CHAPTER EIGHT.

  AN AWKWARD ACCIDENT.

  "I sat!" cried Saxe, as the guide led on again, and the mule followedpatiently enough.

  "Yes, herr."

  "Suppose two goats were to meet here, what would they do!"

  "One would lie down and the other jump over him."

  "But suppose it were two mules?"

  "I don't know, herr. One of them might make the other back all the way;but mules are stubborn, and I'm afraid that one would push the otheroff."

  "And what then?"

  "He would swim for awhile, and then drown."

  "Why," said Saxe, "I thought this lake was very beautiful; but you seemto be taking all the blue out of it. Ugh! why, it would be like fallinginto a well and trying to get out. I shall be glad to get away fromthis place."

  "That's imagination, Saxe," said Dale; "and imagination is something allmountaineers should leave behind."

  "Why?" said Saxe argumentatively.

  "Don't go so near to the mule's heels: if he kicks you, nothing couldsave you from a fall into the lake."

  "That's imagination, sir," said Saxe, laughing; "and imagination issomething all mountaineers should leave behind."

  Dale frowned, but laughed directly after.

  "Pert, but smart, Saxe," he said. "Seriously, though, a mountainclimber, who must naturally be often walking along risky places, hasenough to think about without indulging in fancies of what might be ifthis happened or that took place. Such thoughts may unnerve him; andyou may depend upon it, some of the bravest things are done by those whothink the least. I remember, one day in London, seeing the men takingdown one of those vast scaffolds formed, not of poles, but of squaretimbers bolted together; and I saw one man, about a hundred and fiftyfeet from the ground, standing on one of these pieces of timber, whichwas fastened to an upright at each end. He was looking on while anotherworkman unscrewed one of the bolts which held it."

  "How wide was it?" said Saxe, looking down at the narrow shelf of rockupon which he was walking.

  "About ten inches, I suppose. There was nothing near him, for he was onthe very top of the scaffolding, which swayed a little with the weightof the wood; but he seemed perfectly cool and comfortable up there, andafter a few minutes he turned and walked along it to the other end,while I, who have often gone along dangerous ledges of ice, felt myhands turn wet inside."

  "With fright?"

  "Call it nervousness," said Dale. "No: call it fear or fright. Ofcourse I imagined that at any moment the poor fellow might turn giddyand fall. But if that beam had been lying on the pavement, any onewould have walked or run along it without hesitation, for there is noquestion of balancing on a piece of flat wood ten inches wide. Theimagination is the danger."

  "Then sailors can't have any imagination," said Saxe thoughtfully.

  "It is to be hoped not, of that kind. If they ever thought of falling,they would never be able to run along the yards of a big ship as theydo."

  "Well, I'll try and not have any imagination," said Saxe. "I shouldn'tlike you to say you wished that you had not brought me, for you couldnot go anywhere you wanted because I was such a coward."

  "I trust to you to be neither cowardly nor rash," said Dale, "and youmay trust to me not to take you into more dangerous places than I canhelp. But it really is a matter of habit. Why, people never think ofthe danger, but every time they run up or downstairs they risk a severefall; and I once knew of a sailor lad, accustomed to go aloft and climbover the bulwarks into the main chains or the rigging under thebowsprit, who would pull all the clothes off his bed of a night and makethem up on the floor, because he was afraid of tumbling out of bed inthe night. Hah! we are getting near the end of the lake. Why, Saxe, itdoes look black and deep!"

  "But I don't see any place where it runs out," said Saxe. "There oughtto be a river or a waterfall here, oughtn't there!"

  "Wait a few minutes, and we shall see. Ah! to be sure--there it is; thesides are so close together that they hardly show, but you can see nowwhere the ledge runs, right to that corner."

  A hundred yards farther along the narrow ledge--a fault in the stratawhich formed that side of the lake--and all doubt of their being at theexit of the waters was at rest, for Melchior stopped short where theledge widened into a little platform at the angle of the rock formingone of the sides of a mere crack in the titanic wall of perpendicularmountain, which in places actually overhung them, and ran up fully athousand feet.

  The opening where they stood was some twenty feet wide, and through itthe waters of the lake poured with a low rushing sound, which seemed todeepen farther in to a roar.

  Saxe was pressing forward to look in at the opening; but Melchior metthem and pointed back over the lake, at the head of which rose a hugemountain mass, snow-clad and glistening, on either side of whichglaciers could be seen running sharply down, while away on the leftanother winding, frozen river descended.

  "Grand!" exclaimed Dale; but the next moment he turned to the opening bywhich they stood, the rushing waters having a weird fascination for themboth.

  "The schlucht," said Melchior quietly.

  "I say," said Saxe: "you don't mean to say we've got to go throughthere?"

