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.
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.Melchior bowed slowly, and went on with his work, patiently preparing the tea-dinner, and drawing back after the return of the others as if to leave them to partake of their meal alone.It was a picturesque sight, and wonderfully attractive to a hungry boy,—the steaming kettle, the glowing fire lighting up the whole niche; and, to make the sight more enjoyable, there was the savoury smell, one which seemed to have had a peculiar effect upon Gros, the mule, for he had left the patch where he was picking up a good succulent meal, to draw near and stand blinking his eyes, flapping his long ears, and staring, till Saxe drove him off as he came to take his place.“I say,” he whispered, “poor old Melk is so upset by what you said that he is not going to have tea with us.”“Yes, he is,” said Dale quietly; and then aloud: “Melchior, I am afraid I said hastily some words which have wounded your feelings: I beg you will let me apologise?”“I accept your apology, herr,” said the guide quietly.“Then we will say no more about it; so come and sit down and join us.”“The herr wishes it?”“Yes, of course.”Melchior sat down quietly and gravely, and the meal went on without further reference to the unpleasant incident; but Dale grew eager about their work on the next day, chatting about the size of the crystals he had felt, and the difficulties of enlarging the hole so that they could creep in.“That can soon be done, herr, if we have fine weather, but there is lightning over the Blitzenhorn, and that may mean a storm.”“Let’s hope not, for though this place is lovely now, it would be very dreary and cold if it were wet. Now then, let’s clear away and get to sleep, for we have a long day’s work before us to-morrow.”The clearance was made, and the fire raked together and made up so that it might possibly last till morning, and then came the preparation for sleep.“We shall divide the night into three watches to-night, Melchior,” said Dale suddenly.“The herr will keep watch?”“Yes; for whoever it is that is watching and trifling with us—”“Then the herr thinks—”“That we have an enemy hanging about our camp and following us.”“Ah!”“And that it was he who threw off the rope.”“Then the herr thinks that?”“Yes, I feel sure now, for I have been thinking it over, and I know that Melchior Staffeln, the tried old guide, could not possibly have fastened that rope so that an accident would result.”“The herr gives me hope and life again,” said the guide warmly.“Yes, Melchior, I was all wrong. There—shake hands, man, like we English do.”“Yes: it is good,” said the guide, eagerly doing as he was told.“Now lie down both of you, and sleep. In three hours I shall call you, Melchior, and in three more you will come up, Saxe. We may see nothing, but henceforth we will be on guard.”Ten minutes later the fire was subsiding into a glow. Saxe and the guide slept, and Dale was keenly awake watching for the kobold who disturbed their peace.
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.
Melchior bowed slowly, and went on with his work, patiently preparing the tea-dinner, and drawing back after the return of the others as if to leave them to partake of their meal alone.
It was a picturesque sight, and wonderfully attractive to a hungry boy,—the steaming kettle, the glowing fire lighting up the whole niche; and, to make the sight more enjoyable, there was the savoury smell, one which seemed to have had a peculiar effect upon Gros, the mule, for he had left the patch where he was picking up a good succulent meal, to draw near and stand blinking his eyes, flapping his long ears, and staring, till Saxe drove him off as he came to take his place.
“I say,” he whispered, “poor old Melk is so upset by what you said that he is not going to have tea with us.”
“Yes, he is,” said Dale quietly; and then aloud: “Melchior, I am afraid I said hastily some words which have wounded your feelings: I beg you will let me apologise?”
“I accept your apology, herr,” said the guide quietly.
“Then we will say no more about it; so come and sit down and join us.”
“The herr wishes it?”
“Yes, of course.”
Melchior sat down quietly and gravely, and the meal went on without further reference to the unpleasant incident; but Dale grew eager about their work on the next day, chatting about the size of the crystals he had felt, and the difficulties of enlarging the hole so that they could creep in.
“That can soon be done, herr, if we have fine weather, but there is lightning over the Blitzenhorn, and that may mean a storm.”
“Let’s hope not, for though this place is lovely now, it would be very dreary and cold if it were wet. Now then, let’s clear away and get to sleep, for we have a long day’s work before us to-morrow.”
The clearance was made, and the fire raked together and made up so that it might possibly last till morning, and then came the preparation for sleep.
“We shall divide the night into three watches to-night, Melchior,” said Dale suddenly.
“The herr will keep watch?”
“Yes; for whoever it is that is watching and trifling with us—”
“Then the herr thinks—”
“That we have an enemy hanging about our camp and following us.”
“Ah!”
“And that it was he who threw off the rope.”
“Then the herr thinks that?”
“Yes, I feel sure now, for I have been thinking it over, and I know that Melchior Staffeln, the tried old guide, could not possibly have fastened that rope so that an accident would result.”
“The herr gives me hope and life again,” said the guide warmly.
“Yes, Melchior, I was all wrong. There—shake hands, man, like we English do.”
“Yes: it is good,” said the guide, eagerly doing as he was told.
“Now lie down both of you, and sleep. In three hours I shall call you, Melchior, and in three more you will come up, Saxe. We may see nothing, but henceforth we will be on guard.”
Ten minutes later the fire was subsiding into a glow. Saxe and the guide slept, and Dale was keenly awake watching for the kobold who disturbed their peace.
