Chapter 6. A Try For Gold

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER SIX. A TRY FOR GOLD

Strange places bring strange dreams, and often some hours of complete oblivion. Saxe began to dream with all his might. Body and Brain had been having the thorough rest which comes to those who have been walking far in the glorious mountain air; but toward morning Brain woke up and began to act on its own account, while Body lay asleep; and when Brain does this without the balance given by Body, its workings are rather wild.

In this case it began to repeat the adventures of the day before, but in a curiously bizarre manner; and in consequence Saxe found himself being disappointed in the heights of the mountains, which were exceedingly small--mere anthills covered with snow, up which he began to climb so as to stand on their tops; but as he climbed they began to grow, so that there was always a piece more to get up, and so he went on, finding that there was no getting right to the top. Then avalanches began to fall rumbling and roaring down, and covering people at the bottom--hundreds of them, so it seemed to him; and he could hear them moaning under the snow, which by some curious chance of circumstances was just below him. But the odd thing was that they did not seem to mind it much, only moaning piteously and impatiently, as if they were in a hurry for a thaw to come and set them free. Then one of them began to ring the bell for dinner; and another did the same; and Saxe felt that he ought to be doing something to take them food to eat--coarse bread, butter, cheese like Gruyere, full of holes, and a jug of milk, but he did not do it, and the people went on moaning and ringing the bells.

Then he was high up, watching the waterfalls with the silvery rockets slowly descending, and trailing after them their sparkling spray, which kept lighting up with glorious rainbow colours.

Then he was stepping from stone to stone in the ice-cave below the glacier, listening to the gurgling and whishing of the water as it came rushing down over the grey, dark rock from out the narrow arching tunnel which shut up behind him.

How he got out of that place he did not know; but soon after his eyes were aching with the glare of the snow around him. A huge eagle, a hundred times bigger than the one he had seen, was soaring round and round, and coming lower and lower, till it was so close to him that he could feel the wind of its wings wafted pleasantly over his face. The bird's back was soft and cushiony, and it seemed to be inviting him to take his place upon it for a ride up in the air; and he was thinking of doing so, and gliding off over the silver-topped mountains to look out for caves where they could chip out crystals, and perhaps discover valuable metals; but just as he was about to throw a leg over the feathery saddle and take his seat, there was a fearful yell, that sounded like an accident in a trombone manufactory, where all the instruments had been blown up by an explosion of steam. He was hurled back upon the snow, and held down by some monstrous creature, which planted its feet upon his chest; and the people buried in the snow began to moan more loudly and ring the bells.

Then Saxe opened his eyes, and in his half-awake condition he felt the wafting of the great bird's wings, heard the moaning of the people buried beneath the avalanche, and listened to them ringing the bells in an impatient way.

"What nonsense, to dream such stuff!" he said impatiently. "Why, it's the cows lowing in the place underneath, waiting to be milked, and shaking their bells."

But, all the same, he felt a thrill of horror run through him, and tried to pierce the gloom by which he was surrounded, for certainly something was holding him down with its feet upon his chest, and stooping by him so that he could feel its breath.

The sensation to him was horrible, for it raised its head now, making a strange noise; and he could faintly see by a pencil of light a hideous-looking head, with tall curved horns and a long beard, and though he could not see them, he seemed to feel that a pair of glowing eyes were fixed upon his not a yard away.

There was no time to think or reason in such a position. He could see the head, and feel the pressure of the feet; and he knew that he was not dreaming now. Frightened he was naturally, but he acted at once as a lad of manly character might be expected to act: he struck out with his doubled fist, giving the object a heavy blow just beneath the horns.

The effect was instantaneous. The creature gave a bound, there was a pattering sound on the floor, and something rushed out through the open door, uttering a dismal b-a-a-ah!

"Why, it was a jolly old goat!" said Saxe, half aloud. "I wish I wasn't such a coward."

The next moment he was lying back laughing silently, fully grasping his position now, and listening to a rustling movement away to his left.

"That you, Melchior?" he said.

"Ah, herr: awake? Good morning."

"Not time to get up, is it?"

"Oh yes; it is getting late. Why, it will soon be full day!"

"Oh, will it?" muttered Saxe rather grumpily, for the bed he had despised overnight now seemed temptingly pleasant for another hour or two's snooze. "What nonsense!" he thought. "Soon be day! I hope we are not always going to get up at such ridiculous times. Well, if I'm to get up, he isn't going to be snoozing there."