  "Yes," said the guide calmly. "I have never taken a mule through, but Ithink we can manage it."

  "But is it all like this?" said Saxe, looking aghast.

  "Oh no, herr; it runs together a few yards farther in, and is so narrowthat in one place you can stretch your arms and touch both sides atonce."

  "Then it is open right through?"

  "Yes, herr. The mountain must have split open at some time or other, tolet the water of the lake run out."

  "Yes; and how far is it through?" said Dale.

  "About a mile: less than half an hour."

  "And this ledge goes right along?"

  "Just as it has run by the side of the lake, herr. A little narrowersometimes."

  "But you say the gorge--the crack--gets narrower directly."

  "Oh yes--much, herr. It is never so wide as this."

  "But the water: is there room for it?"

  "The crack or split in the rocks must be very deep down, for all thewater from the lake runs through here, and it's quite a big river on theother side."

  "And what other way is there, Melchior?" asked Saxe.

  "The way we came."

  "No other?"

  The guide shook his head.

  "What do you think of it, Saxe? Will you venture?"

  The lad drew a long breath, and said, through his teeth--

  "Yes. I'm not going to be beaten by a mule!"

  "Go on, then," said Dale quietly, "and as soon as we are through we musthave a halt for a meal."

  "Not as soon as we are through, herr," said Melchior, smiling; and hebegan to unfasten the mule's girths.

  "What are you doing?" cried Saxe.

  "Taking off the pannier," replied the guide. "The ledge is narrowfarther in, and it would be awkward if the basket caught against therock. It might cause him to make a false step, and it would be a badplace to fall in."

  "Bad place? Horrible!" said Dale, frowning.

  "But, I say, you can't leave the basket behind with all the victuals,"cried Saxe.

  "No, herr; as soon as the mule is through, I shall come back and fetchit."

  "We two must carry it between us, slung on the alpenstocks," said Dale.

  "No, herr, I will manage it all," said Melchior quietly. "I can soonfetch the basket, and it will be better. The young herr will want allhis activity to get along without a load. I have been here four timesbefore. I should have been five times; but one May the snow had meltedafter a great rain, and the lake was so full that the waters were feetabove the pathway, and they rushed through, so that the great walls ofrock shook as if they would fall in. There," he said, removing themule's load and carrying it two or three yards back, to place it againstthe natural wall. "It will be quite safe there," he continued, with
asmile; "nobody will come. Ah, Gros, my friend, is that cool andrestful?"

  The mule whinnied, arched up its back, and shook itself, swung back itshead, first one side then on the other, to bite at the hot place wherethe basket had been, but apparently without allaying the hot irritationwhich troubled it.

  "Ah! come along Gros," cried Melchior, twining the rope bridle about hisarm; "that will soon be better. Follow pretty close, gentlemen: it israther dark, but cool and pleasant after the hot sunshine."

  "Well done, Saxe!" said Dale, with a smile; "that's brave."

  "What is, sir? I did not say or do anything."

  "Yes, you did, boy," whispered Dale; and the lad flushed a little. "Youbit your lips and then set your teeth, and you said to yourself, `hesha'n't see that I am afraid!' Didn't you?"

  Saxe looked at him inquiringly, and took off his cap and wiped his brow,while his alpenstock rested in the hollow of his arm.

  "Something like it, sir," said Saxe, rather dolefully. "I couldn't helpit."

  "Of course not."

  "Ach! Dummkopf! What do you do?" cried the guide angrily; for just atthat moment the mule uttered a loud squeal, arched its back, and leapedoff the rock; came down on all fours, and then threw itself upon itsflanks, in spite of a jerk at the bridle; squealed again, and threw upits legs, which fell back against the rocky wall; threw them up again,and for a moment they were perpendicular, so well was the balance kept,as the animal wriggled its spine so as to get a good rub on the rock.Then, while the two travellers realised the danger of this taking placeon the narrow platform, not a dozen feet above the rushing water, andMelchior still jerked at the bridle, over went the animal's legs towardthe edge, and it tried to gather them up for another roll.

  It had another roll, but it was a roll off the edge, and almost beforeDale and his companion could fully grasp the extent of the accident, themule fell with a tremendous splash into the stream, jerking Melchiorafter it by the wrist. Then they both disappeared. But only for a fewmoments.

  "Look! look!" yelled Saxe, as the mule's head shot up in the shadowthirty or forty feet farther in, so swift was the current. Then up cameits forelegs, and it began to paw the water like a drowning dog, just asMelchior rose to the surface, but only in time to receive the hoofs ofthe struggling mule on his chest, and he disappeared again, while thewater rolled the mule over and down out of sight.

  The next moment both were swept right into the gloomy cavernous place,to what was evidently certain death.