"Yes; a terrible accident, Melchior."

"Yes, herr. Sometimes we go to mishaps, sometimes they come to us. Well, Heaven be thanked, my life was spared. Ah! herr, I am very proud of you two, for I seem to have taught you a little. Very few of our men would have worked more bravely, or done so well."

"Oh, nonsense! We acted as any one else would under the circumstances," said Dale hastily. "Tell us about your accident."

"My fall, herr? There is very little to tell."

"Little!" echoed Saxe. "Oh, go on: tell us!"

"Very well, herr," said Melchior simply; but he remained silent.

"We thought you were killed," said Dale, to bring the guide's thoughts back.

"Yes, herr; you would. It was a bad fall; very deep, but not like going down from a mountain. I am not broken anywhere; hardly scratched, except my hands and arms in climbing."

"But you jumped across the crevasse, Melk!" cried Saxe, "and then a great piece broke out."

"Yes, herr: so suddenly that I had not time to use my axe, and before I could utter a cry I was falling fast down into the dark depths. I believe I did cry out for help, but the noise of ice and snow falling and breaking on a ledge some way down drowned my voice; and as I turned over in the air, I felt that I had made my last climb, and that the end had come, as I had known it come to better guides."

"There are no better guides," said Saxe warmly.

"No!" echoed Dale, and they saw the man's face flush a little through his swarthy skin, and his eyes brighten.

"Oh yes, herrs," he said; "but we all try to do our best. What was I saying? I remember: that I was falling down and down, and set my teeth and held my axe with both hands to try and strike if I should reach a slope, so as to stop myself; but there was nothing but the black walls of ice on either side and the roar of waters below. I thought of this as I prepared myself for being broken on the cruel rocks beneath: a great deal to think, herrs, in so short a time, but thoughts come quickly when one is falling. Then I was plunged suddenly into deep, roaring water, and felt myself swept round and then onward as if I had been once more in the schlucht; for I had fallen into one of the great water holes in the river below the gletscher, and then was carried along."

"How horrible!" ejaculated Saxe. "Was it very dark?"

"So black that a man might do without eyes, herr," said Melchior, smiling sadly.

"You could not swim in water like that!"

"No, herr; and it was so cold that it deadened a man's strength. But I knew I must fight for my life, for I said to myself I had my two English herrs above there on the gletscher, and how could they find their way back from the wilderness of ice? Then I thought of how the little river must run, and I could tell—for I knew it must be very much like the places where I have looked up from the end of gletschers (glaciers you call them)—that there would be deep holes worn in the rock where great stones are always whirling round and grinding the hollows deeper. These would be hard to pass; but I hoped by clinging to the side to get by them without being drowned. They were not what I feared."

"Then what did you fear!" cried Saxe excitedly; for the guide had paused.

"The narrow pieces, where the water touched the roof, herr. I knew it was far down to the foot of the glacier, and that there must be many long hollows where the water rushed through as in a great pipe; and if they were too long, I felt that I could never get my breath again, but that I should be thrown out at the bottom dead."

Dale drew a long, deep breath, and asked himself whether he was justified in exposing a man to such risks for the sake of making his own discoveries.

"Well, herrs, I knew that if I stopped I should get benumbed and unable to struggle on, so I began feeling my way along the narrow shore of the little river, now touching stone, now ice, till the shore seemed to end. As I felt about I found the ice arch lower, and that I must begin to wade."

"But why didn't you try and wade back to the bottom of the crevasse where you fell?" cried Saxe.

"I did, herr; but it was impossible to face the water. It rushed down so fiercely that, as it grew deeper and from wading knee deep I was going along with the water at my waist, I had to cling sometimes to the ice above my head to keep from being swept away."

Saxe drew a long breath.

"I went on, herr, cheered by the knowledge that every step I took was one nearer to liberty; and now, though the water was all melted ice, I did not feel so cold, till suddenly my feet slipped away from under me, and I felt as if something had given me a heavy push in the back. Then I was under the water, and found that I was gliding round and round. I don't know how many times, for it was like being in a dream, till I was once more where the water swept me down under the ice arch.

"There, I can tell you little more, except that it was all wild confusion, that the roar of the water seemed to crash against my ears till I was once more in a shallow place; and as I struggled to get my breath, I came to what seemed to be a bar, panting heavily till I could turn a little, and I found that the bar to which I clung was the handle of my ice-axe lying across two masses of stone, between which the waters roared.

"I felt that I could go no farther, and that if I attempted to pass through that narrow gateway of stone it would be to my death, so I forced myself sidewise till I found myself free from so much pressure, and, stretching out my ice-axe, I felt about till I could hook it on to ice or stone; and as I drew myself along by the handle the water grew less deep, then shallower still; and as I made my way it was over stones among which water ran, and I felt about with my axe, puzzled, for it was so strange. There was the water running over my feet, but gently, and the rushing river a little way behind. What did it mean? why was it so? Those were the questions I asked myself till the light came."

"Ah! it began to get light?" cried Saxe.

"In my brain, herr," said Melchior, smiling; "and I knew that this was a little side stream coming down some crack beneath the ice, one of the many that help to make the other big.

"As soon as I understood this I stopped, for I knew that the opening to these rivers would grow smaller and smaller, and that it would be of no use to go up there if I wanted to escape. So, wading along, I tried to reach the wall, to lean against it and rest before going back to the torrent, knowing as I did that this must be the only way.

"I must have taken a dozen steps before my ice-axe checked against the ice, and I threw myself against it, trying to calm my burning head by resting it against what I took to be the arch of the large ice-cave into which I had found my way; but, instead of the wall leaning over toward me, as it would in a rugged arch, it sloped away. I did not notice this much as I leaned forward, for the ice felt delightfully cool against my burning head; and as the coldness went in farther and farther, I seemed to be able to think better and clearer, and this set me trying about with the axe, till I found that I was at the bottom of a great ice slope, as it seemed to me; and as I raised my head and gazed upward my heart gave a great throb, for there, high up, far away, was a gleam of light, and at the sight of that strength came to me, and I grasped my axe tightly, for that meant escape from that terrible place, and life.

"I was quite cool then, and I knew that I must be at the bottom of some crevasse. I knew, too, that the ice sloped away from me, therefore it would most likely do so all the way up; so I had only to climb to the surface of the gletscher and walk away."

"I'm beginning to understand now," said Saxe. "An ice slope is not a very serious thing to a guide who has worked upon the mountains ever since he was a boy, herrs. Feeling satisfied now that I had but to cut my way up step by step, I grew more easy in my mind, glanced up, and then, after a little feeling about in the darkness, I chipped my first step, just enough for my toe to hold in, rose up and cut another."

"In the dark? How did you know where to hit?" cried Saxe. "I could cut steps in the ice blindfold, herr," said Melchior sharply. "When the hands and arms have grown used to doing a thing, they can do it even if the eyes are not watching them. Of course I do not say I always struck exactly in the right place, but I could get sufficiently near to make a notch in the smooth ice; and I kept on, with my heart growing lighter as I chipped away, listening to the echoing of the blows and the hissing sound of the bits of ice as they slipped down the smooth face—for it was perfectly smooth, and as if polished.

"Step by step I cut my way. It was slow, tiring work; but every notch made was a step nearer to liberty, and I worked on. As I climbed higher I had to cut my notches deeper, for the slope was not quite so easy, and the slightest slip would have sent me to the bottom; and from the height to which I had at last climbed this might have meant a broken arm or leg, for there was no water to fall into but a few inches trickling among the stones.

"And so I cut on and on, herrs, till, as I looked up far above me, I could see the gleam of the sun, and hope grew stronger and sent strength into my arms as I swung my axe.

"Higher and higher, always getting up by making a notch for each foot, till my arms began to grow heavy as lead. But still I worked on, every step cut bringing me nearer to the surface, though at the end of each hour's hard labour I seemed very little advanced; and at last, as I grew more weary, my spirits began to sink again, for the slope grew more and more steep, though I would not own to it myself. Still it was steeper and steeper, and I cut desperately, and made deep notches into which I forced my feet, while I cut again till the last part was nearly perpendicular; and after cutting my last step I felt that my task was done, for I had reached a ledge over which I was able to climb, till I could lie half upon it, knowing that I had come to where the wall went straight up, and that it would be impossible to hold on to that slippery ice and cut my way higher.

"Still, I would not give up, herrs; but reached up and cut till I felt that I was gliding off the narrow ledge, and then I had to rest, and use my axe to cut notches for my feet to hold and others for my hands, for the least slip would have sent me down like a stone in a couloir, and I wanted rest before I had to get down again. I asked myself if I could; and a cold feeling came over me, as I thought that all this work had been for nothing, and that the end had now really come.

"And then I took my axe again as it lay beside me, and began cutting in a madly foolish kind of way. There was no use in it. I could not help myself by cutting; but I could hear the lumps of ice hissing down, and it made me think, so that the work did me good. More, it did other good, for, as I have thought over it since, it has made me try to pray as a man should pray who has been delivered from a terrible fall. For those last blows of my axe must have been the ones which you heard, Herr Saxe—the blows which brought you to my help just when my arms were ready to sink to my side, and I had fully determined in my own mind that I could never get down from the ledge to the little river alive."

"How deep was it, Melk?" cried Saxe excitedly.

The guide shook his head.

