“Ready!”
“If it will only bear it,” muttered Dale, as he steadily drew upon the string, hand over hand, expecting moment by moment that it would part. But it bore the weight of the rope well, and in a few minutes he was able to lift the coil over the edge on to the glacier.
Saxe heard him give a sigh of relief as he bent down and drew it away; but he turned back to the crack directly, and shouted down in slow, solemn words—
“Keep a good heart man, and if it is to be done we’ll save you.”
“With God’s help, herr,” came up; and the voice sounded to Saxe, as he toiled away, less despairing.
“Now!” cried Dale, speaking quickly and excitedly: “pray with me, lad, that these two ropes together may be long enough. Quick! Out with your knife.”
Saxe obeyed, and stood ready while Dale rapidly joined the two ropes together; but, not content with his knot, he cut off a couple of pieces of string, and rapidly bound down the loose ends so that they should by no possibility slip through the loops.
This done, and Saxe once more cutting the grooves he was making more deeply, Dale rapidly ran Melchior’s rope through his hands, and made a knot and slip-noose.
“Keep on cutting,” he said to Saxe. “No: a better idea. Pick a hole—there!” He stamped his foot in the place he meant. “Small and deep, so as to turn your axe into an anchor if we want its help. Work—hard!”
Saxe drove his axe down on to the ice with vigour, blow after blow sending the tiny crystals flying, while he had to fight down the intense desire to leave off and watch the rescue, as Dale began to lower the noose he had made.