"Then we must get back at once. But the mule?"
"We cannot move him, herr. It is impossible to do anything, and he must
stay. The water may not rise high enough to take him off his legs. If
it does he must go down with the stream and get out himself below
yonder. I would say stay, but if the water rises to our waists, we
should not be able to stand against the stream."
"Try the mule once more," said Dale. "We may get through."
The guide waded carefully back along the ledge-like path, and they could
dimly see him patting and coaxing the beast, but with no effect
whatever; and they stood there impatiently waiting till he returned to
them, but not before both Dale and Saxe were painfully aware that the
water was slowly creeping up toward their knees and the position growing
perilous.
"It is useless, herr," cried Melchior, as he rejoined them. "You will
lead back, sir; but wait a minute,--we will have the rope."
He took it from his shoulder and rapidly passed one end to Dale, who
knotted it about his waist, while the middle was once more tied round
Saxe, and finally the other end to the guide, who then made a sign, and
Dale began to retrace his steps toward the lower mouth of the gorge.
Even in that little time the difference in the level of the water was
very evident; and as Saxe waded along, with the stream rushing by him
and seeming to give him quite a series of pushes, he could not help an
excited feeling of dread filling his breast, and he wondered whether he
should get out of the place alive if some sudden rush of water came down
in a wave and swept them off the ledge.
It was slow work for a few minutes, till the path rose once more, and
then they progressed pretty quickly till the shelf ran down again; and
as Saxe went on through the gloom, feeling that the rope was kept fairly
taut, another sharp bend was turned, and they came in view of the facing
wall of rock, against which the stream rushed and rose up now in such a
body that Melchior raised his voice loudly:
"Stop, herr!" he cried: "don't try to pass."
"No," said Dale, as Saxe and the guide closed up, "the water has
increased there terribly. We should be swept away."
"Then we're shut in!" cried Saxe.
"Yes, herr; but only for a time. The waters rise quickly and fall as
quickly in the schluchts. Let's get back to the highest part, where we
can be dry. If we could only have reached farther on!"
He said no more, for it was hard work to make the voice heard in the
midst of this terrific reverberating war of the fierce waters, but he
turned and led the way back round the corner they had so lately passed,
to where the ledge was fully four feet above the stream.
Here he calmly seated himself on the damp stone, with his legs hanging
down toward the dark rushing water, took out and filled his great pipe,
and then looked up at his companions, as if inviting them to be seated
too.
There was but little temptation to follow his example, and sit down on
the humid rock; but it offered rest, poor as it was, and Saxe and Dale
both followed the example set them, while Melchior calmly lit his pipe
and began to smoke and wait patiently for the water to go down.
But Saxe's nature was too impatient for this, and before he had been
seated there many minutes he began to strain his neck in looking up to
right and left.
Melchior leaned over to him and shouted in his ear, he having divined
the boy's thoughts from his actions.
"No, herr, no--not here. There is one place where, with a hammer and
plenty of iron spikes to drive in the cracks of the rock, we might
perhaps get to the top; but it would be impossible without. We should
want ten times as much rope too."
"Is the water going down now?" shouted back Saxe, after a pause.
Melchior looked down and shook his head.
"Will it come with a sudden rush, like a river?"
"Oh no. It may rise very quickly, but not all at once. Of course it
all comes from the lake, and the waters of the lake swell from hundreds
of streams and falls. No, herr, it will not come down with a rush."
"But it is rising very fast," said Dale, who had caught part of their
conversation. "Are we on the highest part that we can reach!"
"Yes, herr; and I am sorry I have brought you in. I try to be a perfect
guide, but there is no such thing. I ought to have been prepared for
another rise after the storm we had. Forgive me."
"You think, then, that the water will come up above where we are
sitting."
The guide nodded, and pointed to a dimly-seen mark upon the wall, quite
level with their heads.
"Then we must find some other ledge upon which we can stand," cried
Dale, rising to his feet.
Melchior shook his head. "There is none," he said.
"You have not looked."
"Herr, I searched the wall with my eyes as we went and returned. A
guide studies the places he passes, and learns them by heart, so that
they may be useful at some time, should he want them. Look above you:
the wall hangs over all the way. Nothing but a fly could stand anywhere
along here."
It was undeniable, as Dale could see; and he leaned back against the
rock and folded his arms, gazing down sternly at the rising water, till
the guide spoke again, as he finished his pipe, knocked out the ashes,
and replaced it in his breast.
