncle; and are they clever?"

"They are rather stupid, it seems to me, Carl, and they are not as pretty as squirrels. They are larger, however. The colour of their fur is a yellowish-gray. Their tails are short, like those of rabbits. They move about in a slow, clumsy way."

"Why are they so hard to catch, if that is so?" said Carl's mother.

"While they are feeding, there is always one of them acting as a guard. He stands near the opening into the burrow, and gives a cry of alarm if he hears the slightest strange sound. Then all the others scamper with him through the passageway into their home."

"But can't the hunters easily dig it out and reach them?" asked Carl.

"Sometimes the tunnel that leads to the burrow is many feet long. A friend of mine unearthed one that was actually thirty feet from the outside opening of the burrow."

"How did you manage to catch them? You have killed quite a number, haven't you?" asked Rudolf.

"Yes, I have been quite successful, and this is the way I worked: If I found any tracks or signs of their burrows, I crept along very softly. I kept looking ahead in all directions. Away off in the distance, perhaps, I saw something looking like a family of marmots asleep in the sunshine.

"I crept nearer and nearer. I must not make a sound or I would lose my chance. At last, when I was close upon them, I lifted a stone and blocked the opening to their burrow. Then I whistled. The poor little things waked up too late and saw that their way home was cut off. They gave a shrill cry, like a whistle, and fled together into the nearest cranny. There they cowered while I drew near and pinned one of them to the ground. It was an easy matter to end its life after that.

"If I wished to carry it home alive, I seized it by its hind legs and dropped it into a bag; the poor little thing was helpless then."

"You will stay with us for a while, won't you, Fritz?" asked one of the neighbours. "You have been a long time away, and have been living a rough and dangerous life as a guide. It seems good, indeed, to see you back again."

"Yes, I shall rest here for a month or so with my good sister and Rudolf. Then I must be away among my mountains again. I am never so happy as when I am climbing some difficult slope."

"It is growing late, friends," said one of the visitors. "We must bid you good night, for to-morrow brings its work to each of us."

"Good night, good night, then. But let us first have a song in memory of old days," said Fritz.

All joined with a good-will. Half an hour afterward the lights were out in the little house and every one was settled for a good night's rest.

CHAPTER VII

GLACIER AND AVALANCHE

It was cold weather now. Some snow had already fallen, and Carl had helped his father and mother in getting ready for the long, cold winter.

Uncle Fritz had been gone for quite a while, and the family had settled down to their old quiet life. One evening Carl was sitting by the big stove and telling his mother about the day's work at school, when the door opened, and who should stand there but Fritz. Carl rushed into his arms, exclaiming:

"I knew you would come back, because you promised, Uncle Fritz."

"Yes, but I shall stay only a day or two. Then I must be off again. There is a little village up in the mountains about twenty miles away. I must go there before the weather grows any colder, for if a big snow-storm should come up it would make hard walking."

"Will you go all the way on foot, uncle?" asked Carl. "I do believe you never ride in a train if you can help it."

Fritz laughed. "I must say I enjoy the walking best. But, anyhow, this time my way lies across country. How would you like to go too? I have to cross a glacier before I get there. Did you ever see a glacier, my boy?"

"No, Uncle Fritz, and I have always longed to do so. O, mother, may I go? I will study hard at school, and make up all the lessons I lose while I am away."

"How long will you be gone, Fritz?" asked his sister.

"Not over three days, if the weather is good; and after that I shall not stay in this part of the country. I am going to Geneva, so it will be Carl's last chance for a long time to go with me."

In this way it came to pass that Carl went with his uncle.

"Do take good care of him, Fritz," the loving mother called, as the man and boy left the little cottage the next morning. "You know he is my only child."

"Never fear, sister. I will watch well, and try to keep danger away," Fritz promised.

Soon after the two travellers had left the village, the way became quite rough. Fritz told many stories of his wild life as a guide, and Carl was so interested he had no time to think about himself.

After three hours of hard walking, the two travellers stopped to rest and eat the lunch of bread and cheese Carl's mother had given them. A long tramp was still before them, and the way grew rougher at every step. The sun was just setting when the little mountain village at last came in sight.

It looked, at first, like a small bunch of black dots high up on the steep slope before them. But before it could be reached, the glacier must be crossed.

It was a river, indeed, but not like most other rivers in the world. It was a river of solid ice! When it first came in sight, it seemed like a broad, smooth sheet. Carl was a little bit disappointed. He turned to his uncle, and said: