“A mill? I don’t see it.”
“Moulin. No, no—not a building. That fall, where the water rushes into the crevasse you can see. There—up yonder, a quarter of a mile away.”
At that moment there was a tremendous crash on their left; and, as they turned sharply, it was to see from far below them what appeared to be a cloud of smoke rising and wreathing round, full of tiny specks of silver, and over which an iris glimmered for a few moments, and faded away with the ice dust caused by the toppling over of a huge serac, which had crushed half a dozen others in its fall.
“Come along. Let’s arrange about our camp; and then we’ll take hammers and a chisel, and begin to examine the side of this glacier at once.”
They turned back. Saxe quitting the glorious view of the crystal silver land, as he mentally dubbed it, very unwillingly.
To his surprise, as they descended they found Gros on his back, in a gully full of sand and stones, snorting, flapping his ears and throwing up his legs, as he fell over first on one side, then on the other, in the full enjoyment of a good roll; while as they advanced it was to find Melchior in the sheltered nook setting up the tent, after rolling some huge pieces of rock to the four corners ready to secure the ropes; for there was no spot in that stony ravine where a peg of iron, let alone one of wood, could be driven in.
“Hah! a capital spot, Melchior.”
“Yes, herr, well sheltered from three winds, and there is plenty of good water; but we shall have to be sparing with the wood. To-morrow I’ll take Gros, and go down to the nearest pine forest and bring up a load.”
“Then you mean to stay here?”
“For a few days, herr. You have peaks all round which you can climb. There is the glacier, and there are bare mountain precipices and crevices where you may find that of which you are in search.”