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UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

CO
CO

MRS. AUBREY LE BLOND

LIBRARY

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.

Class

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN
• ADVENTURE

MKI.CHIOK ANDF.KKC.C. 1894.

TRUE TALES OF
MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

FOR NON-CLIMBERS YOUNG AND OLD

MRS AUBREY LE BLOND
(MRS MAIN)

NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY

1903

rights reserved.)

TO
MR EDWARD WHYMPER

WHOSE SI'IRI TKD WRITINGS AND GRAPHIC PENCIL FIRST AWAKENEI>

AN INTEREST IN MOUNTAINEERING AMONGST THOSE WHO

HAD NEVER CLIMBED, I DEDICATE THESE TRUE TALES

FROM THE HILLS, THE MATERIAL FOR SOME OF

THE MOST STRIKING OF WHICH I OWE

TO HIS GENEROSITY.

212154

PREFACE

^ • ^HERE is no manlier sport in the world

than mountaineering.

It is true that all the sports Englishmen
take part in are manly, but mountaineering
is different from others, because it is sport
purely for the sake of sport. There is no
question of beating any one else, as in a race
or a game, or of killing an animal or a bird
as in hunting or shooting. A mountaineer
sets his skill and his strength against the
difficulty of getting to the top of a steep peak.
Either he conquers the mountain, or it
conquers him. If he fails, he keeps on
trying till he succeeds. This teaches him
perseverance, and proves to him that anything
is possible if he is determined to do it.

PREFACE

In mountaineering, all the party share the
pleasures and the dangers. Every climber
has to help the others. Every climber has
to rely both on himself and on his companions.

Mountaineering makes a person quick in
learning how to act in moments of danger.
It cultivates his presence of mind, it teaches
him to be unselfish and thoughtful for others
who may be with him. It takes him amongst
the grandest scenery in the world, it shows
him the forces of nature let loose in the blind-
ing snow-storm, or the roaring avalanche. It
lifts him above all the petty friction of daily
life, and takes him where the atmosphere is
always pure, and the outlook calm and wide.
It brings him health, and leaves him delightful
recollections. It gives him friends both
amongst his fellow-climbers, and in the faithful
guides who season after season accompany him.
It is a pursuit which he can commence early
in life, and continue till old age, for the choice
of expeditions is endless, and ascents of all

PREFACE

scales of difficulty and of any length are easily
found.

That I do not exaggerate the joys and the
benefits of mountaineering will be borne out
by those extracts from the true tales from
the hills of which this book chiefly consists.
Some may think I have dwelt at undue length
on the catastrophes which have darkened the
pages of Alpine history. I do not apologize.
If in one single instance any one who reads
these pages becomes afterwards a climber, and
takes warning from anything I have told him,
I am amply justified.

It has been difficult in a work like this to
know always what to include and what to
omit. My guiding principle has been to give
preference to descriptions which are either so
exciting by reason of the facts narrated, or else
so brilliantly and wittily written, that they
cannot fail to excite the reader's interest. To
these I have added four chapters, those on
mountaineering, on glaciers, on avalanches,

PREFACE

and on the guides of the Alps, which may
help to make climbing more intelligible to
those who have never attempted it.

My warm thanks are due to Sir Leslie Stephen,
Messrs Whymper, Tuckett, Charles Pilkington,
and Clinton Dent who have rendered the
production of this book possible by allowing
me to quote at considerable length from their
writings ; also to Messrs Longman who have
permitted me to make extracts from works
of which they hold the copyright, and to
Messrs Newnes and Messrs Hutchinson for
their kind permission to re-print portions of
my articles which have appeared in their
publications.

I am also under a debt of gratitude to Mi-
Philip Gosset, who has not only allowed me to
reprint his account of the avalanche on the
Haut-de-Cry, but has also most kindly placed
his wide knowledge of glaciers at my disposal
by offering to revise the chapter I have written
on that subject in this book.

PREFACE

Dr Kennedy, whose beautiful edition of
Mr Moore's diary, " The Alps in 1864,"
recently appeared, has generously given me
permission to make any extracts I desire
from it.

Colonel Arkwright, whose brother perished
on Mont Blanc in 1866, has been good enough
to allow me to reproduce a most interesting
and hitherto unpublished photograph of the
relics discovered in 1897.

