The Crystal Hunters Part 35

"No, herr, there is none, or I should have known of it years ago. I have been up there, and it is so perilous that no one but a bold climber could get along. Well, it is one of the many things I have seen and heard in the mountains that I could not understand. Shall we go on, herr?"

"Yes, and we'll keep a sharp look-out," said Saxe.

"You may," cried Dale; "but you will find it is something perfectly simple--a stray foot, if the stone is not loosened by the weather."

Ten minutes later they were trudging on over the rough ground, with the valley growing wilder and more strange; presenting, too, plenty of clefts and openings to ravines which Dale felt disposed to stop and explore; but Melchior was always ready with the same form of speech.

"Wait, herr," he said. "It would only be labour in vain. We'll go on till I get you into the parts where none but the most venturesome guides have been. If crystals are to be found, it will be there."

"What's that?" said Saxe suddenly, pointing upwards.

His companions looked at once in the direction indicated, and saw nothing particular.

"Does the young herr mean that strangely shaped thing!"

"No, no. Something ran across there hundreds of feet up, where that bit of a ledge is in front of the pale brown patch of stones."

"A marmot, perhaps," said Melchior; "there are many of the little things about here."

"But this was not a little thing," cried Saxe impatiently. "It was something big as a goat. I thought it was a man."

"Up yonder, herr?" said Melchior. "No man could run along up there. It would be slow, careful climbing, and a slip would send the climber headlong down into the valley here. From where you say, is quite a thousand feet."

"It must have been a goat, then, or a chamois," said Saxe.

"I cannot say, herr," replied the guide rather solemnly, and as if he had faith in the possibility of something "no canny" being at the bottom of the mystery.

But the rest of their day's journey, as mapped out for them by Melchior, was achieved without further adventure, and some ten hours after their start in the morning he halted them high up among the mountains, in a little rock amphitheatre, surrounded by peaks, which looked gigantic in the solemn evening light.

But the need of the ordinary animal comforts of life took all romantic thought out of Saxe's brain, and he busily set to work helping to light a fire with the wood the guide had brought. Then, while the kettle was getting hot, all three busied themselves in setting up the tiny tent, anchoring it by means of its lines to stones, as soft a spot as could be found having been selected, for they were far above the pines, and the prospect of getting anything suitable for a bed was very small--even moss proving scarce. However, a rug spread beneath them saved them from some of the asperities of the rocky ground, and after they had partaken of their evening meal and taken a short peep round the huge hollow, which promised admirably for exploration next day, "good nights" were said, and Saxe lay down for his first test of what it would be like to sleep under the shelter of a thin tent eight thousand feet above the level of the sea.

"Is there any need to keep watch up here?" asked Dale.

"Oh no, herr; not the slightest."

"Then welcome sleep to my weary bones," said Dale, as he stretched himself out; and soon after, as the stars came out, they were all sleeping peacefully, but only to be aroused just after midnight by a most unearthly scream--a cry loud enough to make every one spring at once to his feet and nearly upset the tiny tent.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A STRANGE INCIDENT.

It was very dark and cold, the stars gleamed frostily overhead, and the nearest mountain peak stood out weird-looking and strange against the purple sky, as the little party stood together listening, and then questioning each other in an awe-stricken whisper.

"You heard it, Saxe?" said Dale.

"Heard it? Yes, it was horrible. What was it, Melchior?"

The guide shook his head, and then took up his ice-axe for a protection against whatever the object might be that had alarmed them, as he began to peer cautiously in all directions.

"It woke me up with a start," whispered Saxe.

"Yes; the most unearthly cry I ever heard. It must have been some kind of owl, and its shriek sounded the more terrible from being up in this land of echoes."

"Then if it was a bird there is nothing to be afraid of," said Saxe.

"It gave me the shivers."

"It was startling. Found anything, Melchior?"

"No, herr; and I'm puzzled."

"We think it was a bird."

"No, herr; that was no bird."

"Could it have been an animal?"

"There are no animals up at this height, but chamois and marmots. They could not have made such a cry."

"No," said Dale thoughtfully.

"Stop!" said the guide, as if he had caught at an idea; "could it have been a bear?"

"No-o-o!" cried Saxe. "It was a shriek, not a growl."

"You are right, herr," said the guide. "Bears are very scarce now, and I do not think one of them could make such a noise unless he were being killed. This is another mystery of the mountains that I cannot explain.

Some guides would say it was the mountain spirit."

"But you do not, Melchior?"

"No, herr; I believe now that all these old stories ate fables. Shall we lie down again to rest?"

"I want to rest," said Dale; "but it seems impossible to lie down expecting to be roused up by such an unearthly cry."

"Then the English herr thinks it was unearthly?"

"Oh, I don't mean that," said Dale hastily. "The mountains are full of awful things, but not of that kind. Well, Saxe, shall we lie down?"

"What's the good?" replied the boy: "we couldn't go to sleep if we did.

I say, isn't it cold?"

"Get one of the rugs to put round you."

"Shall we have a good look round, first, herr?"

"No, don't," said Saxe. "It is so dark, and there are so many stones about. Yes, let's go," he added suddenly, as the thought flashed across his brain that if he declined his companions would think him cowardly.