"Do we go the same way?" said Saxe, as they started up the track out of
the valley, Gros far more heavily laden this time--having, beside food
enough for some days, a handy tent just large enough to shelter three;
waterproof sheet, rugs, ice-axes, and a coil of new English rope which
made the guide's eyes glisten.
"No, herr," Melchior answered--"only for a short distance. Then we
shall strike up to the east and go over the Carvas Pass into the Urs
Thal."
"Urseren?" said Dale quickly.
"Oh no, herr! not a bleak green hollow like that, but a wild ravine in
the heart of the mountain. It lies next but one to the valley beyond
the peak you climbed."
"Ah! that sounds better. Is it much visited?"
"Never, herr, except by the chamois hunters, and very seldom by them."
"And you think we shall find what I want there?"
"I cannot say, herr. Such crystals as you seek are not often
discovered. They are very rare. But we shall see. Steady, Gros,
steady! Don't hurry, boy. Slow and sure: these stones are slippery."
"Slippery! Yes," cried Dale, stepping forward quickly, and then giving
a glance up to right and left at the walls of rock rising on either
side. "Look at this, Saxe: we must not pass things like these without
notice. Wait a minute, Melchior."
"Yes, herr; but there are bigger and smoother pieces farther up the
valley."
"Do they extend far?"
"Right up to the top of the pass, herr, and down the other side."
Saxe looked over at the huge mass of smoothly polished stone across
which the mule had been picking its way, taking longer steps to get its
hoofs on the narrow cracks and places where veins of a softer kind of
rock had in the course of ages corroded away.
"Why, I thought you said that very few people came along here?" said
Saxe suddenly, as Dale bent down here and there to examine the stone.
"I did, herr. Nobody uses this pass. There is no need. It is very
difficult, and leads away up to the everlasting snow."
"Then, Melchior, how is it that the stones are worn so much?"
The guide shook his head.
"It is as if a river had run along here," he said. "I suppose it is the
rain that has slowly worn it so."
"No," said Dale, with the voice of authority, "it is the ice."
"No, herr; there is no ice here. A great deal of snow comes down from
the great stock up yonder, and from the valley between Piz Accio and Piz
Nero, here on the right--avalanches of snow. We could not walk along
here in March; it would be madness. But it soon wastes, and is washed
away."
"No, Melchior, it is not snow or water that has smoothed all this, but
ice. There must have been a huge glacier all along here."
The guide shook his head.
"Look, man," cried Dale, "it is written on the stones;" and he pointed
to those beneath them, and then to others high up, which presented the
same appearance.
"The stones and rocks are worn smooth, herr; but I never heard my father
or grandfather speak of ice in this valley."
"No," said Dale quietly, "and your grandfather never heard his ancestors
speak of it, nor they in turn, right back to the most remote times of
history; but, all the same, a huge glacier must have filled the whole of
this valley, sixty or seventy feet above where we stand."
"A very long time ago, then, herr."
"Who can say how many ages? Glaciers shrink and melt away in time. The
one in the other valley has retired a good deal."
"Ah, yes, herr--hundreds of yards. Old people say it once came nearly
to Andregg's chalet."
"To be sure; and how do the rocks look where it has retired?"
"Rubbed smooth, like this, herr."
"Of course; and there is no denying this fact. It must have been a
mighty glacier indeed."
They went after the mule up the valley, content to follow the animal's
guidance; and invariably, as Melchior pointed out, Gros picked out the
best path. As they went right on the valley contracted, and the sides,
which towered up more and more perpendicularly, displayed the peculiar,
smooth, polished look, just as if masses of stone had constantly ground
against their sides.
"Now, Saxe, look here," cried Dale, suddenly pausing by a great mass of
grey stone. "Here is a proof that I am right."
"Is it? I don't see."
"Do you, Melchior?"
"No, herr. The stone is very big."
"Yes. How did it come here?"
"Oh, it must have rolled down from the rock up yonder."
"If it had rolled down from the rock up yonder, it would have been a
piece of that rock!"
"Of course, herr. Here are plenty of pieces," and he touched them with
the handle of his ice-axe.
"Yes, you are right," said Dale, picking up a great fragment; "and you
can see this is the same kind of stone as that which towers up here over
our heads."
"Yes, herr."
"But this great block is a different kind of stone, is it not!"
Melchior looked at the vast mass, and said at once:
"Yes, herr, of course. It is the grey hard stone that they use for
building bridges."
"Well, where did it come from! There is none up here to right or left."
"No, herr--none."
"It could not have been brought here by man."
Melchior laughed.
"No; a hundred horses could not have dragged it along a hard road."
"But it has been brought here, you see, all the same. Now, where is the
nearest place where we could find stone like that!"
"Oh, on the Domberg, herr, at the head of the pass. We shall go beneath
it six hours from here."
