Part 43 (1/2)

”You hear,” said Dale. ”It is only an echo. A man down there in peril would not repeat words. In nine cases out of ten he would cry 'help!'”

Saxe turned away from the creva.s.se with a groan that told how forcibly his companion's words had gone home; but he turned back again.

”It seems so cruel to come away even if he is dead,” he whispered.

”Shall I stop while you go!”

”No, Saxe. If we could hear him answer, I should at any cost say Stay, or I would myself stop, for I believe that a word or two from time to time would have encouraged him to struggle on for his life. But to stay there by that creva.s.se through the night, without proper protection, might mean your death. The cold up here must be terrible. Come.”

Saxe followed him slowly, with his head bent to hide the tears standing in his eyes, and then Dale took his arm.

”We have done our duty so far,” he said; ”and we are doing it now in going for help to try and rescue the poor fellow's remains from yon icy tomb. Believe me, my lad, I would not come away if there was anything more that we could do.”

Saxe was silent for a few minutes, as they tramped on over the ice, which was now beginning to take a warm tint in the afternoon's sunlight.

Then, making an effort, he spoke: ”You will of course get men and ropes?”

”Yes; and bring back a crowbar or tamping iron, and a heavy hammer to drive it into the ice.”

Saxe sighed, and, forgetting his weariness, stepped out quickly over the rugged way, as they kept as nearly as they could to the invisible track they had followed during the ascent.

The sun was now getting so low down that the great ragged pyramids and crags of ice cast fantastic shadows eastward. There was a deep orange glow in the sky, and at another time they would have stopped enchanted by the dazzling beauty of the effects before them; but now Saxe could see nothing but the pale face of their guide, as he lay far below with his staring eyes fixed upon the narrow rift beyond which was the evening sky; and at such times as the boy conjured up this ghastly picture in his brain, his eyes grew misty, and he stumbled and slipped upon the rugged ice which formed their way.

”We must press on,” said Dale; ”we have not come down above a mile, and it is a long way yet. We must not be amongst these seracs and creva.s.ses after dark.”

”I can walk faster,” said Saxe heavily, and he increased his pace.

But it was in many places a task requiring careful descent, and every time they came upon a creva.s.se Saxe felt a curious shrinking, which called for a strong effort of will to enable him to make the necessary spring to leap across, while several of the wider ones which had been leaped in coming up were now avoided by a detour to the left.

All these incidents made their descent slower; and as Dale thought of the long distance yet to go, he grew more and more anxious.

”Saxe,” he said at last, as they were now slowly pa.s.sing along the rocks by the side of the glacier, which they had now left to avoid some patches of rugged ice, ”I'm afraid we shall have to rest here in some niche as soon as darkness comes on. I can't trust to my memory to find the way farther when the light has gone.”

”What's that?” said Saxe, catching his arm.

Dale stopped and listened; but the place was utterly still for a few minutes, and then there was a sharp crack and a rattling noise.

”Piece of ice broken off and fallen.”

”No, no; I did not mean that,” cried Saxe, as his eyes wandered upward among the broken ice now beginning to look cold and grey. ”There!-- there!”

A faint chipping sound was heard as the lad spoke; but as they stood in quite a trough between the steep rock of the valley side and the jagged ma.s.ses of ice, it was impossible to say exactly from whence it came.

”Yes, I heard it,” said Dale, as the sound ceased. ”There must be some one on the ice: it sounded just like cutting steps. Listen again.”

They stood motionless, but all was perfectly still.

”Come along,” cried Dale; ”we cannot waste time. It must have been the ice giving way somewhere. Perhaps it was the splitting sound of a creva.s.se opening.”

”There it is again!” cried Saxe.

”Yes; it must be some one cutting steps: but it is evidently a long way off. We can't see from here, but some one must be on the mountain above us, and the sound comes through the clear air, and strikes against the valley wall over yonder. Yes: hark! It seems to come from there; but, depend upon it, the cause is high up overhead.”