Chapter Thirty Two.The Treasure.No kobold, gnome, or any other goblin of the mine disturbed the watchers through that night. Dale roused Melchior at the end of his spell, and somewhere about daybreak the guide roused Saxe, in obedience to his orders, and asked him whether he felt fit to take his turn.“Eh?—Fit?” said Saxe, sitting up: “of course. Why shouldn’t I be?”“I thought you seemed a little upset by the shock yesterday.”“Nonsense: I’m only sleepy. I’m getting used to that sort of thing. There; lie down, and finish your rest. I’m as fresh as a daisy! I say, though: have you seen anything in the night?”“The stars slowly going down behind the mountains, and the peaks beginning to glow.”“Didn’t Mr Dale see anything?”“No.”“Well, I’m disappointed. I hoped one of you would catch the gentleman who comes after us. I’m sure there is something.”“So am I, herr. The fire is burning. Keep it up, and call me when it is breakfast time.”He lay down directly, and Saxe ran to the spring for a good sluice, to come back glowing and scrubbing his scarlet face with a towel.“I say, Melk!”There was no answer.“Melky!”Still silent.Saxe bent over the Swiss, and then turned away.“Well, he can sleep,” he muttered: “seems only to have to shut his eyes, and he is off.”It did not occur to him that he was as great an adept at sleeping as the guide, and he turned away, half ill-humouredly, to finish his rough toilet, and then he busied himself in making preparations for breakfast, which entailed a severe fight with self, for a sensation of hunger soon developed itself. But he won by a vigorous effort, and, after all was ready, forced himself away from the fire and the kettle, walking right out of the niche, to stand watching the glorious changes on the mountain peaks, and the lines of light slowly creeping, downward and driving out the shadows where it was still night while high up amongst the glittering ice fields it was glorious day.“Oh, how different it all looks in the sunshine!” thought Saxe. “Which did he say was the Blitzenhorn? I forget.”Then he began to think about the day’s work before them—the tramp up beside the glacier, the climb along the black ravine, right in among the mountains, and the exploration of the caves.“Well, we shall have found some crystals to take back,” he thought. “Wish it was breakfast time, though. What am I to do to amuse myself till Mr Dale wakes?”At that moment a peculiar whinnying noise fell upon his ears, and he started off down the mountain side in the direction from which the sound had come.“Better company than none,” he said, laughing. “Here: where are you, old chap?”There was of course no answer, and he was some little time before he could make out the mule, whose colour assimilated wonderfully with the browny-grey rocks. But at last he saw it, end on, standing gazing up a narrow valley, and climbed down to find that it was in the midst of a fair spread of short whortleberry growth, whose shoots had evidently been his fare.As Saxe drew nearer he could see that, in spite of the animal’s warmth, the longer hairs about the mule were covered with hoar-frost, and at every breath a couple of jets of white vapour were sent forth from the mule’s nostrils.The mule took no heed of his approach, but gave vent to another long, loud, complaining whinny, and kept its head stretched out and its ears pointed in the direction of the top of the valley high above them.“Hullo, Gros!” cried Saxe, as he approached; and the mule turned a little more away as the boy approached.“Do you hear?” cried Saxe, stepping aside so as to get up to the mule’s head; but that head was averted a little in the other direction, and the animal’s hind quarters were presented.“Now, stupid—I mean Dumkoff—I was going to pat your head. I can’t shake hands with your tail!”He darted sharply a few paces to the other side, but the mule carefully turned, to balance the movement, and still presented his tail.“Ah, you obstinate old ruffian!” cried Saxe: “how can you expect people to be friendly with you! Well, I’m not going to be beaten by an old mule, anyhow!”It was a rash declaration, for as Saxe made a rush right by the animal it spun round, and the positions were once more the same.This evolution was repeated again and again, till Saxe stopped short, panting.“Here!” he exclaimed. “I thought it was cold this morning, and I’m getting hot. For two pins I’d throw a chump of rock at you, you obstinate old four-legged hit of ill-temper.”He stooped and picked up a stone as big as his fists, and suddenly became aware of the fact that, though the mule’s head was turned away from him, the cunning animal turned its eyes back and was watching him carefully. For as he raised the stone Gros shook his head so that his long ears rattled, squealed, and a peculiar quivering motion, like the beginning of a dance, was visible in his hind quarters.“Ah! would you kick!” cried Saxe. “You ruffian, you’d better not. There are plenty of stones, and I’ll give you one for every hoist of those nice little heels.”He made an “offer,” as boys call it, with the stone, and there was a loud squeal. Gros’s head went down between his fore legs till he had nearly touched the ground, and he was turning himself into a tripod so as to set his hind legs at liberty.Certainly they seemed at liberty, for he threw them out so vigorously that, as Saxe gazed at the hoofs playing about in the air, they seemed to be sparring and fencing at him, while the tail between whipped and whisked about, and ended by tucking itself in tightly, till Saxe sat down on a rock roaring with laughter, when the mule suddenly ceased its efforts, stood still, and turned its head round to watch him.“Now it’s coming!” cried Saxe, leaping up and raising the stone again.The mule squealed defiance, and out flew its heels once more, and this was repeated till, half choked with laughing, Saxe threw down the stone.“There!” he said: “I wouldn’t throw at you. Poor old chap, then!”He approached the animal now on the side to which its head was thrust to watch him, and, to his great surprise, Gros did not stir, but moved his head a little, and let him approach, pat his neck, and pull his ears.