CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
A RESCUE.
For a few moments Dale and Saxe knelt together there, with their heartsthrobbing wildly at their discovery. There was a bewildering train ofthoughts, too, running through their minds, as to how the poor fellowcould have got there; and Saxe could only find bottom in one idea--thatthey had been confusedly wandering about, returning another way, tillthey had accidentally hit upon a further development of the greatcrevasse into which the guide had fallen.
All this was momentary, and then Dale was speaking.
"He must be a long way off to the right here, cutting his way up, andthe ice conducted the sound. Come,--carefully. It would be terrible ifyou slipped."
"I sha'n't slip!" cried Saxe firmly, and he followed on.
"Ahoy!" shouted Dale. "Where are you?"
"Here!" came from the right still, but apparently from the other side,the voice sounding hollow and strange.
Dale caught Saxe's arm.
"Are we on the wrong side of the crevasse!" he muttered. But he went onfor another twenty yards and called.
The answer still came from the right, but not from the opposite side,the former effect being simply reverberation. Another thirty yards orso brought them to where the hollow-sounding voice seemed to come upfrom straight below them; and they lay down to speak.
"Don't ask questions about how he came there. Let me speak only,"whispered Dale. "Where are you?" he shouted.
"Nearly below you, herr," came up feebly. "So cold and faint."
"Hold on," shouted Dale. "Now, Saxe, the ball of string and thelanthorn. Light it quickly."
The boy's hands trembled so that he could hardly obey, and two matcheswere spoiled by the touch of his wet fingers before the lamp burnedbright and clear.
Meanwhile Dale had been securing the lanthorn to the end of the string.
"Melchior," he shouted, "I'm sending you down the light."
His words were short and sharp, and now he lay down and began to lowerthe lanthorn rapidly, its clear flame reflected from the ice wall, andrevealing bit by bit the horrors of the terrible gulf, with itsperpendicular walls.
Down, down, down went the lamp, till Saxe's heart sank with it, and witha look of despair he watched it and that which it revealed,--for hecould see that it would be impossible for anyone to climb the ice wall,and the lamp had gone down so far that it was beyond the reach of theirrope.
"Terribly deep down," said Dale, half aloud, as he watched thedescending lanthorn.
"Ah! I see him!" cried Saxe. "He is just below the light, on thatledge. Yes, and the ice slopes down from there."
"Can you get it?" cried Dale loudly. "Not yet, herr," came up feebly."Lower."
"There is not much more string, Saxe," whispered Dale: "get the ropeready."
But before this could be done the feeble voice from below cried, "Hold!"and they could see, at a terrible depth, the lanthorn swinging, and thenthere was the clink of metal against metal, and a horrible cry and ajarring blow.
"He has fallen!" cried Saxe. "No: he has got hold, and is climbingback."
Faintly as it was seen, it was plain enough to those who watched withthrobbing pulses. The lanthorn had been beyond Melchior's reach, and ashe lay there on a kind of shelf or fault in the ice, he had tried tohook the string toward him with his ice-axe, slipped, and would havegone headlong down lower, but for the mountaineer's instinctive effortto save himself by striking his axe-pick into the ice.
No one spoke, but every pulse was throbbing painfully as the man'sactions were watched, down far beneath them, he seeming to be in thecentre of a little halo of light, while everything around was pitchyblack.
"He has got it," muttered Saxe, after a painful pause; and then theyheard the clink of the ice against the lanthorn, and saw the lattermove, while directly after, from out of the silence below, there camethe sound of a deeply drawn breath. "Can you hold on there?" said Dalethen, sharply. "A little while, herr. I am cold, but hope will putlife in me." Dale waited a few minutes, and Saxe touched himimploringly. "What shall we do?" he whispered. "Shall I go for help?"
"No. Get your axe, and begin cutting some foothold for us: three orfour good deep, long notches, about a yard apart. Begin six or eightfeet away from the edge. We want purchase to pull him out."
"But the rope--the rope!" cried Saxe. "Do as I tell you."
Saxe obeyed without a word, driving the pick-end into the ice, andmaking the chips fly in the grey light of evening, for the shadows werenow falling fast; and as the lad worked and cut the deep groove, Dalebent over the crevasse and spoke.
"Better!" he said.
"Yes, herr: more life in me now."
"Have you your rope?"
Saxe stopped to listen for the answer, and, though it was only a matterof moments, he suffered agonies of expectation before he heard theanswer.
"Yes."
