"Will the ice edge cut?"

"No: the rope will cut down a smooth channel in the ice. Ready?-- Together."

There was a brief interval of hauling, and several feet were drawn over, so that Saxe was able to get hold of the rope too; and they rested again, for in that position everything depended on their arms.

"Now I have him," cried Dale. "Hold on with one hand while you reach your axe, and anchor it in the hole you made."

"Done," cried Saxe.

"Haul again."

They hauled, and another foot or so was gained.

"Now hitch the rope well round the axe handle," cried Dale, "and get it tight."

This was done; the rope being twisted above the band of leather placed to keep the hand from slipping; and with this to take off the stress, Dale was able, while well holding on, to get to his knees, and then to his feet, when, planting his heels in one of the grooves cut in the ice, he took a fresh grip of the rope.

"Now, Saxe," he cried; "up with you! Behind me!"

The lad grasped the position, and leaped up and seized the rope behind Dale.

"Now, then!--a steady haul together!"

The battle seemed to be nearly won, for the rope glided on steadily over the ice, cutting pretty deeply the while, but after the first few seconds apparently without friction.

Foot by foot, a steady pull, till there was a sudden check.

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dale. "I see. We are at the end of the new rope, and the knot has caught in the groove we've made. I can hold him, Saxe.

Take your axe, and pick the ice away on one side. Mind! you must not touch the rope."

Saxe took his axe, and a few strokes with the pointed end broke off a good-sized piece. The knot glided over, and the next minute, with the same idea inspiring both, they began to haul up Melchior's rope.

Will this last out, and not be broken by the friction?

Foot by foot--foot by foot--till at any moment they felt they would see the man's hand appear; and all seemed to depend now upon the state in which the poor fellow would be in when he reached the surface. If he were perfectly helpless, the worst part, perhaps, of their task would come. If he could aid, it would be comparatively easy.

At last there was a faint glow of light behind the edge, which grew plainer in the gloom in which they had been working, and directly after Melchior's hand reached the edge.

Dale was a man of resource, and he was about to call upon Saxe to hitch the rope round the axe handle once more--that which acted as an anchor-- when he saw in the faint glow that the fingers clutched at the edge.

"Haul! haul!" he cried; and as they pulled the whole arm appeared above the edge, and was stretched flat on the ice. And the next moment, with a dash, the guide's axe was swung over the edge, and the sharp point dug down into the glistening surface, giving the poor fellow a slight hold, which, little as it was, proved some help.

It has been said that Dale was a man of resource, and he proved it more than ever now.

"I can hold him," he cried. "Take the rope, and lower down a big loop right over his head. That's right: lower away." Then, as Saxe responded quickly, he cried to the guide, "Try if you can get one or both your legs through the loop."

There was a little sc.r.a.ping and movement before the poor fellow said, hoa.r.s.ely--

"Through."

"Now, Saxe, twist the rope as quickly as you can, so as to get hold."

Saxe twisted the double rope till the loop closed upon the guide's leg; and then there was a momentary pause.

"Now, ready! When I say haul, try to help us all you can. Haul!"

Saxe had his heel in a groove, and he struggled with all his might, Melchior aiding him so effectually that, as Dale drew the poor fellow's arm farther, Saxe was able to raise the leg he held to the level; and the next moment the guide lay p.r.o.ne on the ice with the lanthorn still burning, and attached to the waist.

"Both together again!" cried Dale hoa.r.s.ely; and they dragged him a few yards along the ice perfectly helpless, for he had exhausted himself in that last effort to reach the surface.

"Take--off--that--that light!" said Dale, in a strange tone of voice; and then, before Saxe could run to his a.s.sistance, he staggered toward the creva.s.se and fell heavily.

The boy's heart was in his mouth. For the moment it had seemed as if Dale were going headlong down, but he lay a good two feet from the edge, a distance which Saxe increased by drawing him over the ice; and then, himself utterly exhausted, he sank upon his knees helpless as a child, the ice glimmering in a peculiarly weird and ghastly way, the dark sky overhead--far from all aid--faint and famished from long fasting--and with two insensible men dumbly appealing to him for his a.s.sistance.

It was not at all a matter of wonder that Saxe should say piteously--

"What can I do? Was ever poor fellow so miserable before?"

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A GREAT CALL ON A BOY.

Saxe's depression was only very temporary. As his breath, short from exertion, began to come more regularly, his thoughts dropped back from the tangle of weak helplessness into their proper common-sense groove.

Going to Dale, he turned him over on to his back, and then went to Melchior, who lay motionless; but he was quite sensible, and spoke.

Saxe drew out the flask, and poured a few drops between Dale's lips.

Then, returning to the guide, he treated him in the same manner before clasping the poor fellow's hand between both his own, and crying in a choking voice--

"Oh, Melchior! Thank G.o.d--thank G.o.d!"

"Ja, herr," said the poor fellow in a whisper, as he reverted to his native tongue: "Gott sei dank!"

Just then Dale began to recover, and uttered a low groan; but consciousness came with one stride, and he sat up, looked sharply round, and said sharply--

"Surely I did not swoon? Ah! I was utterly exhausted. Well, Melchior, lad," he continued, with a forced laugh, "you are no light weight; but we tested the two ropes well. However did you get down to this place?"

"Don't ask me now, herr," said the guide. "I am weak, and want rest.

Will you let me grasp your hand?"

"My dear fellow!" cried Dale eagerly, and he seized and held the poor fellow's hand in both of his. "Now, how are you? Can you get up and walk?"

"Oh, yes, herr; and the sooner the better, for I am wet, and it is so cold: I am nearly benumbed."

"Here, let's help you," cried Dale, and he and Saxe pa.s.sed their arms under the poor fellow's shoulders and raised him up.

"Thank you--thank you!" he said. "It is the cold that makes me so helpless. Let me sit on that block for a few minutes while you coil up the ropes."