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The Crystal Hunters: A Boy's Adventures in the Higher Alps, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 14. A Mountain Mist |
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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN. A MOUNTAIN MIST "Hah!" ejaculated Dale, as he watched the strange phenomenon; "people will talk superstitious nonsense and believe in ghost stories, portents and other old women's tales. But don't you take any notice of them, Saxe. They will not do for Englishmen. Why, you have no faith in such things, Melchior?" "Not much, herr," said the guide, smiling: "I have seen the 'spectre of the Brocken,' as people call it, twenty times at least. But I do fear mists." "Yes; those are real dangers. And you think we shall have them here!" "Yes, herr. I should like us to descend at once. We can do nothing in a fog." "Come along, Saxe: we'll go down." "Can't--can't we stop a little longer?" said the lad hesitatingly. "No. You will have plenty more chances of seeing views like this, or finer. What is it, Melchior?" "We were forgetting all about the rocks, herr. There are some curious bits here." He picked up two or three fragments and handled them, but Dale threw them aside after a glance. "Only very fine, hard granite, with scarcely a grain of felspar," he said. "What about this?" As he spoke he stooped down over a narrow crevice running up a portion of the summit. "Yes. There may be something here, but it would require blasting tools and power to open it out. Look here, Saxe!" He pointed to the narrow split, in which it was just possible to get the end of his ice-axe handle; and as Saxe bent down he saw that the sides were lined with tiny quartz crystals, which grew bigger lower down. "I want to find a rift in the mountains leading into a cavern where we may find crystals worth saving. Yes, Melchior, I will not waste time. These are of no value. Lead on." The guide had been giving an anxious look round, for there was a faint sighing of the wind, and clouds were floating around them now and then, shutting off the sun. "I should like to get well down, herr, before the weather changes. The young herr would find it terribly cold." "Hadn't we better wait till it gets clearer," said Saxe, "and go down then?" "If we did we might not be able to get down at all," said Dale quietly. "Why?" "We might be frozen to death. Come, Saxe, you must not be greedy. You've had a splendid ascent on a lovely day, and you will have others. Always pay respect to your guide's opinion about the weather. Come along." Saxe could hang back no longer, though the sensation of dread he suffered from was terrible. Try how he would, there was the horror of that first bit of the descent before him; and, shuddering and feeling cold, he followed to the edge of the rock where he had found the guide sitting, and a fresh access of horror came over him as Dale said coolly: "Now, Melchior, it is your turn to go first and have the use of the rope. I'll come last." "We can all use it, herr," said the guide. "It will be quite long enough if I pass it round this block and let both ends hang down. I can draw it after us when we are down." He threw the rope over a great block of granite, and proceeded to draw it along till the ends were equal, when he lightly twisted the rope and threw it over the precipice. "Then I'll go first," said Dale; and, seizing the twisted rope, he lowered himself over the edge, hung in sight for a few moments, and then, as soon as his hands were clear of the edge, allowed himself to slide down, while Saxe's palms felt cold and wet. He watched the rope intently and strained his ears, and then started, for Melchior gently laid his hand upon his shoulder. "What is it?" cried Saxe excitedly. "Has he fallen?" "No, herr; and nobody is going to fall. You are fancying troubles. I know. I have not led strangers up the mountains for twenty years without studying their faces as well as the face of Nature. I can read yours. You are scarcely yourself, and feeling fear where there is no need. Come now, take a long breath. Make an effort, and be calm. I'll draw up the rope and fasten one end round you, and lower you down." "No," cried Saxe excitedly; "I can get down without. Is he safe yet?" "Safe? He is down: look at the rope shaking. Shall I draw it up?" For answer Saxe stooped down, and rose again to get his ice-axe well behind him in his belt. Then he stooped again, seized the lightly twisted rope, lay down upon his chest, thrust his legs over the edge of the precipice, worked himself back till he was clear, and began to glide slowly down. He shuddered, for the rope began to twist; and directly after, instead of gazing at the rough granite rock, he was facing outward, and gazing wildly down at the step-like series of precipices below. "Not too fast," came from Dale; and this brought him back to his position, and, twisting his legs