Part 68 (1/2)
”One moment. What about the moon!”
”We shall have it with us at starting, herr.”
”And which way do you propose?”
The guide raised the ice-axe, which never seemed to leave his side, and pointed out the route he meant to take, with the difficulties likely to be encountered among the great snowfields which clothed the giant's sides.
An hour later the preparations had been made, and they were all sleeping, when, just as he had apparently closed his eyes, Melchior stood over Saxe and roused him up once more.
”One o'clock, herr; and the coffee is nearly ready.”
It had now become such a matter of course to rise at these nocturnal hours for long expeditions, that Saxe turned out at once, with nothing more than a growl or two and a vicious s.n.a.t.c.h at his clothes. The cold water and the coffee, however, soon set him right, and at two punctually the trio were on their way along the valley, with the last quarter of the moon to light them as they struck up close by the end of the lower glacier, and then went on and on at a steady rate toward the great giant whose pyramidal peak could be faintly discerned in the distance, looking to Saxe terribly far off, and as if it would be impossible to reach the top that day. But their guide had cunning ways for shortening the distance, leading them round this outer b.u.t.tress, up that ravine, and in and out and along shelves, so that, by the time the sun rose, they had well mastered the outworks, and were ready to attack the peak itself.
For the next two hours it was now steady climb over rock and snow. Then the difficulties began, but were surmounted one by one,--a great snowfield or two were skirted, an arete mounted, which led them to the foot of a slope of hard ice, where they halted for a rest.
”Must we take that, Melchior?”
”Yes, herr: there is no other way, and with the rope it is not so difficult.”
”But you will have to cut steps all the way!”
”Yes, herr.”
”And the precipice?”
”You will not mind that, herr; and I am sure he will not shrink from it now.”
Saxe declared that he was ready, and for the next hour they were crossing the ice, where a slip might have sent all flying down two or three thousand feet. But it was pa.s.sed at last, and the great black crags were now within easy reach.
”Do you mean to go right to the top, herr?” said the guide; ”because, if so, it would be better to do it now, before the snow grows softer, and descend to the black crags afterwards. Then, if we do not find crystals, I can take you round by the cornice, and over or round one of the snowfields home.”
”What do you say, Saxe? Shall we venture?”
”Yes, we must be able to say we have climbed the Blitzenhorn.”
”Go on, then, Melchior, and we'll do it. Is there anything very bad?”
”No, herr, I think not. A few creva.s.ses, perhaps, that one can get over, are the worst. Nothing more difficult than we have often done.”
They climbed on, but the difficulties increased, and there proved to be an awkward ice ledge to pa.s.s along, with a terrific gulf beneath; and a gap or two, with snow bridges, which were apparently waiting a touch to go down at once. These were all safely overcome. And at last a long slope of loose snow was all that remained to toil up before they reached the top, where Saxe threw himself down to enjoy the wondrous prospect of glittering ice peaks, and, a few minutes after, the food Melchior brought from his wallet.
”It doesn't seem so difficult as you thought,” said Saxe, with his mouth full.
”Don't holloa till you are out of the wood,” replied Dale. ”Shall we go back the same way?” he said to the guide.
”No, herr; I shall take you back right to the black rock, where it is too steep for the snow to lie.”
”And for us to get down?”