“But I don’t think he could be careless,” said Saxe quickly. “Then, about that crystal being found. Somebody must have been down to that grotto, and dropped it as he came away. I think we are being tracked by people who wish us to fail.”
“Then whoever it is must wish, for we are not going to fail, my boy. We must and will succeed, in spite of everybody. By the way, did you break off that crystal by which you held when you were in the grotto?”
“No, I tried,” said Saxe; “but it was too firm, and I had not room to use my ice-axe, we were so close together.”
“Never mind; to-morrow will do. We must get a grand collection of choice specimens, Saxe; and I hope that, as the Swiss Government will be the gainers by my discoveries, they will not raise any objections to my taking a goodly assortment away.”
They relapsed into silence again, and it was growing so dusk when they began to climb up out of the glacier valley, that the reflection of a fire could be seen upon the side of the rocky niche in which they had formed their camp; and later on, as they came in sight of the little fall at the end of the rift in the mountain, the foaming waters were lit up so brilliantly that they looked like gold.
But the beauties of the place were forgotten by Saxe in the sight of a kettle on the fire, and something which looked wonderfully like cut-up chicken waiting to be frizzled over the glowing embers, beside which Melchior’s sturdy figure stood up plainly, with his dark shadow cast upon the side of the white tent.
“Tea nearly ready?” cried Saxe, as they approached.
“Very nearly, herr,” was the reply. Then to Dale, as a piece of sharpened pine was held out: “This is the wood used to pin down your letter, herr.”
“That?”
“Yes, herr; and it was stuck in that crevice between those pieces of rock.”