The Crystal Hunters Part 63

No kobold, gnome, or any other goblin of the mine disturbed the watchers through that night. Dale roused Melchior at the end of his spell, and somewhere about daybreak the guide roused Saxe, in obedience to his orders, and asked him whether he felt fit to take his turn.

"Eh?--Fit?" said Saxe, sitting up: "of course. Why shouldn't I be?"

"I thought you seemed a little upset by the shock yesterday."

"Nonsense: I'm only sleepy. I'm getting used to that sort of thing.

There; lie down, and finish your rest. I'm as fresh as a daisy! I say, though: have you seen anything in the night?"

"The stars slowly going down behind the mountains, and the peaks beginning to glow."

"Didn't Mr Dale see anything?"

"No."

"Well, I'm disappointed. I hoped one of you would catch the gentleman who comes after us. I'm sure there is something."

"So am I, herr. The fire is burning. Keep it up, and call me when it is breakfast time."

He lay down directly, and Saxe ran to the spring for a good sluice, to come back glowing and scrubbing his scarlet face with a towel.

"I say, Melk!"

There was no answer.

"Melky!"

Still silent.

Saxe bent over the Swiss, and then turned away.

"Well, he can sleep," he muttered: "seems only to have to shut his eyes, and he is off."

It did not occur to him that he was as great an adept at sleeping as the guide, and he turned away, half ill-humouredly, to finish his rough toilet, and then he busied himself in making preparations for breakfast, which entailed a severe fight with self, for a sensation of hunger soon developed itself. But he won by a vigorous effort, and, after all was ready, forced himself away from the fire and the kettle, walking right out of the niche, to stand watching the glorious changes on the mountain peaks, and the lines of light slowly creeping, downward and driving out the shadows where it was still night while high up amongst the glittering ice fields it was glorious day.

"Oh, how different it all looks in the sunshine!" thought Saxe. "Which did he say was the Blitzenhorn? I forget."

Then he began to think about the day's work before them--the tramp up beside the glacier, the climb along the black ravine, right in among the mountains, and the exploration of the caves.

"Well, we shall have found some crystals to take back," he thought.

"Wish it was breakfast time, though. What am I to do to amuse myself till Mr Dale wakes?"

At that moment a peculiar whinnying noise fell upon his ears, and he started off down the mountain side in the direction from which the sound had come.

"Better company than none," he said, laughing. "Here: where are you, old chap?"

There was of course no answer, and he was some little time before he could make out the mule, whose colour a.s.similated wonderfully with the browny-grey rocks. But at last he saw it, end on, standing gazing up a narrow valley, and climbed down to find that it was in the midst of a fair spread of short whortleberry growth, whose shoots had evidently been his fare.

As Saxe drew nearer he could see that, in spite of the animal's warmth, the longer hairs about the mule were covered with h.o.a.r-frost, and at every breath a couple of jets of white vapour were sent forth from the mule's nostrils.

The mule took no heed of his approach, but gave vent to another long, loud, complaining whinny, and kept its head stretched out and its ears pointed in the direction of the top of the valley high above them.

"Hullo, Gros!" cried Saxe, as he approached; and the mule turned a little more away as the boy approached.

"Do you hear?" cried Saxe, stepping aside so as to get up to the mule's head; but that head was averted a little in the other direction, and the animal's hind quarters were presented.

"Now, stupid--I mean Dumkoff--I was going to pat your head. I can't shake hands with your tail!"

He darted sharply a few paces to the other side, but the mule carefully turned, to balance the movement, and still presented his tail.

"Ah, you obstinate old ruffian!" cried Saxe: "how can you expect people to be friendly with you! Well, I'm not going to be beaten by an old mule, anyhow!"

It was a rash declaration, for as Saxe made a rush right by the animal it spun round, and the positions were once more the same.

This evolution was repeated again and again, till Saxe stopped short, panting.

"Here!" he exclaimed. "I thought it was cold this morning, and I'm getting hot. For two pins I'd throw a chump of rock at you, you obstinate old four-legged hit of ill-temper."

He stooped and picked up a stone as big as his fists, and suddenly became aware of the fact that, though the mule's head was turned away from him, the cunning animal turned its eyes back and was watching him carefully. For as he raised the stone Gros shook his head so that his long ears rattled, squealed, and a peculiar quivering motion, like the beginning of a dance, was visible in his hind quarters.

"Ah! would you kick!" cried Saxe. "You ruffian, you'd better not.

There are plenty of stones, and I'll give you one for every hoist of those nice little heels."

He made an "offer," as boys call it, with the stone, and there was a loud squeal. Gros's head went down between his fore legs till he had nearly touched the ground, and he was turning himself into a tripod so as to set his hind legs at liberty.

Certainly they seemed at liberty, for he threw them out so vigorously that, as Saxe gazed at the hoofs playing about in the air, they seemed to be sparring and fencing at him, while the tail between whipped and whisked about, and ended by tucking itself in tightly, till Saxe sat down on a rock roaring with laughter, when the mule suddenly ceased its efforts, stood still, and turned its head round to watch him.

"Now it's coming!" cried Saxe, leaping up and raising the stone again.

The mule squealed defiance, and out flew its heels once more, and this was repeated till, half choked with laughing, Saxe threw down the stone.

"There!" he said: "I wouldn't throw at you. Poor old chap, then!"

He approached the animal now on the side to which its head was thrust to watch him, and, to his great surprise, Gros did not stir, but moved his head a little, and let him approach, pat his neck, and pull his ears.

"Only your fun, was it, old chap--eh! There! It was only my fun too.

It's all right. Go on, old fellow. But, I say, how long have we been carrying on this game? Suppose my fire's out!"

He gave the mule a final pat, and then hurried back to the tent, where the fire was burning steadily, but wanted replenishing. This done, he looked at the sleepers, who were both like the Irishman in the old story, paying attention to it; then Saxe told himself that he would continue his watch.

This idea seemed so droll that he could not refrain from smiling.

"Rather a queer way of keeping watch," he said, "going off like that.

Never mind: there's nothing much to steal, and no one to steal it. But I suppose I ought to stop; only the worst of it is, if I stop here I begin feeling hungry."

The temptation came over him to examine the stores which Melchior had brought on the previous day, but he resisted it; and by dint of walking about using Dale's gla.s.s to examine the different peaks and snowfields in the distance, the time pa.s.sed till Dale woke with a start and sprang up.

"Ah, Saxe, my lad, have I overslept myself?--No? Well, it's time I was up. All right? That's well. Now, this ought to be an important day for us," he continued, as he rapidly prepared himself for the journey.

"We must creep into that grotto somehow, and with plenty of light. I expect we shall find it quite a treasure-house. But," he said at last, "I think you may wake up Melchior now."