CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
A CATASTROPHE.
"When are you going to give us a glissade, Melk?" cried Saxe, as theyreached a piece of smooth snow descending at a moderate angle.
"The first time there is a suitable place, herr," replied the guidequietly.
"Why not here?"
"I will show you when we get to the bottom."
Saxe looked disappointed, and grew more so as the descent was madeslowly and toilsomely, with every precaution taken and warning wordsuttered from time to time respecting keeping the rope taut.
"But there were no crevasses here?" said Saxe, as they reached to wherethe slope seemed to curve over suddenly and then descend more sharply,for the continuation was out of sight.
"No, there are no crevasses," replied Melchior; "but a slip here wouldhave been bad."
"This is a cornice, then, Melchior?" said Dale.
"Yes, herr, and if you two will hold me, I will step out a little wayand break a hole for you to see."
In obedience to his instructions, Saxe and Dale stepped back to the fullextent of the cord, and then eased it out as the guide stepped forward,till he suddenly held up his hand.
"Now," he said, "let me bear out against the rope;" and, raising theice-axe in both hands, he began to use it vigorously, cutting hard atthe frozen snow, till there was a sharp crack, and he threw himself backwhile a huge piece of the cornice broke away and dropped down out ofsight. Then all waited breathlessly till a faint hissing sound toldthat it had touched rock or ground somewhere below, but how far downSaxe did not realise, till Melchior made way for him to creep to theextreme edge and look.
"We have the rope tightly," said Dale, "so you need not hesitate."
But the boy did hesitate, and, after peering over, he shrank backappalled.
Melchior smiled.
"Well, herr," he said, "what do you think of the glissade, if you hadtaken one?"
"It's horrible," said Saxe, in a subdued tone; and he turned and lookeddown again where the guide had broken away the cornice, which curved outover a tremendous precipice, and saw that had he followed hisinclination and slid down the snow slope, he would have gone over thecornice, and then plunged headlong, to fall nearly sheer down whatseemed to be three or four thousand feet, to where a glacier wound alongpast the foot of the precipice.
Just then Dale joined him.
"Ah!" he said; "this is grand. Look at the course of that river till itdisappears in the haze. You can count several villages, too, on themountain slope and plain."
But Saxe had no eye for river or villages. The object that took hisattention was the river of ice below, upon which whoever dropped fromwhere he stood must fall; and as Dale spoke to him again, he turned awaywith quite a start and a shudder.
"Hallo!" cried Dale; "that will not do. Too imaginative, Saxe. There'splenty all round to encounter, without your calling up the imaginary.Well, Melchior, which way next?"
"Up above that snow slope, herr, and round the shoulder of the mountainthat you can see yonder."
"Yes; but that's going up again."
"Yes, herr; I do not like to be so near this place without letting yousee the Silber Grat and the wonderful view. Very few people come to seethis place, but it is very grand."
"Yes, grand in the extreme," said Dale. "Here, Saxe," he continued,giving the rope a jerk, "come away now."
The boy started again, and then frowned, as he felt as if he were beingtreated like a mule or a donkey, held by a halter.
"Ready, herrs?" said the guide. "We must get on, please."
"Which way?" said Dale.
"Straight up, herr, along by these rocks, till we are above that snowslope; then along the top across the shoulder, where we shall find aneasy slope on the other side, and perhaps be able to have a glissadewithout going down a precipice at the bottom."
"Oh, come!" cried Saxe; "that's meant for me. How was I to know thatthe mountain ended suddenly like a wall?"
"Never mind that," said Dale impatiently; "it's growing late, and wewant to get back to camp. Why, Melchior, we are going to have a storm!"
"Yes, herr; I'm afraid so."
"Then why go up there and along the top? Surely we can go diagonally upthe snowfield from here to the corner below the shoulder, and we shallsave half a mile, at least!"
"Yes, herr; nearer a mile," said the guide, gazing up thoughtfully atthe smooth snowfield; "but there is a great slope there."
"Yes, but away from this horrible precipice. I suppose that goes downinto an inner valley?"
"Yes, herr; and extends right to the bottom--all snow."
"Then a slip and a roll would not matter?"
"No, herr."
"Then why do you hesitate, man?" cried Dale peevishly, as the guidestood with his brow shaded, gazing up at the dazzling slope which rosefrom them at a little distance and then curved over and disappeared.
"I was looking, herr, because I mistrusted that snow. It does not lookhealthy."
"What, likely to give way? Absurd! There are no crevasses there."
"Oh no, herr. It is all rock below."
