about
the man's stout neck, he began his perilous descent--perilous, for now
he had to trust entirely to his feet and balance himself cautiously as
he started off in the gathering darkness downward toward the nearest
vale.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked; but Saxe did not reply.

"It was quite time, poor lad," muttered Melchior. "The warmth from my
body will keep him alive, and, Heaven helping me, I may get safely down
below the snow. If I can do that, I must find a place where I can make
a fire. Now, lad, you call yourself a guide: make for the nearest bit
of forest, and save this poor boy's life. But it's a hard task--a hard
task, and you need all your strength and knowledge now."

It was indeed a hard task, and again and again he nearly fell headlong;
but by the exercise of his wonderful activity and strength, he always
recovered himself, took a fresh breath, and descended steadily over the
frozen snow, which grew more rugged and difficult at every turn.

"But I must do it--must do it," the man kept on muttering; and he toiled
on down till the bottom of the slope was reached, and here the piled-up
new ice proved more difficult than ever; and it was not till an hour had
passed from his reaching the bottom of the slip, that he thoroughly left
behind the last trace of the avalanche.

What had been simple mountaineering work in the bright sunshine, when
free and able to pick the way, became terrible now in the mountain,
where the path was always rugged, but often such that a moment's
hesitation or a slip might mean death for both. But Melchior's feet
seemed by long habit to have grown accustomed to danger, and to have
been educated into joining in the protection of him they bore, so that,
in spite of the darkness and danger, Melchior got down lower and lower,
and by degrees worked himself into the track he had followed in the
morning in guiding his companions up the peak.

Here he was more at home, and able to think out how he could best pass
round that ledge and creep by this angle before he reached it. Saxe did
not speak, but hung upon his back perfectly inert--a terrible load at
such a time; but the guide made no mental complaint,--simply toiled on
slowly enough for a couple of hours; then, thinking of a certain nook in
the mountain just below the snow-line where there was a good-sized clump
of dwarfed and distorted pines, he decided to stop there for the night,
sheltered from the icy wind with a good ela