Martin came to the stage from his section, his own violin in hand. Her father—man of rock—had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if he did not love her, would always be needing her. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders.
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