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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 25. Melchior's Adventure |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. MELCHIOR'S ADVENTURE Saxe woke the next morning with a start, and, as full recollection came, he looked round at where Melchior lay; but he was not there. Dale was, however, sleeping soundly; and creeping silently out, so as not to awaken him, Saxe found, to his surprise, that the guide was seated by the fire, feeding it carefully and sparingly with sticks, so as to get all the flame to bear upon the coffee kettle; and, to Saxe's great delight, he seemed to be much as usual. "Why, Melk," he said, "I was afraid you would be very bad." "I? Oh no, herr. I was very bad last night, and it was hard work to get back here; but the sleep did me good. You see, we mountain people get used to being knocked about, and I am not much hurt." "But--" "Yes, I'll tell you presently, when the master is awake: it is not pleasant to talk about twice. Here he is." "Why, Melchior, man, you surprise me!" cried Dale, shaking hands warmly. "Here have I been dreaming all night about a long journey to fetch a _chaise a porteurs_ to carry you down, and here you are just as usual." "Yes, herr; and the coffee will be ready by the time you have had your bath." "But I want to know--" "Yes, herr, I'll tell you soon;" and a very, very short time after, as they sat round their meal, Melchior went on sipping his coffee and eating his bacon, as if he had never been in peril in his life; while the others, in spite of the hunger produced by the keen mountain air, could hardly partake of a morsel from the excitement they felt as the guide told of his mishap. "I always feel, herrs, when I have had to do with an accident, that I have been in fault, and that I have to examine myself as to what I had left undone; but here I cannot see that I neglected anything. The crevasse was not wide. I had seen you both leap in safety, and I followed. It was one of the misfortunes that happen to people, whether they are mountaineers or quiet dwellers in the valley." "Yes; a terrible accident, Melchior." "Yes, herr. Sometimes we go to mishaps, sometimes they come to us. Well, Heaven be thanked, my life was spared. Ah! herr, I am very proud of you two, for I seem to have taught you a little. Very few of our men would have worked more bravely, or done so well." "Oh, nonsense! We acted as any one else would under the circumstances," said Dale hastily. "Tell us about your accident." "My fall, herr? There is very little to tell." "Little!" echoed Saxe. "Oh, go on: tell us!" "Very well, herr," said Melchior simply; but he remained silent. "We thought you were killed," said Dale, to bring the guide's thoughts back. "Yes, herr; you would. It was a bad fall; very deep, but not like going down from a mountain. I am not broken anywhere; hardly scratched, except my hands and arms in climbing." "But you jumped across the crevasse, Melk!" cried Saxe, "and then a great piece broke out." "Yes, herr: so suddenly that I had not time to use my axe, and before I could utter a cry I was falling fast down into the dark depths. I believe I did cry out for help, but the noise of ice and snow falling and breaking on a ledge some way down drowned my voice; and as I turned over in the air, I felt that I had made my last climb, and that the end had come, as I had known it come to better guides." "There are no better guides," said Saxe warmly. "No!" echoed Dale, and they saw the man's face flush a little through his swarthy skin, and his eyes brighten. "Oh yes, herrs," he said; "but we all try to do our best. What was I saying? I remember: that I was falling down and down, and set my teeth and held my axe with both hands to try and strike if I should reach a slope, so as to stop myself; but there was nothing but the black walls of ice on either side and the roar of waters below. I thought of this as I prepared myself for being broken on the cruel rocks beneath: a great deal to think, herrs, in so short a time, but thoughts come quickly when one is falling. Then I was plunged suddenly into deep, roaring water, and felt myself swept round and then onward as if I had been once more in the schlucht; for I had fallen into one of the great water holes in the river below the gletscher, and then was carried along." "How horrible!" ejaculated Saxe. "Was it very dark?" "So black that a man might do without eyes, herr," said Melchior, smiling sadly. "You could not swim in water like that!" "No, herr; and it was so cold that it deadened a man's strength. But I knew I must fight for my life, for I said to myself I had my two English herrs above there on the gletscher, and how could they find their way back from the wilderness of ice? Then I thought of how the little river must run, and I could tell--for I knew it must be very much like the places where I have looked up from the end of gletschers (glaciers you call them)--that