he vast rift, which seemed in the failing light
to run in a peculiar waving zigzag right across the glacier for nearly
half a mile.

Saxe uttered a curious hoarse sound, as he dropped upon his knees close
to the edge of the crevasse.

"Take care, boy; the ice is slippery."

Saxe made no reply, but peered shuddering down into the black darkness,
and tried to shout; but his throat was dry, and not a sound would come.

It was Dale who shouted, as he now bent over the crevasse.

"Ahoy! Any one there?"

His voice went reverberating down through the caverns of the ice, and as
the sound died away there came an answer--

"Au secours! Help!"

"Melchior!" yelled Saxe wildly; and the voice came again from out of the
black darkness--

"Help!"

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A RESCUE.

For a few moments Dale and Saxe knelt together there, with their hearts
throbbing wildly at their discovery. There was a bewildering train of
thoughts, too, running through their minds, as to how the poor fellow
could have got there; and Saxe could only find bottom in one idea--that
they had been confusedly wandering about, returning another way, till
they had accidentally hit upon a further development of the great
crevasse into which the guide had fallen.

All this was momentary, and then Dale was speaking.

"He must be a long way off to the right here, cutting his way up, and
the ice conducted the sound. Come,--carefully. It would be terrible if
you slipped."

"I sha'n't slip!" cried Saxe firmly, and he followed on.

"Ahoy!" shouted Dale. "Where are you?"

"Here!" came from the right still, but apparently from the other side,
the voice sounding hollow and strange.

Dale caught Saxe's arm.

"Are we on the wrong side of the crevasse!" he muttered. But he went on
for another twenty yards and called.

The answer still came from the right, but not from the opposite side,
the former effect being simply reverberation. Another thirty yards or
so brought them to where the hollow-sounding voice seemed to come up
from straight below them; and they lay down to speak.

"Don't ask questions about how he came there. Let me speak only,"
whispered Dale. "Where are you?" he shouted.

"Nearly below you, herr," came up feebly. "So cold and faint."

"Hold on," shouted Dale. "Now, Saxe, the ball of string and the
lanthorn. Light it quickly."

The boy's hands trembled so that he could hardly obey, and two matches
were spoiled by