“Only your fun, was it, old chap—eh! There! It was only my fun too. It’s all right. Go on, old fellow. But, I say, how long have we been carrying on this game? Suppose my fire’s out!”He gave the mule a final pat, and then hurried back to the tent, where the fire was burning steadily, but wanted replenishing. This done, he looked at the sleepers, who were both like the Irishman in the old story, paying attention to it; then Saxe told himself that he would continue his watch.This idea seemed so droll that he could not refrain from smiling.“Rather a queer way of keeping watch,” he said, “going off like that. Never mind: there’s nothing much to steal, and no one to steal it. But I suppose I ought to stop; only the worst of it is, if I stop here I begin feeling hungry.”The temptation came over him to examine the stores which Melchior had brought on the previous day, but he resisted it; and by dint of walking about using Dale’s glass to examine the different peaks and snowfields in the distance, the time passed till Dale woke with a start and sprang up.“Ah, Saxe, my lad, have I overslept myself?—No? Well, it’s time I was up. All right? That’s well. Now, this ought to be an important day for us,” he continued, as he rapidly prepared himself for the journey. “We must creep into that grotto somehow, and with plenty of light. I expect we shall find it quite a treasure-house. But,” he said at last, “I think you may wake up Melchior now.”“I am awake, herr,” said the guide, rising. “It is just the time I had settled to sleep.”In a few minutes they were ready for breakfast, and as they began Melchior drew from the pannier a portion of the provision he had brought, smiling as he placed it upon the slab of rock which served them as a table.“What are you laughing at?” said Saxe.“Oh, only about being a boy like you once, herr, and thinking that when I was your age I too could eat one breakfast and feel ready for another in an hour.”“I felt ready for one an hour ago, but I didn’t have one,” said Saxe. “No, it was two hours ago.”“But the herr did have a breakfast one or two hours ago.”“I?” said Saxe sharply. “No, I didn’t have anything.”The guide looked at him wonderingly, then at the provisions he was setting down, and ended by shrugging his shoulders.“I beg the young herr’s pardon. I thought he did,” said Melchior quietly; and for the time the incident was forgotten.Half an hour later Gros was brought up, provisions packed, the geological hammer and a cold chisel put inside with the food, and they started after leaving wood and water ready for a fire when they returned.The ravine was duly reached, Gros having proved himself an admirable climber on the ice, and he made no objection to ascending the black ravine for some distance; but at last it grew too bad for him, and he was tethered to a block of stone and left to meditate and lick the moisture which trickled down, for there was no pasture—not so much as a patch of moss.Then the climb went on, Dale asking the guide if he thought the mule could get back with a load of crystals in the pannier.“That depends on the weight, herr. If it is too much for him, we must help, or we must all go twice.”In due time they reached the rock beyond which was the way down to the lower grotto; but though it would have been tempting to have explored this with lights, it was decided to leave it for the present, and to go on and break into the cave discovered by Saxe.“Well,” said Dale, as they stood beneath it and gazed upon the black crevice, “do you think you can get at it so as to use a hammer and the chisel?”“Oh yes, herr,” said Melchior quietly; and thrusting the hammer handle and the chisel through his belt, he went up and along the ledge with wonderful agility, sprang across on to the projecting block, and then Saxe watched him eagerly as he saw him drive in the point of the geological hammer as high up as he could reach, and use it to hold by while he climbed higher and got his feet on the lower edge of the opening, where he stood with his hand inside to steady himself while he wriggled out the hammer. Then, holding this in his breast, they saw him take a steel spike from his pocket, and after a little examination thrust the point in a crevice which looked like an upward continuation of the opening into the grotto. This done, a sharp stroke or two from the hammer enabled him to fix the spike sufficiently firmly to enable him to hold on by it with his left hand while he drove it in firmly with the hammer before passing the double rope over it, and making a sling in which he could sit opposite the opening and work.“There, Saxe, neither you nor I could have done that,” said Dale, as the guide settled himself in the loop swinging before the mouth of the grotto.“It makes my hands feel wet,” whispered Saxe. “Look!”For Melchior was already hard at work with hammer and chisel, cutting off great angles that obstructed the way in and sending the fragments showering down.They watched him intently, seeing that he used the hammer as he used his ice-axe, so as not to deliver an unnecessary blow.“Think you will make a way in?” cried Dale, as the guide paused for a few moments to wipe his brow.“Oh yes, herr; I should have done by now, only my blows fall weakly sitting swinging here.”“Is the spike safe? Take care.”“I shall not fall, herr,” he replied. “If the spike gave way I should have time to save myself.”He began hammering again, this time without the chisel, and using the hammer with so much effect that they could hear the pieces of rock he chipped off rattling down inside, till at the end of about half an hour he ceased striking, and began raking out the bits he had broken off.“I can get through here now, herr,” he said. “I’ll come down, and you shall go first.”“No: that is your right, Saxe, as the discoverer; only be careful not to penetrate far. There may be danger.”As they were speaking Melchior stood once more upon the edge of the entrance, sending a shovelful or two of the broken stone clattering down as he untied the knots in the loop, and, taking one end of the rope, threw it over the spike, made a slip-knot, drew it tight, and then glided down to where Dale and Saxe were standing.“There, herr,” he said; “you can hold the rope, creep along the ledge, swing yourself across, and mount easily now.”“Shall I go first?” said the boy, looking at Dale.