He leaned over and stretched out his hand; but that was not sufficient, for their bed was wide, and he had to creep a yard or two before he could grasp his companion's shoulder.

"It's to-morrow morning, Mr Dale," he said.

"Eh? yes! All right. Where's Melchior?" cried Dale, springing up.

"Here, herr," said the guide from the door. "A beautiful morning, and I think a fine day."

"That's right," said Dale, shaking the hay from his clothes.

"Shall I ask where the dressing and bath-rooms are?" said Saxe, grinning.

"No," said Dale quietly; "I'll show you."

He led the way out of the chalet, where they met the furtive-looking man they had seen overnight. He gave them another sidelong look, said Guten morgen surlily, and then, as it seemed to Saxe, began to put on his tail--that is to say, he strapped on his one-legged milking-stool, and went to meet one of the cows.

"This way to the bath-room, Saxe," said Dale; and he led the way to the foot of the nearest fall, whose icy water came showering down softly as if it were from a cloud. Here there was a pool of the greatest limpidity, broad, deep, and ground out of the solid rock by the constant dropping that wears a stone.

There were no remains of sleep about Saxe's eyes after his ablutions, and they walked back towards the chalet, meeting Melchior.

"There is some breakfast ready, herr," he said; "and I should like to know whether it would be wise to get your things up here and stay for a few days."

"An excellent proposal; but how are we to get them?"

"Oh, there are men who would fetch them; or Andregg would send Pierre with his mule."

"Who is Pierre?--that man we saw milking?"

"Yes, herr. I don't like him, but he is honest, and will do that very well. Shall I send? After you have done here, I can get them carried farther over the mountains, or, if you liked, we could hire Andregg's mule for use at once."

"But the mountains? Can he climb?"

Melchior laughed.

"Almost anywhere. I think he could even beat us. He is a wonderful beast."

The proposal was agreed to, and after they had partaken of their homely breakfast, Andregg was questioned about the mule.

Oh yes, he was quite willing to lend it, for as many days or weeks as the herr liked.

"Then I'll have it to carry our little tent, rugs and provisions. I promise you I will feed the animal well."

"The herr need not trouble himself," said Andregg; "Gros will feed himself."

"Well, then, I will not work him too hard."

"I am not afraid, herr," said the sturdy grey-haired old Swiss, smiling; "he always lies down when he is tired."

"Then I will not beat him."

"No, herr," said Andregg; "he will not let you."

"Here, I want to see that mule!" cried Saxe.

"Oh yes, the young herr shall see him," said the old Swiss; and he went to the door and uttered a peculiar jodel, which was answered directly by a horrible bray which Saxe recognised as the yell he had heard before he was awake.

"Nein--nein--nein--nein!" shouted the old Swiss, and the donkey's bray died off into a sobbing moan. As this was ended, the old man jodelled again, apparently without result; but soon after there was a snort, and a peculiar-looking animal came trotting down from the mountain, whisking its long tail from side to side and pointing its long ears forward. But as it came close up, it suddenly stopped, and spun round as if upon a pivot.

"Here, come round and let's look at your head," cried Saxe.

"No; he will not turn till he knows you well," cried the old man; "he's very bashful, is Gros. You must make friends with him by degrees, and then he is quite a brother to any one in the mountains."

"But how am I to make friends with him?" cried Saxe.

"Get a piece of bread for the young herr, Melchior Staffeln," said the old man. "When it comes," he continued, "you may tempt Gros to come to you; but he is very particular, and may not like you, because you are foreigners."

The bread was brought. Saxe took it, and held it out to the mule, which slightly turned its head, gazed at it wistfully, but kept its hind quarters toward the would-be donor, turning as he turned, in spite of sundry coaxing words.

"Here, turn round," cried Saxe: "you can't eat with your tail."

"Don't go too close, herr," said the old Swiss; "I don't think he would, but he might kick."

"And I think it's very probable that he will," said Dale sharply; "that right hind leg is all of a quiver. Why, the brute's vicious, Melchior!" he said, in German.

"No, no--not vicious," said the old Swiss; "it's only that he's frightened and bashful: he isn't used to company, herr. Be patient with him, and he's a beast that would almost lay down his life for you."

