"Yes. I'm not going to be beaten by a mule!"
"Go on, then," said Dale quietly, "and as soon as we are through we must
have a halt for a meal."
"Not as soon as we are through, herr," said Melchior, smiling; and he
began to unfasten the mule's girths.
"What are you doing?" cried Saxe.
"Taking off the pannier," replied the guide. "The ledge is narrow
farther in, and it would be awkward if the basket caught against the
rock. It might cause him to make a false step, and it would be a bad
place to fall in."
"Bad place? Horrible!" said Dale, frowning.
"But, I say, you can't leave the basket behind with all the victuals,"
cried Saxe.
"No, herr; as soon as the mule is through, I shall come back and fetch
it."
"We two must carry it between us, slung on the alpenstocks," said Dale.
"No, herr, I will manage it all," said Melchior quietly. "I can soon
fetch the basket, and it will be better. The young herr will want all
his activity to get along without a load. I have been here four times
before. I should have been five times; but one May the snow had melted
after a great rain, and the lake was so full that the waters were feet
above the pathway, and they rushed through, so that the great walls of
rock shook as if they would fall in. There," he said, removing the
mule's load and carrying it two or three yards back, to place it against
the natural wall. "It will be quite safe there," he continued, with a
smile; "nobody will come. Ah, Gros, my friend, is that cool and
restful?"
The mule whinnied, arched up its back, and shook itself, swung back its
head, first one side then on the other, to bite at the hot place where
the basket had been, but apparently without allaying the hot irritation
which troubled it.
"Ah! come along Gros," cried Melchior, twining the rope bridle about his
arm; "that will soon be better. Follow pretty close, gentlemen: it is
rather dark, but cool and pleasant after the hot sunshine."
"Well done, Saxe!" said Dale, with a smile; "that's brave."
"What is, sir? I did not say or do anything."
"Yes, you did, boy," whispered Dale; and the lad flushed a little. "You
bit your lips and then set your teeth, and you said to yourself, `he
sha'n't see that I am afraid!' Didn't you?"
Saxe looked at him inquiringly, and took off his cap and wiped his brow,
while his alpenstock rested in the hollow of his arm.
"Something like it, sir," said Saxe, rather dolefully. "I couldn't help
it."
"Of course not."
"Ach! Dummkopf! What do you do?" cried the guide angrily; for just at
that moment the mule uttered a loud squeal, arched its back, and leaped
off the rock; came down on all fours, and then threw itself upon its
flanks, in spite of a jerk at the bridle; squealed again, and threw up
its legs, which fell back against the rocky wall; threw them up again,
and for a moment they were perpendicular, so well was the balance kept,
as the animal wriggled its spine so as to get a good rub on the rock.
Then, while the two travellers realised the danger of this taking place
on the narrow platform, not a dozen feet above the rushing water, and
Melchior still jerked at the bridle, over went the animal's legs toward
the edge, and it tried to gather them up for another roll.
It had another roll, but it was a roll off the edge, and almost before
Dale and his companion could fully grasp the extent of the accident, the
mule fell with a tremendous splash into the stream, jerking Melchior
after it by the wrist. Then they both disappeared. But only for a few
moments.
"Look! look!" yelled Saxe, as the mule's head shot up in the shadow
thirty or forty feet farther in, so swift was the current. Then up came
its forelegs, and it began to paw the water like a drowning dog, just as
Melchior rose to the surface, but only in time to receive the hoofs of
the struggling mule on his chest, and he disappeared again, while the
water rolled the mule over and down out of sight.
The next moment both were swept right into the gloomy cavernous place,
to what was evidently certain death.