there would be deep holes worn in the rock where great stones are always whirling round and grinding the hollows deeper. These would be hard to pass; but I hoped by clinging to the side to get by them without being drowned. They were not what I feared." "Then what did you fear!" cried Saxe excitedly; for the guide had paused. "The narrow pieces, where the water touched the roof, herr. I knew it was far down to the foot of the glacier, and that there must be many long hollows where the water rushed through as in a great pipe; and if they were too long, I felt that I could never get my breath again, but that I should be thrown out at the bottom dead." Dale drew a long, deep breath, and asked himself whether he was justified in exposing a man to such risks for the sake of making his own discoveries. "Well, herrs, I knew that if I stopped I should get benumbed and unable to struggle on, so I began feeling my way along the narrow shore of the little river, now touching stone, now ice, till the shore seemed to end. As I felt about I found the ice arch lower, and that I must begin to wade." "But why didn't you try and wade back to the bottom of the crevasse where you fell?" cried Saxe. "I did, herr; but it was impossible to face the water. It rushed down so fiercely that, as it grew deeper and from wading knee deep I was going along with the water at my waist, I had to cling sometimes to the ice above my head to keep from being swept away." Saxe drew a long breath. "I went on, herr, cheered by the knowledge that every step I took was one nearer to liberty; and now, though the water was all melted ice, I did not feel so cold, till suddenly my feet slipped away from under me, and I felt as if something had given me a heavy push in the back. Then I was under the water, and found that I was gliding round and round. I don't know how many times, for it was like being in a dream, till I was once more where the water swept me down under the ice arch. "There, I can tell you little more, except that it was all wild confusion, that the roar of the water seemed to crash against my ears till I was once more in a shallow place; and as I struggled to get my breath, I came to what seemed to be a bar, panting heavily till I could turn a little, and I found that the bar to which I clung was the handle of my ice-axe lying across two masses of stone, between which the waters roared. "I felt that I could go no farther, and that if I attempted to pass through that narrow gateway of stone it would be to my death, so I forced myself sidewise till I found myself free from so much pressure, and, stretching out my ice-axe, I felt about till I could hook it on to ice or stone; and as I drew myself along by the handle the water grew less deep, then shallower still; and as I made my way it was over stones among which water ran, and I felt about with my axe, puzzled, for it was so strange. There was the water running over my feet, but gently, and the rushing river a little way behind. What did it mean? why was it so? Those were the questions I asked myself till the light came." "Ah! it began to get light?" cried Saxe. "In my brain, herr," said Melchior, smiling; "and I knew that this was a little side stream coming down some crack beneath the ice, one of the many that help to make the other big. "As soon as I understood this I stopped, for I knew that the opening to these rivers would grow smaller and smaller, and that it would be of no use to go up there if I wanted to escape. So, wading along, I tried to reach the wall, to lean against it and rest before going back to the torrent, knowing as I did that this must be the only way. "I must have taken a dozen steps before my ice-axe checked against the ice, and I threw myself against it, trying to calm my burning head by resting it against what I took to be the arch of the large ice-cave into which I had found my way; but, instead of the wall leaning over toward me, as it would in a rugged arch, it sloped away. I did not notice this much as I leaned forward, for the ice felt delightfully cool against my burning head; and as the coldness went in farther and farther, I seemed to be able to think better and clearer, and this set me trying about with the axe, till I found that I was at the bottom of a great ice slope, as it seemed to me; and as I raised my head and gazed upward my heart gave a great throb, for there, high up, far away, was a gleam of light, and at the sight of that strength came to me, and I grasped my axe tightly, for that meant escape from that terrible place, and life. "I was quite cool then, and I knew that I must be at the bottom of some crevasse. I knew, too, that the ice sloped away from me, therefore it would most likely do so all the way up; so I had only to climb to the surface of the gletscher and walk away." "I'm beginning to understand now," said Saxe. "An ice slope is not a very serious thing to a guide who has worked upon the mountains ever since he was a boy, herrs. Feeling