The illustrations, except those connected
with the Arkwright accident, and a view of
the Matterhorn, by the late Mr W. F. Donkin,
are from photographs by me. By them I
have tried rather to show how climbers carry
out their mountaineering than to illustrate any
particular locality.

In my own writings I have adopted, in
the spelling of names of places, the modern
official forms, but, of course, when quoting I
have kept to those followed by each writer.

If, in the following pages, I have given any
xiii

PREFACE

pleasure to those who have never scaled a
peak, or have perhaps recalled happy days
amongst the mountains to a fellow-climber, it
will be a very real gratification to me.

E. LE BLOND.

67, THE DRIVE,
BRIGHTON, Oct. 30^, 1902.

xiv

CONTENTS.

CHAP. VAGE

PREFACE vii.

I. WHAT IS MOUNTAINEERING? .... I

II. A FEW WORDS ABOUT GLACIERS. ... 7

III. AVALANCHES 1$

IV. THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS 22

v. THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS (Continued) . . 50

VI. AN AVALANCHE ON THE HAUT-DE-CRY— A RACE 59

FOR LIFE

VII. CAUGHT IN AN AVALANCHE ON THE MATTER-
HORN — THE ICE-AVALANCHE OF THE ALTELS
— AN AVALANCHE WHICH ROBBED A LADY

OF A GARMENT 72

VIII. LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS ... 92

IX. THE MOST TERRIBLE OF ALL ALPINE TRAGEDIES IO7

X. A WONDERFUL SLIDE DOWN A WALL OF ICE . 113
XI. AN ADVENTURE ON THE TRIFT PASS— THE

PERILS OF THE MOMING PASS . . .122

XII. AN EXCITING PASSAGE OF THE COL DE PILATTE 134
XV

CONTENTS

CMAK 1-AGK

XIII. AN ADVENTURE ON THE ALETSCH GLACIER— A

LOYAL COMPANION— A BRAVE GUIDE . . 142

XIV. A WONDERFUL FEAT BY TWO LADIES— A PERIL-

OUS CLIMK 153

XV. A FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES . . 170

XVI. THE PIZ SCERSCEN TWICE IN FOUR DAYS— THE

FIRST ASCENT BY A WOMAN OF MONT BLANC 194

XVII. THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE . . . 2C>8

XVIII. THE AIGUILLE DU DRU 221

XIX. THE MOST FAMOUS MOUNTAIN IN THE ALPS —

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN . . 250

XX. SOME TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN . . 268

XXI. THE WHOLE DUTY OF THE CLIMBER— ALPINE

DISTRESS SIGNALS 289

GLOSSARY 293

INDEX 295

XVI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Melchior Anderegg, 1894 . . . Frontispiece

Climbers Descending the Ortler .... 2

The Aletsch Glacier from Bel Alp ... 7

General View of a Glacier .... 8

A Glacier Table : after a Storm . . . .11

A Crevassed Glacier . . . . .13

An Avalanche near Bouveret : a Tunnel through an

Avalanche . . . . . .17

Edouard Cupelin ...... 22

Descending a Rock Peak near Zermatt . . . 31

A Big Crevasse : the Gentle Persuasion of the Rope . 37
A Typical Couloir : the Ober Gabelhorn : the Wrong

Way to Descend : Very Soft Snow ... 42
Piz Palii : Hans and Christian Grass ... 44
Christian Aimer, 1894 ..... 54

An Avalanche Falling ..... 59

Eiger and Monch from Lauberhorn . . 66

Avalanche Falling from the Wetterhorn ... 79
On Monte Rosa ...... 83

Mr Whymper : Mrs Aubrey Le Blond : Group on a

High Peak in Winter . . . .85

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Mrs Aubrey Le Blond and Joseph Imboden : Crossing

a Snow Couloir ..... 89

Mont Blanc : Nicolas Winhart : a Banker of Geneva :

the Relics of the Arkwright Accident . . 92

Alpine Snow-Fields ..... 108

A Start by Moonlight : Shadows at Sunrise : a Stand-
ing Glissade : a Sitting Glissade . . .136
On a Snow-Covered Glacier .... 148

Martin Schocher and Schnitzler . . . .150

Exterior of a Climber's Hut : Interior . . .157

The Meije : Ascending a Snowy Wall . . . 171

Top of Piz Scerscen : Party Descending Piz Bernina :

On a Mountain Top : Descent of a Snow-Ridge . 194
Hard Work : Setting Out in a Long Skirt . . 204

