Part 19 (2/2)

They soon reached the foot of the snow, which rose up in one broad smooth sheet, pure and white beyond anything existing lower down, and as, now thoroughly tired, Saxe gazed up at the beautiful curve descending from the mountains on either side, it seemed to be a tremendous way up.

”The snow is pretty hard,” said Melchior. ”Use my steps.”

He clapped the mule on the haunch, and the st.u.r.dy beast set off at once up the laborious ascent, with its hoofs sinking in deeply, as instinctively it sloped off to the right instead of breasting the ascent at once.

”But what about the rope, Melchior?” said Dale sharply.

”There is no need for a rope here, herr. This snow lies on the solid rock, and every crevice and hollow is full, with the snow harder and more strong the deeper we go.”

”Of course: I had forgotten. This is not a glacier. Come, Saxe!

Tired?”

”Wait till I get to the top,” was the reply; and they climbed on, with the snow gradually changing colour as it was bathed in the evening suns.h.i.+ne, till they seemed to be tramping up and up over grains of gold, which went rus.h.i.+ng back as Gros plunged his way upward, turning from time to time, and retracing his steps at an angle, thus forming a zigzag as regular as if it had been marked out for him at starting.

”Seems to grow as one climbs,” grumbled Saxe at last, as he grew too tired to admire the glorious prospect of gilded peaks which kept on opening out at every turn.

”But it does not,” replied Dale. ”Come: do your best! It's splendid practice for your muscles and wind. You are out of breath now, but a week or two hence you will think nothing of a slope like this; and to-morrow I am thinking of ascending that peak, if you like to come.”

”Which?” cried Saxe.

”That to the right, where the rock is clear on one side and it is all snow on the other.”

”Yes, I see.”

”It is not one of the high peaks, but the rocks look attractive, and it will be practice before I try something big. But you'll be too much done up with to-day's work.”

Saxe frowned, and they went on in silence for a time, till, at one of the turns made by the mule, Dale paused.

”Like a rest?” he said.

”No,” replied Saxe; ”we may as well get to the top first.”

Dale smiled to himself.

”He has plenty of spirit,” he muttered; and he watched Saxe toiling on, with his feet sinking in the snow at every step, and how he never once glanced up at the top of the col for which they were making; but he gave a start and his face lit up as Melchior suddenly uttered his peculiar jodel.

”The top of the col,” he cried; and, as the others joined him where he stood, with his arm over the mule's neck, he said, ”Would the herrs like me to tell them the names of the different peaks?”

”Yes, after tea,” said Saxe, laughing. ”But, I say, I thought this was a sharp ridge, like the roof of a church, and that we should go down directly off the snow.”

”Patience, herr,” said Melchior. ”Come along, then. It is colder up here. See how low the sun is, and feel how hard the snow becomes.”

Saxe glanced at the great ruddy glow in the west, and saw how the different peaks had flashed up into brilliant light; he noted, too, that if he trod lightly, his feet hardly went through the crust on the snow.

”Why, it's beginning to freeze!” he cried suddenly.

”Yes, herr; on this side it is freezing hard. On the other side it will be soft yet. That is the south.”

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