“Yes, of course; but we shall be close behind you.”Saxe seized the rope, and, profiting by old experience, went up, swung himself over on to the projection, and then easily climbed in at the opening; saw that there was ample room for him to pass, and then he crept forward cautiously on hands and knees, finding that the floor sloped downward rapidly toward where all was black darkness.He stopped short, not caring to go farther, and waited till the agitation of the rope, which he had let go, told him that Dale was nearly up. The next minute the figure of the latter darkened the opening, and he too crept in.“Well, Saxe: what has Aladdin’s cave to show us?”“Darkness,” replied the boy.“Ah, well; we shall soon dissipitate that,” said Dale, as he loosed his hold of the rope and began to prepare the lanthorn he had brought up. “Seen any gnomes?”“Can’t see anything,” replied Saxe shortly; for it seemed to him that Dale was smiling at him.“No kobolds or goblins? Well, let’s strike a match and light up: then perhaps we may. That’s one good thing about these hollows,—there is no explosive gas, like there is in a coal mine. There, take this and hold it out before you,” he continued, as he closed and passed the lanthorn. “Lift it up! Now what can you see?”“Something glittering—yes, crystals!—beauties!—what a size!”“Hah! Yes. These are worth all the trouble we have taken!” cried Dale, as he dimly saw pendant from the roof, projecting from the rock at all angles, and even lying upon the floor of the grotto, dozens upon dozens of magnificent crystals, which seemed to be clear as glass, of a dull brown, like smoky quartz, and some even of a hue that was almost a purply-black.At that moment Melchior’s head appeared.“Is there room for me to come in, herr?” he said; and before an answer could be given, “Ah! those are large.”“Large, my good fellow! they are the finest I have ever seen. Come in. Well, Saxe, how far does the grotto go in? Can you stand up? Mind your head!”“Just stand up here,” he replied; “but it is higher farther in.”“Let me go on first, herr,” said Melchior: “it may be dangerous. There is no telling where these cracks in the rocks extend.”He took the lanthorn and crept forward cautiously, while Dale and Saxe watched the play of the light on the wonderful prisms and hexagons which hung in all directions. But there was no penetrating above thirty feet; for the grotto, after rising six or seven feet in height, dropped down again, and closed together till there was a mere slit.“There may be more of it beyond here, sir,” said the guide, “if we could break through.”“There is more than enough here, Melchior,” cried Dale. “I am satisfied if we can get these away.”“Yes, herr,” said the guide, holding up the lanthorn, and making its light play in all directions, its rays flashing off the various facets in a way that displayed in some the beauty of their forms, and in others the limpid transparency of the stone,—“yes, herr: there are many mules’ burdens here. What will you do first?”“Try to get off that one,” cried Saxe, pointing. “It is the best here.”“They all seem best, Saxe,” said Dale. “Yes, we will have that one, if it can be broken off without injury.”“There is a fine one here, herr,” said the guide. “It must have fallen from the roof.”As he spoke he turned over a huge piece, after setting down the lanthorn, the light from which shot beneath it, and showed a rich purply-black stain, as the guide set the great hexagon up on end.“Why, that is the finest I have seen,” said Dale, growing quite excited over his discovery. “This and two or three more will be a load for the mule.”“Yes, herr, as many as we can get over the rocks with; but we can make many journeys backwards and forwards now we have found the place. But the herr will not take all away without sending word to Lucerne or Geneva?”“You may trust me,” said Dale. “I shall behave quite honourably to the Government, who will, I have no doubt, consent to my keeping some of them. Now, then: we shall have a long, slow journey back, with such a load. Try and strike off that small white piece.”The “small white piece” proved to be ten inches long and very heavy, when it had been dexterously struck off, without damaging any of its clearly-cut angles.Two more very beautifully clear pieces were then selected, and then Dale looked questioningly at Melchior.“If the mule carries the two largest pieces, herr,” he said, smiling, “and we take one each, I think it will be all we can do. When we get lower down, on to the better way, the mule can carry all.”“Yes, we must not be too grasping,” said Dale, with a sigh. “I wish, Saxe, I had all these over in England safe.”“I should like to have the whole grotto over there safe,” replied Saxe.“Better say the mountain while you are about it,” cried Dale, with a laugh. “There, Melchior, try if you can get down that heavy piece.”“Yes, herr, easily done,” said the guide; and, drawing up the rope, he made it fast to the largest crystal and carefully lowered it down.“You must go down now and unfasten,” said Dale. “I can lower the rest. But what about the rope when we have done?”For answer Melchior climbed up and loosened the rope, leaving only a loop over the spike. Then sliding down, he soon set the crystal free, and the others were lowered down. Dale and Saxe followed, and the rope was jerked off the spike and coiled up.“The only way of locking up the door,” said Saxe, laughing. “But, I say, these will be very heavy to carry back. What’s the matter?” he continued, as he saw Dale looking at the fragments of broken rock sent down by Melchior.“I was thinking that those pieces will tell tales,” he said. “If any one comes up here, they will see we have been at work.”“Yes, herr, if any one comes by; but nobody is likely to come here.”“I suppose not,” said Dale thoughtfully, after a look round.“The herr forgets that we are now in the wildest part of this the most desolate of our cantons.”“Yes, I had forgotten,” said Dale lightly. “No one is likely to come, unless it be one of your kobolds, Melchior.”“They will not come, herr, or they would have been here to protect their treasures,” replied the guide, laughing, as he stooped and lifted the big crystal on to his shoulder; then took it off, and asked Saxe to place the coil of rope under it. “The stone is heavy,” he said cheerfully. “Yes, that’s it: now it will ride easily. I think, herr, if you take my ice-axe and give me another under this arm to balance it, I can get on well.”