"Exactly, Melchior," cried Dale. "That proves what I say. This huge
mass of granite must have fallen from the Domberg on to the glacier
which once filled this limestone valley, and have been gradually carried
down and left here. Such a glacier as the one which polished all these
rocks could easily have brought down that block; and when in bygone ages
the ice melted, this block was left here. I dare say we shall find more
like it."
"Oh yes, herr, there are many," said Melchior, thoughtfully examining
the stone and then picking up other pieces to compare with it. "The
herr's words seem like truth, but I should never have thought of that."
"It took, too, long thought and study of some of our greatest men to
find it out," said Dale, "and I am glad to have come to a valley which
shows all we have read so plainly."
"Stop! take care!" shouted Melchior, as a strange rushing sound was
heard high up on their right; and directly after a large stone came
bounding down the slope, fell on the smooth rocks before them, and
smashed to atoms.
Melchior stood looking up, shading his eyes.
"That is curious," he said thoughtfully. "I do not know why that stone
should have fallen."
"Loosened by the frost, man."
"No, herr. It could not have come from high enough. There is no ice up
there. You have to pass another valley first. The high mountain is
beyond it, and the stones would fall into the next valley."
"It must have been loosened, then, by the rain."
"Perhaps, herr; but it is more likely that a goat--No, there are no
goats pastured so far up as this, and no man could be travelling up
there. Herr, would you like to shoot a chamois?"
"Indeed I should; but we have no gun."
"No, herr, I forgot: we have no gun. But that must have been a chamois.
We are getting into the wild region where they live, though this is low
down for them."
"But surely," said Dale, "they would get no pasture higher up?"
"Only in patches, herr. They have been so persecuted by the hunters
that they live constantly amongst the ice and snow and in the most
solitary spots. But I cannot understand about that stone falling."
"Well, it doesn't matter," said Saxe. "It did not hit either of us, and
you said they often fell in the mountains."
"Yes herr, but not like that."
They went on for the next two hours in silence, while the pass they were
following grew more and more wild, but it opened out a little during the
next hour, but only to contract again. And here, in a secluded place
beneath one of the vast walls of rock which shut them in, and beside a
tiny rivulet which came bubbling and foaming down, the guide suggested a
short halt and refreshment.
Dale agreed, and Saxe doubly agreed, helping to lift the pannier from
the mule's back, when the patient animal indulged in a roll, drank a
little water, and then began to browse on such tender shoots and herbage
as it could find.
The bread and cheese were produced, and all were seated enjoying their
alfresco meal, when once more from up to their right a stone as big as a
man's head came crashing down, to fall not far away. So near was it
that it startled the mule, who trotted a little on out of danger before
beginning again to graze.
Melchior had sprung to his feet at once, leaped away for a short
distance, and stood shading his eyes again, and scanning the rocky face
of the precipice on their right--that is, just above their heads.
"Well, what do you make of it?" cried Dale,--"a landslip?"
"No, herr; there is no landslip."
"Is it the advance-guard of an avalanche?"
"Without snow, herr? No."
"Come and eat your bread and cheese, Melk," cried Saxe; "it is only a
loose stone tumbled down, and no one was hit."
"But I cannot eat, herr, with the knowledge that some one is hurling
down stones upon our heads. Do you know that either of those falling
stones would have killed us?"
"Yes, but they did not hit us," said Saxe.
"But surely there is no one up there to hurl down stones?" said Dale.
"I don't know, herr," said the guide, shaking his head.
"But you said you thought it was a chamois," cried Saxe.
"I did, herr, but I'm afraid I was wrong. I am not a believer in such
things; but some of our people would say that the spirits of the
mountains are displeased with us for coming here, and are throwing
stones to drive us back."
"They're pretty strong, then, to throw such stones as that," said Saxe,
with his mouth full of Swiss cheese.
"Yes," said Dale, looking at the stone which had fallen; "and they take
very bad aim--eh, Saxe?"
"Awfully: I could do better than that. Why, if I were up there I
believe I could hit either of you."
"But it might be only to frighten us," said Melchior seriously.
"Why, Melchior, my man, surely you do not believe in such childish
nonsense as that?"
"No, herr, not when I have English gentlemen with me; but there are
times on the mountains, when I am quite alone and I hear noises that I
cannot understand, that I do get fancying strange things, and all the
old stories I have heard as a boy come back to me."
"And then you say to yourself, `I am a man who puts his trust in reason,
and shall not let myself be scared by silly tales.'"
"Well, yes, herr, something of the kind," replied the guide, smiling.
"There goes another stone!" cried Saxe, as a smaller one fell about
fifty yards farther on.
"Yes," said the guide; "and it is as if somebody were climbing along
there, near the edge of the rocks, and sent them down."
"Ah! that's more like an explanation," cried Dale, laughing. "Somebody.
Yes, you must be right. Somebody with feet and hands, like ourselves.
Can you see who it is?"
"No, herr," said Melchior, after a long examination; "and it puzzles me,
for who could be climbing along up there?"