"You know the rest, gentlemen. You came and saved my life just when I had not sufficient strength left to have tied the rope safely about my waist. It was the noose which saved me, and I could not believe in that safety till you dragged me over the side of the crevasse. Herr Dale— Herr Saxe, how am I to say words to show you how thankful I am?"

"Do not try," said Dale quietly. "Come, Saxe boy, you have let your coffee grow cold."

"Yes," said Saxe; "but it has made my head hot. I don't feel as if I want any breakfast now."

"Nonsense: you must eat, for we have a long journey back to the chalet."

"To the chalet, herr? You do not want to go round by the chalet?"

"Indeed, but I do. You will want a fortnight's rest after this adventure."

The guide stared at him in astonishment.

"A fortnight's rest!" he echoed; "and with weather like this! Oh, herr, it would be madness: I want no rest."

"Why, you do not mean to say that you feel equal to going on?"

"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!" ejaculated 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.

"Yes, up there now. I have often known men ascend mountains on what seemed to be glorious days, and there was only a fine filmy veil to be seen floating round the higher parts—just enough to hide them perhaps for an hour together; but when they came down to the little hotel in the valley, they had a long tale to tell us of having been frostbitten while clinging to the snow slopes and ice-covered rocks, not daring to venture up or down on account of the tremendous, tempestuous wind blowing."

"I say, look here!" cried Saxe, pointing to another peak from which lovely, silvery streamers of cloud spread out: "you don't mean to say that there's bad weather up there now?"

"Indeed, but I do; and if you asked Melchior he would—"

"Hi! Melk!" cried Saxe, as the man came slowly up after them, "what sort of weather is it up there now?"

"Terrible, herr," replied the man, shading his eyes. "The snow must be falling heavily, and a wind raging fierce enough to tear any man from his hold."

"Well!" ejaculated Saxe, "I am puzzled. Why, the weather looks glorious—like summer!"

"But you forget that if you only go high enough up it is eternal winter. The tops of those mountains are in the midst of never-failing snow, which is gradually compressed into ice and—"

"Would the herr like to go to the foot of the glacier and examine the ice grotto?"

"We did do that in the other valley."

"But this is a larger cave, herr; and besides, it is the entrance to the one where I journeyed down."

"Can't you settle yourself for a quiet day, Melchior?" said Dale, smiling.

"No, herr; I do not seem to be earning my money. It will be a very easy walk, and we can take the lanthorn and another candle; besides, it is quite fresh. I do not think any one has ever been in it but me."

"What do you say, Saxe?"

"That I should like to go," cried the lad eagerly; for half a day of comparative inaction had been sufficient to weary him, surrounded as he was by such a region of enchantment, where, turn which way he would, there was some temptation to explore.

"I am in the minority," said Dale, smiling; "but I mean to have my own way. No: I shall keep to my previous arrangements. To-day we will rest. To-morrow, if the weather is good, I'm going up to the bare face of that mountain on the other side of the glacier."

"The Bergstock," said Melchior. "Yes, it is one of the places I mean to take you to, herr; for the gletscher winds round behind it, and I hope you will find what you want there."

"I'm not half so eager to find crystals now, Melk," said Saxe that evening, as he sat beside the guide, glad that the day of inaction was at an end.

"Why so?" asked Melchior.

"Because we don't find any, I suppose."

"But when we do the young herr will be as eager as ever."

"Oh!"

"Is the young herr in pain?"

"No: only when I move. My arms are so stiff. I say, don't you feel a bit sore from your work yesterday?"

"Oh yes, herr," said the guide, smiling; "but the best way to ease pains like those is not to think about them."

"I dare say it is," grumbled Saxe; "but it seems to me that it would be easier to bear the pain. I couldn't forget a thing that's always reminding you that you are sore. But there, I am glad it's to-night. I shall go to roost in good time, so as to get a fine long sleep."

Saxe kept his word, and he slept soundly, only waking once when the mule uttered one of its peculiar squeals. But no one was sufficiently alarmed to get up, and the incident was forgotten next morning, when one of many days of an uneventful nature commenced, during which the party made excursions in different directions: into the ice grotto; across the glacier to the Bergstock; up to first one and then another snowfield, and among magnificent views in all directions, and under endless atmospheric changes such as gave constant variety to the surroundings. And every night Saxe confided to Melchior that he was tired of it all, and every morning was refreshed and ready for fresh action.

The perils of the crevasse adventure were almost forgotten; but it seemed to the boy that Dale shrank from going into any fresh danger, and this troubled him.

"I suppose Mr Dale thinks I behaved badly, and was too young," he said. "But only let me have a chance, and I'll show him I am not such a coward as he thinks."

Then came the evening when Melchior announced that the food supply must be renewed by a long journey to Andregg's chalet, for bread and coffee and butter could not be easily obtained, like wood.

"Will the herr come back with me, or shall I go alone?"

"Go alone, Melchior, and be as quick back as you can."

The next morning when they woke the guide and the mule were gone, probably having started at the first faint dawn.

"Are you going to wait about the tent till he comes back, sir?" said Saxe, as they sat over the breakfast they had prepared.

"No: we will have two or three little excursions of our own, just up to and along the edge of the snow-line; but to-day I should like to visit the glacier again, and see those two crevasses coolly."

An hour after they were well on their way, knowledge having made the task comparatively easy. But it was rather a risky journey, before they had arrived at the spot which was pretty deeply impressed upon their minds: for every now and then some mass of worn ice fell crashing down, and raised the echoes of the narrow valley, while a cool wind seemed to have been set free by the fall, and went sighing down the gorge.

They were prepared to find the lower crevasse, from which they had recovered Melchior, much less terrible by daylight. To their surprise, it was far more vast and grand, and as they advanced cautiously to the edge and peered down into the blue depths, they both drew breath and gazed at each other with a peculiarly inquiring look.

There were the notches Saxe had cut, but partly melted down by the action of the sun; there, too, were the holes chipped out and used to anchor the ice-axe; and then, as if fascinated by the place, Saxe advanced again to the edge.

"Take care!" said Dale warningly.

"Yes. I only want to see if I can make out the slope up which he climbed."

The boy lay down upon his chest and peered over, but gave quite a start directly, as he felt himself touched.

"I was only hooking you by the belt, my lad," said Dale, who had pushed the head of his axe through the boy's belt. "You can do the same for me another time."

Saxe flushed a little, and looked down again, feeling that Dale was treating him as if he were a child.

"Well," said his companion, "can you see the slope?"

"No: nothing but the blue darkness—nothing."

He drew himself away.

"It's a horrible place," he said.

"What are you going to do?"

"Only send a big lump of ice down."

"I suppose that comes natural to all of us," said Dale, smiling, and helping the lad turn over a huge block broken from one of the shattered seracs. "I never knew any one yet who did not want to send something down every hole he saw, even if it was a well."

The block they turned over was roughly cylindrical, and turned over pretty readily upon their using their axe handles as levers, and at last they had it close to the brink of the awful chasm, and paused for a few moments.

"No fear of its hurting any one—eh, Saxe?" said Dale; but he spoke seriously, for the terrible nature of the place impressed him, and before going farther the two again peered down into the awful gulf.

The effect was the same on each—a peculiar shrinking, as the thought came—"Suppose I were to fall?"

"Well, Saxe," said Dale, "shall we push the piece down?"

Saxe nodded, and placed the handle of his axe under the block. Dale did the same. They raised their hands together, and the great block went over and dropped out of sight, while they stood listening and waiting for the heavy bellowing crash, which seemed as if it would never come, and then far exceeded in violence anything they had imagined.

"It isn't stupid is it, to feel a bit frightened of such a place?" said Saxe, with his face all in wrinkles.

"I should say the person must be very dense and stupid who is not frightened of such an awful place. Here, let's get on: it seems rather waste of time to spend it going to these crevasses again; but it is interesting all the same."

They started upward now, and went nearly exactly over the same ground as before, till the upper crevasse was reached; and after going through the same performance of sending down a block of ice, Dale suggested that as it would be unwise to go farther up the glacier, here covered with snow, without the help of the guide, they should make for the side of the gorge, and at the first opening climb up and make their way over the lower slopes of the mountain, and so back to camp.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

THE BLACK RAVINE.

Perfectly simple to arrange, but very difficult to practise. For instance, they had to toil on quite a mile before the narrow crack, which formed the bed of a streamlet, offered itself as a way out of the glacier valley.

"I'm afraid this will be an awkward climb, Saxe," said Dale. "What do you say? Will you face the hard work?"

"Oh yes!" he cried. "It's better than going the same way back."

"Up you go, then."

Saxe went on, now on one side of the tiny stream, now on the other, the sides rising right and left almost perpendicularly at times. But there was plenty of good foot and hand-hold, so that Saxe made his way onward and upward at a fair rate for mountaineering, and in a very short time they had taken a last look of the glacier; the narrow rift, turned almost at right angles, growing blacker and more forbidding in aspect at every step.

"I don't believe there is any way out here!" cried Saxe at last. "It gets deeper and darker, as if it were a cut right into the mountain."

He had paused to rest as he spoke, and the gurgling of the little stream down a crack far below mingled with his words.

"Well, let's go a little farther first," said Dale. "I am beginning to think it is going to be a cul de sac."

He looked up to right and left at the walls of black rock growing higher the farther they went, and now quite made up his mind that there would be no exit from the gorge; but all the same, it had a peculiar fascination for both, from its seeming to be a place where the foot of man had never before trod, and the possibility of their making some discovery deep in among the black rocks of the weird chasm.