"It would be wise to take off the rope," he said quietly.
"Why?" cried Saxe excitedly.
"Because, if we are swept down with the stream, it would be in our way--
perhaps catch in some rock below, or tangle round our legs and arms."
"You feel, then," cried Dale, "that there is no hope of the waters going
down, and that we shall soon have a chance to get through?"
Saxe, whose brain had been full of horrors suggested by the guide's last
words--words which had called up visions of unfortunate people vainly
struggling to reach the surface beyond the reach of the strangling
water, but held down by that terrible rope--now sat listening eagerly
for Melchior's next utterance, as the man began deliberately unfastening
the rope.
"I can say nothing for certain, herr," he replied. "We are in the hands
of the great God, whose children we are, and we must be patient and
wait. I hope we shall get out safely,--perhaps I think we shall--but it
is our duty to be ready. The young herr swims, I know, and so do you,
herr; but if we have to make for the lower end of the schlucht, try and
remember this: Don't struggle to get to the surface, for it is waste of
strength. You cannot swim properly in this water, for all torrents are
full of bubbles of air, and these do not bear one up like still water.
What you must do is, to get a fresh breath now and then, and let the
stream carry you along."
Saxe looked horrified, and the guide interpreted his thoughts.
"You will easily do it. The stream is swifter now than when I went
through, and I had all the distance to journey. You will only have
half. It looks very horrible, but after the first plunge you do not
mind. Now, herr, let me untie you."
He turned to Saxe, who submitted to the operation without a word, and
then watched the guide as he carefully laid up the rope in rings upon
his left arm. Meanwhile, Dale had unfastened his end, and stood waiting
to hand it to the guide, who secured it round the coil before hanging it
across his breast.
He then carefully examined the level of the water by bending downward
and noting where it now ran against a crack in the rock.
"Sinking?" cried Saxe eagerly.
"Rising," replied the guide laconically.
Then there was a long silence, during which Saxe, as if doubting that
the guide was right, carefully examined the walls of the chasm, but
always with the same result: he could see rifts and places in plenty
where he could have climbed high enough to be beyond reach of the water
even if it rose thirty or forty feet; but they were all on the other
side, which was slightly convex, while their side, as the guide had
pointed out, was concave, and would have matched exactly if the sides
had been driven together.
"No, herr," said Melchior quietly, "I should not have stopped so still
if there had been a chance to get away. I should like to say one thing
more about the water rising: if we are swept down, try both of you not
to cling to each other or me for help. One is quite useless at such a
time, and we should only exhaust each other."
Dale nodded, and Saxe felt as if one prop which held him to existence
had been suddenly struck away.
There was another dreary pause, during which they listened to the
waters' roar; and Melchior bent down again, and rose to his feet once
more, with his brow rugged.
"Rising," he said hoarsely; and then he leaned back against the rock
with his arms crossed and his eyes half-closed, silent as his
companions, for talking was painfully laborious at such a time.
An hour must have passed, and every time Melchior bent down he rose with
the same stern look upon his countenance, the darkness making it
heavier-looking and more weird. Both Saxe and Dale could see the
difference plainly now, for it must have been a foot higher at least,
and they knew it was only a matter of time before it would reach their
feet.
And as Saxe stood there, miserably dejected, he began thinking and
picturing to himself the snow melting and trickling down thousands of
tiny cracks which netted the tops of the mountains, and then joined
together in greater veins, and these again in greater, till they formed
rushing streams, and lastly rivers, which thundered into the lake.
Then he began thinking of his school-days, and then of his life at home,
and the intense delight he had felt at the prospect of coming out to the
Alps with Dale, the pleasures he had anticipated, and how lightly he had
treated all allusions to danger.
"I'll be careful," he had said: "I can take care of myself." And as he
recalled all this, he dolefully asked himself how he could be careful at
a time like this.
He was in the midst of these musings when Melchior bent down again, and
rose once more so quickly, that Dale shouted to him.
"Rising? Shall we jump in and swim for it at once."
"No, herr; we must wait."
"Ah! look--look!" cried Saxe, pointing downward.
"Yes, yes: what?" cried the others in a breath.
"The poor mule--the poor mule!"
"What?"
"I saw it roll over. Its leg came out, and then I saw its back for a
moment, and it was gone."
