morning wash, and also
to look at the stone which had so strongly resembled a head.

There was the clear basin from which he had drunk, and there were the
places where he had rested his hands; but there was no stone that could
by any possibility have looked like a head even in the darkness, and he
returned at last to the tent feeling strangely uncomfortable, and in no
good condition for his breakfast.

"Come, Saxe," cried Dale, as he sat eating his bread and fried bacon.
"Didn't you sleep well? Not unwell, are you?"

"I? No--oh no! Why?"

"Because you are making a very poor meal, and it will be many hours
before we eat again."

Saxe went on with his breakfast; but somehow he did not enjoy it, and
his thoughts were either occupied with the terrible face which stood out
clear before him as he had seen it the previous night, or he was asking
himself whether he should not take Melchior into his confidence, and ask
him his opinion about what he had seen.

"I shall not want to stop here to-night," he said to himself. "It is
too horrible to feel that a hideous creature like that is always close
at hand."

"Now, then," cried Dale, breaking in upon his meditations; "pack up, and
let's start for the bottom of the glacier. How long will it take us?"

"Nearly two hours, herr."

"We'll have some provisions for lunch, and take the big hammer and
chisel: I shall want the rock marked, so that I can examine it when I
come next year, or the year after."

The orders were obeyed, the tent closed up, water and fuel placed ready
for their return, and Melchior led off with the mule to cut across a
corner before descending to the edge of the ice.

Before they had gone a dozen yards there was a loud b-a-ah! from
overhead, and the goat came bounding down from rock to rock in the most
breakneck fashion; but it ended by leaping into their track, and ran up
and butted its head against Saxe.

"How friendly that animal has become!" said Saxe, as they walked on,
with the goat munching away and trotting beside them; till Dale said
suddenly, "Here--we do not want it with us: send it back."

Saxe drove the goat away, but it took his movements as meaning play, and
danced and skipped, and dodged him and then dashed by, and on ahead, the
same gambols taking place at every attempt to send the animal back.

"There--let it be," cried Dale at last: "you'll tire yourself out before
we fairly start. Why, it follows us like a dog! Perhaps i