"Tired? Shall we turn back?" said Dale from time to time.

"Oh no! let's go a little farther. This ought to be the sort of place to find crystals, oughtn't it?"

"I can't give you any information, my lad, about that; only that I have seen no sign of any. Say when you want to turn back."

"All right. Oh! look here!"

The chasm had made another turn, and as Saxe spoke he climbed on a little farther, so as to make room for his companion to join him among the fragments of broken rock upon which he stood. And there, right before them, the walls seemed to run together in the side of a black mass of rock, which formed the base of a snowy peak, one which they recognised as having often seen, and now looking the more brilliant in contrast with the black rock from which it rose.

"We could get there in another quarter of an hour," said Saxe.

"Yes; but what good shall we do when we get there?" replied Dale. "You see that the rocks to right and left are not to be scaled, or that this place ends in a mere gash or split."

"But you never know till you get close up," said Saxe. "The rocks fold over one another; so that we may after all find a way out and over the mountain."

"Well, if you are not too tired we'll try. This stream must come from somewhere. Hear it?"

"Yes, I can hear," said Saxe, as he listened to the strange musical gurgle of running waters somewhere far down below the blocks which had fallen from the sides of the chasm.

He started on climbing from stone to stone—some planted solidly, others so nearly poised that they rocked beneath his feet.

"One good thing," he cried breathlessly: "you can't fall any lower. How narrow the place is!"

It grew narrower still before they reached the spot where the place ended in the cleft in the face of the black rock; but, just as the boy had said, there was a fold of the chasm, quite a knife-edge of stone round, and beyond which the stream came gurgling down, and apparently going directly upward to the right.

"There!" cried Saxe. "What did I tell you? This is the way up. Shall I go on?"

"Yes, a little way; but I did not reckon on these difficulties. We will only explore a little to-day. To-morrow we can come straight here earlier, and take our time."

The place was narrower than ever now, and the rocks rose perpendicularly, so high that the place was almost in twilight. It was nearly a repetition of the chasm up which they had come, save that one side was the mountain itself, the other a portion split off.

The mountain side proving the easier, as the stones in the bottom grew more massive and difficult to climb, the boy took to the slope, and made such rapid progress that Dale was left behind; and he was about to shout to Saxe not to hurry, when he saw that the boy was waiting some eighty or ninety yards in advance, and high up above the bottom of the gorge along which Dale had proceeded in a slower and surer way.

Dale went on till he was right below the boy, and then stopped to wipe his forehead.

"Let's get back, Saxe," he said: "there may be traces of this narrow crack going right round the mountain. Ready?"

There was no answer.

"Saxe!"

"Yes," rather hoarsely.

"Come down now, and let's go back."

There was again no answer.

"Why don't you come down?" said Dale.

"I—I'll come down directly."

"Curious place—very curious place!" said Dale, looking about him at the solid walls of rock. "I shouldn't wonder if we came upon crevices similar to those which we found lower down in the sides of the glacier: perhaps we may hit upon a cavern that we can explore. I must bring Melchior up here: he has a nose like a dog for holes of that kind."

He stood peering here and there with his back to Saxe, and did not turn for a few minutes. When at last he did, he saw that the boy was in precisely the same position.

"Why, Saxe, my lad," he said, "what are you doing? Why don't you come down?"

The lad turned his head very slowly till he could look down, and fixed his eyes upon his companion in a peculiar, wild way.

"What's the matter?—Giddy?"

"No."

"Come down, then."

"I—can't," said the boy slowly.

"Then climb on a little farther, and come down there."

"No: I can't move."

"Nonsense. This isn't a loadstone mountain, and you're not iron. Come down."

"I—I did try," said Saxe; "but I had to make a jump to get here, and I can't jump back: there's nothing to take hold of."

Dale scanned the position anxiously, seeing now for the first time that the rough angles and ridge-like pieces of rock along which the boy had made his way ceased about five feet from where he stood, and that he must have jumped on to a narrow piece of stone not a foot long and somewhere about a third of that width; and though, in the vast chasm in which they both were, the height above him, where Saxe was spread-eagled, as it were, against the perpendicular rock, looked perfectly insignificant, he was close upon a hundred feet up, and a fall would have been very serious, if not fatal.

"You foolish fellow!" Dale said cheerfully, so as not to alarm him at a time when he seemed to have quite lost his nerve: "pretty mess to get yourself in! Fortunately I have the rope."

As Dale spoke he looked about wildly for some means of utilising that rope; but he could see none.

"Why did you go up there instead of keeping down here?"

"I thought I saw an opening here," said Saxe; "and there is one big enough to creep in. I am holding by the side of it now, or I should go down."

"Then go on holding by the side," said Dale cheerily, though his face was working; and then, to take the boy's attention from his perilous position, "Not a crystal cave, is it?"

"Yes. I felt big crystals inside: I am holding on by one."

"Bravo! Well done, boy; but you are making yourself a front door."

"Don't—don't laugh at me, Mr Dale," said Saxe piteously. "It is very hard work to hold on."

"I'm not laughing at you, Saxe, my boy: only saying a word to cheer you up. You haven't got a crevasse under you, and if the worst came I should have to catch you. Now, let's see: here's a ledge away to your right; but it's too far for you to leap, and there is nothing to catch hold of. If I got the rope up to you, you could fasten it somewhere and slide down."

"Fasten it? To what?"

"Ay?—to what?" said Dale to himself. Then aloud: "You haven't a very good hold there, have you?"

"No—dreadful," came faintly.

"I say, boy; don't take that tone. Mountaineers are people full of resources. You say you have an opening behind you?"

"Yes."

"Then can you hold on with one hand?"

"I—I think so."

"Think! Say yes!" shouted Dale angrily. "Now, hold on with one hand."

"Yes."

"Where's your ice-axe?"

"I—I had forgotten that."

"I can see that, sir. Now put your hand behind you and pull it carefully out of your belt. Steady! there is no hurry. Don't drop it."

Saxe passed his hand behind him, and gradually hitched the axe out from where he had been carrying it like a sword while he climbed to the hole.

"That's better. Mind! Now push it into the hole and turn it across. Can you?"

Saxe obeyed his instructor, and Dale saw that the opening was about the level of the lad's waist, and evidently roomy—at least, amply large inside for the axe to be crossed.

"Now you've got something better to hold on by, and can hook your arm over it to rest your hand."

"Yes," cried Saxe, who was already doing this. "My hand was so horribly cramped, and it seemed as if you would never come."

"Time always seems long when we are in trouble. Now then, do you feel safer?"

"Oh yes," cried Saxe; and there was a complete change in his tone. "I can hold on now."

"Of course you can. Pretty sort of an Alpine hand you are, to give up without thinking of your tools!"

"Yes, I had forgotten my axe."

"You'll forget your head next, sir. Now, tell me: how am I to get the rope up to you?"

"Can you throw it?"

"No, I can't; nor you neither. Now, if you had been carrying it instead of me, how easy it would be! Of course you have not got that ball of string with you?"

"No," said Saxe sadly.

"No one should travel without a knife and a bit of string in his pocket; and yet, if you had a bit of string, it would not be long enough. Now, what's to be done?"

"I don't know," cried Saxe.

"That shows you are only an apprentice at mountaineering yet. I do know."

"You can see a way to get me down, sir?" said Saxe joyously.

"Yes: two ways. One is quick, short and dangerous."

"More dangerous than being as I am?"

"Yes, much; but for me, not you. The other will take longer, but it is safe."

"Then try that way," said Saxe eagerly; for he had quite recovered his nerve now, and would have been ready to jump to right or left had he been told.

"No, my lad; you are tired, and in an awkward place. My second way might fail too. It was to tear up my handkerchief and make it into a string to throw up to you, so that you could afterwards draw up the rope. No: my string might break. But I am as foolish as you are, and as wanting in resource. There," he continued, after a few moments' pause, "what a boaster I am! I did not even think of cutting a piece off the rope, unravelling it, and making it into a string."

"Yes, you could easily make that into a string," said Saxe anxiously.

"No, that would be a pity," said Dale; "and a practised climber ought not to think of such a thing. I ought," he said, scanning the rock carefully, "to be able to get up there above you, fasten the rope to some block, and then let it down to you."

"No, don't do that!" cried Saxe excitedly: "it is so easy to get up, and so hard to get down."

"Not with a rope," said Dale cheerily. "Let's see. Suppose I join you the way you came, and jump to you? Is there room for both?"

"No, no!" cried Saxe excitedly.

"Well, if I climb out to where you jumped, I can hand you the rope, you can pass it round the ice-axe, and slip down with it double and then draw it off. No: it is not long enough, and we should have to leave the axe behind. I must climb above you, boy; so here goes."



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

THE CRYSTAL GROTTO.

Dale threw down the rope from his shoulder, took off hat and jacket, replaced the rope like a scarf, and then stood looking upwards.

"Oh, pray be careful!" cried Saxe, rather faintly.

"Yes, miss," said Dale mockingly. "Why don't you come and take hold of my hand! There, boy, I have climbed before now, and I'll be as careful as I can. Hah! that's the better way. 'Take it coolly,' Saxe, as Jacob Faithful used to say. I'll soon have you down."

He went along the chasm a few yards, and then began to climb up the nearly perpendicular face of the rock, taking advantage of every niche and projection, and gradually getting higher and higher, but always farther away from where Saxe hung watching him with lips apart, and in constant dread lest there should be a sudden slip and a fall.

