“Wait a bit, Saxe, and you’ll see plenty of falling rock. I dare say we shall be cannonaded by stones some day.”
“But shall we see an avalanche!”
“It’s a great chance if we see one of the great falls which fill valleys and bury villages; but if you keep your eyes open I dare say we shall see several small ones to-day.”
The lad glanced quickly up, and the meaning of that look was read directly.
“No,” said Dale quietly, “I am not joking, but speaking frankly to one whom I have chosen as my companion in this enterprise. Come, Saxe, you and I must now be more like helpmates—I mean, less of man and boy, more like two men who trust each other.”
“I shall be very glad,” said the boy eagerly.
“Then we start so from this moment. We’ll forget you are only sixteen or seventeen.”
“Nearly seventeen.”
“Yes. For, without being gloomy, we must be serious. As Melchior says, ‘the mountains are solemn in their greatness.’ Look!”
They had just turned the corner of a huge buttress of rock, and Dale pointed up the valley to the wonderful panorama of mountain and glacier which suddenly burst upon their view. Snowy peak rising behind green alps dotted with cattle, and beyond the glittering peak other pyramids and spires of ice with cols and hollows full of unsullied snow, like huge waves suddenly frozen, with their ridges, ripples, and curves preserved.