“Then why go up there and along the top? Surely we can go diagonally up the snowfield from here to the corner below the shoulder, and we shall save half a mile, at least!”
“Yes, herr; nearer a mile,” said the guide, gazing up thoughtfully at the smooth snowfield; “but there is a great slope there.”
“Yes, but away from this horrible precipice. I suppose that goes down into an inner valley?”
“Yes, herr; and extends right to the bottom—all snow.”
“Then a slip and a roll would not matter?”
“No, herr.”
“Then why do you hesitate, man?” cried Dale peevishly, as the guide stood with his brow shaded, gazing up at the dazzling slope which rose from them at a little distance and then curved over and disappeared.
“I was looking, herr, because I mistrusted that snow. It does not look healthy.”
“What, likely to give way? Absurd! There are no crevasses there.”
“Oh no, herr. It is all rock below.”