"Ten minutes' rest, herr," said the guide.
"And lunch?"
"No, herr--only for a pipe;" and Melchior drew out his big tobacco
holder and filled up, while Dale took out a cigar. "Here's a sheltered
place to get a light," continued the guide, leading the way to a niche
in the rocks and striking a match.
"Well," said Dale, "what do you think? Will he do it?"
"Shall I speak the truth, herr?" said the guide, puffing quietly away.
"Of course."
"He's horribly frightened, herr; but he would sooner die than show it."
"Exactly: you are right. Will he hold out?"
"That he will, if he is a long time doing it."
"Will you stand by me, Melchior?"
"Of course, herr. I am your servant, and I am more: we are all brothers
in the mountains, ready to stand by each other to the end."
"Then, if he has the pluck that every English boy should have--the pluck
that English boys always have had--he shall go right to the top, even if
we have to sleep somewhere half-way down."
"If we can get him to the top, herr," said Melchior, laughing in his
quiet, grave way, "never mind about the coming down. Bless him! I'll
carry him down what you English call pig-a-back, if he's worn out."
"Then we'll take him. Is it a very stiff climb higher--dangerous?"
The guide shrugged his shoulders.
"The herr is a mountaineer, and sees as much as I do. I have never been
up here, but the mountains are much alike on the whole. I think we can
do it."
"Yes, alone: but with that lad?"
"Well, herr, if we come to a very dangerous bit I should say give it up
for his sake. But we shall see."
They stood smoking and looking about at the different parts above them,
marking out the way they would go when they had mastered the arete, and
then returned to Saxe, who was lying down in the sunshine resting.
"Well. Saxe: ten minutes nearly up. Will you stop or go on?"
Saxe looked rather pale, but he laughed.
"Wait here, getting cold?"
"No! there will be plenty of sunshine."
"Yes, but--wait here hours while you two go up to the top and sit down,
see the view and eat all the lunch. No; I'm coming with you."
"Right: you shall. Ready, Melchior!"
"Yes, herr. I think we'll have the rope again: I can give you both a
bit of a haul sometimes."
"He means me only," thought Saxe, "and I won't let him."
"Now, gentlemen!" the guide went on, as he stood shading his eyes, "that
snow's pretty firm, I think, and will not slip. We ought to master the
arete in an hour."
"An hour to do that little bit!" thought Saxe, as he looked up; but he
did not utter his thoughts; he was really beginning to understand that
dots meant big rocks, and snow patches that seemed the size of the hand
great beds.
"Vorwarts!" cried Melchior; and he began to climb with the activity of a
monkey, getting up to the extent of the rope, and then seating himself
and drawing it in as Saxe followed him and fully grasped now that it was
like getting up the sloping ridge of some mighty roof all in vast ruins.
For the rocks rose out of the snow which fell away steeply on either
side--how far the curve prevented him from seeing; but once, when he
took hold of a great projecting piece of rock about double the size of
his head, it came away and went rolling down the slope to his right,
carrying more and more snow with it, till all disappeared with a curious
hissing rush, which was followed many seconds later by a low
reverberating roar.
"I ought to have tried that stone," said the guide quietly. "That's
right, herr: steady. Shall I pull?"
"No, no!" pleaded Saxe.
"Good! That block--now this. Well done! Get behind me and sit down
and rest."
Saxe felt disposed to refuse; but he took his place, and in a minute or
two Dale was up by them, and the guide went on again, repeating the slow
cautious process.
It was necessary, for the way up grew steeper and some of the rocks
looser and far larger than that which Saxe had started, gave way at the
first touch of the guide, and had to be turned off sideways to prevent
mischief to those who followed.
As they rose higher the slope down on either hand seemed more appalling;
and once, as Saxe climbed to him, Melchior said, with a smile--
"Never mind the two snow slopes, herr."
"I don't--much," panted Saxe.
"Don't look at them, and don't think of them at all. Think of what you
are doing. There is plenty of room for us, good foothold, and nothing
to mind. That's the way: hook on firmly with your ice-axe. It is
better than a hand."
Over and over was this slow process repeated up and up that arete--the
little serrated blocks they had seen from below proving mighty masses
worn by frost and sunshine till in places they were quite sharp. But,
as Melchior said, they gave excellent foothold; and at last the snow
above them, a great bed surrounded by rock, was gained, and they all sat
down to rest while Dale drew out his watch.
"An hour and five minutes, Melchior," he said. "And good work, sir.
That was a very stiff climb. What are you thinking, young herr?"
"Of how terribly steep the mountain seems from up here," replied Saxe,
who was holding by a piece of granite and gazing down.
"No more steep than it was coming up, lad," cried Dale. "Now, Melchior!
what next?"
"Right across this snow, sir. It is perfectly safe; and then we can
take the slope above there, and we are on the shoulder. Then, as we
arranged, we'll take to the rock or the snow again, whichever seems
best."
"Ready, Saxe?"