"Of course: it must be. Well, we will take the cut right across thatsnow to the opposite corner."
"The herr desires it?" said Melchior gravely.
"Yes, certainly. It is folly to go so far round."
"The snow is not always good, herr; and the longest way round issometimes the nearest."
"Yes, but with a storm coming on, perhaps!" said Dale sharply.
"It may be hours yet, herr."
"The better for us. Let's get back down into shelter."
Melchior said no more, but unfastened the rope, and after coiling it up,led them along for some distance, till the great cornice was leftbehind, and they descended into a little valley over snow, ice and rock,till they reached the stream hurrying down the hollow, crossed it, madea similar ascent, and just as Saxe had it in his mind to say, "I thoughtwe were going over that snowfield," they climbed up through a littlewilderness of blocks, and they were upon the edge of the unsulliedslope, which ran up to left and down to their right apparently for amile.
"Ah!" cried Dale, springing upon the snow, which allowed his feet tosink in a little; "capital condition! Now, Melchior, forward!"
"Yes, herr," said the guide, testing the snow with his foot; "there willbe no steps to cut here."
He then started off to cross the great snowfield diagonally, so as toreach the rocks at the far top corner, his feet sinking more deeply intothe soft crystals than was conducive to good progress, and Saxe first,and then Dale, keeping pretty well to his footprints.
"Disappointing, this," said Dale, when they were about a third of theway across. "I thought we were to have nothing but downward progressnow."
"It is puffing work, too!" cried Saxe.
"Herr! herr!" said the guide, stopping short in his tracks, and speakingin a reproachful whisper.
"What's the matter?" said Saxe.
"There is a great deal of loose snow high up on our left, and if you setany of it in motion it would be bad."
"I forgot," said Saxe apologetically. "I will be more careful."
"That's right," said Dale. "Not much danger, though, here. No fear ofbeing bombarded by stones--eh, Melchior?"
"No, herr," said the guide, looking about him anxiously. "Shall we geton?"
Dale nodded, and they tramped on through the soft snow for some distancefarther; when, just as Saxe was asking himself whether he was growingtired or the snow much more soft, Melchior paused once more and lookedupward.
"Yes--what is it?" said Dale quickly.
"A minute's rest for the young herr, sir. As soon as he has his breathwell go on. The snow is loose, but better than I expected. I was alittle afraid at starting."
"Afraid? Of what?"
"The snow is often a little treacherous in a place like this, herr; andas it is so loose we shall have to be careful about glissading when weget beyond the rocks yonder."
"But surely there is nothing treacherous here?" said Dale: "a littlesoft, perhaps, but that is all. Go on: we ought to be up there inanother quarter of an hour."
"Yes, herr," said the guide, after another glance up at the wreaths andfolds of pure white snow which draped the mountain high above theirheads; and then, after giving Saxe an encouraging smile, he went onagain, with his boots crunching down the snow, forming a series ofimpressions which were deepened by those who followed.
Half the distance--two-thirds--was passed; and as he struggled on,feeling hot now and as if the exertion were telling upon him, Saxeglanced back, wondering at the length of the track they had made, andhow the snowfield had seemed to extend as they trudged along.
"Yes," said Dale, from close behind him, as he divined the boy'sthoughts, "it is a long way; but we shall soon reach the rocks now, andthen the worst part of our journey is done."
Crack!
A long dull report, as of something breaking; and Melchior stopped shortand uttered a groan.
"What is it?" cried Dale excitedly.
"The snow, herr--the snow!" cried Melchior. "See!"
He spoke calmly and solemnly, but made no effort to dash on; though, ashe realised their danger, Dale's first impulse was to call upon Saxe totry and reach the rocks.
Melchior knew that it would be impossible, and he stood firm, ready tomeet his fate.
For far above them a dark jagged line had opened across the snowfield,with the dull report they had heard. That crack had begun to widenrapidly, with a curious hissing noise, and the next moment Saxe saw thatthe vast snow slope was in motion, and that they were being carried byit downward toward the valley, a couple of thousand yards below.
Everything happened so quickly that the boy had no time to feel alarm.One quick thought darted through his brain,--that they would be carriedso far down that they would have to make a long detour. Then his armwas seized by Melchior, and a sound above him made him gaze upward, tosee that the snow was forming in long folds, like waves, upon the slope,and threatening to curve over and bury them. Then their speedincreased, the rolling sound rose into a terrific roar, and the boyfully grasped the fact that they had started an avalanche, and werebeing hurried downward to destruction.