about the double rope, he slipped down more slowly, wondering the while why the rope had ceased to turn and swing, till he saw that it was being held tightly now. "Well done!" cried Dale: "you are getting quite at home at it. Right!" he shouted to Melchior, whose two legs appeared directly after, then his body, and he slid down rapidly, as if it were one of the most simple things in the world--as it really was, save that, instead of being close to the level, it was twelve thousand feet above. As Melchior joined them, he rapidly untwisted the rope, held the two ends apart, and, as he drew with his left, he sent a wave along from his right, and threw the end up, with the result that the rope came away easily, and was rapidly coiled up. The mists were collecting on the summit as they reached the snow bed, but they followed their old track easily enough; and when at last, in what seemed to be a surprisingly short space of time, they came to the head of the arete, the white, spectral looking fog was creeping down in long-drawn wreaths, toward which Melchior kept turning his eyes. "Look as if they will catch us soon," said Dale quietly. "Pray Heaven they may not till we are clear of this ridge, herr!" said the guide piously. "Now, quick--the rope! You will go first." The rope was rapidly attached, and, as Dale started to descend, it seemed to Saxe that he was disappearing over the edge of a precipice; and as this was repeated again and again while they reversed the way by which they had ascended, the guide sitting fast and holding on till they were down, the place seemed far more terrible, and the snow slopes on either side almost perpendicular. They made good way, however, Melchior keeping on inciting them to fresh exertion. "Go on, gentlemen--go on!" he said. "I have you safe. The rope is good. Go on, herrs--go on!" But the descent over those rugged knife-edged ridges was so perilous, that Dale went slowly and cautiously; and when he reached each stopping-place he held on till Saxe had passed down to him. Once the boy seemed to totter as he was passing from one of the rocks to the other, over a patch of snow between them; but the firm strain upon the rope gave him support, and he reached the rock and began to lower himself. In spite of their hastening, that which Melchior had apprehended happened: a cloud of mist suddenly started in advance of the rest, which had formed upward, and now completely veiled the summit. This mist-cloud rolled rapidly down when the party were about two-thirds of the way down the ridge, and just as Saxe was being lowered down. An ejaculation from the guide made the lad look up; and he saw the stern, earnest face for a moment, then the fog rolled over it, and the guide's voice sounded strange as he shouted: "Go on, young herr; and directly you reach Mr Dale sit fast. Don't move." Five minutes later Melchior was with them, and they crouched together, partly on rock, partly in snow. "We must not move, herr," said Melchior. "It is unfortunate, but I was rather afraid. If it had held off for another quarter of an hour, I should not have cared." "Will it last long?" asked Saxe. "Who can say, herr! Perhaps for days. In the mountains, when the weather is bad, we can only wait and hope." "Had we not better try to get down off this edge?" "As a last resource, if the mist does not lift, herr. But not yet." Dale uttered an impatient ejaculation; but the guide filled and lit his pipe, settling himself down quite in the snow. "Wind may come later on," he said, "and then perhaps we can get down. It is a pity, for this is the worst place in the whole descent. But there: the mountains are mountains, and anything is better than an icy wind, that numbs you so that you cannot stir." He was scarcely visible, close as he was; but he had hardly finished speaking when Saxe saw his head, at first faintly, then clearly--for the cloud of mist had been still descending, and literally rolled down past them, Saxe himself standing out clear, then Dale, and the rocks below them one by one as far as the curve permitted them to see. It was bright sunshine now once more, and as the rays from the west shot by, it was between two strata of clouds, glorifying that which was below and lighting up that above. "Quick, herr!" said Melchior, in an authoritative tone. "We have this bad piece to finish, if we can, before another cloud rolls down." The descent was continued, seeming to Saxe almost interminable. Then they were hurrying along over the snow, after passing the morning's resting-place, and on and on till the shelf was reached with the precipice running down so steeply, just as mist came rolling down from above and also up from the depths below, meeting just where the party stood roping themselves together. But, to the surprise of Saxe, the guide took no heed--he merely went on fastening the rope till he had done. "You will not venture along that shelf while it is so thick, Melchior?" said