"And that would make it horrible," thought the lad. "What should I do then?"

Dale climbed on talking the while when he did not give vent to a good-humoured grunt over some extra difficult bit.

Saxe said nothing, for he felt hurt. It seemed to him that his companion was treating him like a child, and saying all kinds of moral things in a light way, so as to keep up his spirits; and, as Dale saw the effect his words produced, he said less.

"Rather a tough bit of climbing," he cried, after a few minutes' silence; "but I've had worse to do: for I've gone over pieces like this when there has been a fall of a thousand feet or so beneath me, and that makes one mind one's p's and q's, Saxe—precipices and queer spots—eh? But I shall soon do this. All it wants is a little, coolness and determination."

"Why are you going so far along that way!" cried Saxe, who liked this tone better.

"Because the line of the stratum runs this way, and higher up there is another goes off at an angle right above where you are; and there is a projection, if I can reach it, which will do for the rope: I could see it all from down below."

Saxe watched him breathlessly till he was on a level with the opening by which he clung, but fully forty yards away. There he turned and began to climb back, and always rising higher till he was some thirty feet higher than the opening, but still considerably to Saxe's right.

"Now," he said quietly, as he stood with his face close to the rock: "here is the spot, if I can get the rope over that projection."

"But then I could not reach it," said Saxe.

"I'll see about that," said Dale, carefully holding on with one hand while he drew the coil of rope over his head,—no easy task, with his feet resting upon a very narrow projection, and the rock against which he pressed himself nearly straight up and down.

"That's right," he said, as he let the coil rest upon one arm, and set the end free. "Now, Saxe, what's to be done next? There's a block up there if I could get a loop thrown over it; but lassoing rocks was not included in my education, and I'm afraid it will be rather difficult with the left hand."

To Saxe it seemed to be impossible, and he watched intently as he saw his companion double a portion of the rope so as to make a large loop, and to tie this he had to hold the twisted hemp right above his head, pressing his chest against the rock the while so as to preserve his balance, and more than once Saxe gave a gasp as it seemed to him that the venturous man was about to fall backward.

But he succeeded, and then let the loop and his arms drop down.

"Hard work," he said. "Five minutes' rest. Curious how wearying it is to hold your limbs in a fresh position. Now then," he continued, "I've got to throw that loop over the block up there left-handed. How many tries will it take?"

Saxe remained silent, for he was by no means hopeful; and he watched intently as Dale loosened the rings upon his arm and gathered two or three in his left hand, which he dropped again, while with his right he tried to get a good grip of the rock where there was scarcely any hold at all.

"Now," he said, as calmly as if he were about to perform some feat with a quoit on level ground, instead of being balanced up in a perilous position, where the slightest loss of equilibrium meant a fall on to rugged stones of over a hundred feet.

As he spoke he threw up the braced loop so truly that it went exactly over the projection, and several rings ran off from his arm and hung down.

"Not a bad throw," he said quietly. "I didn't know I was so clever, Saxe. The question is, will it hold?"

The test was soon applied, for he drew the rope in slowly, till the slack was all gathered in, tightened it more and more, and the loop glided off the projection and fell.

"If at first you don't succeed—eh, Saxe? You know the rest?" cried Dale, as he drew up the loop and coiled the rope on his arm again. "I must get it farther on."

He threw again, and once more lassoed the projection; but the loop dropped off this time with the weight of the rope, and he had to begin again making all his preparations as carefully as a man does in some perilous position.

Another throw, which proved a complete miss. Then another and another, each proving to be less accurate than the one which had gone before.

"Five minutes' rest," said Dale quietly. "My arm is getting tired."

A dead silence reigned then for a few minutes, during which time a dark shadow glided across the deep gully, and they heard the faint whizzing sound of the wings of an eagle, whose keen, cruel eyes looked down at them as if seeing prey.

"Now," cried Dale, "I must do this, Saxe. Don't be impatient with me, boy; and if it's any comfort to you, I may tell you that I am in a far worse position than you."

"Yes; I know," said Saxe hoarsely. "I wish I could help."

"Do so another time by not getting yourself into such a scrape. Hush! don't speak: I'm going to throw."

The loop went flying up; but at the same moment Saxe saw Dale slip a little, and it was only by a violent effort that he saved himself from falling, while, as a consequence, the loop missed again, and fell to the full length of the rings off the thrower's arm.

Saxe drew a deep breath, and watched now with a growing sensation of hopelessness as he saw each effort made, and every one after deliberate and careful gathering up of the rope and hanging it in rings upon the left arm. But no matter how he tried Dale's casts grew more and more erring, till, quite in despair, he stood fast, resting his weary arm, and said with an apologetic air—

"I wish I were not so clumsy, Saxe. I'm afraid I must try some fresh plan."

There was a long pause now, and Dale seemed to be thinking.

"Are you quite safe?" he said at last.

"I—that is, I can hold on," said Saxe sadly.

"That's right. I'm going to have one more try, lad, and if I fail I must climb again and see if I can get higher, so as to drop the loop over the rock; but I don't want to do that if I can help it, for, as you say, the getting down is bad."

He made a very long and careful preparation this time, and threw with so much vigour and want of accuracy that the loop missed; but a coil of the rope went right over the projection where the loop should have been, and the latter hung down nearly level with the thrower, and swinging to and fro some eight or ten feet away.

This was an unexpected complication, but Dale saw success in it; and after pausing for a few minutes to think, he began to climb sidewise toward it inch by inch over a part that was perilous in the extreme, till he was within four feet of the swinging loop. Then, glancing upward to make sure that the rope was well over the projection, he tightened the part he held, and, rising a little, let himself fall sidewise toward the loop, catching it easily, and swinging to and fro by the two ends of the rope as he vainly sought to find a hold for his feet.

"All right, Saxe," he said, as he rested one foot on a tiny boss; "I shall do it now." Then, helping himself by the double rope for hold, he climbed up the few feet between him and the projection, making use of every little crevice or angle for his feet, till he was able to get one arm right over the little block and hold on while he drew up the loop, cast off the piece of rope, and carefully arranged the loop in its place.

"Hurrah! That will not slip," he said.

"Pray—pray be careful," cried Saxe.

"Trust me: I will," said Dale, seizing the rope now with strong grip and lowering himself till he was hanging from it with both hands; then gliding down lower and lower, while Saxe felt puzzled, but dared not speak for fear of upsetting his companion at some special moment.

Dale lowered himself till he was level with the place he had quitted, and then began to swing himself to and fro across the face of the rock, evidently meaning to land upon the projection he had occupied so long. But after several trials he found that he had not sufficient length of rope for this, and he had to lower himself a little more, showing the while the most implicit confidence in the rope as he began to swing again, describing a larger and a larger arc, till he checked himself when farthest distant from Saxe, upon a projection which just gave him room enough to stand on a level with Saxe.

It was ticklish work, but by the help of the rope he maintained his balance till he could find hand-hold and stand perfectly upright.

"There, Saxe," he said, rather breathlessly, "the game is won."

"I don't see it," said Saxe mournfully.

"Well, I do. I shall throw the rope across to you. Catch it, and take your ice-axe and descend."

"But you must not be left in that dangerous position."

"Not long, I hope," said Dale quietly. "You can swing the rope to me as soon as you are down, and by its help I can swing myself to your ledge and examine your discovery. Now then: look out! Ready!"

"Yes."

"Then off!"

The rope was thrown and caught dexterously by Saxe, who swung loose in the act and slipped a little way down.

"Never mind the ice-axe," cried Dale, as he saw the lad begin to climb up again. "I'll bring that down with me."

Saxe ceased his efforts to regain his former level, and let himself glide down to the bottom of the gully, where he could climb forward till he was beyond where Dale was clinging and draw the rope right into his reach.

"Let go!" cried Dale, seizing the welcome rope; and as Saxe obeyed he swung himself to and fro again, till this time he was able to land himself on the ledge the boy had just quitted, and maintained his position by thrusting his arm into the opening and grasping the handle of the axe.

"Well," cried Saxe, "is it a crystal cave?" For once more on terra firma, the peril of his late position was pretty well forgotten.

"Without a doubt," was the reply, after a pause. "I was beginning to bully you horribly, but after this I suppose I must hold my tongue."

Saxe's spirits, which had been down to zero, rose now to the highest point.

"Can you break a piece off with the axe?" he said, as he saw that Dale had twisted the rope round his arm for safety, and was reaching into the hole as far as his hand would go.

"That is what I have just done," replied Dale; "and now I have lost it. No: I have it. I can hook it out now. Here it comes." And as Saxe stood on one side and watched, he saw his companion's arm drawn out, then by degrees the handle of the axe, and in imagination he saw a tiny piece of crystal drawn along by the steel head.

"I have it now," cried Dale. "Ah!"

He uttered a loud ejaculation, for his feet had slipped from the narrow ledge, and he was hanging by one arm, turning slowly round and round.

A sharp struggle enabled him to regain his position, and once back there he drew out the axe completely, thrust it behind him, through his belt, and then pushed his hand into the orifice again.

"Throw me a bit of crystal down, and I'll catch it," said Saxe.

Dale laughed, and held out a bluntly pointed, angular piece of dart stone that looked almost black as he thrust it into his breast. Then, grasping the rope with hands and feet, he slid slowly down and stood by his companion's side.

