The Crystal Hunters Part 41

"There: that is safe," said Dale. "Now pick up your ice-axe and hold by the rope with your left hand, so as to ease the strain upon your chest.

Use the ice-axe cautiously, to keep yourself from turning round and from striking against the side. When you get down to the ledge, which must be, from what you say, only just out of sight, you will chip a secure place for your feet if the ice slopes, and, proceeding quite slowly and calmly, make yourself first quite safe. When this is done, unfasten the rope from about you, and make it fast about poor Melchior. Be very particular about the knot, mind. Don't forget what I have taught you.

That knot must not slip in any way, either in tightening round his chest or coming undone."

"I'll remember," panted Saxe.

"That's right. Now then, I think that is all, except a final word.

There is no danger for you to dread. The rope is new and strong, and I am at one end."

"You will not let it slip through your hands?"

Dale smiled at him sadly, and shook his head.

"Ready?" he said.

"Yes."

"Take off your hat."

Saxe obeyed, and Dale removed his and knelt down in the snow, Saxe slowly sinking upon his knees.

There was a minute's silence as a brief, heartfelt prayer was offered up for help: and then Dale sprang to his feet with an eager, bright, cheerful look upon his face, and, clapping a hand on either side of Saxe's waist, he lifted him by his belt and set him down again.

"Why, I could draw up half a dozen of you," he said. "Now, steady!

Down with you, and slide over. Saxe, you are going to the rescue of a fellow-man."

The boy set his teeth, his brow furrowed, and there were marks about his eyes, as he saw Dale throw the rope round the handle of the ice-axe, and then over the coil, so that the rings of rope should come off freely.

Then he grasped the hemp firmly with one hand, his ice-axe with the other, and threw back his legs over the edge of the creva.s.se close to where the great piece had broken away. As he did this a piece of snow slipped from under his chest, and went down before him and he was over the side, swinging gently to and fro, as he heard a spattering noise come from below.

"Don't be afraid to talk, Saxe," said Dale loudly; and every word came distinctly to the boy's ears as the sides of the creva.s.se slowly rose above him, and, in spite of himself, he turned his eyes up with a wild longing toward the deep blue sky.

"I--I can't talk," he gasped forth.

"All right--steady! Take it coolly, lad."

"Yes; only don't ask me to talk till I've something to say."

"No!" shouted Dale, as the sides of the creva.s.ses grew more distant and represented two jagged lines against the sky. "Splendid rope, Saxe!"

came down to him; "runs as easily as if it were made of silk. Cut your chest?"

"Not much," shouted the boy, who for an instant felt a sensation of danger as the rope turned him round; but, remembering his instructions, he touched the wall of clear ice with the point at the end of the axe handle, checked himself, and tried to look downward into the blue transparent light which rose up to meet him, as it seemed.

"Half the rope out, Saxe!" came from above. "See anything!"

"No."

"Bit lower down, I suppose. Don't let it turn."

The two edges of the creva.s.se now began to approach, each other, as it seemed to Saxe; and he could see that, except where the piece was broken away, they exactly matched, every angle on the one side having its depression on the other, the curves following each other with marvellous exactness, just as if the fracture were one of only a few weeks old.

"See the ledge, Saxe?" came down.

"No;" and the lad felt an intense longing now to be able to see Dale's face watching him, for it would have seemed like companionship, instead of his having nothing to gaze at but the strip of blue sky, and the glistening blue-ice walls on either side going off to right and left till they seemed to come together in the blue gloom.

And still the rope glided over the ice above, and the slip of sky grew narrow; but though Saxe peered down into the depths, there was no sign of any ledge, and the boy who now felt less nervous, was wondering how much longer the rope was, when Dale's voice was heard.

"No more rope!" he cried. "Now, can you see the ledge?"

Saxe gazed down in silence for a few moments, and Dale's voice came again--short, sharp and impatient:

"I say, can you see the ledge?"

"No."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes."

There was a pause, and then Dale's voice was heard again:

"Does the rope hurt you much?"

"No."

"Can you bear it five minutes longer!"

"Yes--a quarter of an hour."

"Bravo! Wait."

There was a strange silence then, during which Saxe gazed down below him; but he could see no more than when he had been at the top, only that everything looked blacker and more profound, and that the noise of waters was more plain as it reverberated from the slippery walls.

"What is he doing?" thought Saxe. "I hope he will soon draw me up;" and a momentary feeling of panic came over him, and the rope felt painfully cutting. But just then he caught sight of a dark object against the sky. The dark object seemed to be descending, and the next moment he saw that it was light, and he knew that the lanthorn was being sent down at the end of the string.

"Call to me if the rope hurts you too much," cried Dale; and to his horror and astonishment Saxe, as he looked up, saw that his companion's head and shoulders were over the side, and it was as if a black face were looking down at his.

"The rope doesn't hurt; but--but--is it safe!"

"Perfectly; and I am letting down the light so that you may see where the ledge is."

"I understand."

The lanthorn glided down very rapidly, and in a few moments was level with Saxe's face. Then it descended still, and Dale called to him to say when it should be stopped; but it was some time before the boy sharply uttered the word, "Now!"

"See the ledge?"

"Yes--with some broken ice upon it."

"Does he seem much hurt?"