"Yes," said the boy shortly; and for the next hour they tramped over
snow like hailstones, and then zigzagged up a slope beyond it, where in
the steepest places a little cutting became necessary; but this was all
mastered in time, and the shoulder was reached, from which half a mile
away the final peak arose--a blunt hillock with perfectly smooth snow on
one side, bare rock, broken and rugged, on the other, while the snow at
the top seemed to have been cut clean off perpendicularly.
Half an hour's rugged walk brought them to a point where they had to
decide whether to turn north and climb the snow, or south and take to
the bare steep rock.
"What do you say, Melchior?" said Dale, giving the guide a meaning look
at the same time.
"The snow is too steep, and it looks dangerous there. It is now well on
in the afternoon, and our weight might start it; and if it did--you
know."
"What!" said Saxe excitedly. Dale was silent for a few moments.
"I do not want to scare you, lad, but you have to learn these things.
If we started the snow at that angle, it would all go down with a rush
into the nearest valley."
"And what would become of us!"
Neither of the men answered; but Saxe knew.
"That is going to be a stiff climb, Melchior," said Dale, after a few
minutes' searching the place with his eyes.
"I dare say it will be, sir," replied the guide. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
They started again, taking to the rocky face where the steepness kept
the snow from hanging. The sun was now shining full upon them, adding
its heat to that produced by the exertion. The advance was slow and
tentative for some time, resulting in several failures; and so painfully
steep had the place become that Dale twice, to Saxe's great relief,
suggested that it would be better to give it up, and the guide seemed to
be unwillingly about to agree, when all at once a narrow rift opened out
before them.
"We're at the top, herr," he cried joyfully; and, stepping out, he
stopped in the furrow carved in the mountain's side, and prepared to
climb.
"Can you get up there?" said Saxe, wiping his streaming face and gazing
skyward.
"Yes, herr, and you can too. Once up there, the rest will be easy."
Dale looked doubtful, but he said nothing--only stood watching while
Melchior crept right into the narrowest part and began to ascend, taking
advantage of every crack and prominence, rising higher and higher
without a moment's hesitation, though so narrow was their
standing-place, that unless Dale and Saxe could stop him in case of a
slip, the unfortunate man would glance off and shoot into space.
Melchior was still climbing on when this idea struck Dale, who turned
sharply to his young companion.
"Why are you staring down there!" he said, as he noticed that Saxe had
turned from watching the guide and was looking down the tremendous
series of precipices stretching step-like from where he stood to the
valley southward.
"I was thinking how deep it is."
"Think of how far it is to the top, and let the rest take care of
itself. Here," he whispered, "stand close in with me. If he slips we
must stop him somehow. Well," he cried aloud, "can you manage it?"
"Oh yes, herr; and so will you," cried Melchior. "It is not so very
hard. This rift seems as if made on purpose."
The task looked very laborious all the same. But the man's climbing
skill was wonderful; nothing seemed to daunt him, and at the end of a
few minutes there came a triumphant jodel from the invisible spot to
which he had made his way.
Directly after the rope fell in rings from above.
"Let the young herr fasten it round him before he begins to climb,"
cried Melchior; and he was obeyed.
"You will never climb that, Saxe," said Dale. "It was a hard task for
him."
"But I must try," said the boy huskily; and he started at once,
desperately and in haste.
"Bravo! one does not know what one can do till one tries," cried Dale.
For with the rope always kept taut to help him and give him confidence,
Saxe climbed on, his nerves in such a state of exaltation that he forgot
how dizzy it had made him feel to see Melchior mount, but at the same
time remembered almost exactly how he had planted his feet in the
critical places.
This went on till he was three parts of the way up, where a projecting
rock overhead had to be passed; and the boy now felt, as he rested for a
few moments, that if he slipped there or failed to cling sufficiently
tightly, he must fall to the broad shelf where Dale was standing, and
rebound into the awful depths below.
In fancy he saw himself bounding from place to place, always gathering
speed, till he lay a shapeless mass among the stones of the valley; and,
in spite of himself, he turned his head and looked down.
The view was so appalling, as he clung there, that a low hoarse sigh
escaped him; his nerves tingled; a curious sensation ran up his spine,
and as he wrenched his head away from the sight which fascinated him, he
closed his eyes.
A tug at the rope roused him, and brought him back to himself, just as
Dale was pressing forward into the gash in the rock, ready to seize him
as he fell.
"Come, herr," Melchior shouted, from his invisible resting-place. "Are
you at that bit of sticking-out rock? Come along: it's very easy."
Saxe raised his arms, which had felt nerveless the moment before, took a
fresh hold, and began to climb desperately. The first movements were
horrible, and he felt the creeping sensation of horror once more, and
stopped, clinging hard, thinking that he could do no more; but the rope
was against his face, and as it vibrated he knew that even if he slipped
it would hold him, and the cold, dank sensation passed away again as he
got a good foothold and was helped by the strain on the rope; and just
while he was saying to himself, "I shall never do it--I shall never do
it!" a great hand seized the rope round his chest, and he was drawn
right on to a rocky platform, where Melchior was seated with his legs
widely apart, and his heels against two projecting corners.