"A nice adventure this," he said, "when I had come out for a quiet day!"

He drew the crystal from his breast, and held it up for Saxe to see.

"But it's so black-looking," cried the latter, as he took hold of the great dark crystal, pure-looking and clear as its name suggested, while every angle was sharp and perfect as if it were the production of that very day.

"Black?" said Dale. "So much the better. It is a very valuable kind, and there are plenty more. As far as I could make out, some are very large. Saxe, my lad, we must not think of the trouble and danger, for we both have been in great peril, and I talked lightly just to keep up your spirits,—I say we must not think of the troubles, for you have made a marvellous find, and I congratulate you."

"Then you are satisfied?" said Saxe eagerly.

"More than satisfied. You could not have done better. Now to secure our find. We must not leave the rope there, because that would betray the place."

"But nobody ever comes here."

"We hope nobody has been here, my boy; but, according to my experience, somebody will be sure to come now and find it."

"But how are we to get the rope up again if we take it down?"

"We shall have to scheme it somehow, my lad. What man has done I have no doubt he can do again."

"But we must leave it," said Saxe, with a laugh, for he was in the highest spirits now. "We can't get it down."

"Indeed!" said Dale. "I think I provided for that;" and taking hold of the bottom, he gave the rope a sharp shake, sending a wave along it which snatched the loop from the projection, and the strong hempen line dropped at their feet.

"I hardly expected that," cried Saxe, proceeding to coil it up; "but it will be a terrible job to get it there again."

"We shall see," said Dale, as the loop was unfastened, the end twisted about the coil, and he once more threw it over his shoulder, after resuming his coat. "Now for camp. I little expected to make such a discovery when we started. Saxe, we shall have to pitch our tent up here when Melchior comes back."

"In this gloomy crack? Why, there will be no food for Gros!"

"Nor for us unless we bring it. I dare say we shall manage; but Melchior will be disappointed when he finds that we have made the discovery without his help."

As he spoke Dale looked up the gorge toward the sky, scanning the jagged edges of the summit.

"I hope no one has been watching us," he said. "It would not be very pleasant to find that any one has been spying all our actions, ready to take advantage of our find. There, come along! We cannot stop to watch the place, even if we felt this had been the case, for we've a long journey back out of this place, and then down the glacier home."

They began their arduous descent of the rugged place, Saxe walking behind, till Dale stopped by where the water, which had been gurgling along out of sight, rose now to the surface, so that they could obtain a refreshing draught.

As Saxe rose from his knees and wiped the drops from his mouth, he looked at Dale curiously.

"Well, what is it, boy?"

"What made you say about it being awkward if some one were watching us?"

"Oh, I don't know. The idea occurred to me. Why do you ask?"

"Because—perhaps it's fancy—it always seems to me that some one is watching us."

"What?"

"Those stones tumbling about our ears, and that glimpse I got of something going along the mountain; and then that night when some one came and made Gros cry out!"

"Oh, fancy, my lad—fancy," cried Dale; but there was a quick nervous tone in his utterance, and he walked on now toward the mouth of the ravine in a hurried manner, which suggested that he was thinking deeply about Saxe's words; and he was very silent all the way back to camp.



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

AN UNSEEN DANGER.

"I shall be glad when Melchior comes back," said Dale, as they sat resting that night, with the dark shadows gathering in the valley, and the various peaks burning still in the sinking sunlight like glowing fire.

"I suppose he may be here any time now?" replied Saxe.

"Yes—no: he will be sure to have a heavy load, and he will not try to hurry the poor beast."

They had had the crystal out to examine again, and the more it was judged the higher Dale's opinion of it grew.

"No," he said suddenly: "that would not do at all."

Saxe stared at him, for this remark had no bearing upon what had passed before.

"I said that would not do at all, Saxe, to have some one watching our movements, and taking advantage of our being away to profit by them. Still, I feel pretty safe so far, and to-morrow we will climb to the mouth of that gully and stop about it, even if we do not go up."

"But suppose anybody came and took them after we had discovered them: wouldn't that be stealing!"

Dale shook his head.

"Oh no. These people who make discoveries of curiosities in the mountains consider they have a perfect right to them, as sons of their fatherland; and, as foreigners, I'm afraid we should get a great deal of law and no profit if we raised the question. The best way is to keep our discoveries as secret as we can. Now, then! what do you say to drawing the curtains and going to sleep?"

"I'm ready," said Saxe; "but my! what a lot of adventures we are having in so short a time!"

"All lessons for you in mountaineering, my lad. Good night."

"Good night," said Saxe drowsily, as he lay down inside the tent, and at an hour when he would have thought it absurd to think of going to sleep at home. But nature was quite ready, and as he watched Dale fastening down the door of the tent with a peg, he dropped right off to sleep, but only to start awake again, to sit up, and stare wonderingly.

"I said we have our crystal to take care of now, boy," said Dale, laughing at the comical figure Saxe cut; "and we must not invite a visit from burglars by leaving the front door open. There, good night once more, and don't have a nightmare, and get dreaming about being fixed on a mountain shelf, like an English ornament, for strangers to see!"

"That's too bad," said Saxe drowsily. "I did find the crystal cave."

"So you did, Saxe, and it is too bad. Never mind, my lad. You've done well. Once more—good night."

Was it the next minute after saying that?

Saxe was not sure, but it seemed to be directly, though it could not have been, for instead of being twilight it was now quite dark.

"What is he doing?" thought Saxe, as he heard the faint sound of moving about. The canvas door of the little tent was open, for he could feel the cool night air blowing in upon his face, with the crisp, bracing sensation of wind off the snow-capped mountains.

Saxe lay still listening. He was very sleepy, and now, as he came to the conclusion that it must be close upon daybreak, and Dale had risen to light the fire and make coffee so that they might start for the ravine as early as possible, he determined to lie perfectly still and feign sleep till the last minute, and a sharp summons bade him rise.

It is that last bit of snooze which is so enjoyable. One goes to bed because it is time, and after a good deal of waiting sometimes one goes to sleep; but it is not the delicious, easy-going sleep of the last half-hour in the morning—a sleep so enticing to most people: at all events, boys feel as if they would barter all the rest of the night for that half-hour—the last before rising.

The rustling went on, and Dale went out, only to come in again.

"How stupid it is getting up so soon!" said Saxe to himself. "It's all very well when you've to cross a pass before the snow melts; but to be always getting up when it is cold and dark, and sitting down shivering to your breakfast, when you might be quite warm in the sunshine if you started at decent time, is so absurd."

He lay thinking.

"He doesn't seem to have lit the fire yet, for I can't hear it crackling," he said to himself after a time. "Perhaps he'll rouse me up directly to light it. Bother the old fire! I hate lighting fires. Oh, it does make me feel so cross to be roused up when one hasn't had enough. I haven't half done. I could go on sleeping for hours, and enjoy it, and get up all the better for it, and be stronger and more ready to climb afterwards. No wonder I feel a bit tired sometimes!"

Saxe had no difficulty about lying still, for every limb seemed to be fast asleep. It was only his head that felt as if he was awake, and that only half.

The moving went on; but no fire crackled, and he was not roused up.

"What can he be doing?" thought Saxe sleepily. "I don't know. It must be packing up for our start. Let's see, when will Melchior be back? This morning, I suppose. Wish he was here now to light the fire. He's so used to it—he does it so well; and then, he always makes such delicious coffee, that I enjoy my breakfast far better than when we make it ourselves, or Mr Dale makes it, and—Yes, all right!"

"'Wake, Saxe? Sure?"

"Yes, quite awake."

"I'll get you to light the fire this morning, my lad: one of my arms feels a little strained."

Dale drew the canvas door aside and stepped out, while Saxe lay wondering how it was that it was quite dark one moment, when Dale was moving about, and broad daylight the next.

"I must have been asleep," he exclaimed. "But what was he doing that he hasn't lit the fire? How strange!"

Saxe sat up and rubbed his eyes and yawned; then leisurely slipped on the jacket and handkerchief he had taken off before lying down; and the more wakeful he grew the more puzzled he became, till a happy thought occurred to him.

"I know," he said: "It wasn't getting-up time. His arm hurt him in the night, and he was walking about on account of the pain. I wish I had spoken to him. Too late now. Never mind; I'll make haste, and get him a cup of coffee."

Saxe bustled about, and soon had the fire crackling and the coffee kettle full of fresh cold water over the bright flame.

It was daylight, but some time yet to sunrise, and the air was very cool, but Saxe hardly felt it in his busy preparations; and he was eagerly watching the kettle when Dale came back.

"Ah! that's right, my boy," he cried. "I shall be glad of a cup of coffee."

"Is your arm better, sir?" said Saxe.

"My arm is better, comrade," replied Dale, smiling. "I thought we had decided that there was to be no 'sir' out here, but only a brotherly salute, as befits mountaineers."

"I had forgotten," said Saxe; "and the other seems so natural. I am glad it is better."

"Thanks, lad. I've been to the little cascade, and held it under the icy cold water as it fell. The numb chill seems to have done it no end of good."

"You should have spoken to me when it was so bad in the night."

"I could not," said Dale, looking at him wonderingly.

"Was it so very bad, then?"

"No; it was not bad at all. I did not feel it till I got up."

"That's when I mean—while it was dark."

"You've been dreaming, Saxe. I did not get up when it was dark; and, by the way, when did you get up and open the tent door?"