"Take off the lanthorn and stand it by you, or fasten it to your belt."
"Yes, herr."
"Make fast your rope to the string, and let me draw it up."
"It will not reach, herr."
"I know. I have mine."
There was a pause only broken by the chipping of the ice-axe, and thenthe voice came up again in a hollow whisper--
"Ready!"
"If it will only bear it," muttered Dale, as he steadily drew upon thestring, hand over hand, expecting moment by moment that it would part.But it bore the weight of the rope well, and in a few minutes he wasable to lift the coil over the edge on to the glacier.
Saxe heard him give a sigh of relief as he bent down and drew it away;but he turned back to the crack directly, and shouted down in slow,solemn words--
"Keep a good heart man, and if it is to be done we'll save you."
"With God's help, herr," came up; and the voice sounded to Saxe, as hetoiled away, less despairing.
"Now!" cried Dale, speaking quickly and excitedly: "pray with me, lad,that these two ropes together may be long enough. Quick! Out with yourknife."
Saxe obeyed, and stood ready while Dale rapidly joined the two ropestogether; but, not content with his knot, he cut off a couple of piecesof string, and rapidly bound down the loose ends so that they should byno possibility slip through the loops.
This done, and Saxe once more cutting the grooves he was making moredeeply, Dale rapidly ran Melchior's rope through his hands, and made aknot and slip-noose.
"Keep on cutting," he said to Saxe. "No: a better idea. Pick a hole--there!" He stamped his foot in the place he meant. "Small and deep, soas to turn your axe into an anchor if we want its help. Work--hard!"
Saxe drove his axe down on to the ice with vigour, blow after blowsending the tiny crystals flying, while he had to fight down the intensedesire to leave off and watch the rescue, as Dale began to lower thenoose he had made.
"Is it long enough?--is it long enough?" he muttered, as he rapidlypassed the rope through his hands, Saxe giving a side glance from timeto time as he picked away.
Down went the whole length of the guide's line, and the knot passedDale's hands, after which the weight was sufficient to draw down the newrope, whose rings uncoiled rapidly, and, as their number grew fewer,Saxe breathed hard, and he echoed Dale's words, "Will it be longenough?"
The last coil but three--the last coil but two--the last coil but one--the last coil; and Dale's nervous right hand closed upon the very end,and he went close to the brink and looked down at the light.
"Can you reach it?" he shouted.
There was a pause, and then the voice came up--
"No! Lower a little more."
Dale groaned. Then, lying down, he held his hands close to the edge,giving quite another three feet to the length.
"Can you reach it now?"
"No."
"How far off is it above you?"
There was a pause, and then--
"I can just touch it with the end of my finger. I am lying down, andholding on with one hand and
my ice-axe. If I could use my axe, I couldpull it down."
"No, no!" shouted Dale. "The rope is all out. Stop: if I give youanother two feet, can you get your arm well through the noose I havemade, and hang on?"
"I will try."
"Come here, Saxe. I am going to lean over the edge and hold the ropedown as far as I can reach. Drive the head of your axe into the holeyou have made, and hold on with one hand; take hold of my ankle with theother. There will be no strain upon you, but it will give me strengthby holding me in my place."
The axe was driven in to hold like an anchor, and Saxe shuddered as heheld by the handle and took a good grip of Dale by thrusting his fingersin at the top of his heavy mountaineering boot.
Then Dale shuffled himself as far over the brink as he dared, andstretched his arms down to their full extent.
"Now: can you do it?"
Another terrible pause.
"No, herr."
Dale groaned, and was wondering whether he could achieve his aim bydrawing up the rope, re-knotting it, and making the noose smaller, butjust then Melchior spoke.
"If I could free my ice-axe, I could hook on to it, herr. I can see theloop quite plainly, but I dare not stir--I can only move one hand."
"Wait!" cried Dale. "Ice-axe!"
He drew back, hauled up some of the rope, knelt upon it to keep it fast,and picked up his ice-axe, while Saxe watched him with dilated eyes, ashe made a knot and passed the axe handle through to where the steel headstopped it like a cross. Then, cutting off more string, he bound theend of the rope to the handle of his axe, doubly and triply, so thatslipping was impossible.
This took up nearly a foot for the knot; but the handle was nearly fourfeet long, so that by this scheme he gained another yard as an additionto the rope.
"I am at the end of my wits now, Saxe," he said softly; and then, withgrim irony, "There is no need to wet my hands, boy."
