one of the gloomiest parts of the rift. And here
the ledge still descended slowly till the water began to wash over the
path; then, as he looked anxiously forward, he could dimly see that at
every step the water splashed beneath the animal's hoofs, and the next
minute it was standing still, with the guide close up behind.

Saxe stopped short, after feeling his way for a step or two with the
handle of his ice-axe, while he leaned a little against the steep wall;
and Dale came up and touched his shoulder, bending down to shout in his
ear.

"I can't see from here. Is the path more covered where they are?"

"I don't know,--I think so," Saxe shouted back, his voice seeming to be
swept away by the rushing noise that appeared to accompany the water as
it hurried along.

The guide's figure was indistinct in the mist of spray, and the mule's
seemed lost in the rock, so similar were they in tone; but the
spectators could just make out that Melchior was doing all he could
short of blows to urge the mule on, and that it was stubbornly refusing
to stir.

"You must go on, or let me pass you, Saxe," shouted Dale: "I want to
speak to the guide."

"It gets deeper here," cried Saxe: "it's over my ankles, and the water
feels like ice."

"Never mind,--go on; keep as close to the wall as you can. Shall I get
by you?"

"No," said Saxe stoutly; "I'll try."

He waded along the shelf, with the water getting deeper still; and now
he could feel the curious sensation of the rushing stream bearing
against his legs, which were immersed half-way to his knees; and at
every step he cautiously sounded, to make sure where he should plant his
feet.

Before he had gone many paces, Melchior had returned to meet him; and as
Dale closed up the guide shouted:

"I can't get him along, sir, and I dare not make him restive by a blow."

"No, no--of course not. But the water?"

"It is deeper farther on, herr--I think about a foot--and he will not
move."

"It is impossible to back him, of course?"

"Oh yes, herr; and he cannot turn."

"Then we must get by him and go on and leave him to follow."

"Impossible, herr," yelled Melchior. "If we tried he might kick."

"Go and coax him."

"It is no use, herr. The poor beast is right. He says in his way that
it is not safe to go on, and that we must wait."

"Wait in a place like this!" cried Dale. "The water is icy, and the
noise deafening. Can you recollect how much the path goes down bey