The loud crack of something breaking awoke Saxe to the knowledge that a
grey light was peering through the pines, and that, though he was
comfortably warm, there was a crisp coldness in the air he breathed.
Then there was another sharp crack, and another, as of sticks being
broken; and he raised himself up to begin looking cautiously round. For
Melchior had said that there were bears about still in the mountains,
and the first idea that occurred to him was that a savage beast was
breaking his way through the thick pine-wood with inimical intent.
Another crack and another, very close at hand, and then a faint sighing
sound--evidently the expiration of some living creature's breath.
Saxe felt a catching sensation at the breast, a tingling in the temples
and cheeks, as if his veins were startled and his blood running wild;
and he stole his hand softly out from under the rug, to try and reach
his companions and rouse them to a sense of the impending danger--trying
to recollect at the same moment where the ice-axes had been placed when
they lay down overnight.
But at that moment there was a sharper crack than ever, and a faint
odour of burning, followed by the quick crackling so familiar when a
green pine bough is thrown upon the flames.
"Oh, what a coward I am!" thought Saxe, sinking back and placing his
enlaced fingers beneath his head, as he gazed straight up at the dark
branches above. "Just as if a bear would come and attack us, even if
there was one anywhere near! He'd scuffle off as soon as he smelt man."
"Perhaps not if he was very hungry," he thought, after a few minutes.
"But I do wish I could feel brave, like men do, and not turn shaky and
queer at the least thing. Here was I imagining all that rubbish just
because I heard a stick broken by old Melchior to make the fire.
Yesterday all I had to do was to walk along a shelf of rock, with some
water running down below me. If it had been out in the open sunshine I
shouldn't have minded a bit; but because it was a little dark I fancied
all sorts of stuff. Of course it was a bit startling to see a fellow go
head over heels into a torrent along with a moke and be swept away; but
I don't believe old Melk was half so much frightened as I was."
"It's very silly lying here," he said to himself again, as the scent of
the burning pine-wood increased. "Bit cold outside the rug; but we left
the door and the windows open last night, and that's healthy all the
same. I do wish, though, I could get on without being scared so soon.
Perhaps it's all through being ill last year and feeling so weak. But I
didn't seem weak yesterday. I was precious tired, but so was Mr Dale.
I'm afraid I'm a coward, and I suppose all I can do is to hide it and
not let people see."
"They sha'n't see!" he muttered, after a few minutes; and then he lay
still, thinking of home, his mother and father, and of their ready
consent when Mr Dale offered to take him as his companion in an
experimental trip to the high Alps.
"I wonder what they are all doing now?" he thought. "Asleep, of course.
I don't believe my mother would sleep comfortably, though, if she knew
I was lying out here like this, with no bed-curtains and the snow just
over us. It is rum, though--summer and winter all muddled up together
so closely that you stand with your right leg in July, picking flowers
and catching butterflies, and the left leg in January, so that you can
turn over and make a snowball or pick icicles off the rocks."
A pleasant, drowsy sensation began to steal over him, and he was about
to give way to it, when the idea came like a flash that it would be idle
and cowardly; and this thought made him spring up, and fold the rug in
which he had been rolled; and after a glance at where Mr Dale still
slept, he went softly out of the clump of trees in the direction where
he could hear the crackling, to find Melchior in the act of placing the
tin kettle they had brought upon the fire.
"Good morning, herr. A fine day."
"Not much day about it," said Saxe, with a slight shiver. "What time is
it?"
"I don't know, herr; but the sun will soon be up. Look!"
He pointed overhead to where, grim-looking and grey, one of the
mountains towered up: and right away, at a great height, there was what
looked like a broad streak of pale--very pale--red, apparently a piece
of cloud just over the mountain top.
"What's that?"
"Snow, herr, beginning to be lit up by the sun. That is where we are
going by-and-by--the mountain with the enow on one side but bare rock on
the other."
Saxe stood gazing upward with a feeling of awe creeping over him. There
was no mistake about height here. The line of snow, which ended as
quickly as if it had been cut square at one end, seemed terribly far
away; and Saxe was thinking that it seemed almost madness to try and
reach such a spot, when Melchior drew his attention to first one and
then another flake of ruddy light in the distance.
