The torrent tore along so furiously that in the time specified the little party made a start, and then paused again as they reached the place where the ledge descended into the water. For the stream rushed along heavily as Melchior began to wade; and he once more uncoiled and passed the rope.
“It is heavy going,” he shouted; “but every minute it will be better, for after a little while the path rises quite high.”
They started again, and Saxe felt his heart beat heavily as the water rose to his knees and he could feel its soft strong push against him; but he forgot all this the next moment, on hearing Melchior give vent to his feelings in a long, loud jodel, which sounded strange enough in the awful rift, with an accompaniment of the noise of rushing waters, but not half so strange as the curious whinnying half-squeal, half-neigh, that came back from a little way ahead.
For there, dimly-seen, was the mule, standing just as they had left him; and as they approached he signified his joy by a very near approach to a bray.
“And you said you saw him swept by!” cried Dale.
“I saw a leg and a bit of back,” said Melchior; “but it might have belonged to any poor drowned beast swept out of the lake. Why, Gros! old Gros!” he cried, wading up to the mule, “this is the grandest sight I’ve had these many days!” while the mule literally squealed and stamped, sending the water flying in its delight at hearing human voices again.
But a good hour passed before the cautious animal—as if assured by its own instinct that the way was safe—began to advance, and in a short time was upon the clear ledge, trudging steadily along, Melchior following with his load, till the bright daylight was seen ahead, and they came to a halt on the platform whence Gros had fallen and dragged in his leader.
The rest of the journey was easily performed, Gros bearing his lightened load on along the edge of the lake, and past the place where Dale had searched for gold, till the vale at the foot of the great glacier was neared, when the mule set up a loud squealing, which was answered by the donkey’s bray and a lowing from the cows.
Then Melchior jodelled, and it was responded to from the chalet, where Andregg, his wife, and Pierre were standing watching, and ready to prepare a comfortable meal and usher Gros into the shelter in the lower part of the place.
In another hour Saxe was lying upon his bed of sweet-scented hay half asleep, thinking of all he had gone through since he last lay there, and ready to ask himself whether it was not all a dream. Then suddenly consciousness failed, and he was really in the land of dreams.