The Crystal Hunters Part 8

"But we are not going right up that mountain, are we?" cried Saxe, panting and breathless.

"Not to-day," replied the guide. "No: up to the snow yonder, and along its edge for a little way, and then we descend on the other side, where it will be all downward to Andregg's chalet. Hah! Down close! Quick!"

He set the example, flinging himself upon his face and extending his hands above his head, as a whizzing sound was heard; then a dull thud or two and directly after there was a crash on the rocky side of the couloir a few feet above their heads, followed by a shower of slaty fragments which fell upon them, while a great fragment, which had become detached far above, glanced off, struck the other side of the gully, and then went downward, ploughing up the snow.

"Take care!" again cried the guide. "No," he said directly after, "it is only a few bits."

The few consisted of what might easily have been a cartload of snow, which pa.s.sed them with a rush, fortunately on the opposite side of the gully.

"I say, Mr Dale," said Saxe, rather nervously, "if that piece of slate had hit either of us--"

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dale, drawing in his breath with a hiss, "if it had hit us--"

They neither of them finished their sentence; and just then Melchior started once more, lessening the difficulty of the ascent by zigzagging the way.

Snow was dislodged, and went gliding down the gully, and for a moment a great patch began to slide, taking Dale with it, but a few rapid leaps carried him beyond it; and tightening the rope as soon as he had reached a firm place, Saxe was able to pick his way after the snow had gone by him with a rush, but only to stop a little lower down.

Another climb of about a quarter of an hour's duration brought them to the edge of the field of snow, which Melchior examined pretty carefully, and ended by rejecting in favour of a rugged ridge of rocks, which they had hardly reached when there was a quick roar like thunder, and the guide cried sharply--

"Look!"

He pointed upward toward the snow peaks, which seemed to be a couple of miles away; and as they followed the direction of his pointing hand, toward quite a chaos of rock and ice to their left, and about half-way to the summit, they looked in vain, till Dale cried--

"There it is!"

"Yes: what?" cried Saxe eagerly. "Oh, I see: that little waterfall!"

For far away there was the semblance of a cascade, pouring over the edge of a black rock, and falling what seemed to be a hundred feet into a hollow, glittering brilliantly the while in the sun.

They watched it for about five minutes; and then, to Saxe's surprise, the fall ceased, but the deep rushing noise, as of water, was still heard, and suddenly the torrent seemed to gush out below, to the left, and go on again fiercer than ever, but once more to disappear and reappear again and again, till it made one bold leap into a hollow, which apparently communicated with the glacier they had left.

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Saxe, "it was very beautiful, but--Why, that must have been snow! Was that an avalanche?"

"Yes; didn't you understand? That is one of the ice-falls that are always coming down from above."

"I didn't take it," said Saxe. "Well, it was very pretty, but not much of it. I should like to see a big one."

Dale looked at Melchior, and smiled.

"He does not grasp the size of things yet," he said. "Why, Saxe, my lad, you heard the clap like thunder when the fall first took place?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then don't you grasp that what looked like a cascade tumbling down was hundreds of tons of hard ice and snow in large fragments? Hark! there goes another."

There was a deeper-toned roar now, and they stood looking up once more, with Saxe troubled by a feeling of awe, as the noise came rumbling and echoing to where they stood.

"That must have been a huge ma.s.s down," said Dale at last, after they had looked up in vain, expecting some visible token of the avalanche.

"Yes, herr: away over that ridge. The snow falls at this time of the day. We shall not see any of that one. Shall we go on!"

"No, no!" cried Saxe excitedly, "I want to see another one come down.

But did you mean there were hundreds of tons in that first one, that looked like water?"

"Oh yes--perhaps much more," said Dale. "That fall was a couple of miles away."

"Here, let's go on, sir," said Saxe, who seemed to have changed his mind very suddenly. "It all puzzles me. I dare say I'm very stupid, but I can't understand it. Perhaps I shall be better after a time."

"It is more than any one can understand, Saxe," said Dale quietly; "and yet, while it is grand beyond imagination, all the scheme of these mountains, with their ice and snow, is gloriously simple. Yes," he added, with a nod to Melchior, "go on," and an arduous climb followed along the ridge of rocks, while the sun was reflected with a painful glare from the snowfield on their left, a gloriously soft curve of perhaps great depth kept from gliding down into the gorge below by the ridge of rocks along which they climbed.

The way was safe enough, save here and there, when Melchior led them along a ledge from which the slope down was so steep as to be almost a precipice. But here he always paused and drew in the rope till those in his charge were close up to him; and on one of these occasions he patted Saxe on the shoulder, for there had been a narrow piece of about fifty feet in length that looked worse at a glance back than in the pa.s.sing.

"That was good," he said. "Some grown men who call themselves climbers would have hung back from coming."

"That?" said Saxe. "Yes, I suppose it is dangerous, but it didn't seem so then. I didn't think about it, as you and Mr Dale walked so quietly across."

"It's the thinking about it is the danger," said Dale quietly.

"Imagination makes men cowards. But I'm glad you've got such a steady head, Saxe."

"But I haven't, sir, for I was horribly frightened when I hung at the end of that rope down in the creva.s.se."

"You will not be again," said Melchior coolly, for they were now on a slope where the walking was comparatively easy, and they could keep together. "The first time I slipped into one I, too, was terribly frightened. Now I never think of anything but the rope cutting into my chest and hurting me, and of how soon I can get hold somewhere to ease the strain."

"What!" cried Saxe, staring at the man's cool, matter-of-fact way of treating such an accident, "do you mean to say I shall ever get to think nothing of such a thing as that?"

"Oh yes," said Melchior quietly.

"Oh, well, I don't think so," said Saxe. "Oh no. I shall get not to mind walking along precipices, I dare say, but those creva.s.ses--ugh!"

"The young herr will make a fine mountaineer, I am sure," said Melchior.

"I ought to know. Along here," he added; and, after a few minutes, he stopped at what was quite a jagged rift in the mountain side.

"There is an awkward bit here, herr," he said, "but it will cut off half an hour's hard walking."

"Down there?" said Saxe, after a glance. "Oh, I say!"

"It is an ugly bit, certainly," said Dale, looking at the guide.

"With a little care it is nothing," said Melchior. "The herr will go down first. He has only to mind where he plants his feet. When he reaches that ledge he will stop till we join him."

As Melchior spoke he unfastened the rope from Dale's breast and placed the end from his own breast there instead; after which he set himself in a good position by the edge.

"Hadn't we better get the youngster down first?"

"No, herr, you are heavy, and if you slip he can help me to hold you.

We can do it easily. Then you will untie yourself, and I can let him down."

"And what then?" cried Saxe merrily, to conceal a feeling of uneasiness at the awkward descent before him. "Are we to come up again and let you down?"