“Is it the advance-guard of an avalanche?”
“Without snow, herr? No.”
“Come and eat your bread and cheese, Melk,” cried Saxe; “it is only a loose stone tumbled down, and no one was hit.”
“But I cannot eat, herr, with the knowledge that some one is hurling down stones upon our heads. Do you know that either of those falling stones would have killed us?”
“Yes, but they did not hit us,” said Saxe.
“But surely there is no one up there to hurl down stones?” said Dale.
“I don’t know, herr,” said the guide, shaking his head.
“But you said you thought it was a chamois,” cried Saxe.
“I did, herr, but I’m afraid I was wrong. I am not a believer in such things; but some of our people would say that the spirits of the mountains are displeased with us for coming here, and are throwing stones to drive us back.”
“They’re pretty strong, then, to throw such stones as that,” said Saxe, with his mouth full of Swiss cheese.