Part 27 (1/2)

But, to the surprise of Saxe, the guide took no heed--he merely went on fastening the rope till he had done.

”You will not venture along that shelf while it is so thick, Melchior?”

said Dale.

”Oh yes, herr. We must not wait here.”

”But the danger!”

”There is scarcely any, herr,” replied the guide. ”The great danger is of going astray. We cannot go wrong here. We have only to go along the shelf to the end.”

”But it is like going along the edge of a precipice in the dark.”

”It is like darkness, and more confusing, herr; but we have the wall on our left to steady us, and where we are is terribly exposed. Trust me, sir.”

”Forward!” said Dale quietly. ”Keep the rope fairly tight.”

Melchior stepped at once on to the ledge, and the others followed, all three going cautiously and very slowly through the opaque mist, which looked so solid at Saxe's feet that more than once he was ready to make a false step, while he wondered in himself that he did not feel more alarm, but attributed the cause rightly to the fact that he could not see the danger yawning below. To make the pa.s.sage along this ledge the more perilous and strange, each was invisible to the other, and their voices in the awful solitude sounded m.u.f.fled and strange.

As Saxe stepped cautiously along, feeling his way by the wall and beating the edge of the precipice with the handle of his ice-axe, he felt over again the sensations he had had in pa.s.sing along there that morning. But the dread was not so keen--only lest there should be a sudden strain on the rope caused by one of them slipping; and he judged rightly that, had one of them gone over the precipice here, nothing could have saved the others, for there was no good hold that they could seize, to bear up against the sudden jerk.

”Over!” shouted Melchior at last. ”Steady, herr--steady! Don't hurry!

That's it: give me your hand.”

”I can't see you.”

”No? Come along, then, another yard or two: you are not quite off the ledge. That's it. Safe!”

”And thank goodness!” said Dale, with a sigh of relief, a few minutes later. ”That was worse than ever. Saxe, my lad, you are having a month's mountaineering crowded into one day.”

”Yes, herr,” said Melchior; ”he is having a very great lesson, and he'll feel a different person when he lies down to sleep.”

”He will if we have anywhere to sleep to-night. It seems to me as if we must sit under a block of stone and wait until this mist is gone.”

”Oh no, herr,” said the guide; ”we will keep to the rope, and you two will save me if I get into a bad place. I seem to know this mountain pretty well now; and, if you recollect, there was nothing very bad. I think we'll go on, if you please, and try and reach the camp.”

”You asked me to trust you,” said Dale. ”I will. Go on.”

”Forward, then; and if I do not hit the snow col I shall find the valley, and we can journey back.”

For the first time Saxe began to feel how utterly exhausted he had grown. Till now the excitement and heat of the journey had monopolised all his thoughts; but, as they stumbled on down slope after slope strewn with debris, or over patches of deep snow, his legs dragged heavily, and he struck himself awkwardly against blocks of granite that he might have avoided.

The work was comparatively simple, though. It was downward, and that must be right unless Melchior led them to the edge of some terrible precipice right or left of the track they had taken in the morning.

But matters began to go easier and easier, for at the end of another hour's tramp they suddenly emerged from the mist, coming out below it, and after a few more dozen steps seeing it like a roof high above their heads.

Here the guide stopped, mounted a stone, and stood looking about him in the evening light.

”I see,” he cried: ”we are not half an hour out of our way. Off to the right we shall reach the snow, and then our task is done.”