"Clouds?" asked Saxe; though he felt what the answer would be.
"No," replied the guide--"mountain peaks. Will you awaken Mr Dale, or
shall I?"
"I am awake," said that personage. "Is there any water near here? Oh
yes, I remember. Well, Saxe, had your bath?"
Saxe looked confused, and said nothing.
"I asked you if you had had your bath, my lad," said Mr Dale, looking
at him wonderingly.
"Well, the fact is," stammered the boy, "there was no jug or basin, and
I--"
"Forgot it?" said Dale.
"Yes, I forgot it," replied the boy, with an effort; and as he spoke he
felt to himself that this was a touch of moral, though it was not
physical, cowardice, for he ought to have spoken out frankly.
"Well, I'm going to have mine. How long will the coffee be, Melchior?"
"Not a quarter of an hour, herr."
"Right. We'll soon be back," cried Dale; and a few minutes after he and
Saxe were having a good scrub about the neck and shoulders, and glowing
as if from an electric shock, so brisk and sharp was the water that came
tumbling down over the rocks in the middle of one of the clumps of pines
whose tops were freshened by the little cascade.
Back to the alfresco breakfast, which Dale ate with his back resting
against a block of stone nestling in a mass of whortleberry, and gazing
up at the mountain, while he and Melchior discussed the plan of their
ascent.
"Yes," said Dale, "you are right. We ought to take to the snow there,
cross to that arete, and--"
"What's an arete?" said Saxe, who was listening eagerly.
"That ridge along the summit of yonder spur or buttress," said Dale.
"That will bring us back to the main part of the mountain, and we ought
to reach the shoulder from there."
"No, herr," said the guide quietly; "the climbing would be too steep,
and there is a slope there which later on will be swept by loose stones.
Better take to the snow again, then work up it."
"But suppose it is in bad condition?"
"It will be shaded from the sun till the afternoon, and quite hard.
From there, you see, we can easily get to the shoulder, and then choose
our way up the last part by the rocks or the snow. You see that either
can be reached: that is plain enough from here."
"Yes, it looks easy," said Dale thoughtfully. "The rock for preference,
for I want to see the structure, and we may find specimens of what I am
seeking."
"Yonder will be most likely," said Melchior, pointing to a huge mass of
dark mountain a few miles away, part of which was now glowing in the
morning sun, whose bright rays made the ice and snow glitter on a score
of peaks.
"We'll, try that later on," said Dale. "Have you never been up it?"
"No, herr; but I have been on others, where little crystals have been
found in cracks; and they were mountains like that--very steep-sided,
and having little snow."
"There's plenty of time," said Dale, raising his glass to examine the
farther mountain attentively. "We'll try that by-and-by. Has it any
name?"
"The Black Nun, herr. That is the White Nun, on beyond it, to the
right."
"Yes, I'll keep to my original plan," said Dale, looking up once more to
the mountain at whose foot they sat, "and in half an hour we'll be off.
How many hours will it take us?"
"Eight or nine, herr. It depends on--"
He paused and looked at Saxe.
"To be sure, yes," said Dale thoughtfully. "I think," he continued, to
Saxe's great relief, "that, as this one is rather difficult and
dangerous--"
"It ought not to be dangerous, herr, if we are careful."
"Well, then, difficult," continued Dale--"you had better content
yourself, Saxe, by staying here in camp and watching us with the glass."
Saxe changed his position viciously.
"I wish you would not think me such a coward, sir," he said, with a
display of temper. "I am to learn to climb: why not let me begin now?"
As soon as he had spoken he repented; for he felt nervous about so steep
a climb, and he told himself that, by his hasty words and assumption of
eagerness, he had made his feelings clear to those who listened.
Dale looked at him searchingly, and Saxe coloured beneath his gaze.
"If it would be more satisfaction to you to come with us, do so by all
means. It will be hard and toilsome, but Melchior and I will take, care
of you."
"Oh, if they would not think me such a cowardly child!" thought Saxe.
Then, aloud--
"I should like to come, and I'll do the best I can to keep up with you."
"And if there is a bit of extra difficult climbing, why, you--you must
wait till we come back."
