"I sat!" cried Saxe, as the guide led on again, and the mule followed
patiently enough.
"Yes, herr."
"Suppose two goats were to meet here, what would they do!"
"One would lie down and the other jump over him."
"But suppose it were two mules?"
"I don't know, herr. One of them might make the other back all the way;
but mules are stubborn, and I'm afraid that one would push the other
off."
"And what then?"
"He would swim for awhile, and then drown."
"Why," said Saxe, "I thought this lake was very beautiful; but you seem
to be taking all the blue out of it. Ugh! why, it would be like falling
into a well and trying to get out. I shall be glad to get away from
this place."
"That's imagination, Saxe," said Dale; "and imagination is something all
mountaineers should leave behind."
"Why?" said Saxe argumentatively.
"Don't go so near to the mule's heels: if he kicks you, nothing could
save you from a fall into the lake."
"That's imagination, sir," said Saxe, laughing; "and imagination is
something all mountaineers should leave behind."
Dale frowned, but laughed directly after.
"Pert, but smart, Saxe," he said. "Seriously, though, a mountain
climber, who must naturally be often walking along risky places, has
enough to think about without indulging in fancies of what might be if
this happened or that took place. Such thoughts may unnerve him; and
you may depend upon it, some of the bravest things are done by those who
think the least. I remember, one day in London, seeing the men taking
down one of those vast scaffolds formed, not of poles, but of square
timbers bolted together; and I saw one man, about a hundred and fifty
feet from the ground, standing on one of these pieces of timber, which
was fastened to an upright at each end. He was looking on while another
workman unscrewed one of the bolts which held it."
"How wide was it?" said Saxe, looking down at the narrow shelf of rock
upon which he was walking.
"About ten inches, I suppose. There was nothing near him, for he was on
the very top of the scaffolding, which swayed a little with the weight
of the wood; but he seemed perfectly cool and comfortable up there, and
after a few minutes he turned and walked along it to the other end,
while I, who have often gone along dangerous ledges of ice, felt my
hands turn wet inside."
"With fright?"
"Call it nervousness," said Dale. "No: call it fear or fright. Of
course I imagined that at any moment the poor fellow might turn giddy
and fall. But if that beam had been lying on the pavement, any one
would have walked or run along it without hesitation, for there is no
question of balancing on a piece of flat wood ten inches wide. The
imagination is the danger."
"Then sailors can't have any imagination," said Saxe thoughtfully.
"It is to be hoped not, of that kind. If they ever thought of falling,
they would never be able to run along the yards of a big ship as they
do."
"Well, I'll try and not have any imagination," said Saxe. "I shouldn't
like you to say you wished that you had not brought me, for you could
not go anywhere you wanted because I was such a coward."
"I trust to you to be neither cowardly nor rash," said Dale, "and you
may trust to me not to take you into more dangerous places than I can
help. But it really is a matter of habit. Why, people never think of
the danger, but every time they run up or downstairs they risk a severe
fall; and I once knew of a sailor lad, accustomed to go aloft and climb
over the bulwarks into the main chains or the rigging under the
bowsprit, who would pull all the clothes off his bed of a night and make
them up on the floor, because he was afraid of tumbling out of bed in
the night. Hah! we are getting near the end of the lake. Why, Saxe, it
does look black and deep!"
"But I don't see any place where it runs out," said Saxe. "There ought
to be a river or a waterfall here, oughtn't there!"
"Wait a few minutes, and we shall see. Ah! to be sure--there it is; the
sides are so close together that they hardly show, but you can see now
where the ledge runs, right to that corner."
A hundred yards farther along the narrow ledge--a fault in the strata
which formed that side of the lake--and all doubt of their being at the
exit of the waters was at rest, for Melchior stopped short where the
ledge widened into a little platform at the angle of the rock forming
one of the sides of a mere crack in the titanic wall of perpendicular
mountain, which in places actually overhung them, and ran up fully a
thousand feet.
The opening where they stood was some twenty feet wide, and through it
the waters of the lake poured with a low rushing sound, which seemed to
deepen farther in to a roar.
Saxe was pressing forward to look in at the opening; but Melchior met
them and pointed back over the lake, at the head of which rose a huge
mountain mass, snow-clad and glistening, on either side of which
glaciers could be seen running sharply down, while away on the left
another winding, frozen river descended.
"Grand!" exclaimed Dale; but the next moment he turned to the opening by
which they stood, the rushing waters having a weird fascination for them
both.
"The schlucht," said Melchior quietly.
"I say," said Saxe: "you don't mean to say we've got to go through
there?"
"Yes," said the guide calmly. "I have never taken a mule through, but I
think we can manage it."
"But is it all like this?" said Saxe, looking aghast.
"Oh no, herr; it runs together a few yards farther in, and is so narrow
that in one place you can stretch your arms and touch both sides at
once."
"Then it is open right through?"
"Yes, herr. The mountain must have split open at some time or other, to
let the water of the lake run out."
"Yes; and how far is it through?" said Dale.
"About a mile: less than half an hour."
"And this ledge goes right along?"
"Just as it has run by the side of the lake, herr. A little narrower
sometimes."
"But you say the gorge--the crack--gets narrower directly."
"Oh yes--much, herr. It is never so wide as this."
"But the water: is there room for it?"
"The crack or split in the rocks must be very deep down, for all the
water from the lake runs through here, and it's quite a big river on the
other side."
"And what other way is there, Melchior?" asked Saxe.
"The way we came."
"No other?"
The guide shook his head.
"What do you think of it, Saxe? Will you venture?"