"Yes, herr; there are plenty who come here, and think they know in a day all that it has taken me more than twenty years to learn."

He led the way back to the basket, and busily spread their homely dinner on a smooth block of stone, Saxe vowing that he had never eaten such bread and cheese before.

When the meal was ended, and the basket once more placed on the mule's back, Dale looked inquiringly at the guide.

"Over yonder, herr," he said, pointing at the wall of rock away to their left.

"But we can't get up there with the mule," cried Saxe: "we're not flies."

"Wait and see, herr," replied Melchior. "We shall mount yonder, and then go right over the col between those two peaks. There is the valley on the other side that we are seeking, and there we must rest for the night."

"Then the sooner we start the better," said Dale, "for the day is getting on."

"Yes, herr; and the mists come down into the col where the snow lies.

Are you ready?"

The answer was in the affirmative, and the guide started straight for the wall of rock, which still looked quite impa.s.sable as they drew near, till Melchior turned sharply round into a cleft, which looked as if a huge piece had been cut down from the mountain, and left guile separate and still standing.

Up this cleft they mounted steadily, till, to Saxe's surprise, he found himself high above the mighty wall which shut in the valley, and only now, as it were, at the foot of the mountains, which rose up fold beyond fold, apparently endless, and for the most part snow-capped, with snow lying deeply in the hollows, and filling up the narrow col or depression between the peaks where they were to pa.s.s.

Saxe looked up at the snow, and then at Dale, who also seemed to have his doubts.

"Can we pa.s.s that before dark?" he said.

"Yes, herr. Trust me: I know."

"But how far have we to go on the other side? If it is very far, had we not better camp here for the night?"

"When we reach the summit of the col, herr, our task is done. There is a deep hollow, well sheltered, and where the snow never falls."

"I leave myself in your hands, Melchior," said Dale. "Go on."

The climb over the rugged ground was very laborious, but there was a brisk freshness in the air which kept fatigue at a distance, and they toiled on up and up, with the sloping rays of the sun making the snow above them indescribably beautiful.

"Yes," said Saxe, "but I'm getting too tired and out of breath to enjoy it now. I'll do that to-morrow."

"The young herr shall come and see the sun rise on the snow pa.s.ses,"

said Melchior. "I will call him."

"No, don't, please," said Saxe. "I shall want two days' sleep after this."

The guide laughed, patted Gros, who trudged on as fresh apparently as ever, till they reached the rough culm of a ridge, to look down at once on the snow slope to which they had to descend for a couple of hundred feet, the ridge they were on acting as a b.u.t.tress to keep the snow from gliding down into the valley.

"Is that the last?" asked Saxe.

"Yes, herr. One hour's quiet, steady work. Half an hour after, the fire will be burning and the kettle boiling for our tea."

"What! up there in that snow!"

"No, herr: we shall have descended into the warm shelter of which I spoke."

They soon reached the foot of the snow, which rose up in one broad smooth sheet, pure and white beyond anything existing lower down, and as, now thoroughly tired, Saxe gazed up at the beautiful curve descending from the mountains on either side, it seemed to be a tremendous way up.

"The snow is pretty hard," said Melchior. "Use my steps."

He clapped the mule on the haunch, and the st.u.r.dy beast set off at once up the laborious ascent, with its hoofs sinking in deeply, as instinctively it sloped off to the right instead of breasting the ascent at once.

"But what about the rope, Melchior?" said Dale sharply.

"There is no need for a rope here, herr. This snow lies on the solid rock, and every crevice and hollow is full, with the snow harder and more strong the deeper we go."

"Of course: I had forgotten. This is not a glacier. Come, Saxe!

Tired?"

"Wait till I get to the top," was the reply; and they climbed on, with the snow gradually changing colour as it was bathed in the evening sunshine, till they seemed to be tramping up and up over grains of gold, which went rushing back as Gros plunged his way upward, turning from time to time, and retracing his steps at an angle, thus forming a zigzag as regular as if it had been marked out for him at starting.

"Seems to grow as one climbs," grumbled Saxe at last, as he grew too tired to admire the glorious prospect of gilded peaks which kept on opening out at every turn.

"But it does not," replied Dale. "Come: do your best! It's splendid practice for your muscles and wind. You are out of breath now, but a week or two hence you will think nothing of a slope like this; and to-morrow I am thinking of ascending that peak, if you like to come."

"Which?" cried Saxe.

"That to the right, where the rock is clear on one side and it is all snow on the other."

"Yes, I see."

"It is not one of the high peaks, but the rocks look attractive, and it will be practice before I try something big. But you'll be too much done up with to-day's work."

Saxe frowned, and they went on in silence for a time, till, at one of the turns made by the mule, Dale paused.

"Like a rest?" he said.

"No," replied Saxe; "we may as well get to the top first."

Dale smiled to himself.

"He has plenty of spirit," he muttered; and he watched Saxe toiling on, with his feet sinking in the snow at every step, and how he never once glanced up at the top of the col for which they were making; but he gave a start and his face lit up as Melchior suddenly uttered his peculiar jodel.

"The top of the col," he cried; and, as the others joined him where he stood, with his arm over the mule's neck, he said, "Would the herrs like me to tell them the names of the different peaks?"

"Yes, after tea," said Saxe, laughing. "But, I say, I thought this was a sharp ridge, like the roof of a church, and that we should go down directly off the snow."

"Patience, herr," said Melchior. "Come along, then. It is colder up here. See how low the sun is, and feel how hard the snow becomes."

Saxe glanced at the great ruddy glow in the west, and saw how the different peaks had flashed up into brilliant light; he noted, too, that if he trod lightly, his feet hardly went through the crust on the snow.

"Why, it's beginning to freeze!" he cried suddenly.

"Yes, herr; on this side it is freezing hard. On the other side it will be soft yet. That is the south."