“But you are too heavily laden now, Melchior.”“Oh no, herr: I am a strong man. Give me the other.”It was handed to him.“Now, can you carry the other three?”“Oh yes—easily,” cried Saxe, who took one of the largest. “’Tis heavy, though,” he added to himself, as he felt the weight of the solid stone.“Then these two are my load,” said Dale, placing one under each arm as soon as he had thrust the ice-axe handles through his belt. “Ready?”“Yes.”“Then off!”They started, and but for the knowledge of the value of the load Saxe would gladly have freed himself of the burden by letting it fall on the stones. But these were the crystals of which Dale was in search, and as he saw that his companion was patiently plodding on and making his way over the sharp, rough masses of stone with which the ravine was floored, he bent to his task patiently, though it seemed as though they would never reach the spot where the mule was tethered.There he was though, at last, ready to whinny in welcome of their coming; but this glad greeting closed when Melchior’s load was carefully balanced across his back, and the journey downward was very slowly and solemnly performed.With the heaviest crystals safe on the mule’s back, a redistribution took place, Melchior relieving Dale of his heaviest piece, and Dale exchanging his lighter one for Saxe’s; and in this order the side of the glacier was descended, and they reached the camp hot, tired and hungry.“Why, Saxe, we shall not want many loads like this,” said Dale.“No, herr,” said Melchior, as the boy stood shaking his head. “You cannot take many away, unless we have a train of mules. Where will you have these placed?”“Oh, just inside the tent for to-night. In the morning we must contrive some hiding-place for them, to which we can bring the rest; and when I have all I want we must bring mules here and remove them.”A good long look was taken at the various magnificent specimens before they were laid together. Then Melchior busied himself helping to prepare the meal; and very shortly after this was ended, watching being deemed unnecessary, the whole party were sleeping soundly, not one of them, after the heavy toil of the day, being startled by the loud squealing whinny given by the mule toward the middle of the night.Saxe’s sleep was almost dreamless till toward morning, when he became a little restless consequent upon imagining that he was engaged in a desperate encounter with a small round goblin, who was about the size of a baby, but seemed to have the strength of an elephant. He walked in at the tent door, and informed Saxe that he had come to fetch the crystals stolen from his storehouse that day; and upon Saxe refusing to give them up, a desperate encounter took place—a fight which had no beginning and no end, finishing off, as it were, in a mist, out of which he started to hear the sound of wood crackling, and to find that it was day.
No kobold, gnome, or any other goblin of the mine disturbed the watchers through that night. Dale roused Melchior at the end of his spell, and somewhere about daybreak the guide roused Saxe, in obedience to his orders, and asked him whether he felt fit to take his turn.
“Eh?—Fit?” said Saxe, sitting up: “of course. Why shouldn’t I be?”
“I thought you seemed a little upset by the shock yesterday.”
“Nonsense: I’m only sleepy. I’m getting used to that sort of thing. There; lie down, and finish your rest. I’m as fresh as a daisy! I say, though: have you seen anything in the night?”
“The stars slowly going down behind the mountains, and the peaks beginning to glow.”
“Didn’t Mr Dale see anything?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m disappointed. I hoped one of you would catch the gentleman who comes after us. I’m sure there is something.”
“So am I, herr. The fire is burning. Keep it up, and call me when it is breakfast time.”
He lay down directly, and Saxe ran to the spring for a good sluice, to come back glowing and scrubbing his scarlet face with a towel.
“I say, Melk!”
There was no answer.
“Melky!”
Still silent.
Saxe bent over the Swiss, and then turned away.
“Well, he can sleep,” he muttered: “seems only to have to shut his eyes, and he is off.”
It did not occur to him that he was as great an adept at sleeping as the guide, and he turned away, half ill-humouredly, to finish his rough toilet, and then he busied himself in making preparations for breakfast, which entailed a severe fight with self, for a sensation of hunger soon developed itself. But he won by a vigorous effort, and, after all was ready, forced himself away from the fire and the kettle, walking right out of the niche, to stand watching the glorious changes on the mountain peaks, and the lines of light slowly creeping, downward and driving out the shadows where it was still night while high up amongst the glittering ice fields it was glorious day.
“Oh, how different it all looks in the sunshine!” thought Saxe. “Which did he say was the Blitzenhorn? I forget.”
Then he began to think about the day’s work before them—the tramp up beside the glacier, the climb along the black ravine, right in among the mountains, and the exploration of the caves.
“Well, we shall have found some crystals to take back,” he thought. “Wish it was breakfast time, though. What am I to do to amuse myself till Mr Dale wakes?”
At that moment a peculiar whinnying noise fell upon his ears, and he started off down the mountain side in the direction from which the sound had come.
“Better company than none,” he said, laughing. “Here: where are you, old chap?”
There was of course no answer, and he was some little time before he could make out the mule, whose colour assimilated wonderfully with the browny-grey rocks. But at last he saw it, end on, standing gazing up a narrow valley, and climbed down to find that it was in the midst of a fair spread of short whortleberry growth, whose shoots had evidently been his fare.
As Saxe drew nearer he could see that, in spite of the animal’s warmth, the longer hairs about the mule were covered with hoar-frost, and at every breath a couple of jets of white vapour were sent forth from the mule’s nostrils.
