Elsket | Page 4

whose
vast wall towered above us to the clouds.
I shall never forget that climb.
We were hardly out of the road before we began to ascend, and I had
shortly to stop for breath. My guide, however, if silent was thoughtful,
and he soon caught my gait and knew when to pause. Up through the
dusk we went, he guiding me now by a word telling me how to step, or

now turning to give me his hand to help me up a steep place, over a
large rock, or around a bad angle. For a time we had heard the roar of
the torrent as it boiled below us, but as we ascended it had gradually
hushed, and we at length were in a region of profound silence. The
night was cloudy, and as dark as it ever is in midsummer in that far
northern latitude; but I knew that we were climbing along the edge of a
precipice, on a narrow ledge of rock along the face of the cliff. The vast
black wall above us rose sheer up, and I could feel rather than see that
it went as sheer down, though my sight could not penetrate the
darkness which filled the deep abyss below. We had been climbing
about three hours when suddenly the ledge seemed to die out. My guide
stopped, and unwinding his rope from his waist, held it out to me. I
obeyed his silent gesture, and binding it around my body gave him the
end. He wrapped it about him, and then taking me by the arm, as if I
had been a child, he led me slowly along the narrow ledge around the
face of the wall, step by step, telling me where to place my feet, and
waiting till they were firmly planted. I began now to understand why
no one ever went "over the mountain" in the day. We were on a ledge
nearly three thousand feet high. If it had not been for the strong, firm
hold on my arm, I could not have stood it. As it was I dared not think.
Suddenly we turned a sharp angle and found ourselves in a curious
semicircular place, almost level and fifty or sixty feet deep in the
concave, as if a great piece had been gouged out of the mountain by the
glacier which must once have been there.
"This is a curious place," I ventured to say.
"It is," said my guide. "It is the Devil's Seat. Men have died here."
His tone was almost fierce. I accepted his explanation silently. We
passed the singular spot and once more were on the ledge, but except in
one place it was not so narrow as it had been the other side of the
Devil's Seat, and in fifteen minutes we had crossed the summit and the
path widened a little and began to descend.
"You do well," said my guide, briefly, "but not so well as Doctor John."
I was well content with being ranked a good second to the doctor just
then.

The rain had ceased, the sky had partly cleared, and, as we began to
descend, the early twilight of the northern dawn began to appear. First
the sky became a clear steel-gray and the tops of the mountains became
visible, the dark outlines beginning to be filled in, and taking on a soft
color. This lightened rapidly, until on the side facing east they were
bathed in an atmosphere so clear and transparent that they seemed
almost within a stone's throw of us, while the other side was still left in
a shadow which was so deep as to be almost darkness. The gray
lightened and lightened into pearl until a tinge of rose appeared, and
then the sky suddenly changed to the softest blue, and a little later the
snow-white mountain-tops were bathed in pink, and it was day.
I could see in the light that we were descending into a sort of upland
hollow between the snow-patched mountain-tops; below us was a
lovely little valley in which small pines and birches grew, and patches
of the green, short grass which stands for hay shone among the great
bowlders. Several little streams came jumping down as white as milk
from the glaciers stuck between the mountain-tops, and after resting in
two or three tiny lakes which looked like hand-mirrors lying in the
grass below, went bubbling and foaming on to the edge of the precipice,
over which they sprang, to be dashed into vapor and snow hundreds of
feet down. A half-dozen sheep and as many goats were feeding about in
the little valley; but I could not see the least sign of a house, except a
queer, brown structure, on a little knoll, with