CHAPTER FIVE.
STRANGE QUARTERS.
Milk, bread, butter and cheese in the rough pine verandah, seated on ahomely bench, with the soft pleasant smell of cows from beneath, and themelodious chiming tinkle of many sweet-toned bells--not the wretched tinor iron jangling affairs secured to sheep or kine in England, buttuneful, well-made bells, carefully strapped to the necks of the cattle,and evidently appreciated by the wearers, several of which stood about,gently swaying their heads, blinking their great soft eyes, ruminating,and waiting their turn with the brawny milkmaid, who rose from hercrouching position from time to time, taking her one-legged stool withher, fastened on and projecting like a peculiar tail.
The light was dying out fast on the peaks around, and they ceased toflash and glow, to become pale and grey, and then ghastly, cold andstrange, as the little party sat enjoying the simple meal and the calmand rest of the peaceful scene. Everything around was so still thatthere was hardly a murmur in the pines; only the hushed roar of therestless river, but subdued now, for its waters were shrinking fast fromthe failure of the supply; for the many thousand trickling rivulets ofmelting snow, born of the hot sunshine of the day, were now being frozenup hard.
The weary feeling that stole over Saxe was very pleasant as he eatthere, with his back against the rough pine boards of the chalet,watching the shadows darkening in the valley, and the falls grow lessand less distinct, while a conversation, which did not trouble him, wenton close by his elbow.
"I think I have pretty well explained what I want, Melchior," Dale wassaying. "I have seen a few specimens of the crystals found up in themountains, and I am convinced that far finer pieces are to be obtainedin the higher parts that have not yet been explored."
The guide was silent for a few minutes as he sat now smoking his pipe.
"The herr is right," he said at last. "I have often seen places where,such treasures may be found. But you are a stranger--I am a Swiss. Isit right that I should help you?"
"When I tell you that I am moved by no ideas of greed, but solely as adiscoverer, and that, as I have before said, your country would be thericher for my find, you ought to be satisfied."
"I should be, herr, only that I do not quite like the secrecy of yourmovements. It is not like anything I have done before, and it troublesme to think that I ought not to tell anybody the object of ourexcursions."
"Tell any curious people that we are making ascents because I amstudying the mountains. It will be the truth; for, understand me, I amnot going alone for this search. I want to find out more concerning theforming of the glaciers, and the gathering of storms on the mountains.There are endless discoveries to be made, and ascents to be attempted.You will show me mountains that have not yet been climbed."
"I will show the herr all he wishes, and keep his counsel loyally," saidMelchior. "No one shall know anything about our search. Look, herr:the Alpen glow!"
A slight rustling sound beneath the verandah had just taken Saxe'sattention, and he was wondering whether any one was in the low stonecowhouse over which the chalet was built--from the economical ideas ofthe people, who make one roof do for both places, and give to theircattle an especially warm winter house--when the guide's words rousedhim from his drowsy state, and he started up to gaze at the rather rarephenomenon before him.
A short time before the various mountain peaks had stood up, dimly-seen,shadowy grey and strange, the more distant dying out in the gatheringgloom. Now it was as if a sudden return of the golden sunset had thrownthem up again, glowing with light and colour, but with a softness anddelicacy that was beautiful in the extreme.
"All that's bright must fade," said Dale, with a sigh. "I wonder whatour English friends would say to that, Saxe!"
"What I do,--that it's lovely. Is it like this every night?"
"No," replied Melchior, refilling his pipe; "it is only at times. Somesay it means storms in the mountains; some that it is to be fineweather."
"And what do you say, Melchior?" asked Dale.
"I say nothing, herr. What can a man who knows the mountains say, butthat this is a place of change? Down here in the valley it has been asoft bright summer day, whilst up yonder in the mountains storm and snowhave raged, and the icy winds have frozen men to death. Another day Ihave left the wind howling and the rain beating and the great blackclouds hanging low; and in an hour or two I have climbed up to sunshine,warmth and peace."
"But you mountaineers know a great deal about the weather and itschanges."
"A little, herr," said the guide, smiling--"not a great deal. It isbeyond us. We know by the clouds and mists high above the mountainswhen it is safe to go and when to stay; for if we see long-drawn andrugged clouds hanging about the points and trailing down the cols andover each icy grat, we know there is a tempest raging and we do not go.There is not much wisdom in that. It is very simple, and--Look! theyoung herr is fast asleep. Poor boy!--it has been a tiring day. Shallwe go to rest?"
"Yes," said Dale, laying his hand on Saxe's shoulder. "Come, boy, rouseup and let's go to bed."
"Eh? What? Where? Sliding down and--Did you speak, Mr Dale?" saidSaxe, after starting up and babbling excitedly for a moment or two, justfresh from his dreams.
"Wake up! I'm going to bed."
"Wake up, of course," said Saxe tetchily. "Mustn't a--?"
He stopped short, colouring a little; and at that moment he turnedsharply, for there was a loud sneeze from below, and directly after ayoungish man, with a lowering look and some bits of hay sticking in hishair, came out from the cowhouse and slouched by the front, glancing upwith half-shut eyes towards the occupants of the verandah, on his way toa low stone-built shingle-roofed place, from which sundry bleatings toldthat it was the refuge of the herd of goats.
Saxe was too sleepy to think then, and their host being summoned, heshowed them through the chalet into a long low room with a sloping roofand boarded floor, in two corners of which lay a quantity of clean hayand twigs of some dry heathery-looking plant.
"Gute nacht," he said briefly, and went out, leaving the door open.
"Do we sleep here?" said Saxe, yawning. "No beds no chests of drawers,no washstands, no carpets."
"No, boy: nothing but clean hay and a roof over our heads," repliedDale. "Shall you mind?"
"Mind?" said Saxe, plumping himself down in the hay. "Well, it seems soqueer. I can't undress and lie in this stuff: see how it would tickle.It is pretty soft, though, and--Oh! murder!"
"What's the matter?" cried Dale excitedly: "some insect?"
"No, it's a jolly old stumpy thistle, like the top of a young pineapple.It did prick.--Yes, it is pretty soft, and it smells nice, and heigh hohum! how tired I am!"
"You'll take the other corner, Melchior," said Dale; "I'll lie here.There is no occasion to fasten the door, I suppose?"
"Fasten the door!" said the guide, with a quiet laugh. "Oh no. Theonly intruder likely to come is the wind, and he might open it and bangit, but he will not be abroad to-night. Look!"
"Look! what at?"
The guide pointed to the corner where Saxe had lain down, making apillow of his arm.
Dale smiled.
"Comfortable, Saxe boy?"
There was no reply. The hay made a pleasant, sweetly scented couch.Saxe was fast asleep.
The Crystal Hunters: A Boy's Adventures in the Higher Alps Page 5