The mule took no heed of his approach, but gave vent to another long, loud, complaining whinny, and kept its head stretched out and its ears pointed in the direction of the top of the valley high above them.
“Hullo, Gros!” cried Saxe, as he approached; and the mule turned a little more away as the boy approached.
“Do you hear?” cried Saxe, stepping aside so as to get up to the mule’s head; but that head was averted a little in the other direction, and the animal’s hind quarters were presented.
“Now, stupid—I mean Dumkoff—I was going to pat your head. I can’t shake hands with your tail!”
He darted sharply a few paces to the other side, but the mule carefully turned, to balance the movement, and still presented his tail.
“Ah, you obstinate old ruffian!” cried Saxe: “how can you expect people to be friendly with you! Well, I’m not going to be beaten by an old mule, anyhow!”
It was a rash declaration, for as Saxe made a rush right by the animal it spun round, and the positions were once more the same.
This evolution was repeated again and again, till Saxe stopped short, panting.
“Here!” he exclaimed. “I thought it was cold this morning, and I’m getting hot. For two pins I’d throw a chump of rock at you, you obstinate old four-legged hit of ill-temper.”
He stooped and picked up a stone as big as his fists, and suddenly became aware of the fact that, though the mule’s head was turned away from him, the cunning animal turned its eyes back and was watching him carefully. For as he raised the stone Gros shook his head so that his long ears rattled, squealed, and a peculiar quivering motion, like the beginning of a dance, was visible in his hind quarters.
“Ah! would you kick!” cried Saxe. “You ruffian, you’d better not. There are plenty of stones, and I’ll give you one for every hoist of those nice little heels.”
He made an “offer,” as boys call it, with the stone, and there was a loud squeal. Gros’s head went down between his fore legs till he had nearly touched the ground, and he was turning himself into a tripod so as to set his hind legs at liberty.
Certainly they seemed at liberty, for he threw them out so vigorously that, as Saxe gazed at the hoofs playing about in the air, they seemed to be sparring and fencing at him, while the tail between whipped and whisked about, and ended by tucking itself in tightly, till Saxe sat down on a rock roaring with laughter, when the mule suddenly ceased its efforts, stood still, and turned its head round to watch him.
“Now it’s coming!” cried Saxe, leaping up and raising the stone again.
The mule squealed defiance, and out flew its heels once more, and this was repeated till, half choked with laughing, Saxe threw down the stone.
“There!” he said: “I wouldn’t throw at you. Poor old chap, then!”
He approached the animal now on the side to which its head was thrust to watch him, and, to his great surprise, Gros did not stir, but moved his head a little, and let him approach, pat his neck, and pull his ears.
“Only your fun, was it, old chap—eh! There! It was only my fun too. It’s all right. Go on, old fellow. But, I say, how long have we been carrying on this game? Suppose my fire’s out!”
He gave the mule a final pat, and then hurried back to the tent, where the fire was burning steadily, but wanted replenishing. This done, he looked at the sleepers, who were both like the Irishman in the old story, paying attention to it; then Saxe told himself that he would continue his watch.
This idea seemed so droll that he could not refrain from smiling.
“Rather a queer way of keeping watch,” he said, “going off like that. Never mind: there’s nothing much to steal, and no one to steal it. But I suppose I ought to stop; only the worst of it is, if I stop here I begin feeling hungry.”
The temptation came over him to examine the stores which Melchior had brought on the previous day, but he resisted it; and by dint of walking about using Dale’s glass to examine the different peaks and snowfields in the distance, the time passed till Dale woke with a start and sprang up.
“Ah, Saxe, my lad, have I overslept myself?—No? Well, it’s time I was up. All right? That’s well. Now, this ought to be an important day for us,” he continued, as he rapidly prepared himself for the journey. “We must creep into that grotto somehow, and with plenty of light. I expect we shall find it quite a treasure-house. But,” he said at last, “I think you may wake up Melchior now.”
“I am awake, herr,” said the guide, rising. “It is just the time I had settled to sleep.”
In a few minutes they were ready for breakfast, and as they began Melchior drew from the pannier a portion of the provision he had brought, smiling as he placed it upon the slab of rock which served them as a table.
“What are you laughing at?” said Saxe.
“Oh, only about being a boy like you once, herr, and thinking that when I was your age I too could eat one breakfast and feel ready for another in an hour.”
“I felt ready for one an hour ago, but I didn’t have one,” said Saxe. “No, it was two hours ago.”
“But the herr did have a breakfast one or two hours ago.”
“I?” said Saxe sharply. “No, I didn’t have anything.”
The guide looked at him wonderingly, then at the provisions he was setting down, and ended by shrugging his shoulders.
“I beg the young herr’s pardon. I thought he did,” said Melchior quietly; and for the time the incident was forgotten.
Half an hour later Gros was brought up, provisions packed, the geological hammer and a cold chisel put inside with the food, and they started after leaving wood and water ready for a fire when they returned.
The ravine was duly reached, Gros having proved himself an admirable climber on the ice, and he made no objection to ascending the black ravine for some distance; but at last it grew too bad for him, and he was tethered to a block of stone and left to meditate and lick the moisture which trickled down, for there was no pasture—not so much as a patch of moss.
Then the climb went on, Dale asking the guide if he thought the mule could get back with a load of crystals in the pannier.
“That depends on the weight, herr. If it is too much for him, we must help, or we must all go twice.”
