But, to the surprise of Saxe, the guide took no heed--he merely went on fastening the rope till he had done.

"You will not venture along that shelf while it is so thick, Melchior?"

said Dale.

"Oh yes, herr. We must not wait here."

"But the danger!"

"There is scarcely any, herr," replied the guide. "The great danger is of going astray. We cannot go wrong here. We have only to go along the shelf to the end."

"But it is like going along the edge of a precipice in the dark."

"It is like darkness, and more confusing, herr; but we have the wall on our left to steady us, and where we are is terribly exposed. Trust me, sir."

"Forward!" said Dale quietly. "Keep the rope fairly tight."

Melchior stepped at once on to the ledge, and the others followed, all three going cautiously and very slowly through the opaque mist, which looked so solid at Saxe's feet that more than once he was ready to make a false step, while he wondered in himself that he did not feel more alarm, but attributed the cause rightly to the fact that he could not see the danger yawning below. To make the pa.s.sage along this ledge the more perilous and strange, each was invisible to the other, and their voices in the awful solitude sounded m.u.f.fled and strange.

As Saxe stepped cautiously along, feeling his way by the wall and beating the edge of the precipice with the handle of his ice-axe, he felt over again the sensations he had had in pa.s.sing along there that morning. But the dread was not so keen--only lest there should be a sudden strain on the rope caused by one of them slipping; and he judged rightly that, had one of them gone over the precipice here, nothing could have saved the others, for there was no good hold that they could seize, to bear up against the sudden jerk.

"Over!" shouted Melchior at last. "Steady, herr--steady! Don't hurry!

That's it: give me your hand."

"I can't see you."

"No? Come along, then, another yard or two: you are not quite off the ledge. That's it. Safe!"

"And thank goodness!" said Dale, with a sigh of relief, a few minutes later. "That was worse than ever. Saxe, my lad, you are having a month's mountaineering crowded into one day."

"Yes, herr," said Melchior; "he is having a very great lesson, and he'll feel a different person when he lies down to sleep."

"He will if we have anywhere to sleep to-night. It seems to me as if we must sit under a block of stone and wait until this mist is gone."

"Oh no, herr," said the guide; "we will keep to the rope, and you two will save me if I get into a bad place. I seem to know this mountain pretty well now; and, if you recollect, there was nothing very bad. I think we'll go on, if you please, and try and reach the camp."

"You asked me to trust you," said Dale. "I will. Go on."

"Forward, then; and if I do not hit the snow col I shall find the valley, and we can journey back."

For the first time Saxe began to feel how utterly exhausted he had grown. Till now the excitement and heat of the journey had monopolised all his thoughts; but, as they stumbled on down slope after slope strewn with debris, or over patches of deep snow, his legs dragged heavily, and he struck himself awkwardly against blocks of granite that he might have avoided.

The work was comparatively simple, though. It was downward, and that must be right unless Melchior led them to the edge of some terrible precipice right or left of the track they had taken in the morning.

But matters began to go easier and easier, for at the end of another hour's tramp they suddenly emerged from the mist, coming out below it, and after a few more dozen steps seeing it like a roof high above their heads.

Here the guide stopped, mounted a stone, and stood looking about him in the evening light.

"I see," he cried: "we are not half an hour out of our way. Off to the right we shall reach the snow, and then our task is done."

Melchior was right: in less than the time he had named they reached the place where they had left the great snow slope, up which they had had to zigzag; and after descending it diagonally for some distance, the guide proposed a glissade.

"The young herr shall come down behind me this time," he said; and after a few preliminary words of advice they started, and rapidly descended safely to the debris at the foot of the snow, from which the walk to the camp was not long.

Melchior soon had a good fire burning, with Gros standing near contemplating it solemnly, while Dale placed their provisions ready.

"Now, Saxe, my lad," he said, "I congratulate you on your display of honest English pluck to-day. I don't see that any boy of your age could have behaved better. Come along: coffee's ready. You must be half starved."

There was a pause.

"Ready, Melchior?"

"Yes, herr: the coffee smells heavenly, and I have an appet.i.te for three."

"You shall satisfy it, then. To-morrow we'll go back and fetch all our traps, and then come over here again; for I do not think we can get a better part for our search. Come, Saxe, wake up."

But there was no reply: Saxe was sleeping with all his might after the tremendous exertions of the day.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

CAUGHT IN A TRAP.

The mist on the mountain had not been without its meaning, and a heavy persistent rain kept them all the next day close in under the shelter of the rock, where the fire had to be lighted too, and after a great deal of difficulty this was accomplished by Melchior getting a few stout dead branches and bringing them under cover.

These he whittled into shavings, and these shavings served to start the green pine boughs which had formed their beds; and once a pretty good glow was obtained, with plenty of embers, the wetness of the branches brought under cover mattered very little, especially as the guide ranged them close to the fire to dry, ready against they were required; and had contrived that the blinding smoke should sweep right out at once, a few broad branched boughs stuck in the ground or propped upright helping to establish a draught.

The feeling of restfulness and the hot coffee were sufficient to make the first hour tolerable, in spite of the constant dripping of the trees and the rush of water down from the natural eaves of their shelter; but after a time it began to grow monotonous.

The outlook was not extensive either, for beyond the thick driving rain the hollows were filled with dense mist, and the mountains around were quite invisible; and Saxe turned from gazing out between two little shoots of water to look rather appealingly at Dale.

"What's the matter, Saxe?" said the latter.

"It's so horribly wet."

"Well, it's wet everywhere sometimes. Sit down near the fire and rest.

You'll be all the better for it when the rain is over."

"But it looks as if it never would be over."

"But it will be. There: help keep up the fire, and be patient. We can't always be climbing."

"I say, look at that," cried Saxe, laughing; for just then the mule, which had been grazing a short distance away, troubling itself not in the slightest degree about the rain, came slowly towards them, with its s.h.a.ggy coat looking as if it had been oiled, and the water trickling from it in streams, as if it were a walking reservoir filled a little too full.

It was evident that it considered the rain a little too heavy now, for it thrust its head under cover, and blinked for a few moments at the fire before giving itself a tremendous shake, sending the water flying from its ears, and then drooped them low down, as if holding them out to the fire to dry.

In this position its head was in shelter, but the rain streamed down upon its back and hind quarters, while a perfect deluge, like that from a waterspout, ran down a long gully in the overhanging rock right on to the spine just between the shoulders, and there divided to trickle on either side down the fore legs, and then run down through the pine needles, which formed too thick a bed for any of the water to make a pool.