"Yes, I could do that," replied Saxe; and as soon as the breakfast was
ended a wallet was filled with food, a couple of bottles with water, and
Melchior took the rope, passed his head and right arm through it, and
looked at Dale as much as to say, "I am ready."
"Will these things be all right?" said the latter, taking an ice-axe
from where it hung up on a tree; and he pointed to the basket.
"There is no one here to touch them, herr."
"And the mule?"
"He will not wander far from the basket, herr. We shall find him close
at hand."
"Then, forward!" said Dale; and the little party began the ascent almost
directly, their way being back up the snow slope down which, on the
previous day, Saxe had made so rapid a descent; and it was only now that
the boy realised how far he had come.
"It will be easy coming back, herr," said Melchior, as they stopped for
a few minutes to rest, "and you must not lose your balance this time."
"Only a little out of breath," replied Saxe; but as he spoke he could
not help giving a glance up at the huge pile of granite, ice and snow
towering high above his head.
Dale laughed.
"Well, Saxe," he said, "are you beginning to find out how high the
mountains are?"
Saxe nodded.
"Yes," he said; "they deceive you at a distance. Is this the highest?"
Dale laughed again.
"Well," he replied, "it is not quite the smallest. Say the medium. On
again, Melchior!"
"Yes, herr: let's get as high as we can while the morning is young and
the snow hard. We can take our time on the rock."
The guide was following the custom that seems to have come natural to
man and beast--that of zigzagging up a steep place; but instead of
making for the centre of the col, where it was lowest, he kept bearing
to the left--that is, he made the track three times the length of that
to the right, and he drew on toward where the slope grew steeper and
steeper.
The snow was far better to walk upon now, for the surface was well
frozen, and they had only to plant their feet in the deep steps the
guide made by driving the soles of his heavily nailed boots well into
the crust.
"Take care! take care!" he kept on saying to Saxe, who was in the
middle. "There is no danger, but a slip would send you down, and you
could not stop till you were at the bottom."
"I'll mind," said Saxe, as he stole a glance now and then up at the
steep white slope above him, or at that beneath, beyond which the pines
among which they had slept the past night now looked like heather.
"Yes, it is all very big, Mr Dale," he said suddenly.
"Wait a bit. You don't half know yet. Say it's bigger than you
thought. Getting harder, isn't it, Melchior?"
"Yes, herr. If it gets much harder, I shall have to cut steps; but only
here and there, where it's steepest."
"Isn't it steepest now?" said Saxe, who felt as if he could touch the
surface by extending his right hand.
"Oh no, herr. You don't mind?"
"Not a bit," cried the lad: "I like it."
"What's the matter?" said Dale, as they still mounted the dazzling slope
of snow, far now above the dip of the col over which they had come.
"Bad piece here, sir. We'll have the rope. I'll fasten my end and hand
the rest to you, to secure yourselves while I begin cutting."
"Right!" replied Dale; and a minute later he caught the rings of hemp
thrown to him, and rapidly knotted the middle round Saxe, the end to his
own waist; and as he knotted, _click, click! chip, chip_! went the
ice-axe, deftly wielded by the guide, who with two or three blows broke
through enough of the crust to make a secure footing while the ice flew
splintering down the slope in miniature avalanches, with a peculiar
metallic tinkling sound.
"Will there be much to cut?" said Dale.
"No, herr; only a step here and there to make us quite safe,"--and he
chipped away again after a few steps, and broke in others with the toes
of his boots.
"I say," whispered Saxe, "suppose he slipped while he's swinging that
axe round, he'd drag us both down too."
"And by the same argument, if you or I slipped, we should snatch him
from his place."
"Yes; that's what I thought.
"That would only be in a very extreme case; and you may as well learn
your mountaineer's lesson at once. When we are roped together, and one
slips, he generally saves himself by rapidly sticking the sharp pick of
his axe into the snow. He gives the others ample warning by this that
something is wrong before the jerk and strain come upon the rope."
"And what do they do?"
"Drive their ice-picks right into the snow, hang back against the slope,
and tighten the rope from one to the other. So that generally, instead
of a fall, there is only a short slip. Do you understand!"
