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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 41. Melchior Wakes Up |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY ONE. MELCHIOR WAKES UP The boy's lips parted, but no words came; his arm was raised with its weapon, but he could not strike--only stand shivering; until, by a tremendous effort, he flung himself round and dashed back. "Why, hallo, lad! what is it? Have you seen a ghost?" Saxe tried to speak, but no words would come for a few moments. "Yes--no," he panted at last. "Something dreadful--in there." Dale caught up the ice-axe which he had laid down while he was measuring, and turned to the guide. "What is it likely to be, Melchior--a bear?" "I cannot say, herr," said the guide, whose countenance changed a little as he, too, caught up his ice-axe. "But I should think not--in there." "No--not a bear," panted Saxe. "I saw it--last night. Horrible-- horrible." "Don't rave like a hysterical girl, my lad," cried Dale, grasping Saxe's arm. "Now, then: speak out--like a man. Is it the body of some poor creature dead?" "No--no," said Saxe, struggling to master himself, and now speaking calmly: "I went to the fall to drink in the middle of the night, and I saw it there. It cast lumps of ice at me, and I saw it close to the lanthorn." "A wild beast?" "No," said Saxe, with a shudder. "Come; you must not be scared like that, my lad. What was it?" "I don't know; unless it is true that there are gnomes and kobolds, and this is one." "Well, then, boy--it is not true, and this is not one." "No--no: of course not," said Saxe, who was now strung up. "It must be a man." "Of course. What do you say, Melchior?" "That it must be a man trying to frighten him, herr. We will go and see." "Yes," said Dale calmly, taking the lanthorn: "we must go and see. We shall be back directly, Saxe." "I am coming with you," said the boy firmly. "I am ashamed to have been so frightened, but it was very horrible." Dale gripped his arm firmly. "Well done, brother mountaineer," he whispered. "Come along." He strode into the ice-cave, closely followed by Saxe, and Melchior went in after him. "These English: they are very brave," he muttered. "I must go, too." Dale went on, holding the lanthorn on high, and his ice-axe so that it could be used as a cudgel in case of attack; and as soon as the first bend was passed there were clear evidences of pieces of ice having been thrown, while a minute later a good-sized piece grazed the lanthorn, and another struck Saxe on the arm. "Hurt?" said Dale. "Not much." "Come on, then, and turn your axe. Don't be afraid to strike with the handle. It is a trick being played upon us." "Take care, herr--take care!" said Melchior, in an excited whisper, as a couple more pieces were thrown, to shiver against the stones. "Yes, I'll take care," said Dale angrily, as he pressed on. "Hold your axe handle in front of your face, Saxe." At that moment there was a rushing sound, and the goat darted by them, startling all for the moment; but Dale went on, and now reached the second angle. He was in the act of passing round, when the same great hideous face came into view, with the eyes rolling and the great mouth opened, showing crooked blackened teeth. It was so hideous that Dale stopped short, with his blood seeming to curdle; and when he recovered himself and looked again, the face was gone. "You saw!" whispered Saxe. "Yes, I saw. What is it?--a gorilla?" At that moment a hideous, bellowing roar came echoing down the ice grotto, sounding so low and inhuman that it needed all Saxe's determination to stand fast. "What are you going to do?" whispered the boy. "Act like a man, sir," said Dale firmly. "Here, Melchior, can you explain this--a hideous face, like that of some deformity--a dwarf?" "Ah!" exclaimed Melchior: "you saw that? I thought so, from that cry." "Well, what is it? Do you know?" "Yes, I know!" cried the guide angrily: "who could be so weak? Come on, herr. Give Herr Saxe the light, and be ready to help me. He is as strong as a lion if he attacks us, but he will not dare. Throw at travellers, will he? Come on." Melchior was already striding forward, with his axe handle ready; and, angry at getting no farther explanation, Dale followed, with Saxe close up, now taking and holding the lanthorn on high so that it nearly touched the icy roof. They were not kept long in suspense, for there was another hideous cry, which seemed to send all the blood back to the boy's heart, and then there was a rush made from the dark part of the grotto; a loud, excited ejaculation or two; the sound of a heavy blow delivered with a staff; and in the dim light cast by the lanthorn Saxe saw that both Dale and Melchior were engaged in a desperate struggle. The boy's position was exciting in the extreme, and thought after thought flashed through his brain as to what he should do, the result being that he did nothing, only held the lanthorn, so that those who struggled and wrestled, before him could see. In spite of the hoarse, inhuman howling he could hear close to him, all superstitious notions were now gone. Dale and Melchior were too evidently engaged with human beings like themselves; and the next instant there was a heavy blow, a cry and a fall. "Rightly served," cried Melchior, "whoever you are. Now, herr, you hold him, and I'll use my rope." "Quick, then!" panted Dale hoarsely: "he's too strong for me. Hah!" Dale was heavily thrown, and Saxe could dimly see a short, squat figure upon his breast. Then he saw Melchior appear out of the gloom, and quick as lightning twist a loop of the rope tightly round the arms of the figure, binding them to its side. "Now, herr, up with you," cried Melchior, "and help me. Show the light, Herr Saxe. Ah! that's right: down on his face. Good. Your foot on the back of his neck. Now I have him. Good English rope: he will not break that." As the guide spoke he wound his rope round the figure's hands, which he had dragged behind its back, and tied them fast, serving the legs in the same way, in spite of the fierce howlings and horrible yellings made. "That will do," cried the guide at last, and he stooped down over his prisoner. "Not hurt, are you, herr?" "Well--yes, I am. It was like wrestling with a bull, and he has bitten my arm." "Not through your clothes, herr?" cried the guide excitedly. "No: I suppose it is only like a pinch; but it was as if it were nipped in a vice." "Show the light here, young herr," continued Melchior, as he turned the captive over. "He is beautiful, is he not?" "Horrible!" ejaculated Dale, with a shudder. "Good heavens! who and what is he?" "The most hideous cretin in Switzerland, herr. Poor wretch! he had no brains, but his strength is terrible. He is from the valley next to Andregg's. I don't know what he can be doing here." "I know," cried Saxe excitedly: "watching us." "No," said Melchior: "he has not the sense, unless--Here, I must have hit some one else in the dark. There were two. Give me the light!" He snatched the lanthorn and stepped farther in, to bend down over another prostrate figure. "It is!" he cried. "Pierre! I don't quite understand as yet. It must be--yes, I see. The wretch!--it is his doing. He must have been watching us, and set this creature--this animal--to do his work--do what he wanted. But no: Herr Dale, Herr Saxe, I am puzzled." "Hooray!" shouted Saxe. "I have it!" "What!" cried Dale, who was stanching the blood which flowed from his nose. "The crystals!" cried Saxe. "They must have hidden them here." Melchior took a dozen steps farther into the ice-cave, having to stoop now, and then he uttered a triumphant jodel. "Come here, herrs!" he cried, holding down the lanthorn. "Look! All are here." Saxe darted forward, to be followed more cautiously by Dale, and the party stood gazing down at the glittering heap of magnificent crystals hidden there as the least likely place to be searched. For, as Pierre afterwards confessed, he had heard the plans made as he stood, on their first coming, in the stable, and then and there determined to possess himself of the valuable specimens the English party and their guide might find. In spite of his vacant look, he was possessed of plenty of low cunning, and he at once secured the dog-like services of the cretin, who had been his companion in the mountains for years, and obeyed him with the dumb fidelity of a slave. The task was comparatively easy, for their knowledge of the mountains in that wild neighbourhood was far greater than Melchior's. The cretin's strength and activity were prodigious, and he readily learned his lesson from his master, with the result that has been seen. _ |
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