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."

"Then why do you hesitate, man?" cried Dale peevishly, as the guide stood with his brow shaded, gazing up at the dazzling slope which rose from them at a little distance and then curved over and disappeared.

"I was looking, herr, because I mistrusted that snow. It does not look healthy."

"What, likely to give way? Absurd! There are no creva.s.ses there."

"Oh no, herr. It is all rock below."

"Of course: it must be. Well, we will take the cut right across that snow to the opposite corner."

"The herr desires it?" said Melchior gravely.

"Yes, certainly. It is folly to go so far round."

"The snow is not always good, herr; and the longest way round is sometimes the nearest."

"Yes, but with a storm coming on, perhaps!" said Dale sharply.

"It may be hours yet, herr."

"The better for us. Let's get back down into shelter."

Melchior said no more, but unfastened the rope, and after coiling it up, led them along for some distance, till the great cornice was left behind, and they descended into a little valley over snow, ice and rock, till they reached the stream hurrying down the hollow, crossed it, made a similar ascent, and just as Saxe had it in his mind to say, "I thought we were going over that snowfield," they climbed up through a little wilderness of blocks, and they were upon the edge of the unsullied slope, which ran up to left and down to their right apparently for a mile.

"Ah!" cried Dale, springing upon the snow, which allowed his feet to sink in a little; "capital condition! Now, Melchior, forward!"

"Yes, herr," said the guide, testing the snow with his foot; "there will be no steps to cut here."

He then started off to cross the great snowfield diagonally, so as to reach the rocks at the far top corner, his feet sinking more deeply into the soft crystals than was conducive to good progress, and Saxe first, and then Dale, keeping pretty well to his footprints.

"Disappointing, this," said Dale, when they were about a third of the way across. "I thought we were to have nothing but downward progress now."

"It is puffing work, too!" cried Saxe.

"Herr! herr!" said the guide, stopping short in his tracks, and speaking in a reproachful whisper.

"What's the matter?" said Saxe.

"There is a great deal of loose snow high up on our left, and if you set any of it in motion it would be bad."

"I forgot," said Saxe apologetically. "I will be more careful."

"That's right," said Dale. "Not much danger, though, here. No fear of being bombarded by stones--eh, Melchior?"

"No, herr," said the guide, looking about him anxiously. "Shall we get on?"

Dale nodded, and they tramped on through the soft snow for some distance farther; when, just as Saxe was asking himself whether he was growing tired or the snow much more soft, Melchior paused once more and looked upward.

"Yes--what is it?" said Dale quickly.