he mule on the haunch, and the sturdy beast set off at once
up the laborious ascent, with its hoofs sinking in deeply, as
instinctively it sloped off to the right instead of breasting the ascent
at once.

"But what about the rope, Melchior?" said Dale sharply.

"There is no need for a rope here, herr. This snow lies on the solid
rock, and every crevice and hollow is full, with the snow harder and
more strong the deeper we go."

"Of course: I had forgotten. This is not a glacier. Come, Saxe!
Tired?"

"Wait till I get to the top," was the reply; and they climbed on, with
the snow gradually changing colour as it was bathed in the evening
sunshine, till they seemed to be tramping up and up over grains of gold,
which went rushing back as Gros plunged his way upward, turning from
time to time, and retracing his steps at an angle, thus forming a zigzag
as regular as if it had been marked out for him at starting.

"Seems to grow as one climbs," grumbled Saxe at last, as he grew too
tired to admire the glorious prospect of gilded peaks which kept on
opening out at every turn.

"But it does not," replied Dale. "Come: do your best! It's splendid
practice for your muscles and wind. You are out of breath now, but a
week or two hence you will think nothing of a slope like this; and
to-morrow I am thinking of ascending that peak, if you like to come."

"Which?" cried Saxe.

"That to the right, where the rock is clear on one side and it is all
snow on the other."

"Yes, I see."

"It is not one of the high peaks, but the rocks look attractive, and it
will be practice before I try something big. But you'll be too much
done up with to-day's work."

Saxe frowned, and they went on in silence for a time, till, at one of
the turns made by the mule, Dale paused.

"Like a rest?" he said.

"No," replied Saxe; "we may as well get to the top first."

Dale smiled to himself.

"He has plenty of spirit," he muttered; and he watched Saxe toiling on,
with his feet sinking in the snow at every step, and how he never once
glanced up at the top of the col for which they were making; but he gave
a start and his face lit up as Melchior suddenly uttered his peculiar
jodel.

"The top of the col," he cried; and, as the others joined him where he
stood, with his arm over the mule's neck, he said, "Would the herrs like
me to tell them the names of the different peaks?"

"Yes, after tea," said Saxe, laughing. "But, I say, I thought