“Oh yes, herr; and he cannot turn.”
“Then we must get by him and go on and leave him to follow.”
“Impossible, herr,” yelled Melchior. “If we tried he might kick.”
“Go and coax him.”
“It is no use, herr. The poor beast is right. He says in his way that it is not safe to go on, and that we must wait.”
“Wait in a place like this!” cried Dale. “The water is icy, and the noise deafening. Can you recollect how much the path goes down beyond the mule?”
“I don’t think it goes down at all, herr.”
“Then the water must be rising,” cried Dale excitedly; and the guide nodded.
“We must not be caught in this terrible trap. I thought the water was sinking.”
“It was, herr; but there must have been a fresh fall of rain at the other end of the lake, and it is rising now fast.”