"Now, Melchior!" he shouted; "try again!"
He was on his chest as he spoke, with his arms outstretched, holdingtightly by the axe handle.
"Can you reach it?"
Saxe panted, and felt the insides of his hands grow wet and cold as heheld on to his companion and listened for the answer that was terriblylong in coming. The sensation was almost suffocating; he held hisbreath, and every nerve and muscle was on the strain for the words whichseemed as if they would never reach his ears.
"Well?" shouted Dale, in a harsh, angry voice, his word sounding like asnarl.
"Can't quite--can't. Hah! I have it!"
"Hurrah!" burst out Saxe, giving vent in his homely, boyish way to hisexcitement.
Then, feeling ashamed of himself, he was silent and listened for everyword.
"Get your arm right through, above the elbow."
"Yes, herr. Right."
"Pull, to tighten it."
"Yes, herr," came back.
"Ready? Sure it cannot slip?"
"It cuts right into my arm: never slip."
"Now, Saxe, I have him, boy; but Heaven knows whether I can get him up,lying like this. No: it is impossible; I have no strength, and the woodhandle is not like rope."
"Oh!" groaned Saxe.
"If I could get to the rope, you might help me. It is impossible: Icannot lift him so."
"Can you hold on as you are?" said Saxe huskily.
"Yes; but I could not lift--I have no power."
"I must come too, and get hold of the handle. Will the head come off?"
"Hush! No. It is too new and strong. But you could not get hold to doany good. There--come and try."
Saxe unhooked his axe from the ice, for an idea had struck him; and,lying down close to Dale, who uttered a sigh of satisfaction as hegrasped the boy's idea, he lowered down his axe, and hooked the ropewith it just beneath Dale's.
"Good," whispered the latter,--"good. Ready?"
"Yes."
"Draw steadily hand over hand, till we can get the rope over the edge.Then throw your axe back, and take hold of the rope."
"Yes, I understand."
"Now, Melchior, we are going to haul."
There was no reply beyond what sounded like a groan; and the pair at theedge of the crevasse began to tighten the rope gently as they drew uptheir axes, with the weight gradually increasing; they saw by the lightof the lanthorn that they first dragged the poor fellow up into asitting position; and not having the full burden to deal with yet, Dalegot a shorter hold of the axe handle, Saxe doing the same.
"Steady, steady: don't hurry, boy. It is these first moments thatpossess the danger. Once we have the rope I don't mind."
They hauled again hand over hand literally: for in their cribbedposition they could do no more than just pass one hand over the other;but they were gaining ground, and even yet they had not the full weight,for fortunately as they hauled they could see the body swing roundagainst the ice wall, and that Melchior's feet were on the dimly visibleledge.
"Now, Saxe, we have his whole weight coming; so as the strain falls,quick with him, one, two, three, and we shall have the rope. Once I canget that between us on to the edge, we shall have a lot of the drag offour arms. Now--one, two, three!"
How it was done they could neither of them afterwards have fullyexplained; but Saxe had some recollection of tugging at his ice handlein answer to those words of command till he touched the head with onehand, passed his other under it, and had hold of the rope.
"Now your axe!" shouted Dale; and Saxe unhooked it, and flung it behindhim with a clang, as at the same time it felt to him as if his chestwere being drawn slowly over the slippery ice, and that he was movingsurely on into the gulf.
The perspiration stood out in great drops upon his face, his grasp ofthe rope grew more feeble, and the feeling of self-preservation wasthrilling him, when suddenly there was a tremendous reaction; he drew along breath, and was hauling with renewed strength.
It was all nearly momentary, and the reaction came as the boy felt histoes glide into one of the great notches he had cut in the ice.
"Steady, steady," panted Dale. "Oh, if I only had some purchase! Pull,and never mind the skin; get the rope over the edge. Hurrah!"
The rope was over the edge, and just between them, and but for the factthat Dale was able to get the head of his axe beneath his chest, andpress it down on the ice, it would have glided back once more.
"Now, Saxe," he cried, "I can hold him like this for a few moments: theedge helps. Step back and take a grip of the axe handle."
Saxe obeyed, drawing the handle tight, and getting his boot toes inanother of the notches.
"Now," cried Dale, "hold on with all your might while I shuffle back."
"Are you going to leave go?" growled Saxe.
"No."
That negative came like the roar of a wild beast.
"Got him tight," cried Saxe; and he set his teeth and shut his eyes,while, holding on with one hand, Dale shuffled himself back as far as hecould--that is, to the full extent of his arms and the foot of rope hehad dragged over the edge of the ice.