Dale. "Oh yes, herr. We must not wait here." "But the danger!" "There is scarcely any, herr," replied the guide. "The great danger is of going astray. We cannot go wrong here. We have only to go along the shelf to the end." "But it is like going along the edge of a precipice in the dark." "It is like darkness, and more confusing, herr; but we have the wall on our left to steady us, and where we are is terribly exposed. Trust me, sir." "Forward!" said Dale quietly. "Keep the rope fairly tight." Melchior stepped at once on to the ledge, and the others followed, all three going cautiously and very slowly through the opaque mist, which looked so solid at Saxe's feet that more than once he was ready to make a false step, while he wondered in himself that he did not feel more alarm, but attributed the cause rightly to the fact that he could not see the danger yawning below. To make the passage along this ledge the more perilous and strange, each was invisible to the other, and their voices in the awful solitude sounded muffled and strange. As Saxe stepped cautiously along, feeling his way by the wall and beating the edge of the precipice with the handle of his ice-axe, he felt over again the sensations he had had in passing along there that morning. But the dread was not so keen--only lest there should be a sudden strain on the rope caused by one of them slipping; and he judged rightly that, had one of them gone over the precipice here, nothing could have saved the others, for there was no good hold that they could seize, to bear up against the sudden jerk. "Over!" shouted Melchior at last. "Steady, herr--steady! Don't hurry! That's it: give me your hand." "I can't see you." "No? Come along, then, another yard or two: you are not quite off the ledge. That's it. Safe!" "And thank goodness!" said Dale, with a sigh of relief, a few minutes later. "That was worse than ever. Saxe, my lad, you are having a month's mountaineering crowded into one day." "Yes, herr," said Melchior; "he is having a very great lesson, and he'll feel a different person when he lies down to sleep." "He will if we have anywhere to sleep to-night. It seems to me as if we must sit under a block of stone and wait until this mist is gone." "Oh no, herr," said the guide; "we will keep to the rope, and you two will save me if I get into a bad place. I seem to know this mountain pretty well now; and, if you recollect, there was nothing very bad. I think we'll go on, if you please, and try and reach the camp." "You asked me to trust you," said Dale. "I will. Go on." "Forward, then; and if I do not hit the snow col I shall find the valley, and we can journey back." For the first time Saxe began to feel how utterly exhausted he had grown. Till now the excitement and heat of the journey had monopolised all his thoughts; but, as they stumbled on down slope after slope strewn with debris, or over patches of deep snow, his legs dragged heavily, and he struck himself awkwardly against blocks of granite that he might have avoided. The work was comparatively simple, though. It was downward, and that must be right unless Melchior led them to the edge of some terrible precipice right or left of the track they had taken in the morning. But matters began to go easier and easier, for at the end of another hour's tramp they suddenly emerged from the mist, coming out below it, and after a few more dozen steps seeing it like a roof high above their heads. Here the guide stopped, mounted a stone, and stood looking about him in the evening light. "I see," he cried: "we are not half an hour out of our way. Off to the right we shall reach the snow, and then our task is done." Melchior was right: in less than the time he had named they reached the place where they had left the great snow slope, up which they had had to zigzag; and after descending it diagonally for some distance, the guide proposed a glissade. "The young herr shall come down behind me this time," he said; and after a few preliminary words of advice they started, and rapidly descended safely to the debris at the foot of the snow, from which the walk to the camp was not long. Melchior soon had a good fire burning, with Gros standing near contemplating it solemnly, while Dale placed their provisions ready. "Now, Saxe, my lad," he said, "I congratulate you on your display of honest English pluck to-day. I don't see that any boy of your age could have behaved better. Come along: coffee's ready. You must be half starved." There was a pause. "Ready, Melchior?" "Yes, herr: the coffee smells heavenly, and I have an appetite for three." "You shall satisfy it, then. To-morrow we'll go back and fetch all our traps, and then come over here again; for I do not think we can get a better part for our search. Come, Saxe, wake up." But there was no reply: Saxe was sleeping with all his might after the tremendous exertions of the day. _ |
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