"Can't we--we--"
Saxe said no more, for at that moment a rush of snow swept by them as ifborne upon the wings of some terrible tempest, and in the midst of thesuffocating sensation he felt himself sinking lower and lower. The snowwas at his waist; then, as he was borne swiftly down, at his breast; andthe next instant at his lips; and all the while he was gliding downwardat railway speed.
"Melk! Help!" he cried hoarsely, as he was twisted violently round andborne down backward; and then the snow seemed to leap right over him,and all was dark.
What followed was blind confusion, in which Saxe struggled to fight backthe snow, so that he could breathe, for the sense of suffocation wasterrible. Then all at once the rapid gliding motion ceased, and in thedarkness he felt as if he were being held tightly in some terribleembrace, which closed round him slowly and surely, till only his armswere at liberty, and with these he fought.
And now he found that he still held the ice-axe that had been hiscompanion all day. It was stretched right out above him as far as hecould reach, and, as he moved it, to his intense joy he could see a paleray of light, one which increased as he moved the axe again, telling himthat, though he was buried, the head of the axe was above the level ofthe snow.
His first efforts were to enlarge the hole that ran right up, verylittle larger than the handle of the axe, though the beating with hishand had formed quite a little hollow about his head.
"The snow has stopped, and I am only buried so deep," he thought tohimself, as the horrible feeling of panic began to subside. "If I canmake that hole bigger, so as to be able to breathe, I ought soon to beable to creep out."
He worked away, enlarging the hole a little; but he had to observe thegreatest caution, for fear of filling the little perpendicular tunnelwith the loose snow. It was but little, still it enabled him to breathemore freely; and as soon as he reached this pitch he began to strive toraise himself, first one leg and then the other, to force himself out tothe surface.
And now the feeling of horror, which had passed away for the moment,returned, as he grasped the fact that the loose snow, in which he hadbeen swept down, had been pressed together by the weight above it, tillto his waist he felt as if he were enclosed in solid ice.
In spite of his position the perspiration broke out upon his forehead,and the wild horror which seized him nearly robbed him of his sensestill the reaction came.
"Melchior and Mr Dale will seek for me and dig me out," he thought. "Imust listen till I hear them, and then shout."
He grew calmer now, and listened; but all was perfectly still, and achill struck through him as he asked himself a terrible question--
"Where were his companions!"
He had been plodding on, he remembered, with Mr Dale behind him; but hehad not seen a sign of his companion since, though he had seen Melchior,who had caught him by the wrist, and then--
"Yes: what then?"
He could remember no more, only that horrible confusion as they werecarried down, till he was fighting for breath, buried at the bottom ofthe drift.
Saxe listened again, straining his ears for the faintest sound, buthearing nothing.
"They must have been carried farther," he tried to think; "and as soonas they can climb up they will begin to seek for me;" and he repeatedthis cheering thought to fight back another, which was vague, strangeand terrible--a thought which suggested the impossibility of two peoplediscovering the tiny hole made by the head of an ice-axe in the midst ofthe snow of that tremendous avalanche.
"I don't care; I will not give up hoping," he said to himself, as hemoved the ice-axe gently, and saw a ray or two more light. Then hebegan to wonder whether the heat of his body would melt enough of thesnow-ice about him to enable him to work his way out; and in this hopehe waited and rested for a few minutes, for the exertion even of movingthe axe seemed to set his heart beating fast.
Then once more the feeling of horror grew more terrible than he couldbear; and he was fast succumbing to it and losing his senses, when hefancied that he heard a cry.
It ceased directly; and then, as he listened with every nerve on thestrain, there it was again--faint, apparently very distant, but plainlyenough--the jodel of some Swiss, if it were not that of the guide.
Throwing his head back as far as he could, and keeping the axe handletight against the side of the narrow hole, Saxe sent up a despairing cryfor help.
As he ceased he made a desperate struggle to free himself, but it wasuseless; and he listened again and to his great joy the jodel cameagain, and he answered it.
Then there was a terrible period of suspense; and, as no sound washeard, he yelled with all his might, and this time there was undoubtedlyan answering call.
Once more he shouted, and a hail came from nearer; and then, to hisdespair, it was repeated from farther away, making the unfortunateprisoner utter a despairing cry of rage, which had the effect ofbringing the sound once more nearer and nearer still, and at last soclose that he knew it was Melchior's voice which cried--
"Now, once more shout. Where are you?"
Saxe's lips parted, and he drew in his breath in the excitement andrelief of feeling that help was so close at hand; but no sound wouldcome save a low, hoarse gasp, and then a giddy sensation came over him,and once more all was darkness.