In another ten minutes Dale came panting up, and, without hesitation, leaped the chasm.
“Well,” he said, “you have heard him?”
“No.”
“Has he not answered once?”
“No.”
Dale stood frowning and in silence for some seconds, before saying sternly, “well, we have our duty to do, Saxe. We must get him out.”
“Yes, I’m ready,” replied the boy; and he stood watching as Dale took the coil of rope from his shoulder, a ball of thin string from his coat pocket, and the lanthorn from his ice-axe, to whose head he had slung it as he came.
“Ah!” cried Saxe, “you have brought the lamp and string. You are going to let down a light for us to see where he lies?”
“I was going to, my boy; but I think better of it now. You shall go down without. It looks dark there, but it will not be so very black. The long light across will strike down.”
Saxe told him about the pieces of ice he had thrown down, and Dale looked terribly serious.