satisfied now that I had but to cut my way up step by step, I grew more easy in my mind, glanced up, and then, after a little feeling about in the darkness, I chipped my first step, just enough for my toe to hold in, rose up and cut another." "In the dark? How did you know where to hit?" cried Saxe. "I could cut steps in the ice blindfold, herr," said Melchior sharply. "When the hands and arms have grown used to doing a thing, they can do it even if the eyes are not watching them. Of course I do not say I always struck exactly in the right place, but I could get sufficiently near to make a notch in the smooth ice; and I kept on, with my heart growing lighter as I chipped away, listening to the echoing of the blows and the hissing sound of the bits of ice as they slipped down the smooth face--for it was perfectly smooth, and as if polished. "Step by step I cut my way. It was slow, tiring work; but every notch made was a step nearer to liberty, and I worked on. As I climbed higher I had to cut my notches deeper, for the slope was not quite so easy, and the slightest slip would have sent me to the bottom; and from the height to which I had at last climbed this might have meant a broken arm or leg, for there was no water to fall into but a few inches trickling among the stones. "And so I cut on and on, herrs, till, as I looked up far above me, I could see the gleam of the sun, and hope grew stronger and sent strength into my arms as I swung my axe. "Higher and higher, always getting up by making a notch for each foot, till my arms began to grow heavy as lead. But still I worked on, every step cut bringing me nearer to the surface, though at the end of each hour's hard labour I seemed very little advanced; and at last, as I grew more weary, my spirits began to sink again, for the slope grew more and more steep, though I would not own to it myself. Still it was steeper and steeper, and I cut desperately, and made deep notches into which I forced my feet, while I cut again till the last part was nearly perpendicular; and after cutting my last step I felt that my task was done, for I had reached a ledge over which I was able to climb, till I could lie half upon it, knowing that I had come to where the wall went straight up, and that it would be impossible to hold on to that slippery ice and cut my way higher. "Still, I would not give up, herrs; but reached up and cut till I felt that I was gliding off the narrow ledge, and then I had to rest, and use my axe to cut notches for my feet to hold and others for my hands, for the least slip would have sent me down like a stone in a couloir, and I wanted rest before I had to get down again. I asked myself if I could; and a cold feeling came over me, as I thought that all this work had been for nothing, and that the end had now really come. "And then I took my axe again as it lay beside me, and began cutting in a madly foolish kind of way. There was no use in it. I could not help myself by cutting; but I could hear the lumps of ice hissing down, and it made me think, so that the work did me good. More, it did other good, for, as I have thought over it since, it has made me try to pray as a man should pray who has been delivered from a terrible fall. For those last blows of my axe must have been the ones which you heard, Herr Saxe--the blows which brought you to my help just when my arms were ready to sink to my side, and I had fully determined in my own mind that I could never get down from the ledge to the little river alive." "How deep was it, Melk?" cried Saxe excitedly. The guide shook his head. "You know the rest, gentlemen. You came and saved my life just when I had not sufficient strength left to have tied the rope safely about my waist. It was the noose which saved me, and I could not believe in that safety till you dragged me over the side of the crevasse. Herr Dale-- Herr Saxe, how am I to say words to show you how thankful I am?" "Do not try," said Dale quietly. "Come, Saxe boy, you have let your coffee grow cold." "Yes," said Saxe; "but it has made my head hot. I don't feel as if I want any breakfast now." "Nonsense: you must eat, for we have a long journey back to the chalet." "To the chalet, herr? You do not want to go round by the chalet?" "Indeed, but I do. You will want a fortnight's rest after this adventure." The guide stared at him in astonishment. "A fortnight's rest!" he echoed; "and with weather like this! Oh, herr, it would be madness: I want no rest." "Why, you do not mean to say that you feel equal to going on?" "Oh yes, herr. I am a little stiff and tired this morning, but that will be all gone by to-morrow; and I meant to take you up to a crystal cave to-day." Saxe looked at Dale's wondering face, and then burst into a hearty laugh. "It is of no use to dwell upon troubles gone by, herr," said Melchior. "I shall get well quicker here than down at the chalet. How soon will you be ready to start?" _ |
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