Part 69 (1/2)

But the boy did hesitate, and, after peering over, he shrank back appalled.

Melchior smiled.

”Well, herr,” he said, ”what do you think of the glissade, if you had taken one?”

”It's horrible,” said Saxe, in a subdued tone; and he turned and looked down again where the guide had broken away the cornice, which curved out over a tremendous precipice, and saw that had he followed his inclination and slid down the snow slope, he would have gone over the cornice, and then plunged headlong, to fall nearly sheer down what seemed to be three or four thousand feet, to where a glacier wound along past the foot of the precipice.

Just then Dale joined him.

”Ah!” he said; ”this is grand. Look at the course of that river till it disappears in the haze. You can count several villages, too, on the mountain slope and plain.”

But Saxe had no eye for river or villages. The object that took his attention was the river of ice below, upon which whoever dropped from where he stood must fall; and as Dale spoke to him again, he turned away with quite a start and a shudder.

”Hallo!” cried Dale; ”that will not do. Too imaginative, Saxe. There's plenty all round to encounter, without your calling up the imaginary.

Well, Melchior, which way next?”

”Up above that snow slope, herr, and round the shoulder of the mountain that you can see yonder.”

”Yes; but that's going up again.”

”Yes, herr; I do not like to be so near this place without letting you see the Silber Grat and the wonderful view. Very few people come to see this place, but it is very grand.”

”Yes, grand in the extreme,” said Dale. ”Here, Saxe,” he continued, giving the rope a jerk, ”come away now.”

The boy started again, and then frowned, as he felt as if he were being treated like a mule or a donkey, held by a halter.

”Ready, herrs?” said the guide. ”We must get on, please.”

”Which way?” said Dale.

”Straight up, herr, along by these rocks, till we are above that snow slope; then along the top across the shoulder, where we shall find an easy slope on the other side, and perhaps be able to have a glissade without going down a precipice at the bottom.”

”Oh, come!” cried Saxe; ”that's meant for me. How was I to know that the mountain ended suddenly like a wall?”

”Never mind that,” said Dale impatiently; ”it's growing late, and we want to get back to camp. Why, Melchior, we are going to have a storm!”

”Yes, herr; I'm afraid so.”

”Then why go up there and along the top? Surely we can go diagonally up the snowfield from here to the corner below the shoulder, and we shall save half a mile, at least!”

”Yes, herr; nearer a mile,” said the guide, gazing up thoughtfully at the smooth snowfield; ”but there is a great slope there.”

”Yes, but away from this horrible precipice. I suppose that goes down into an inner valley?”

”Yes, herr; and extends right to the bottom--all snow.”

”Then a slip and a roll would not matter?”

”No, herr.”