"Looks more like laying down our lives," said Saxe, making a sudden dart round, as the mule was watching Dale, and then, as the animal turned sharply, holding out the bread.

Perhaps the wind bore the scent of the piece of loaf to the mule's nostrils, and the temptation was too great to resist. At any rate it stretched out its neck and extended its muzzle, so that head and neck were nearly in a straight line, and uttered a shrill, squealing whinny, which was answered at once by the donkey with a sonorous trumpeting bray, as the lesser animal came cantering up with tail and ears cocked.

"Ah! child of the evil one!" shouted old Andregg, "go back to your pasture;" and stooping down, he picked up a piece of freshly cut pine-wood, and threw it at the offending animal, missing him, but making him put his head down between his fore legs, and kick out his hind legs in defiance, before cantering off again.

By this time the mule was sniffing at the bread, and drawing nearer and nearer to Saxe's extended hand, consenting finally to take it and begin to eat.

"Is it not beautiful?" cried old Andregg, smiling. "Behold, you have made a friend who will serve you like a dog."

"I can't see anything very beautiful in it, Mr Dale," said Saxe, who had now advanced so far that he was permitted to pat the mule's neck; "and what does he mean by 'serve you like a dog'? Bite! He looks as if he could."

"He will be very useful to us, herr, and save us many a long weary tramp," said the guide, smiling. "I am willing and strong, but I cannot guide and carry much as well, and if you share the load with me, your climbing will be too laborious. With the mule to drive before us, we can take water, food, and blankets, beside a kettle for coffee; and sleep for one, two or three nights in the mountains, if we like. Shall we take him to-day?"

"I thought he was to be sent down the valley for our portmanteau and things," said Dale.

"Andregg can send the donkey," replied Melchior.

"Then by all means let us take the animal. I wish, though, that we had our ice-axes and rope, that I left at the chalet below."

"They will be ready for our next journey," said Melchior. And after due instructions had been given to old Andregg and his man Pierre, preparations were made for a fresh start up the mountains.

These did not take long. A kind of basket was secured firmly on the mule's back, and old Andregg, under Melchior's directions, produced a couple of worn ice-picks or axes, blankets, bottles, a kettle for coffee, and a little ready-chopped wood to supply the first start to the twigs and branches they would collect before leaving the forest.

By the time the mule was loaded with everything deemed necessary, Pierre was ready with the donkey, and the start was made together up and down the valley. At least, that was intended; but there were objections raised by the two four-footed friends, both wanting to go together; and when at last, after a volley of angry language from Andregg, the donkey was dragged by Pierre along the track, it began to bray loudly.

This was sufficient to attract the mule, which whinnied and tried to follow the donkey.

Melchior seized the bridle and checked him, just as they were ascending the first of a series of zigzags leading out of the deep valley, with the result that the donkey brayed again and had to be held by main force by Pierre's arm round his neck, for he had dragged his head out of the bridle; while Gros began to kick and back and behave so obstreperously that Dale gave him a sharp prod with the end of his alpenstock.

Misplaced prod! It was an unhappy touch, making, as it did, Gros give a tremendous plunge off the narrow mule-track, to come down on a slope so steep that he lost his footing, fell, and rolled over and over in a wonderful way, scattering bottles, wood, and tins from the basket, all of which went careering down the side of the valley with the mule, leaping, bounding and rattling and creaking in a way which drove the poor beast nearly frantic with fear, the catastrophe being in no wise bettered by the shouts of Andregg and the dismal brayings of the donkey, which seemed to be frantic in the endeavour to join his unfortunate friend.

The roll down was neither long enough nor dangerous enough to do any harm to Gros; but the state of the scattered cargo, as it was collected and carried to where the mule stood shivering, stamping and kicking at the basket as it hung down now between his legs, was deplorable, and meant a delay of half an hour before a fresh start could be made.

"You must be kind to Gros, herr," said the old Swiss reproachfully. "He always hated to be pricked by the iron point of an alpenstock. I have known him bite boys who used their alpenstocks to him."

"That's a hint for you, Saxe," said Dale merrily. "Worse disasters at sea," he cried. "Now, Melchior, are we all ready once more?"

"Yes, herr," replied the guide.

"Then which way do you propose going, after we get up out of the valley?"

"Over yonder, between those two peaks, herr," said the man, pointing.

