"Father!" he cried again into the abyss that yawned beneath him--"father, speak to me, for God's sake!"
A sudden thrill passed through his frame as a low murmur came up from the icy grave. He strained his ears to listen to the broken words. "I am alive, Watty," was the reply of the unfortunate man; "but my ankle is out of joint, and one of my arms broken. I shall never see the light of day again."
A cry of mingled joy and agony burst from Walter's lips.
"Don't be afraid, father," he exclaimed. "You shall be rescued, with God's help. Have you got your bag with you?"
"Well, then, take mine. I'll lower it down with a cord. Have you got it?"
"Yes," was feebly answered. "I can hold out now for a while, unless the cold strikes me."
"Courage, father, till I run down to the village, and get the neighbors and shepherds to come with ropes and poles. Try to hold out for a couple of hours, and with the help of God you shall be saved."
"Ay, ay, dear boy," was the faint reply; "I will try to be patient till you come back." And with a godspeed Walter hurried off to rouse the neighbors to the rescue.
It was a dangerous journey that the brave boy undertook for his father's rescue; but courage, and the agility which is acquired by those who are accustomed to the mountains from childhood, enabled him to reach the valley in a wonderfully short time. Pale as death, with hands bleeding, and clothes torn to shreds, he rushed to the inn, which was the nearest spot where help could be found. His appearance naturally created consternation, and in answer to the numerous questions addressed to him he related in a few breathless words the dreadful accident which had befallen his father. A score of stalwart hands were instantly ready to rescue the unfortunate man from his dreadful position; the landlord of the inn ordered ropes, poles, and ladders to be got in readiness, and meanwhile pressed refreshment on the well-nigh exhausted youth. Moments were precious, but ere long the party reached the scene of the disaster, when Walter, leaning over the edge of the cleft, cried to his father, and was answered.
"Yes, I'm still alive," replied the mountaineer, in feeble tones; "but I am almost frozen to death, and in dreadful pain. Make haste and help me, if you can, for I'm losing my senses."