In due time they reached the rock beyond which was the way down to the lower grotto; but though it would have been tempting to have explored this with lights, it was decided to leave it for the present, and to go on and break into the cave discovered by Saxe.
“Well,” said Dale, as they stood beneath it and gazed upon the black crevice, “do you think you can get at it so as to use a hammer and the chisel?”
“Oh yes, herr,” said Melchior quietly; and thrusting the hammer handle and the chisel through his belt, he went up and along the ledge with wonderful agility, sprang across on to the projecting block, and then Saxe watched him eagerly as he saw him drive in the point of the geological hammer as high up as he could reach, and use it to hold by while he climbed higher and got his feet on the lower edge of the opening, where he stood with his hand inside to steady himself while he wriggled out the hammer. Then, holding this in his breast, they saw him take a steel spike from his pocket, and after a little examination thrust the point in a crevice which looked like an upward continuation of the opening into the grotto. This done, a sharp stroke or two from the hammer enabled him to fix the spike sufficiently firmly to enable him to hold on by it with his left hand while he drove it in firmly with the hammer before passing the double rope over it, and making a sling in which he could sit opposite the opening and work.
“There, Saxe, neither you nor I could have done that,” said Dale, as the guide settled himself in the loop swinging before the mouth of the grotto.
“It makes my hands feel wet,” whispered Saxe. “Look!”
For Melchior was already hard at work with hammer and chisel, cutting off great angles that obstructed the way in and sending the fragments showering down.
They watched him intently, seeing that he used the hammer as he used his ice-axe, so as not to deliver an unnecessary blow.
“Think you will make a way in?” cried Dale, as the guide paused for a few moments to wipe his brow.
“Oh yes, herr; I should have done by now, only my blows fall weakly sitting swinging here.”
“Is the spike safe? Take care.”
“I shall not fall, herr,” he replied. “If the spike gave way I should have time to save myself.”
He began hammering again, this time without the chisel, and using the hammer with so much effect that they could hear the pieces of rock he chipped off rattling down inside, till at the end of about half an hour he ceased striking, and began raking out the bits he had broken off.
“I can get through here now, herr,” he said. “I’ll come down, and you shall go first.”
“No: that is your right, Saxe, as the discoverer; only be careful not to penetrate far. There may be danger.”
As they were speaking Melchior stood once more upon the edge of the entrance, sending a shovelful or two of the broken stone clattering down as he untied the knots in the loop, and, taking one end of the rope, threw it over the spike, made a slip-knot, drew it tight, and then glided down to where Dale and Saxe were standing.
“There, herr,” he said; “you can hold the rope, creep along the ledge, swing yourself across, and mount easily now.”
“Shall I go first?” said the boy, looking at Dale.
“Yes, of course; but we shall be close behind you.”
Saxe seized the rope, and, profiting by old experience, went up, swung himself over on to the projection, and then easily climbed in at the opening; saw that there was ample room for him to pass, and then he crept forward cautiously on hands and knees, finding that the floor sloped downward rapidly toward where all was black darkness.
He stopped short, not caring to go farther, and waited till the agitation of the rope, which he had let go, told him that Dale was nearly up. The next minute the figure of the latter darkened the opening, and he too crept in.
“Well, Saxe: what has Aladdin’s cave to show us?”
“Darkness,” replied the boy.
“Ah, well; we shall soon dissipitate that,” said Dale, as he loosed his hold of the rope and began to prepare the lanthorn he had brought up. “Seen any gnomes?”
“Can’t see anything,” replied Saxe shortly; for it seemed to him that Dale was smiling at him.
“No kobolds or goblins? Well, let’s strike a match and light up: then perhaps we may. That’s one good thing about these hollows,—there is no explosive gas, like there is in a coal mine. There, take this and hold it out before you,” he continued, as he closed and passed the lanthorn. “Lift it up! Now what can you see?”
“Something glittering—yes, crystals!—beauties!—what a size!”
“Hah! Yes. These are worth all the trouble we have taken!” cried Dale, as he dimly saw pendant from the roof, projecting from the rock at all angles, and even lying upon the floor of the grotto, dozens upon dozens of magnificent crystals, which seemed to be clear as glass, of a dull brown, like smoky quartz, and some even of a hue that was almost a purply-black.
At that moment Melchior’s head appeared.
“Is there room for me to come in, herr?” he said; and before an answer could be given, “Ah! those are large.”
“Large, my good fellow! they are the finest I have ever seen. Come in. Well, Saxe, how far does the grotto go in? Can you stand up? Mind your head!”
“Just stand up here,” he replied; “but it is higher farther in.”
“Let me go on first, herr,” said Melchior: “it may be dangerous. There is no telling where these cracks in the rocks extend.”
He took the lanthorn and crept forward cautiously, while Dale and Saxe watched the play of the light on the wonderful prisms and hexagons which hung in all directions. But there was no penetrating above thirty feet; for the grotto, after rising six or seven feet in height, dropped down again, and closed together till there was a mere slit.
“There may be more of it beyond here, sir,” said the guide, “if we could break through.”
“There is more than enough here, Melchior,” cried Dale. “I am satisfied if we can get these away.”
“Yes, herr,” said the guide, holding up the lanthorn, and making its light play in all directions, its rays flashing off the various facets in a way that displayed in some the beauty of their forms, and in others the limpid transparency of the stone,—“yes, herr: there are many mules’ burdens here. What will you do first?”
“Try to get off that one,” cried Saxe, pointing. “It is the best here.”
