me when he seemed to have quite lost his nerve: "pretty mess to get
yourself in! Fortunately I have the rope."

As Dale spoke he looked about wildly for some means of utilising that
rope; but he could see none.

"Why did you go up there instead of keeping down here?"

"I thought I saw an opening here," said Saxe; "and there is one big
enough to creep in. I am holding by the side of it now, or I should go
down."

"Then go on holding by the side," said Dale cheerily, though his face
was working; and then, to take the boy's attention from his perilous
position, "Not a crystal cave, is it?"

"Yes. I felt big crystals inside: I am holding on by one."

"Bravo! Well done, boy; but you are making yourself a front door."

"Don't--don't laugh at me, Mr Dale," said Saxe piteously. "It is very
hard work to hold on."

"I'm not laughing at you, Saxe, my boy: only saying a word to cheer you
up. You haven't got a crevasse under you, and if the worst came I
should have to catch you. Now, let's see: here's a ledge away to your
right; but it's too far for you to leap, and there is nothing to catch
hold of. If I got the rope up to you, you could fasten it somewhere and
slide down."

"Fasten it? To what?"

"Ay?--to what?" said Dale to himself. Then aloud: "You haven't a very
good hold there, have you?"

"No--dreadful," came faintly.

"I say, boy; don't take that tone. Mountaineers are people full of
resources. You say you have an opening behind you?"

"Yes."

"Then can you hold on with one hand?"

"I--I think so."

"Think! Say yes!" shouted Dale angrily. "Now, hold on with one hand."

"Yes."

"Where's your ice-axe?"

"I--I had forgotten that."

"I can see that, sir. Now put your hand behind you and pull it
carefully out of your belt. Steady! there is no hurry. Don't drop it."

Saxe passed his hand behind him, and gradually hitched the axe out from
where he had been carrying it like a sword while he climbed to the hole.

"That's better. Mind! Now push it into the hole and turn it across.
Can you?"

Saxe obeyed his instructor, and Dale saw that the opening was about the
level of the lad's waist, and evidently roomy--at least, amply large
inside for the axe to be crossed.

"Now you've got something better to hold on by, and can hook your arm
over it to rest your hand."

"Yes," cried Saxe, who was already doing this. "My hand was so horribly
cramped, and it seemed as if you would never come.