"Well done, herr!" cried the guide, laughing, as he proceeded to untie
the rope: "you and I will do some of the big peaks yet."
Saxe said nothing, but seated himself twenty feet farther up the rock,
with his heels planted in the same way as the guide's, and letting the
rope pass through his hands as it was gathered into rings.
"Ready, herr!" shouted Melchior.
"Yes," came from below; and the rope was thrown over the edge.
"Make it fast round your waist, herr," cried Melchior; and then, turning
to Saxe, he said, with a smile meant to inspire confidence, "We can pull
him up if he likes."
"Now!" came from below.
"Ready," shouted the guide; and then to Saxe--"Pull as I pull, herr,
steady and strong, always keeping a tight grip, in case of a slip. It
gives him confidence."
Saxe nodded; the rope was kept tight, and drawn in foot by foot, till,
just as the lad was thinking of what a tremendous jerk it would be if
Dale slipped, the latter's head appeared above the rock, with his
ice-axe projecting over his shoulder, it having worked up in the
climbing till it threatened to escape from the belt and fall.
"Take a good grip of the rope with one hand, herr," said Melchior
quietly: "we have you. Now get hold of your ice-axe and push it on
before you."
Dale obeyed without a word, as mountaineers do follow out the
instructions one gives to another without question; and this done, he
finished the climb and stood up.
"Rather a bad bit," he said; "that projecting rock was awkward."
"Yes, herr, it teased me a little," replied Melchior quietly, "but I
found good hold for my feet. What do you think of it now?"
"Why, there's no more to do but walk quietly up this slope."
"And in ten minutes we shall stand on the snow at the very top."
Saxe drew a long breath full of relief as he looked behind him; and,
gathering up the rope, Melchior trudged on ahead, picking the best path
among the weathered and splintered rocks, till in a short time he
climbed up over the last slope, dug his ice-axe in the thick stratum of
snow, which began suddenly and sloped down toward the north, and uttered
a loud jodel.
The others joined him directly, a peculiar sensation of nervousness
still affecting Saxe, though the place was perfectly safe, and he could
have run some distance in any direction without risk of a fall.
"Grand!" cried Dale, as he looked round. "What a view! and how strange
that we should be able to stand here on the dividing line one foot on
snow, one on rock. Well, Saxe, I congratulate you on your first ascent.
You have done wonders."
"Have I?" said the boy nervously.
"Yes, wonders, herr. Bravo! Bravo!"
"Have I?" said Saxe faintly, as to himself he thought, "Oh, if they only
knew!"
"Yes, my boy; but what's the matter?"
"I--I don't know," he panted; "I--I feel as if I had overdone it, and
broken something."
"Eh? What? Where?" cried Dale, anxiously catching him by the arm.
"Here," said Saxe, striking his chest: "I can't breathe enough; it comes
short, like that."
The others burst out laughing; and Saxe stared at them angrily: it
seemed so unfeeling.
"Sit down, boy. Come, Melchior, lunch or dinner. We've got to descend.
Why, Saxe lad, where's your school teaching?"
"My teaching?"
"Yes. Don't you know you are about eleven or twelve thousand feet above
sea-level?"
"I know we are terribly high."
"Yes, and the air is so thin and rarefied that breathing is hard work.
That's nothing. Now for a good rest and refresh. We must not stay up
here very long."
"No, herr," said the guide, spreading the contents of the wallet on the
rocks in the sunshine. "The weather changes quickly up these mountains.
Look! yonder the mists are gathering already."
He pointed to the clouds hanging round the nearest peak, as they sat
down and ate with mountaineers' appetites, till, just as they were
ending, Melchior rose--rather excitedly for him.
"Look!" he said, pointing: "you do not often see that."
He pointed to where the landscape, with its peaks and vales, was blotted
out by a peculiar-looking sunlit haze, in which were curious, misty,
luminous bodies; and as they looked, there, each moment growing more
distinct, were three gigantic human figures, whose aspect, in his highly
strained state, seemed awful to one of the lookers-on.
"Change of weather, Melchior," said Dale.
"Perhaps, herr; but I think we shall have plenty of time to get down
first."
"What is it?" said Saxe, whose eyes were fixed upon the strange
apparition.
"Only our reflections on the face of that mist," said Dale. "Lift up
your alpenstock and wave it."
Saxe did so, and the central giant did the same.
"Both hands."
This was imitated, and every other movement, in a weird fashion that was
impressive as it was startling.
"It is only one of Nature's own looking-glasses," said Dale laughingly.
"But there are some of our people who look upon it as a warning," said
the guide gravely. "They say it signifies that those who see it will
soon die in the mountains."
Saxe turned pale. He was in such an exalted condition, mentally as well
as bodily, that the slightest thing threatened to upset him; and at the
guide's words a profound sensation of horror attacked him, making him
feel utterly unnerved:
"They had all those dreadful places to descend."