Then he paused for a moment or two.
"Now I want to get rope enough in for you to take hold."
"Will the ice edge cut?"
"No: the rope will cut down a smooth channel in the ice. Ready?--Together."
There was a brief interval of hauling, and several feet were drawn over,so that Saxe was able to get hold of the rope too; and they restedagain, for in that position everything depended on their arms.
"Now I have him," cried Dale. "Hold on with one hand while you reachyour axe, and anchor it in the hole you made."
"Done," cried Saxe.
"Haul again."
They hauled, and another foot or so was gained.
"Now hitch the rope well round the axe handle," cried Dale, "and get ittight."
This was done; the rope being twisted above the band of leather placedto keep the hand from slipping; and with this to take off the stress,Dale was able, while well holding on,
to get to his knees, and then tohis feet, when, planting his heels in one of the grooves cut in the ice,he took a fresh grip of the rope.
"Now, Saxe," he cried; "up with you! Behind me!"
The lad grasped the position, and leaped up and seized the rope behindDale.
"Now, then!--a steady haul together!"
The battle seemed to be nearly won, for the rope glided on steadily overthe ice, cutting pretty deeply the while, but after the first fewseconds apparently without friction.
Foot by foot, a steady pull, till there was a sudden check.
"Hah!" ejaculated Dale. "I see. We are at the end of the new rope, andthe knot has caught in the groove we've made. I can hold him, Saxe.Take your axe, and pick the ice away on one side. Mind! you must nottouch the rope."
Saxe took his axe, and a few strokes with the pointed end broke off agood-sized piece. The knot glided over, and the next minute, with thesame idea inspiring both, they began to haul up Melchior's rope.
Will this last out, and not be broken by the friction?
Foot by foot--foot by foot--till at any moment they felt they would seethe man's hand appear; and all seemed to depend now upon the state inwhich the poor fellow would be in when he reached the surface. If hewere perfectly helpless, the worst part, perhaps, of their task wouldcome. If he could aid, it would be comparatively easy.
At last there was a faint glow of light behind the edge, which grewplainer in the gloom in which they had been working, and directly afterMelchior's hand reached the edge.
Dale was a man of resource, and he was about to call upon Saxe to hitchthe rope round the axe handle once more--that which acted as an anchor--when he saw in the faint glow that the fingers clutched at the edge.
"Haul! haul!" he cried; and as they pulled the whole arm appeared abovethe edge, and was stretched flat on the ice. And the next moment, witha dash, the guide's axe was swung over the edge, and the sharp point dugdown into the glistening surface, giving the poor fellow a slight hold,which, little as it was, proved some help.
It has been said that Dale was a man of resource, and he proved it morethan ever now.
"I can hold him," he cried. "Take the rope, and lower down a big loopright over his head. That's right: lower away." Then, as Saxeresponded quickly, he cried to the guide, "Try if you can get one orboth your legs through the loop."
There was a little scraping and movement before the poor fellow said,hoarsely--
"Through."
"Now, Saxe, twist the rope as quickly as you can, so as to get hold."
Saxe twisted the double rope till the loop closed upon the guide's leg;and then there was a momentary pause.
"Now, ready! When I say haul, try to help us all you can. Haul!"
Saxe had his heel in a groove, and he struggled with all his might,Melchior aiding him so effectually that, as Dale drew the poor fellow'sarm farther, Saxe was able to raise the leg he held to the level; andthe next moment the guide lay prone on the ice with the lanthorn stillburning, and attached to the waist.
"Both together again!" cried Dale hoarsely; and they dragged him a fewyards along the ice perfectly helpless, for he had exhausted himself inthat last effort to reach the surface.
"Take--off--that--that light!" said Dale, in a strange tone of voice;and then, before Saxe could run to his assistance, he staggered towardthe crevasse and fell heavily.
The boy's heart was in his mouth. For the moment it had seemed as ifDale were going headlong down, but he lay a good two feet from the edge,a distance which Saxe increased by drawing him over the ice; and then,himself utterly exhausted, he sank upon his knees helpless as a child,the ice glimmering in a peculiarly weird and ghastly way, the dark skyoverhead--far from all aid--faint and famished from long fasting--andwith two insensible men dumbly appealing to him for his assistance.
It was not at all a matter of wonder that Saxe should say piteously--
"What can I do? Was ever poor fellow so miserable before?"