"Yes, I think so."
"So it is that three or four who understand mountaineering, and work
together and trust each other, go up and down places that would be
impassable to the unskilful. Hah! we are getting to the top of this
slope. Tut, tut! cutting again. Look out!"
The last two words were roared out; and chip, chip, there came close
upon one another the sound of two ice-picks being driven into the snow,
the guide's like an echo of Dale's, for his axe was raised to cut a
fresh step, but he changed the direction like lightning, drove it in
high up the slope, and held on forward, Dale backward.
For, in the most unexpected manner, one of Saxe's feet had slipped as he
stepped short, and down he went to lie helplessly a dozen feet from
where he had stood, hanging suspended from the two ends of the rope--
fortunately for him tight round the waists of his companions.
"Herr, herr!" shouted the guide reproachfully, as he looked back over
his shoulder, "where's your ice-axe?"
"Here," said Saxe dolefully, raising it a little, and vainly trying to
drive his toes through the hard crust, newly frozen in the night.
"`Here,' sir!" cried Melchior: "but it has no business to be `here.'
Strike! strike hard! and drive it into the snow."
Saxe raised it in both hands, and struck.
"No, no!" cried the guide; "take hold right at the end, and drive it in
as high up as you can reach. Hah! that's better. Now hand over hand.
It will hold. Pull yourself up as high as you can."
"That do?" said Saxe, panting, after obeying the orders and contriving
to get a couple of feet.
"Yes," said the guide, tightening the rope in company with Dale. "Now
then, again! A better one this time."
The boy struck the pick in again as hard as he could, and was more
successful. The rope was tightened to support him after he had climbed
higher; and after three or four minutes he stood once more in his old
place panting.
"Wait till he gets his breath, Melchior," said Dale. "There, boy, it
has been a splendid lesson for you, in a place where the worst that
could have happened to you was a sharp glissade and some skin off your
hands and face. That ice-axe ought to have been driven like lightning
into the snow, or the pick held towards it downward. It would have
ploughed in and anchored you."
"I'll try better next time," said Saxe. "I'm sorry I'm so stupid."
"The young herr did well," cried Melchior warmly. "Why, I have known
men hang from the rope helpless and afraid to stir at such a time.
Ready? Vorwarts!"
He started again, cutting a step here and there, but very few now; and a
quarter of an hour later a long path took them to where the smooth slope
gave place to piled-up masses of rock, which looked as if they had been
hurled down from above.
Then came a couple of hours' toilsome climb over broken stones, and up
masses that were mastered by sheer scrambling. Now and then an easy
rock slope presented itself, or a gully between two buttresses of the
mountain, as they won their way higher and higher. Only once was there
a really dangerous place--a mere ledge, such as they had passed along on
the previous day, but instead of a raging torrent beneath them there was
a wall of nearly perpendicular rock running down for about a thousand
feet to a great bed of snow.
But the distance was short, and Saxe stepped out bravely, perfectly
aware, though, that his companions were keeping the rope pretty tight
and watching his every step.
"Well done!" cried Melchior.
"Bravo, Saxe!" said Dale, as soon as they were safely across: "I see
your head is screwed on right. Forward!"
"But he don't know what a weak screw it is," thought Saxe. "Why, they
must have seen how white I was! I shall never dare to get back that
way."
Three or four awkward bits were circumvented; a couloir or gully full of
snow mounted; and then there was a long climb up a moderate slope toward
where a ridge of rocks stood out sharply, with snow sloping down on
either side, the ridge running up far into the mountain; but before they
could get to this a deep bed of old snow--"firn" Melchior called it--a
great sheet, like some large white field, had to be passed.
But this was mastered, and the climb began up towards the ridge.
"The herr remembers this?" Melchior said.
"No," said Saxe.
"Oh yes, you remember: that is the arete," said Dale.
"That? What! right up there?"
"Yes. Are you surprised?"
"Yes: I thought we had passed that, down below somewhere, hours ago."
"More faith in the size of the mountains," said Dale merrily. "Well,
Saxe, how do you feel now? Will you sit down and wait!"
"No," said the boy, through his set teeth, "I'm going right to the top."