"Yes, it was bad," said Melchior, quite calmly. "It is so swift and the water so full of air that you cannot swim, and one was turned about so and rolled over, but I held on to Gros here, and it did not take long before we were through."

"But your breath? Did you keep on the surface?" said Dale.

"I don't know, herr. It was all darkness and confusion; but we were rolled up against the rock sometimes, and I managed to get my breath.

Then we were driven on and on very fast. You see the rock is worn so smooth, there is nothing against which you can catch. The stones swept down by the water have worn that all away, and one goes quite quick, holding one's breath, till one is shot out as if from a gun, and the water gets smoother. Then we got our breath easily, and Gros here began to swim while I held on by his mane; but we had to go a long way down before there was a place for the mule to land."

"But do you mean to tell me," cried Dale, "that you both came through that horrible place and are none the worse for it?"

The guide smiled.

"Well, herr," he said, "I am very wet, and there were moments when I thought I could not hold my breath any longer, but there are no bones broken and no cuts or grazes."

"Then there is nothing else the matter with you?" cried Saxe.

"Well, yes, herr; I am very hungry."

"Hungry!" cried Saxe excitedly. "Yes, of course: I'd forgotten; so am I. Here, Mr Dale, let you and me go and get the basket whilst he dries himself in the sun."

"No, no," cried Melchior firmly, "neither of you could carry that pannier through the schlucht. I am wet, and it will do me good to get warm carrying the load."

"No, Melchior, it would not be right," said Dale. "I will go."

"No, herr," said Melchior firmly; "as your guide I should be disgracing myself by letting you run the risk. I have been used from a child to carry loads upon my back along ledges and places where an Englishman would shrink from going. I am not hurt or tired: it is my duty; so with all respect to you I will go."

"But--"

"Answer me, herr, as a gentleman," cried Melchior warmly: "do you feel that you could safely carry that pannier through the schlucht?"

"I should try to," said Dale.

"Ah! that shows weakness: you cannot say that you would."

They went back to a spot where there was a rich patch of gra.s.s, and here the guide alighted and took off the mule's bridle to turn it loose, when it immediately proved that nothing was the matter in its direction by having a good roll in the gra.s.s and then proceeding to crop it with the best of appet.i.tes.

"Light your pipe, herr," said Melchior, smiling: "I dare say I shall be back before you have got through it twice;" and springing from rock to rock, he soon reached the ledge nearly flush with the water, and they watched him enter the low narrow long chasm till his figure grew dim in the gloom; and a minute later had disappeared.

"I don't feel comfortable at letting him go, Saxe," said Dale.

"I do, sir," began Saxe.

"Stop!" cried Dale.

"What's the matter, sir?" cried Saxe, wondering.

"This, my boy! Never mind the sir while we are out here as companions.

We are friends and helpmates--brothers if you like. Now what were you going to say?"

"Oh! only that I don't feel uneasy about him. A man who could tumble into the water at the other end and be shot through like a pellet from a popgun, can't come to any harm. I say, how long do you think he'll be?"

"Nearly an hour," replied Dale.

"Nearly an hour," cried Saxe dolefully--"an hour to wait before we can get anything to eat. Ah! you lucky beggar," he continued, apostrophising the mule, "you've got plenty, and are enjoying it, while I've got none. But I mean to--"

"Here! what are you going to do?" cried Dale.

"Climb down to the water's edge and have a good drink. I'm as thirsty as a fish."

"Then we must look out for a spring. You can't drink that water."

"Can't drink it?" cried Saxe; "why, I'm so thirsty, I could drink anything."

"Not that. Why, it's full of stone and snow. Bad as bad can be. Come along, and let's see what we can find. It will be better than doing nothing; and I'm thirsty too. Let's try that little rift in the mountain. It looks the sort of place for a rivulet to come sparkling down amongst moss and ferns. Let's try."

He led the way toward the rift, which looked like the beginning of a similar chasm to that through which they had so lately come, Saxe following closely behind, while the mule went on crop, crop at the thin fine gra.s.s, with his coat rapidly drying in the hot afternoon sun.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

A GLISSADE IS NOT ALL BLISS.

It took a long time to find that bubbling spring; but they discovered it at last, coming down from hundreds of feet above their heads, over vivid green moss and under fern fronds, to form into tiny pools in the crevices of the rocks; and from one of these they drank with avidity long cooling draughts of the sparkling water dipped out in the flask cup, and then they turned to go.

As they walked back, it was to find that Melchior had just returned with the pannier, and had been spreading part of his clothes in the sun to dry.

"We have been after water," said Dale.

"Ah! you found it all right, then?" said the guide eagerly.

"Yes; but it is a good way off, and I only had my flask with me."

"Good way off!" said Melchior. "Why, it is close here."

"But we could not drink that," cried Saxe.

"Why? It is beautiful water. I will show you."

He took a tin from the basket as he spoke.

"Well, you can drink it if you like," said Saxe. "I wouldn't have minded it out of the lake; but this thick stuff--why, it's horrid."

"From the lake? No, not good," said the guide. "Bad for the throat.

See here!"

He took a dozen steps toward the schlucht, and pa.s.sed round a huge ma.s.s of rock, behind which a pure fount of water gushed out from a rift, at whose foot Gros was drinking where the water ran down to join the river.

"Some people say that they like to travel without a guide," said Dale quietly.