stood in
quite a trough between the steep rock of the valley side and the jagged
masses of ice, it was impossible to say exactly from whence it came.

"Yes, I heard it," said Dale, as the sound ceased. "There must be some
one on the ice: it sounded just like cutting steps. Listen again."

They stood motionless, but all was perfectly still.

"Come along," cried Dale; "we cannot waste time. It must have been the
ice giving way somewhere. Perhaps it was the splitting sound of a
crevasse opening."

"There it is again!" cried Saxe.

"Yes; it must be some one cutting steps: but it is evidently a long way
off. We can't see from here, but some one must be on the mountain above
us, and the sound comes through the clear air, and strikes against the
valley wall over yonder. Yes: hark! It seems to come from there; but,
depend upon it, the cause is high up overhead."

They started again, for everything was growing greyer, and in spite of
the hard work they both began to feel cold. But they had not gone a
dozen steps before the sound began again, and Saxe cried excitedly--

"It's from out on the glacier somewhere. There are people there, and we
shall get help."

There was so much, decision in the boy's utterance that Dale was
impressed, and he stopped short close up to the ice, listening to the
chipping sound, which was distinctly heard now, though very faint.

All at once Saxe went forward a step or two, and then dropped upon his
knees on the stone where the ice stood a few inches away from the rock,
melted and worn by the water that evidently tore down at times.

"Well?" said Dale, as Saxe listened.

"Yes, you can hear it more plainly here," said the boy.

"No!"

"Come and listen."

Dale laid his head against the ice, and for a few moments nothing was
heard.

"No," said Dale; "it is what I told you--an echo from above. People
don't cut steps on glaciers, the slope is not enough. Ah! yes. It does
certainly seem to come from the ice."

Saxe looked at him wildly. His head was in a whirl, full of thoughts,
which seemed to jostle each other, while Dale stood listening to the
steady chip, chip, chip.

"I cannot quite make it out."

"There's some one cutting down there," cried Saxe.

"No. The sound is carried a long way; but some one must be cutting
steps in the ice not far from here."

"Then it is not an echo?"

"No, I think not; but I am not sure."

"Let's see!" cried Saxe excitedly.

"It is