Wichita eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1886-1890, 1888-03-17

and cleaned the vessels and cut the wood,
while Gaspard tended the fire, watched the
soup and did the cooking, their monotonous
work interspersed with games of cards.
Both Of them calm and placid men, resigned
to this wintering in the submits, they never
Quarreled. Occasionally, when the weather
permitted, old Gaspard would take his gun
and hunt the chamois, a feast day at the Inn
of Schwarenbach resulting. One morning
he started as usual: the thermometer ranged
IS dogs. below zero. The sun had not yet
risen, for the hunter hoped to surprise the
animals as they fed on the borders of the
Wildstrubel Ulrich, left alone, remained
in bed till 10 o'clock, propensity he dared
not indulge in in the presence Of the old
guide. He breakfasted with SAM who passed
his days doing before the fire, then seated
himself to wait for Gaspard. Tired at last,
he got up and went to meet him. The snow
that had fallen steadily had leveled the deep
valley, filed the ccevices, effaced the lakes
and crowned the rocks till they appeared be
tween the towering SUBMITS like huge white
tubes, binding and dazzling
For three weeks Ulrich had not been able
to go to the end of the valley to regard the
village. 1t was a good time; he would go
there now, before climbing the cliffs of the
Wiidstrubel.
1t, too, was buried under the snow, and the
dwellings, in their pale mantle, no longer dis
tinguishable. Turning to the right, he
gained the glacier of the Loenmern, going
with the long stride Of the practiced noun
tanner, supporting himself by his iron
pointed staff plunged into the snow, his
piercing eye catching and scrutinizing every
little black spot upon the surrounding white
ness AT the spot where Gaspard usually
rested he hesitated a moment, wondering if
the hunter had taken his accustomed path /;
then started again with a swifter, anxious
step The day was ending, the SUBMITS red
dening with the setting sun; cold wind
blew in short gusts over the crystal surface
Ulrich shouted aloud, sharp, vibrating cries,
that died away in the silence, slept in the
mountains, or lost themselves in those mo-
tionless frozen waves like the cries of the
birds over the sea. Nothing answered him.
He walked rapidly on. The sun had sunk
below the peaks; its reflection still crmsoned
the Sky, but the valley was gray and somber.
Ulrich felt alarmed. 1t seemed to him as if
the silence, the solitude, the deadly winter of
the glaciers held him, were going to stop his
blood, to stiffen his limbs and turn him to
ice. He began to run, flying toward his
dwelling. Perhaps Gaspard had returned
and was waiting for him, sitting before the
fire, dead chamois at his feet. Soon the
inn was before him, but no smoke came from
its chimncys. Ulrich ran faster than ever,
opened the door and entered Sam
rushed to meet him, but no one
Hari was not therel Still
he searched and looked as if he ex-
pected to find him hiding in corner. He
lighted the fire and prepared the soup, from
time to time going 20 the door and looking
out, hoping always to see Gaspard coming
Night fell, the pallid, livid light of tho
that crawled along the horizon,
a slow, increasing yellow, ready at breath
to drop behind the SUBMITS. Perhaps Gas
pard had broken his leg, had fallen into
hole, had twisted his ankle, and was lying
in the snow suffering, stlTened by the cold,
and calling for help with all his strength in
the silence of those solitudes. But where?
Ten or twenty men, working in all direc-
cions, would be required to find man lost III
that immensely. Nevertheless, Ulrich deter
mined to start alone with Sam, if Gaspard
had not returned by midnight Ee made
bis prcparations-two days food in a sack.
ais steel climbing hook, bis staff, a stout rope
md his Ratchet and then he waited
The fire roared in the chimney, the dog
'nored in the light of the flames, the clock
Oeat like the heart, in even, regular strokes,
N its case of wood. He waited-his ear
3uickened to The slightest sound-the lightes.
brush of the wind across the roof and walls
struck-Gaspard had not come
He got up, covered the fire with ashes anG
wood, called Sam and started for the Wild
strubcl. For three hours he assembled, hold
ing by his climbing hook, cutting steps in
the ice, breathlesS, painting, but always
higher and higher, followed by the faithful
Sam. II was six hours before he reached the
point that tho old hunter frequented for
,hamois.
Day was breaking, a strange light, spring
ne no one knew whence, through the brist-
ing peaks, spreading, growing, deepening to
he tint of rosy flesh. The red sun was up
behind the sullen giants of the Bernoises
Alps. Ulrich continued, going like a hunter,
lalf bent, spying for traces, calling con-
tantly to the dog: Hunt, my fine fellow,
lunt." in vain. He descended again, search
ng the CULTS with his eye, listening with his
,ar to the ground, shouting, halooing and
sending his voice cchoing from point to
)olnt Nothing answered hin Weak and
toward IL o'clock he seated HIM
elf, ate his breakfast and fed Sam, then
again Evening came-too far
II the mountains to return to the inn, too
atigued to drag himself longer, Ulrich hol-
owed hole in the snow, crept into it, fol-
owed by Sam, and side by side under the
ug he had brought with him, man and
,easa sought to warm themselves one against
he other; but chilled to tho marrow of their
zones, WORT the night away.
Unable to sleep, at daybreak he rose again,
lis legs stiff as iron, his hands shaking, his
,ody TOO weak to utter q cry OF anguish.
\ as he, too, going to die in these frozen soil
udes? He gathered up his energy and his
aillrg vigor, and falling, slipping, plungins
rom height to height, descended toward the
M of Schwarenbach, Sam following behind
Inn limping on three leo. The house was
npty, the fire out. Ulrich relit it, ate and
lept, too exhausted to do or think of more.
lie slept long time Suddenly a voice, a
ry, 4 name, "Ulrich!" aroused him from his
orpor Was it dream, that penetrating
al, a dream such as comes to the soul of the
nxious? No, he heard it still. vibrating ana
ounding in his ears; surely some one called
I'M, Zurich" "UlrichI" Some one was
here, near the house. He opened the door.
e shouted, ''Gaspardw "Gaspard!" No one
not a sound, not murmur, not a
roam; only the sullen night and the eternal
nowi
The wind had risen-that icy wind Of the
lacierS which pierces the stones and leaves
othing living on those abandoned heights
GaspardI" "Gaspardn "GaSpard!' cried
-lrich again, then waited. Nothins-noth-
II! Seized WITH fear that shook him to
ne bone he returned to the inn and closed
le door, Gaspard was dead somewhere in
"a mountains and at the moment of DIVING