The Crystal Hunters: A Boy's Adventures in the Higher Alps
Page 24
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
A GREAT CALL ON A BOY.
Saxe's depression was only very temporary. As his breath, short fromexertion, began to come more regularly, his thoughts dropped back fromthe tangle of weak helplessness into their proper common-sense groove.
Going to Dale, he turned him over on to his back, and then went toMelchior, who lay motionless; but he was quite sensible, and spoke.
Saxe drew out the flask, and poured a few drops between Dale's lips.Then, returning to the guide, he treated him in the same manner beforeclasping the poor fellow's hand between both his own, and crying in achoking voice--
"Oh, Melchior! Thank God--thank God!"
"Ja, herr," said the poor fellow in a whisper, as he reverted to hisnative tongue: "Gott sei dank!"
Just then Dale began to recover, and uttered a low groan; butconsciousness came with one stride, and he sat up, looked sharply round,and said sharply--
"Surely I did not swoon? Ah! I was utterly exhausted. Well, Melchior,lad," he continued, with a forced laugh, "you are no light weight; butwe tested the two ropes well. However did you get down to this place?"
"Don't ask me now, herr," said the guide. "I am weak, and want rest.Will you let me grasp your hand?"
"My dear fellow!" cried Dale eagerly, and he seized and held the poorfellow's hand in both of his. "Now, how are you? Can you get up andwalk?"
"Oh, yes, herr; and the sooner the better, for I am wet, and it is socold: I am nearly benumbed."
"Here, let's help you," cried Dale, and he and Saxe passed their armsunder the poor fellow's shoulders and raised him up.
"Thank you--thank you!" he said. "It is the cold that makes me sohelpless. Let me sit on that block for a few minutes while you coil upthe ropes."
This was done; and then the question arose--whereabouts on the glacierwere they?
"I think I know," said the guide, rather feebly.
"Yes: but you are not fit to move," said Saxe.
"I must move, young herr," replied the man sadly. "To stay as I ammeans a terrible illness, perhaps death. But I shall fight it down.The movement will send life into me. Now, have you the axes? Please togive me mine, and I shall creep along. We must get to the tent and afire somehow."
"But you cannot lead, Melchior."
"I will lead, herr," he replied, as he rested on Saxe's shoulder. "Herein the mountains man must exert himself if he wishes to live. Thisway."
To the astonishment of both he used his ice-axe as a walking-stick,holding it by the steel head, striking the spike at the end of thehandle into the slippery floor, and walking slowly but steadily on alongthe edge of the crevasse.
Saxe felt a strong inclination to go back and peer down into the blackdepths again, but he had to resist it, and, carrying the lanthorn, hefollowed close behind Melchior, with one hand raised, ready to snatch athim if he seemed disposed to fall.
It was very dark now, and the light from the lanthorn was reflected in afaint, sickly way from the ghostly-looking masses of ice as theythreaded their way onward, the guide whispering to them to be silent andcareful, as many of the huge pinnacles were unsteady.
But, in spite of their cautious procedure, one mass tottered over andcame down with an awful crash just as Dale had passed; and the fallingof this meant the destruction of a couple of others, the noise of theirsplintering raising an echo in the narrow gorge which ran upwardreverberating like thunder.
Melchior did not speak, but hurried on, and, turning the end of thecrevasse, led them diagonally off the ice and down into the narrow stonyway between it and the walls of the valley.
Here he let himself sink down on a smooth slope of rock, to remainseated for a moment or two and then lie right down upon his back.
"It is nothing, herr," he said quietly,--"only weariness. May I beg forsomething?"
"Yes: what can we do!" cried Dale.
"Fill your pipe for me, herr, and light it. My tobacco is so wet itwill not burn."
"Of course," cried Dale.
"Hadn't we better give him some more water?" whispered Saxe.
"No, herr," said the guide; "no more. That which you gave me broughtlife back to me: it would do no more good now. Let me rest and smokeawhile--not many minutes. Then I can go on."
The pipe was filled and handed to the poor fellow, who held it withtrembling fingers to the opened lanthorn; and as soon as he had lit itand begun to smoke, he said feebly--
"Have you matches, herr!"
"Yes, plenty."
He blew out the light.
"We do not want that now," he said, handing it back to Saxe, and lyingback again, to go on smoking rapidly. "The warmth is coming back to mylimbs," he continued. "I shall be able to walk better, herrs, and itwill be best for me."
"Then you think you can reach the tent to-night?" said Dale.
"Oh yes: we will reach it, herr. It is not so very far now. There willbe a fire, and hot coffee, and rugs to cover us from the cold. Oh yes:we are all faint and hungry."
"But look here, Melk," said Saxe, "suppose I go down and fetch up somewood and the coffee?"
"No, herr: it is life to me to get down to camp. There!" he cried,making an effort and rising, "I am getting stronger now. It is hardwork to walk, but it is best for me after what I have gone through."
Saxe looked at the dark figure before him with a feeling almost of awe,and his desire was intense to begin questioning; but he restrainedhimself, waiting till Melchior himself should begin, and following downover the rugged and slippery stones for what seemed to be a wearyinterminable time. A dozen times over the boy felt as if, regardless ofthe cold, and the knowledge that it was freezing sharply, he must throwhimself down and sleep. But there was the dark figure of the patientguide before him, struggling slowly along, and fighting against the painand exhaustion that nearly overcame him, and he took heart and stumbledon till he felt as if all the trouble through which he had passed thatevening were a dream, of which this was the nightmare-like following,and at last he followed the guide nearly asleep.
How long they had been walking Saxe could not tell, but he roused upsuddenly as a peculiar cry rang out somewhere close at hand.
"What's that?" he cried excitedly.
"The mule trumpeting a welcome back," cried Dale. "We are close therenow;" and, in effect, five minutes after they were in the shelterednook, where Melchior stumbled to the tent and dropped down under itsshelter.
"Quick, Saxe! The fire and hot coffee for the poor fellow!"
Saxe was wakeful enough now, and in a very short time the coffee kettlewas steaming, while the fire threw strange shadows on the rocky wall.
Dale had not been idle. His first proceeding had been to throw a coupleof rugs over their companion, who in due time sat up to drink the hotcoffee with avidity. He could only eat a few morsels of bread, but hepartook of the coffee again, and then sank back to drop into a heavysleep, and Saxe and Dale sat watching him for some time, forgettingtheir own mental and bodily weariness in their anxiety respecting thepoor fellow's state. But after bending over him several times, andalways with the same satisfactory discovery that the sufferer wassleeping easily and well, both Dale and Saxe yielded to their own desireto lie down, carrying on a conversation one minute and the next to besleeping as heavily as the guide.