Dale drew a long, deep breath, and asked himself whether he was justified in exposing a man to such risks for the sake of making his own discoveries.
“Well, herrs, I knew that if I stopped I should get benumbed and unable to struggle on, so I began feeling my way along the narrow shore of the little river, now touching stone, now ice, till the shore seemed to end. As I felt about I found the ice arch lower, and that I must begin to wade.”
“But why didn’t you try and wade back to the bottom of the crevasse where you fell?” cried Saxe.
“I did, herr; but it was impossible to face the water. It rushed down so fiercely that, as it grew deeper and from wading knee deep I was going along with the water at my waist, I had to cling sometimes to the ice above my head to keep from being swept away.”
Saxe drew a long breath.
“I went on, herr, cheered by the knowledge that every step I took was one nearer to liberty; and now, though the water was all melted ice, I did not feel so cold, till suddenly my feet slipped away from under me, and I felt as if something had given me a heavy push in the back. Then I was under the water, and found that I was gliding round and round. I don’t know how many times, for it was like being in a dream, till I was once more where the water swept me down under the ice arch.
“There, I can tell you little more, except that it was all wild confusion, that the roar of the water seemed to crash against my ears till I was once more in a shallow place; and as I struggled to get my breath, I came to what seemed to be a bar, panting heavily till I could turn a little, and I found that the bar to which I clung was the handle of my ice-axe lying across two masses of stone, between which the waters roared.
“I felt that I could go no farther, and that if I attempted to pass through that narrow gateway of stone it would be to my death, so I forced myself sidewise till I found myself free from so much pressure, and, stretching out my ice-axe, I felt about till I could hook it on to ice or stone; and as I drew myself along by the handle the water grew less deep, then shallower still; and as I made my way it was over stones among which water ran, and I felt about with my axe, puzzled, for it was so strange. There was the water running over my feet, but gently, and the rushing river a little way behind. What did it mean? why was it so? Those were the questions I asked myself till the light came.”
“Ah! it began to get light?” cried Saxe.
“In my brain, herr,” said Melchior, smiling; “and I knew that this was a little side stream coming down some crack beneath the ice, one of the many that help to make the other big.