"A minute's rest for the young herr, sir. As soon as he has his breath well go on. The snow is loose, but better than I expected. I was a little afraid at starting."

"Afraid? Of what?"

"The snow is often a little treacherous in a place like this, herr; and as it is so loose we shall have to be careful about glissading when we get beyond the rocks yonder."

"But surely there is nothing treacherous here?" said Dale: "a little soft, perhaps, but that is all. Go on: we ought to be up there in another quarter of an hour."

"Yes, herr," said the guide, after another glance up at the wreaths and folds of pure white snow which draped the mountain high above their heads; and then, after giving Saxe an encouraging smile, he went on again, with his boots crunching down the snow, forming a series of impressions which were deepened by those who followed.

Half the distance--two-thirds--was pa.s.sed; and as he struggled on, feeling hot now and as if the exertion were telling upon him, Saxe glanced back, wondering at the length of the track they had made, and how the snowfield had seemed to extend as they trudged along.

"Yes," said Dale, from close behind him, as he divined the boy's thoughts, "it is a long way; but we shall soon reach the rocks now, and then the worst part of our journey is done."

Crack!

A long dull report, as of something breaking; and Melchior stopped short and uttered a groan.

"What is it?" cried Dale excitedly.

"The snow, herr--the snow!" cried Melchior. "See!"

He spoke calmly and solemnly, but made no effort to dash on; though, as he realised their danger, Dale's first impulse was to call upon Saxe to try and reach the rocks.

Melchior knew that it would be impossible, and he stood firm, ready to meet his fate.

For far above them a dark jagged line had opened across the snowfield, with the dull report they had heard. That crack had begun to widen rapidly, with a curious hissing noise, and the next moment Saxe saw that the vast snow slope was in motion, and that they were being carried by it downward toward the valley, a couple of thousand yards below.

Everything happened so quickly that the boy had no time to feel alarm.

One quick thought darted through his brain,--that they would be carried so far down that they would have to make a long detour. Then his arm was seized by Melchior, and a sound above him made him gaze upward, to see that the snow was forming in long folds, like waves, upon the slope, and threatening to curve over and bury them. Then their speed increased, the rolling sound rose into a terrific roar, and the boy fully grasped the fact that they had started an avalanche, and were being hurried downward to destruction.

"Can't we--we--"

Saxe said no more, for at that moment a rush of snow swept by them as if borne upon the wings of some terrible tempest, and in the midst of the suffocating sensation he felt himself sinking lower and lower. The snow was at his waist; then, as he was borne swiftly down, at his breast; and the next instant at his lips; and all the while he was gliding downward at railway speed.

"Melk! Help!" he cried hoa.r.s.ely, as he was twisted violently round and borne down backward; and then the snow seemed to leap right over him, and all was dark.

What followed was blind confusion, in which Saxe struggled to fight back the snow, so that he could breathe, for the sense of suffocation was terrible. Then all at once the rapid gliding motion ceased, and in the darkness he felt as if he were being held tightly in some terrible embrace, which closed round him slowly and surely, till only his arms were at liberty, and with these he fought.

And now he found that he still held the ice-axe that had been his companion all day. It was stretched right out above him as far as he could reach, and, as he moved it, to his intense joy he could see a pale ray of light, one which increased as he moved the axe again, telling him that, though he was buried, the head of the axe was above the level of the snow.

His first efforts were to enlarge the hole that ran right up, very little larger than the handle of the axe, though the beating with his hand had formed quite a little hollow about his head.

"The snow has stopped, and I am only buried so deep," he thought to himself, as the horrible feeling of panic began to subside. "If I can make that hole bigger, so as to be able to breathe, I ought soon to be able to creep out."

He worked away, enlarging the hole a little; but he had to observe the greatest caution, for fear of filling the little perpendicular tunnel with the loose snow. It was but little, still it enabled him to breathe more freely; and as soon as he reached this pitch he began to strive to raise himself, first one leg and then the other, to force himself out to the surface.

And now the feeling of horror, which had pa.s.sed away for the moment, returned, as he grasped the fact that the loose snow, in which he had been swept down, had been pressed together by the weight above it, till to his waist he felt as if he were enclosed in solid ice.

In spite of his position the perspiration broke out upon his forehead, and the wild horror which seized him nearly robbed him of his senses till the reaction came.

"Melchior and Mr Dale will seek for me and dig me out," he thought. "I must listen till I hear them, and then shout."

He grew calmer now, and listened; but all was perfectly still, and a chill struck through him as he asked himself a terrible question--

"Where were his companions!"

He had been plodding on, he remembered, with Mr Dale behind him; but he had not seen a sign of his companion since, though he had seen Melchior, who had caught him by the wrist, and then--

"Yes: what then?"

He could remember no more, only that horrible confusion as they were carried down, till he was fighting for breath, buried at the bottom of the drift.

Saxe listened again, straining his ears for the faintest sound, but hearing nothing.

"They must have been carried farther," he tried to think; "and as soon as they can climb up they will begin to seek for me;" and he repeated this cheering thought to fight back another, which was vague, strange and terrible--a thought which suggested the impossibility of two people discovering the tiny hole made by the head of an ice-axe in the midst of the snow of that tremendous avalanche.

"I don't care; I will not give up hoping," he said to himself, as he moved the ice-axe gently, and saw a ray or two more light. Then he began to wonder whether the heat of his body would melt enough of the snow-ice about him to enable him to work his way out; and in this hope he waited and rested for a few minutes, for the exertion even of moving the axe seemed to set his heart beating fast.

Then once more the feeling of horror grew more terrible than he could bear; and he was fast succ.u.mbing to it and losing his senses, when he fancied that he heard a cry.

It ceased directly; and then, as he listened with every nerve on the strain, there it was again--faint, apparently very distant, but plainly enough--the jodel of some Swiss, if it were not that of the guide.

Throwing his head back as far as he could, and keeping the axe handle tight against the side of the narrow hole, Saxe sent up a despairing cry for help.

As he ceased he made a desperate struggle to free himself, but it was useless; and he listened again and to his great joy the jodel came again, and he answered it.

Then there was a terrible period of suspense; and, as no sound was heard, he yelled with all his might, and this time there was undoubtedly an answering call.

Once more he shouted, and a hail came from nearer; and then, to his despair, it was repeated from farther away, making the unfortunate prisoner utter a despairing cry of rage, which had the effect of bringing the sound once more nearer and nearer still, and at last so close that he knew it was Melchior's voice which cried--

"Now, once more shout. Where are you?"

Saxe's lips parted, and he drew in his breath in the excitement and relief of feeling that help was so close at hand; but no sound would come save a low, hoa.r.s.e gasp, and then a giddy sensation came over him, and once more all was darkness.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

FROM THE SNOW GRAVE.

Saxe seemed to have awakened from sleep with a terrible throbbing headache, to listen to a curious digging sound which was going on over his head. He could hear a loud rumbling too, and, as he was still wandering and confused at being suddenly awakened, as it appeared to him, the truth came with a leap, just as the axe handle, which he still held, was sharply agitated to keep the hole open, and Melchior's voice came down to him.

"Try--try and speak, young herr!" But for a few moments no word would come from his lips. He wanted to speak; he strove hard, wondering the while at his silence; but not a sound came, till there was a deep groan from above him, and then with a sudden rush the words came from his pent up breast--

"Melk! Help--help!"

"Hah! That's right. Yes, boy!" was shouted down to him loudly.

"That's right. Keep a good heart, and I'll soon have you out. Can you breathe well?"