The Crystal Hunters Part 50

"Oh yes, herr. I am a little stiff and tired this morning, but that will be all gone by to-morrow; and I meant to take you up to a crystal cave to-day."

Saxe looked at Dale's wondering face, and then burst into a hearty laugh.

"It is of no use to dwell upon troubles gone by, herr," said Melchior.

"I shall get well quicker here than down at the chalet. How soon will you be ready to start?"

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

AN EXPEDITION.

There was no doubt about Melchior's willingness to make a fresh start that day; but none was made, Dale being of the opinion that a quiet rest in the neighbourhood of the camp would be of advantage to all concerned.

"Rest our bodies and our nerves too, Saxe," he said. "I am pretty strong in mind and muscle, but yesterday's business shook me in both. I can see it all constantly; and as for my arms, the strain upon them was terrific."

"The herr is stopping about the tent to-day," said Melchior to Saxe the first time he could get him alone, "because he thinks I am too weak to go forward, and because he does not trust me as he did before. It is cruel of him, and he is mistaken. I had an accident, of course; but so do the best guides upon the mountains have accidents."

"You are quite wrong," replied Saxe, and he repeated all that Dale had said; but the guide did not seem to be satisfied, for he shook his head solemnly, and went about smoking his big pipe, looking despondent in the extreme; while the others spent the morning chipping the stones in search of minerals that might prove interesting, and of the various Alpine plants that luxuriated in the sheltered corners and ravines facing the south.

They had been collecting for some little time, when Saxe suddenly exclaimed--

"Well, I am disappointed!"

"What, at not going on some wild expedition to-day?"

"No: with these stones and flowers."

"Why?" said Dale.

"Because there's nothing fresh. I've seen plants like that in Cornwall, and limestone like that in Yorkshire."

"Not exactly like it, boy; say similar."

"Well, granite and limestone, then."

"So you would, my lad, all over the world--Asia, Africa or America."

"But I expected something so different; and I thought we were going to get magnificent great crystals, and I haven't seen any yet."

"Did you expect to see them tumbling about anywhere on the mountain side, sir?"

"I thought they would be plentiful."

"I did not. I fully expected that we should have a good deal of difficulty in finding them. If they were easily found, they would be common and of no value. Wait a bit, and I dare say we shall discover a crystal cavern yet."

"Well, then, the flowers and moss: I expected to find all kinds of fresh things."

"Did you?"

"Yes, of course--all foreign. Why, look at those! I've seen lots of them at home in gardens."

"Gentians? Oh yes."

"And that patch of old monkshood," Saxe continued, pointing to a slope dotted with the dark blue flowers of the aconite. "Why, you can see that in nearly every cottage garden at home. Here's another plant, too--I don't know its name."

"Centaurea."

"You can see that everywhere; and these bluebell-harebell-campanula things, and the dandelion blossoms, and the whortleberry and hogweed and wild parsley stuff: you see them all at home."

"Anything else?"

"Oh yes: the fir trees down below, and the ash and birch and oak and willow, and all the rest of it. I thought all the trees and flowers would be foreign; and there's nothing strange about them anywhere, only that they grow close to the ice."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dale, as he pressed an orange hawkweed between two pieces of paper; "has it never occurred to your wise young head that these things are common at home because they have been brought from places like this?"

"Eh?"

"Have you not heard about Alpine plants?"

"Oh yes. Aunt Ellen has lots in her garden, I know, because they are so like my name--Saxe something."

"Saxifrages. There are any number of them about here, from some so tiny you can hardly see them to others with great bell flowers and broad leaves. I'm afraid if you went to the tropics Saxe, you would find fault with the plants there, because you had seen so many of them at home in England. Now, let's sit down and rest here, and look at the mountains! I never tire of watching their snow peaks, ridges and hollows, with their dazzling snow."

"Yes, it's very beautiful; but I want to climb up some more of them."

"In spite of the risks?"

"Oh, we must be more careful, and pick fine days."

Dale smiled.

"You must have a chat with Melchior about that. Do you know that is almost impossible to pick what you call a fine day?"

"No," said Saxe. "I should not have thought it was. Why can't you choose one?"

"Because the higher you are up the more risk there is of change. Now, look here: what sort of a day would you call this?"

"Surely just the day for ascending a peak."

"Yes, I knew you would say that; but look up yonder," and he pointed toward the summit of the highest mountain near.

"Yes, I can see. What a lovely slope of snow, with a few clouds floating by!"

"To us, Saxe; but if we were up there, we should be in a mist, with the weather intensely cold and a wind blowing so hard that it would be unsafe to climb."

"What, up there?--now?" cried Saxe wonderingly.