"I didn't," cried Saxe: "it was open. I felt the cold when you woke me with getting up and going in and out."

"Why, Saxe," cried Dale, seizing the boy by the shoulder, "do you mean to say you heard me moving about in the night?"

"Some time when it was dark; and I thought you were dressing."

"This is very strange," cried Dale, who looked puzzled.

"Hah!" cried Saxe excitedly; "where did you put the crystal?"

"In the leather bag that I used for a pillow."

"Then it couldn't have been that," said Saxe, in a disappointed way. "I thought—"

"I don't know so much about that," cried Dale excitedly; and he ran into the tent, dropped upon his knees by the leather bag, and tore it open.

"Gone!" he said.

"That's what I thought," cried Saxe excitedly. "Then there is some one keeps on watching us, and he stole that crystal in the night."

Dale closed the bag with a snap, and stood gazing up at his companion for some minutes in silence.

"This is very ugly, Saxe," he said; "and I don't like it."

"But that's it, isn't it?" cried the boy.

"I am afraid so. I can only think you must be right, unless one of us took it."

"Took it!" cried Saxe. "Oh, Mr Dale, you don't think I would take it?"

"No, my lad, of course not," cried Dale, bringing his hand down on the boy's shoulder with a hearty slap; "but I think it's quite likely that after the excitement of yesterday, and the remarks you made just before lying down, that you may have dreamed that the crystal was not safe, and taken it and hid it somewhere."

"Oh, impossible!" cried the boy.

"No, quite possible; and if you have not done this, I think it is quite likely that I may. Why, Saxe, our brains were regularly crystallised last night."

"Oh! I don't think it's anything to laugh at," said the boy seriously. "It could not have been, for I was awakened by hearing some one moving about."

"Yes; and you thought it was I."

"Yes."

"Then it must have been, and sooner or later we shall find where I have hidden it. Come: you are sure it was I? You saw me?"

"No; it was too dark for that. I only thought it was you."

"Then it must have been, for you would have felt the difference in some way if it had been any one strange. Well, I'm glad of it, Saxe; for it would have been ugly and unpleasant coming to rob us wherever we rested. Why, of course, I remember!"

"What—taking it?" cried Saxe.

"No. What did I say about fastening the door, so as not to tempt burglars?"

"I remember you said something of the kind, but I was terribly sleepy."

"You were. Well, I said that; and of course I went and dreamed about burglars, and got up, I suppose, in my sleep to take care of the crystal. There, don't worry about it any more, and let's have breakfast."

"But the stones, the figure I saw, and the night alarm?"

"Oh, fancy, I dare say, boy," cried Dale, pouring out his mug of coffee, while the boy followed suit, but with his brow wrinkled up with trouble. "Pity we have no milk. That's the worst of being too high up in the mountains. Come, eat away! the bacon's cooked better than Melchior's, and he's almost the prince of bacon chefs."

"I—I don't feel as if I can eat any breakfast this morning," said Saxe drearily.

"Nonsense, boy! Why, even if it were as you have imagined, what would it matter? We should only have to take extra precautions: set a watch, perhaps, as the sailors do. We shall have Melchior back soon, and we shall hear what he has to say. There, go on—eat. You can't work without. We've found one crystal cave, and that encourages us to find more. You can't help me if you starve yourself; and I want to get you up to the top of one of the highest mountains about here yet."

The result was that Saxe made a very hearty breakfast; for after the first mouthful or two, he forgot his mental troubles, and obeyed his companion with all his might.

The meal ended, the wallet was stored with all they would require for the day; and as Saxe arranged the contents, he looked up at his companion.

"What is it?—something else gone?"

"No," replied Saxe: "I mean yes—gone. There will be scarcely anything left to eat for tea when we come back, unless Melchior is here."

"Ah, yes, Melchior," said Dale, taking out his pocketbook and writing down in German—

"Gone up the right side of the glacier. Look out for cross chipped in the ice opposite a black ravine."

"There," he said, tearing out the leaf, "I'll put this on the big stone by the tent door, and another stone upon it to keep it down."

He suited the action to the word; and soon after, fully equipped for their little journey, the pair started, descended in due time to the glacier, where the tiny streams were trickling fast in the hot sun, and then toiled on and on through the never-wearying scenery, past the ends of the two great, now very familiar, crevasses, and sat down at last to a light lunch off the entrance to the black ravine.

Here, as soon as they had finished their meal, Dale lightly chipped a cross in a piece of smooth ice, just off the entrance; while Saxe climbed up the steep valley side a little way, threw himself down upon a flat ledge of rock, and began to look cautiously round, scanning the opposite side of the valley, and then up and down and up again.

"Hist!" he whispered suddenly; "don't look up. Some one watching us."

"Whereabouts?"

"Across the valley, high up to the right of some tall, rugged seracs."

Dale slowly sank down on the ice behind a great block of granite, which must have fallen from the mountain side and been borne down upon the glacier. The next minute he was peering carefully round from one side.

"Yes, I can see him, lad," he said; "but I don't believe that fellow would touch a crystal if there were thousands."

"You always think these people are so honest!" cried Saxe. "Well, what could he do with it? I never knew one of them yet who cared for crystals. Ah! there he goes, right up over the snow. Look! look! Saxe. Isn't it wonderful how an animal can dash at such a speed over those dangerous places!"

"Why, it must be a chamois!" cried Saxe, in disgust at his mistake.

"Yes; and I dare say there is a little herd of them somewhere up yonder in the mountain. Now are you ready to own that you are a little accustomed to give rein to your imagination?"

"I suppose so," said Saxe, rather dolefully. "It seems so easy to make mistakes."

"Yes, we all find that," said Dale merrily. "Now take another look round, and see if you can see squalls."

"Now you are laughing at me," said Saxe resentfully. "No: I am in earnest. Take a look round, boy, and then we'll go up the ravine and satisfy ourselves that it is all safe, and come back after a quiet investigation, so as to see whether there are other ways of fixing our rope. I should like to go up higher, too, and try whether we cannot get out on to the mountain, as I at first proposed."

Saxe swept their surroundings as well as he could, and paused to gaze at an ice-fall on the opposite mountain, a dull, heavy peal like thunder having announced that there had been a slip.

It was very beautiful in the bright sunshine, and looked wonderfully like water as it plunged down into a dark-looking crack, which Dale declared must be a huge bergschrund, between the snow and rock.

But there was no human being in sight, as far as Saxe could see; and as soon as he had descended, they began to climb the little lateral valley as on the previous day.

Hardly, however, had they passed out of sight, before high up on the mountain slope, what at first sight seemed to be a bear came into sight, creeping cautiously in and out among the stones, till it reached one of the many ledges of a precipice, and trotted along toward the edge of the lateral valley, over which it peered cautiously, and then drew back and went higher, repeating the action several times, and in the distance looking more and more bearlike in its movements, only that there was this difference, that instead of the travellers stalking the bear, the animal seemed to be bent on stalking them.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

WITHIN A HAIR'S BREADTH.

A long and tiresome climb over and amongst the shattered blocks which filled the lower part of the chasm; but with the help of previous knowledge they got along pretty quickly, till they reached the rocks beneath the narrow opening—a place which looked so insignificant that the wonder was that it had not escaped Saxe's eyes.

"Now," said Dale, gazing up, "what we have to do is to puzzle out some easy way of getting up and down. What do you say, Saxe?"

"I think we ought to have a strong iron bolt or bar driven into a crack just above the cave; then tie a rope to it, and it will be easy enough to go up and down."

"First catch your hare," cried Dale merrily. "How is the bar or bolt to be driven in, my lad?"

"Oh, something after the fashion of our getting up there yesterday."

"Oh yes; something after the fashion of yesterday's attempt. Do you know, Saxe, I think we both had enough of that job yesterday; and but for the discovery of the crystals we should have been sadly out of heart."

"Let's leave it till Melchior comes back," said Saxe, as a way out of the difficulty.

Dale nodded, and after another long look at the crack in the solid rock and its surroundings, they turned their attention to a farther climb up the ravine to try whether it would be possible to get out there and make their way across.

Another long and tedious climb ensued, during which, without declaring the way to be impassable, they both averred that it was so extremely difficult that they thought it would be of no utility, and after some four hours' hard work assisting each other up by means of ice-axe and rope, they were glad to begin the descent.

But the toil was not altogether barren, for two niches were found where there seemed to be every likelihood of crystals existing within the caves, whose mouths they seemed to be, and after a certain time devoted to refreshing they turned to go back.

"I doubt very much whether any one could get along this way, Saxe," said Dale, as he held the rope for his young companion to slide down, afterwards doubling it for his own use, so as to have a great loop round a block to enable him to loosen one end and draw upon the other.

"I hope they'd enjoy the hard work if they could," said Saxe breathlessly. "Oh, what a lot of bits of skin one does knock off up here!"

"Good for the sticking-plaster makers, Saxe," said Dale. "Come along, my lad: the sun beats down very hot here."

"But what are we going to do to-day?" asked Saxe.

"Nothing. This has only been a reconnoitring trip. To-morrow we shall have Melchior back, and we can get to work in earnest."

"But are we going to do nothing else but get crystals? Aren't we going to climb any more mountains?"

"Oh yes: we must do another or two, and perhaps combine pleasure with profit. Let's see: we must be getting near the cave."

"Round that next corner," said Saxe decisively.

"How do you know?"