“They all seem best, Saxe,” said Dale. “Yes, we will have that one, if it can be broken off without injury.”
“There is a fine one here, herr,” said the guide. “It must have fallen from the roof.”
As he spoke he turned over a huge piece, after setting down the lanthorn, the light from which shot beneath it, and showed a rich purply-black stain, as the guide set the great hexagon up on end.
“Why, that is the finest I have seen,” said Dale, growing quite excited over his discovery. “This and two or three more will be a load for the mule.”
“Yes, herr, as many as we can get over the rocks with; but we can make many journeys backwards and forwards now we have found the place. But the herr will not take all away without sending word to Lucerne or Geneva?”
“You may trust me,” said Dale. “I shall behave quite honourably to the Government, who will, I have no doubt, consent to my keeping some of them. Now, then: we shall have a long, slow journey back, with such a load. Try and strike off that small white piece.”
The “small white piece” proved to be ten inches long and very heavy, when it had been dexterously struck off, without damaging any of its clearly-cut angles.
Two more very beautifully clear pieces were then selected, and then Dale looked questioningly at Melchior.
“If the mule carries the two largest pieces, herr,” he said, smiling, “and we take one each, I think it will be all we can do. When we get lower down, on to the better way, the mule can carry all.”
“Yes, we must not be too grasping,” said Dale, with a sigh. “I wish, Saxe, I had all these over in England safe.”
“I should like to have the whole grotto over there safe,” replied Saxe.
“Better say the mountain while you are about it,” cried Dale, with a laugh. “There, Melchior, try if you can get down that heavy piece.”
“Yes, herr, easily done,” said the guide; and, drawing up the rope, he made it fast to the largest crystal and carefully lowered it down.
“You must go down now and unfasten,” said Dale. “I can lower the rest. But what about the rope when we have done?”
For answer Melchior climbed up and loosened the rope, leaving only a loop over the spike. Then sliding down, he soon set the crystal free, and the others were lowered down. Dale and Saxe followed, and the rope was jerked off the spike and coiled up.
“The only way of locking up the door,” said Saxe, laughing. “But, I say, these will be very heavy to carry back. What’s the matter?” he continued, as he saw Dale looking at the fragments of broken rock sent down by Melchior.
“I was thinking that those pieces will tell tales,” he said. “If any one comes up here, they will see we have been at work.”
“Yes, herr, if any one comes by; but nobody is likely to come here.”
“I suppose not,” said Dale thoughtfully, after a look round.
“The herr forgets that we are now in the wildest part of this the most desolate of our cantons.”
“Yes, I had forgotten,” said Dale lightly. “No one is likely to come, unless it be one of your kobolds, Melchior.”
“They will not come, herr, or they would have been here to protect their treasures,” replied the guide, laughing, as he stooped and lifted the big crystal on to his shoulder; then took it off, and asked Saxe to place the coil of rope under it. “The stone is heavy,” he said cheerfully. “Yes, that’s it: now it will ride easily. I think, herr, if you take my ice-axe and give me another under this arm to balance it, I can get on well.”
“But you are too heavily laden now, Melchior.”
“Oh no, herr: I am a strong man. Give me the other.”
It was handed to him.
“Now, can you carry the other three?”
“Oh yes—easily,” cried Saxe, who took one of the largest. “’Tis heavy, though,” he added to himself, as he felt the weight of the solid stone.
“Then these two are my load,” said Dale, placing one under each arm as soon as he had thrust the ice-axe handles through his belt. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then off!”
They started, and but for the knowledge of the value of the load Saxe would gladly have freed himself of the burden by letting it fall on the stones. But these were the crystals of which Dale was in search, and as he saw that his companion was patiently plodding on and making his way over the sharp, rough masses of stone with which the ravine was floored, he bent to his task patiently, though it seemed as though they would never reach the spot where the mule was tethered.
There he was though, at last, ready to whinny in welcome of their coming; but this glad greeting closed when Melchior’s load was carefully balanced across his back, and the journey downward was very slowly and solemnly performed.
With the heaviest crystals safe on the mule’s back, a redistribution took place, Melchior relieving Dale of his heaviest piece, and Dale exchanging his lighter one for Saxe’s; and in this order the side of the glacier was descended, and they reached the camp hot, tired and hungry.
“Why, Saxe, we shall not want many loads like this,” said Dale.
“No, herr,” said Melchior, as the boy stood shaking his head. “You cannot take many away, unless we have a train of mules. Where will you have these placed?”
“Oh, just inside the tent for to-night. In the morning we must contrive some hiding-place for them, to which we can bring the rest; and when I have all I want we must bring mules here and remove them.”
A good long look was taken at the various magnificent specimens before they were laid together. Then Melchior busied himself helping to prepare the meal; and very shortly after this was ended, watching being deemed unnecessary, the whole party were sleeping soundly, not one of them, after the heavy toil of the day, being startled by the loud squealing whinny given by the mule toward the middle of the night.
Saxe’s sleep was almost dreamless till toward morning, when he became a little restless consequent upon imagining that he was engaged in a desperate encounter with a small round goblin, who was about the size of a baby, but seemed to have the strength of an elephant. He walked in at the tent door, and informed Saxe that he had come to fetch the crystals stolen from his storehouse that day; and upon Saxe refusing to give them up, a desperate encounter took place—a fight which had no beginning and no end, finishing off, as it were, in a mist, out of which he started to hear the sound of wood crackling, and to find that it was day.