"With the mule? Is it possible?"

"I think so, herr; and if you like we will try. I don't think there will be much snow in the pass--no more than the mule can manage. And, once there, I think we can descend into a wild valley below the snow-line--one where man very seldom treads."

"Excellent," said Dale. And they started, leaving old Andregg and his wife collecting the broken bottles and damaged articles below.

They had not ascended above half a dozen of the many zigzags of the path, when the bray of the donkey came faintly from behind, and Gros set up his ears, stopped, whinnied, and looked as if he were about to turn back; but this time kindness was tried, Melchior snatching a piece of bread from his pocket and walking on, holding it behind him.

The result was excellent. The bray of Gros's relative was forgotten, and he increased his pace, sniffing at the bread till he could succeed in taking it from the guide's hand, and, steadily journeying on, munch the sweet, fresh food.

In spite of the delay it was still early; and, feeling no trace of his last night's weariness, Saxe tramped on along the zigzag shelf in the valley side, till the edge of the steep part was reached. Melchior strode off to the right, and then to the left, so as to reach the narrow valley down which the stream came that had supplied them with water for their morning's bath.

This was a mere crack running up into the mountains, but with a little care a path was found upon the steep alp which formed one side, and when this became too precipitous, they descended into the rocky bed, and slowly made their way on till an opportunity for ascending to higher ground presented itself.

The progress made was very slow, but wonderfully interesting, from the variety of moisture-loving plants which took Dale's attention, and the brightly coloured insects, which took that of Saxe, while the mule was perfectly content to wait while a halt was called to capture insect or secure plant; the solemn-looking animal standing fetlock-deep in the water, and browsing on the herbage in the various crannies among the stones.

One of these halts was in an opening out of the narrow gorge running nearly east and west, so that it was flooded by the morning sun; and here, as the limpid water trickled and glided over the sandy bed, Dale took a shallow tin from the mule's pannier and lowered himself down to the edge of the stream.

Taking hold of a piece of rock so as to reach out, he bent down and scooped out half a panful of sand, where there was an eddy; and as the mule began to munch, and Saxe watched his leader's acts, Melchior pulled out his pipe, struck a match, and began to smoke.

"The herr is going to try for gold," he said quietly to Saxe; but Dale heard it.

"Yes. Is there much here, do you think?"

"It is too much to say, herr," replied the guide. "There may be, but I have never known any to be found on this side of the mountains."

"Is any found on the other side, then?"

"Oh yes, on the Italian slope, herr, and down in the valleys, they seek for and find gold--not much, but some."

"Got any, sir?" said Saxe.

"I don't know myself," replied Dale, who was washing the heavier gravel away, and picking out the stones he brought to the surface by a skilful motion of the pan beneath the water. "I must wash out all the sand first before I look to see if there is colour, as the American gold-finders call it."

"Is there another pan, Melchior?" said Saxe; "I want to try too."

"No, herr, there is only one."

"You wait, and let's see what I find, my lad. I expect it will be nothing. There's a nice fragment of onyx," he continued, picking out and pitching up a piece of flinty-looking rock to the lad. "I dare say there are some good agates here too, if we searched for them."

Dale spent about a quarter of an hour getting rid of every scrap of the granite; then held the pan in the bright sunshine, so that the water drained off and the rays shone full upon the bottom of the vessel.

He turned it about at different angles, shook the fine sand, and turned it over with his fingers; but ended by shaking his head.

"No luck, sir?"

"Not a speck. Never mind; I'll try again."

He dug down with the edge of the tin, scooping out a good deal of sand, so as to get a tinful from as deep down as he could.

"Gold is heavy, and would sink low if it were washed down," he said; and for the next quarter of an hour he repeated the washing process, while Melchior smoked, the mule browsed on the succulent herbage, and Saxe devoted himself to creeping farther along by the stream, and peering down into the pools in search of trout.

"That old fellow at the chalet said the mule would feed himself, Mr Dale," said the boy suddenly.

"Yes, he will not be much trouble to us that way," replied Dale, still plying the pan vigorously; when the mule suddenly reared its head, cocked its ears forward, and whinnied. _

Read next: Chapter 7. Melchior Grows Suspicious

Read previous: Chapter 5. Strange Quarters

Table of content of Crystal Hunters: A Boy's Adventures in the Higher Alps


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book