"We must hurry, or we shan't be back by nightfall!" said the
Goat-mother nervously; and they landed on an ice-block, covered up the
boat again in its hiding place, and set off towards home, across the
Glacier.

CHAPTER VI.

The weary travellers almost sank with fatigue as they stumbled over
the rough ice.

In addition to the handbag, they now had the cuckoo clock, and though
Heinrich had insisted on carrying it strapped on his back like a
knapsack, his mother could see that he became more and more exhausted,
and at last she determined on taking it from him and carrying it
herself.

The difficulty was heightened by the fact that the clock continued to
tick, and the cuckoo to bound out of the door at unexpected moments,
startling the Goat-mother so, that she almost dropped it.

"It's the shaking that puts its works out," said Heinrich. "Hold on
tight, mother, and we shall get it home safely at last!"

"I wish it was at the bottom of the Glacier!" groaned the
Goat-mother, staggering along; her bonnet nearly falling off, her
shawl trailing on the snow behind her.

"Be careful, Pyto! Careless Goat!" she cried. "Test the snow-bridges
carefully with your alpenstock before you venture on them!"

But Pyto, who was young and giddy, went gamboling on; until suddenly,
without even time for a bleat of terror, he fell crashing through the
rotten ice, and disappeared from view into one of the largest
crevasses.

"Goats-i-tivy!" cried the Goat-mother. "He's gone! Oh, my darling
child, where are you?"

The cuckoo clock was thrown aside, and she ran to the edge of the
crack and peered down frantically.

"All right, mother," said a voice, sounding very faint and hollow,
"I've stuck in a hole. Let me down something, and perhaps I can
scramble out again."

"What have we got to let down?" said the Goat-mother. "Not a ball of
string amongst us! Oh, if ever we go on a journey again, I'll never,
_never_ listen to the Stein-bok."

"Well, mother, we must make the best of what we have," cried Heinrich.
"Take your shawl off and tear it into strips. We _may_ be able to make
a rope long enough to reach him--anyhow we'll try!"

The Goat-mother consented eagerly, though her shawl was one she was
particularly fond of. She snatched it off, and taking out her
scissors, she soon cut it into pieces, which Heinrich knotted one to
the other, and lowered into the crevasse.

"Can you reach it?" he cried, putting his head as far over the e