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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 16. A Grave Peril |
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_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. A GRAVE PERIL "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. _ |
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