"Poor old Gros!" cried Melchior; and he hurried along the shelf as far
as he could go, and knelt down.
He soon returned, looking very sad.
"I just caught a glint of its back in the water, and it was gone. Poor
beast!" he said; "he did not seem to be struggling. I'm afraid he is
gone."
This was a bad omen, and Dale looked very hard, and then Melchior once
more went down on his knees and peered into the stream, to measure it
with his eyes.
"Hah!" he exclaimed, as he got up and began to fumble for his pipe and
matches.
"Risen much?" Dale's eyes said, as he turned them upon the guide.
"No, herr. Heaven be praised! The water is down a hand's breadth since
I looked last. It is falling fast."
Dale turned sharply round and caught Saxe's hand, wringing it so hard
that he gave him pain. Then, extending his hand to Melchior, the guide
took it and held it for a few moments in silence.
"Yes, herr," he said cheerily; then, "I dare say we shall be through in
an hour. The waters flow swiftly, and once the flood is passed the lake
soon gets down again. But I'm sorry poor old Gros is gone."
"I will pay Andregg handsomely for his loss," said Dale quickly; but the
guide shook his head.
"No money will pay for the loss of old friends, herr. Gros has been
looked upon as a companion by Andregg for these many years. It will be
a bitter thing to go and say he is dead."
He was silent for a few minutes. Then, raising his voice, he said
loudly:
"It seems strange to you English gentlemen; but you come from great
cities where people are many, and you can hardly count your friends.
Out here in the deep thals, where men are shut up by the snow for weeks
together, with only their cows and mules and goats, they grow to look
upon the animals about them as friends, just as the poor animals
themselves look to their masters for their care, and run to them for
help and shelter when the great storms come down. Why, herr, you have
seen they live in part of the house. The chalet is built up with a warm
shelter beneath for the little flock or herd. Poor Gros! Andregg will
nearly break his heart; and," added the guide simply, "he will not even
have the consolation of saving the skin."
This last notion, in the reaction he felt, sounded so droll to Saxe that
he turned away his head for fear the guide should see him smile.
But Melchior saw nothing; and stooping down again, he rose.
"Going down very fast, herr. In another hour I think we may venture to
start again."
The torrent tore along so furiously that in the time specified the
little party made a start, and then paused again as they reached the
place where the ledge descended into the water. For the stream rushed
along heavily as Melchior began to wade; and he once more uncoiled and
passed the rope.
"It is heavy going," he shouted; "but every minute it will be better,
for after a little while the path rises quite high."
They started again, and Saxe felt his heart beat heavily as the water
rose to his knees and he could feel its soft strong push against him;
but he forgot all this the next moment, on hearing Melchior give vent to
his feelings in a long, loud jodel, which sounded strange enough in the
awful rift, with an accompaniment of the noise of rushing waters, but
not half so strange as the curious whinnying half-squeal, half-neigh,
that came back from a little way ahead.
For there, dimly-seen, was the mule, standing just as they had left him;
and as they approached he signified his joy by a very near approach to a
bray.
"And you said you saw him swept by!" cried Dale.
"I saw a leg and a bit of back," said Melchior; "but it might have
belonged to any poor drowned beast swept out of the lake. Why, Gros!
old Gros!" he cried, wading up to the mule, "this is the grandest sight
I've had these many days!" while the mule literally squealed and
stamped, sending the water flying in its delight at hearing human voices
again.
But a good hour passed before the cautious animal--as if assured by its
own instinct that the way was safe--began to advance, and in a short
time was upon the clear ledge, trudging steadily along, Melchior
following with his load, till the bright daylight was seen ahead, and
they came to a halt on the platform whence Gros had fallen and dragged
in his leader.
The rest of the journey was easily performed, Gros bearing his lightened
load on along the edge of the lake, and past the place where Dale had
searched for gold, till the vale at the foot of the great glacier was
neared, when the mule set up a loud squealing, which was answered by the
donkey's bray and a lowing from the cows.
Then Melchior jodelled, and it was responded to from the chalet, where
Andregg, his wife, and Pierre were standing watching, and ready to
prepare a comfortable meal and usher Gros into the shelter in the lower
part of the place.
In another hour Saxe was lying upon his bed of sweet-scented hay half
asleep, thinking of all he had gone through since he last lay there, and
ready to ask himself whether it was not all a dream. Then suddenly
consciousness failed, and he was really in the land of dreams.