"Because I can see the piece of black overhanging rock which I felt compelled to stare at all the time I was stuck fast on that shelf. But, I say, Mr Dale, do you feel pretty sure that Melchior will be back at the tent when we get there?"

"I cannot be certain; but—no—yes—I can be certain," said Dale quickly. "I am sure he will not be waiting for us at the tent."

His manner puzzled the lad, who looked at him curiously.

"Well?"

"What made you change so suddenly, sir? One minute you thought one way, the next minute you thought differently."

"Because I had good reasons," replied Dale. "Look!"

Saxe looked here and there, and in every direction but the one indicated by Dale's nod.

"I don't see anything, sir."

"Try again, boy. There, on that stone, with his back to us."

"A chamois!" cried Saxe eagerly.

"Chamois don't smoke pipes, my lad," said Dale laughingly.

"I see now," cried Saxe, and he burst out into his imitation of a Swiss jodel, which was answered back as Dale thrust his fingers into his ears.

The boy looked at him as he ceased his cry, and a curious smile puckered up his face.

"Don't you like Melchior's jodel, sir?" he said drily.

Dale understood him, and responded with a laugh; but no more was said, for Melchior sprang down from the rock which he had made his observatory as lightly as a goat, and came to meet them.

"Back again, then," said Dale.

"Yes, herr; and I found your note with the stick through it by the tent door."

"You mean with the stone lying upon it?"

"No, herr: a piece of sharpened pine-wood, driven through it to hold it down."

"Ah, well, you found it," said Dale, with an uneasy glance at Saxe, whose forehead had grown wrinkled.

"Yes, herr, I found it, and followed you till I saw your mark on the ice, and came up here."

"You felt, then, that we came up this ravine!"

"Oh yes, herr; and I was not surprised. It is one of the places I thought likely for crystals, and I see you have found some."

"Pound some? How do you know?" cried Saxe.

"Because I see you have been to one cave and left some of your treasure behind. I found this just inside the way leading to it."

"Then you climbed up?" said Saxe, taking a little crystal of the size of his finger from the guide's hand.

"No, herr; I climbed down," replied Melchior.

"From where? Did you come over the top?"

"No, herr; from the mouth, by the glacier, I came right along the bottom, and turned down into the chasm below."

"What chasm below?" said Dale eagerly.

"Is it possible the herr does not know?"

"We have seen no chasm but this one."

"Then you have not found a cave for crystals?"

"Oh yes!" said Saxe: "there it is;" and he pointed up at the face of the narrow valley to where the dark opening looked like a black mark on the rock.

"I see," said Melchior, looking up. "Yes, that looks a likely place too. I had not seen that."

"It has quite large crystals in it," said Dale.

"Then the herr has been up to see?"

"Yes, Saxe found it; but it is very difficult to get to. How are we to climb up and fasten a rope!"

"It is quite easy," said the guide; and, going back, he made for the ledge, along which he made his way coolly enough till he came to the gap, across which he leaped, thrust his hand into the orifice, and then, to Saxe's horror, leaped back again with wonderful activity, came down and joined them.

"These things have been so little asked for that they have not half been hunted out. I could have got hundredweights if I had known that they were of value to make it worth while."

"But that is a good cavern up there," cried Saxe, who now breathed more freely, as he saw the guide safely down without breaking his neck.

"Oh yes, herr, I dare say; but the one I have found is, I think, better."

"Show us it," said Dale. And after going back about a hundred yards, Melchior suddenly disappeared as if by magic.

"Hi! Melchior! where are you!"

"Here, herr," he replied, showing himself again from behind one of the great jagged masses of stone which strewed the ravine. "There is a great crack here."

They climbed over some awkward rocks and joined him, to find that a dismal chasm of great depth went off here at a sharp angle; and some little distance down one of its rugged walls he pointed out a dark opening which seemed unapproachable at first, though a little further examination showed that it was quite possible for a cool-headed man to get down—one who would not think of the dark depths below.

"How came you to find this place?" said Saxe. "We have come by here three times now without seeing it."

"I told you, herr. I found that crystal just there at the entrance to the narrow split—by the stone where you saw me standing."

"And that made you think there must be a crystal cavern near?"

"Yes, herr; and there it is. I wonder it has never been found before. And yet I do not, for no one but an Englishman would think of coming in a place like this."

"Have you been down to it?"

"Oh yes, herr. It is easy enough to get to; but we will have the rope, to make it easier. Will you come down?"

"Yes; let's see it," said Dale eagerly, while Saxe felt a curious sensation of shrinking as he saw the guide secure one end of his rope to the nearest block of stone that stood up clear.

"Is that strong enough?" said Dale.

"Oh yes, herr; it is not a loose stone, but a solid piece of the rock, and would bear a dozen of us. I will go down first."

He took hold of the rope, slipped over the edge of the shelf upon which they stood, and lowered himself down from buttress to ledge and projecting block, and stood the next minute inside the narrow crack.

"Will you go next, Saxe?"

The boy did not reply, but, imitating Melchior's actions as nearly as he could, he lowered himself down, only hesitating once, when he was hanging over the dark hollow up from which came the noise of falling water.

"Come along, herr," said Melchior encouragingly, as he leaned out of the hole and looked up. "Down another foot, and you can find a place to rest upon. The remainder is as easy as can be."

Saxe found it so, for it only wanted confidence, and the next minute he was standing beside the guide and looking up from the opening as Dale now began to descend.

Saxe had to back into the black rift to make room for Dale to come, and he held on tightly by a projection from the rocky side of the cavern to stand listening to the trickling of water, evidently a great way below; and as the weird whispering sound came up, he could not repress a shudder.

But there was no time left him for reflections about the danger, for the next minute Dale was blocking out the light of the entrance.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "this looks a likely place. Here, let's have a match before we move. There may be all kinds of horrible pitfalls close at hand." He let go of the rope, which swung to and fro in front of the opening, and took out a box of wax matches.

"I quite thought you had been down here, herr," said Melchior. Then, as a match was struck and held up, he continued: "Yes, we must have the lanthorn here, herr, for it is dangerous. See how the floor is split up into great holes."

Feeble as the light of the match proved, it was bright enough to show that; and, when nearly burned out, Dale threw it from him, and it fell, still burning, down and down till it was a tiny spark and it was impossible to say at last whether it went out or disappeared still burning in the great depth below.

"Why, Saxe, we have hit at last upon a veritable crystal mine," said Dale, as he held up a fresh match above his head, whose light was reflected from the facets of hundreds upon hundreds of crystals depending from the roof and sides, and, as far as they could see for the tiny glow, encircling the whole place; while Saxe now found that the projection by which he held was a hexagonal piece as clear as glass.

"Yes, herr," said the guide triumphantly: "this is what you wished for."

"No," said Dale, throwing away the end of the match again. "Very interesting, Melchior; but not what I meant."

"Then I have not understood the herr," said the guide, in a disappointed tone.

"Oh yes; and brought us to the part of the mountains where these wonders of Nature are to be found. These are beautiful, but, as far as I can see, all very small."

"But there may be big ones, herr," cried Melchior.

"May be; but it is doubtful here. There, it does not matter, for in the other cave—that to which you climbed—there are splendid specimens."

"Is the herr quite sure?"

"Yes, for we brought one away, and Saxe hid it somewhere, and has forgotten the place."

"Mr Dale!" cried Saxe indignantly.

"Well, then, I did," said Dale, laughing. "There, both of you, I am quite content. I should not have murmured about these, but we have at our command some that are incomparably better; and to-morrow we will come properly prepared with lights, chisels and hammer, and see what we can do."

"I am very glad, herr; and I have one peak I can take you up—the Blitzenhorn—where I am nearly sure we can find the finest yet."

"Good: we will try it. Now let's get back and dine."

"Yes, that will be wise," said the guide, as Saxe pricked up his ears at the suggestion. "I journeyed nearly all last night, herr, so as to get back soon; and I hurried on as soon as I found your letter with the pine skewer through it."

"Under the stone, Melchior."

"No, herr: stuck down into the crack between two pieces of rock."

Dale said no more; and Saxe thought it strange, for he remembered the incident of securing the message perfectly.

"But Melk was tired and sleepy: he fancied it was secured like that," Saxe said to himself.

He had no time to think more, for Dale spoke to him. "Now, my lad," he said, "up with you; or shall one of us go first?"

"Oh, I'll go," said Saxe, turning to the gloomy opening, and reaching out his hand for the dull grey rope, which showed clearly against the black face of rock on the opposite side, not twenty feet away.

"Get a good hold, herr; next turn face inward, and swing yourself a little sidewise; then you will be on good climbing rock, and can easily get up."

Saxe nodded, took hold of the rope, turned round, reached up as high as he could, and then was about to throw his whole weight upon it, when it gave way, and came down upon him. This, with the surprise, threw him off his balance, and he would have gone down backward, headlong to the bottom of the narrow cleft, but for the action of the guide, who darted out one hand and caught him.



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

MISUNDERSTANDINGS.

Saxe dropped, but no farther than the sill of the entrance, where Melchior was able to hold him, while Dale reached over and gripped the boy by the belt and hauled him in.

"Oh, Melchior!" cried Dale indignantly; "I thought I could have trusted you to secure a rope."

"But I did—I did, herr!" cried the man passionately. "I could have staked my life upon that rope being secure."

"I spoke to you at the time about it not seeming safe."

"The herr said the rock did not look secure, not the rope. The rock has not come down."

