human companions.

An hour after the fire was out the stars shone brilliantly, and the
little party slept beneath their rugs on a couch of pine boughs as
soundly as in the most luxurious couch that had fallen to their lot.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

FIRST MOUNTAIN CLIMB.

The loud crack of something breaking awoke Saxe to the knowledge that a
grey light was peering through the pines, and that, though he was
comfortably warm, there was a crisp coldness in the air he breathed.

Then there was another sharp crack, and another, as of sticks being
broken; and he raised himself up to begin looking cautiously round. For
Melchior had said that there were bears about still in the mountains,
and the first idea that occurred to him was that a savage beast was
breaking his way through the thick pine-wood with inimical intent.

Another crack and another, very close at hand, and then a faint sighing
sound--evidently the expiration of some living creature's breath.

Saxe felt a catching sensation at the breast, a tingling in the temples
and cheeks, as if his veins were startled and his blood running wild;
and he stole his hand softly out from under the rug, to try and reach
his companions and rouse them to a sense of the impending danger--trying
to recollect at the same moment where the ice-axes had been placed when
they lay down overnight.

But at that moment there was a sharper crack than ever, and a faint
odour of burning, followed by the quick crackling so familiar when a
green pine bough is thrown upon the flames.

"Oh, what a coward I am!" thought Saxe, sinking back and placing his
enlaced fingers beneath his head, as he gazed straight up at the dark
branches above. "Just as if a bear would come and attack us, even if
there was one anywhere near! He'd scuffle off as soon as he smelt man."

"Perhaps not if he was very hungry," he thought, after a few minutes.
"But I do wish I could feel brave, like men do, and not turn shaky and
queer at the least thing. Here was I imagining all that rubbish just
because I heard a stick broken by old Melchior to make the fire.
Yesterday all I had to do was to walk along a shelf of rock, with some
water running down below me. If it had been out in the open sunshine I
shouldn't have minded a bit; but because it was a little dark I fancied
all sorts of stuff. Of course it was a bit startling to see a fellow go
head over heels into a torrent along with a moke and be swept away; but
I don