"It is enough for me that the rope came down. Another instant, and that poor lad would have lost his life."

"Yes, herr; but we saved him. I cannot understand it."

"Has the rope broken?" said Dale, as it was hauled in.

"No, herr," said Melchior, as he examined the rope in the darkness; "and, see, the loop is here and the knots still fast!"

"It is very strange," said Dale.

"Yes, herr. Ever since I have grown up I have laughed at all the old stories about the dragons in the mountains, and the strange elves, gnomes, and kobolds said to live down in the deep mines; but what can one say to this? Is there an evil spirit to this crystal mine who is angry because we have come, and who seeks to punish us for intruding?"

"No, there is not!" cried Dale, with genuine English unbelief in such legends: "nothing of the kind. The loop slipped off the stone; so now climb up and fasten it safely, if you can."

There was such a sneer in this that Melchior looked at him reproachfully before reaching round the side of the grotto and then stepping out of sight.

"Rather an upset for you, my lad," said Dale kindly, as he took Saxe's hand, while they could hear the rustling and scratching made by Melchior as he climbed up, dragging the rope after him; for he had not stopped to coil it up, but merely threw the loop over his head and put one arm through it.

"Yes, I thought I was gone," replied the boy.

"It has made your hand feel wet, and set it trembling."

"Has it?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry; for I want you to get plenty of nerve out here."

"I'm sorry too, for I hate to feel afraid."

"That was enough to make any man feel afraid. I'm trembling too, my lad; and my heart felt quite in my throat for a few moments."

Just then the rope was shaken vigorously, and became still once more.

"It is quite safe now, herr!" cried the guide; "and I am holding it down too."

"Right!" shouted back Dale. "I'll go first this time, Saxe."

"No, sir! please let me go: I would rather."

"Do you feel cool enough?"

"That will make me cooler."

"Then go on. Stop! you had better have the rope midway fastened to your waist, and I can hold the other end; then you cannot fall."

"No, no!" cried Saxe, rather hoarsely. "Let me climb without."

Dale gave way rather unwillingly, and the boy seized the rope, gave it a tremendous tug, and then swung himself out sidewise and began to climb; while Dale leaned out and watched him, uttering a low sigh of satisfaction as he saw him reach the top, and then following without making use of the rope.

"Now," he said, as he reached the others, "how was it that rope slipped?"

"I cannot say, herr," cried Melchior. "Look, here: the loop is big enough for it to come off easily if some one took hold of it with both hands and drew it up quite two feet, but it could not slip off by itself."

"But it did."

Melchior shook his head.

"Oh, man, man, how can you be so absurd!" cried Dale impatiently. "You don't mean to say you believe any mischievous imp could have thrown it off?"

"What am I to believe, when the rope falls on us like that? There is no one here in this desolate, awful place—not even a wild beast."

"Stop!" cried Saxe: "are you sure? Would a bear do that?"

"Surely not, herr."

"I'll believe in the bear before I believe in the gnome or kobold!" cried Dale. "Oh, Melchior! now I have so far had so much respect for you as a frank, manly Switzer, don't spoil it by trying to cloak an error with a paltry excuse. You did not properly secure the rope; it came off; and it was an accident. You know it was an accident, so let it rest."

"I have tried hard to win the herr's confidence, and to deserve it," said the man coldly. "I secured that rope as I believe any guide upon the mountains would have fastened it. The rope gave way not by breaking or coming untied, and I cannot tell how. I told the herr the beliefs of my people, and that I had ceased to think that they were true; but we are seeking to penetrate the mysteries of the mines, and this accident has befallen us. I can say no more."

"Better not to say more," said Dale coldly. "Will you lead on?"

Saxe glanced in the guide's face, and gave him a look of sympathy as he saw how it was wrinkled and drawn with trouble; but nothing more was said, and he went on coiling up the rope as they passed along the dark chasm, only stopping to untie the knot as they reached the main rift and began the descent toward the glacier.

It was no place for conversation, even if Saxe had been so disposed; for every one's energies were taken up by the task of mastering the way between or over the rugged blocks which filled the bottom of the place. But at last, at a sudden turn, a gleam of the white ice was seen, and soon after Dale was busily obliterating the mark he had made that morning for Melchior's guidance.

Then began the slow descent, sometimes beside, sometimes over the glacier—wherever Melchior could indicate a short cut; the crevasses were passed, each bringing up its recollections of their adventures, and at last a more even part of their journey fell to their lot along the polished rock.

But Dale went on in silence, answering Saxe so shortly several times that he dropped back from walking abreast, and went on down for some distance half-way between his companions.

"I can't help it," he said to himself at last: "he must be offended if he likes. I don't believe poor old Melk could help the accident. I shall walk with him."

He waited for the guide to come up, and he was soon abreast, looking inquiringly at him, as if asking what he meant to say. The man's face was dark and heavy of aspect, and he was evidently deeply hurt by Dale's anger; and, in consequence, he looked up with a bright smile as Saxe asked him if he was tired.

"Oh no, herr," he said; "my legs are a little heavy, but not so heavy as my heart."

"Don't take any notice of that," said Saxe, in a low voice; "he did not mean anything much. He was angry because I was so nearly killed."

"Yes; and it was just," said the guide: "for I am answerable for your lives. It would have been most horrible if you had gone down there."

"Yes, of course it would," said Saxe lightly.

"And I have been thinking it over and over, herr, till I can think no more; for the thoughts always come to the same point. I cannot understand it."

"Why, the rope got worked up, Melk; that's all."

"No, herr—impossible: that loop could not have worked up unless hands touched it."

"Gnomes or kobolds?" said Saxe, smiling as he had not been able to smile in the gloomy ravine.

"Ah, herr! you laugh at the old fancy; but there the matter lies; and I am beginning to think that a great deal of our misfortune is due to the same cause."

"What! the stone-throwing from the mountain?"

"Yes, herr."

"Well, don't let us talk any more about it, or you'll be making me fancy all sorts of things after it is dark. How much farther have we to go?"

"A good piece yet, herr; but we know the way. There is no doubt about it. In a little while I shall hurry on before, and get the fire lit, so as to have the tea ready for Herr Dale. I am sorry I have angered him so."

"Don't say any more about it, and he will soon forget it all."

"Yes, herr—I hope so," replied Melchior; "but I cannot."

Half an hour after he stepped out, and went silently by Dale, touching his hat as he passed, and went on so quickly that he was soon out of sight; and then Dale slackened his pace a little, to allow Saxe to come up.

"Tired and hungry, my lad?" he said.

"Yes, both," replied the boy. "I hope Melchior has brought a chicken to broil for tea."

Dale laughed.

"Well, now you speak of it, I hope so too, for I suppose I am hungry; but all that business put eating out of my head. By the way, Saxe, I am sorry I spoke so sharply to Melchior. The man is very sensitive, and of course he cannot help having a lingering belief in the old superstitions of the people among whom he was raised."

"I suppose not," said Saxe thoughtfully.

"Why, in one of their old books the author has given copperplate engravings of the terrible fiery and other dragons which dwelt in the mountains. Superstitions die hard. But there—I dare say he will forget it by to-morrow."

"But don't you think that some one must have lifted off the rope?"

"No: I believe it was his careless tying."

"But I don't think he could be careless," said Saxe quickly. "Then, about that crystal being found. Somebody must have been down to that grotto, and dropped it as he came away. I think we are being tracked by people who wish us to fail."

"Then whoever it is must wish, for we are not going to fail, my boy. We must and will succeed, in spite of everybody. By the way, did you break off that crystal by which you held when you were in the grotto?"

"No, I tried," said Saxe; "but it was too firm, and I had not room to use my ice-axe, we were so close together."

"Never mind; to-morrow will do. We must get a grand collection of choice specimens, Saxe; and I hope that, as the Swiss Government will be the gainers by my discoveries, they will not raise any objections to my taking a goodly assortment away."

They relapsed into silence again, and it was growing so dusk when they began to climb up out of the glacier valley, that the reflection of a fire could be seen upon the side of the rocky niche in which they had formed their camp; and later on, as they came in sight of the little fall at the end of the rift in the mountain, the foaming waters were lit up so brilliantly that they looked like gold.

But the beauties of the place were forgotten by Saxe in the sight of a kettle on the fire, and something which looked wonderfully like cut-up chicken waiting to be frizzled over the glowing embers, beside which Melchior's sturdy figure stood up plainly, with his dark shadow cast upon the side of the white tent.

"Tea nearly ready?" cried Saxe, as they approached.

"Very nearly, herr," was the reply. Then to Dale, as a piece of sharpened pine was held out: "This is the wood used to pin down your letter, herr."

"That?"

"Yes, herr; and it was stuck in that crevice between those pieces of rock."

Dale took the piece with a curiously intent look in his countenance. Then, half aloud: "I could have taken an oath that I laid the paper on that—"

He looked hastily round, for nothing was visible.

"I was going to say on that stone, Saxe," he said, in a low voice.

"I know," replied the boy; "but the stone isn't there, nor the one you laid upon it."

"There!" cried Dale; "I was sure of it, and you are too. It is very strange."

"Yes," said Saxe: "somebody's having a game with us, unless Melchior's right, and there are—"

"Boys who ought to be kicked for being so ridiculously superstitious. There, let's have a wash in the spring, and then get to our meal. Back directly, Melchior," he said aloud, quite in his usual voice, as he passed close by the guide, who was now busy cooking.