A Steep Icy Slope : On the Top of a Pass . . 216

A Slab of Rock : Negotiating a Steep Passage . . 225

The Family of Herr Seiler, Zermatt : Going to Zermatt

in the Olden Days ..... 250

The Guides' Wall, Zermatt . . . .259

The Zermatt Side of the Matterhorn : Rising Mists . 260
A Bitterly Cold Day : The Matterhorn from the Zmutt

Side ....... 265

Jost, Porter of Hotel Monte Rosa, Zermatt . . 268

Hoar Frost in the Alps ..... 274

ERRATA

The plate labelled to face page 225, to face page n.
» j) » » 5> » "3-

xvi

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN
ADVENTURE

CHAPTER I
WHAT IS MOUNTAINEERING?

TV/TOUNTAINEERING is not merely walking
up hill. It is the art of getting safely up
and down a peak where there is no path, and
where steps may have to be cut in the ice ; it is
the art of selecting the best line of ascent under con-
ditions which vary from day to day.

Mountaineering as a science took long to perfect
It is more than a century since the first ascent
of a big Alpine peak was accomplished, and the
early climbers had but little idea of the dangers
which they were likely to meet with. They could
not tell when the snow was safe, or when it might
slip away in an avalanche. They did not know where
stones would be likely to fall on them, or when

they were walking over one of those huge cracks
A i

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

in the glacier known as crevasses, and lightly
bridged over with winter snow, which might break
away when they trod on it. However, they soon
learnt that it was safer for two or more people to
be together in such places than for a man to go
alone, and when crossing glaciers they used the
long sticks they carried as a sort of hand-rail, a
man holding on to each end, so that if one tumbled
into a hole the other could pull him out. Of course
this was a very clumsy way of doing things, and
before long it occurred to them that a much better
plan would be to use a rope, and being all tied to
it about 20 feet apart, their hands were left free,
and the party could go across a snow - field and
venture on bridged-over crevasses in safety.

At first both guides and travellers carried long
sticks called alpenstocks. If they came to a steep
slope of hard snow or ice, they hacked steps up it
with small axes which they carried slung on their
backs. This was a very inconvenient way of going
to work, as it entailed holding the alpenstock in
one hand and using the axe with the other. So they
thought of a better plan, and had the alpenstock
made thicker and shorter, and fastened an axe-head
to the top of it. This was gradually improved till
it became the ice-axe, as used to-day, and as shown

Cl.IMUEKS DESCENDING A SNOW-CLAD PEAK (THE ORTI.EK).

To /ncc p. 2,

•

WHAT IS MOUNTAINEERING?

in many of my photographs. This ice-axe is use-
ful for various purposes besides cutting steps. If
you dig in the head while crossing a snow-slope, it
acts as an anchor, and gives tremendous hold, while
to allude to its functions as a tin-opener, a weapon
of defence against irate bulls on Alpine pastures,
or as a means for rapidly passing through a crowd
at a railway station, is but to touch on a very few
of its admirable qualities.

When people first climbed they went in droves
on the mountains, or I should say rather on the
mountain, for during the first half of the nineteenth
century Mont Blanc was the object of nearly all
the expeditions which set out for the eternal snows.
After some years, however, it was found quite un-
necessary to have so many guides and porters, and
nowadays a party usually numbers four, two
travellers and two guides, or three, consisting
generally of one traveller and two guides, or
occasionally five. Two is a bad number, as should
one of them be hurt or taken ill, the other would
have to leave him and go for help, though one of
the first rules of mountaineering is that a man who
is injured or indisposed must never be left alone on
a mountain. Again, six is not a good number ; it
is too many, as the members of the party are sure

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

to get in each other's way, pepper each other with
stones, and waste no end of time in wrangling as to
when to stop for food, when to proceed, and which
way to go up. A good guide will run the concern
himself, and turn a deaf ear to all suggestions ; but
the fact remains that six people had better split up
and go on separate ropes. And if they also, in the
case of rock peaks, choose different mountains, it is
an excellent plan. The best of friends are apt to
revile each other when stones, upset from above,
come whistling about their ears.

The early mountaineers were horribly afraid of
places which were at all difficult to climb. Mere
danger, however, had no terrors for them, and they
calmly encamped on frail snow-bridges, or had
lunch in the path of avalanches. After a time the
dangerous was understood and avoided, and the
difficult grappled with by increased skill, until about
the middle of the nineteenth century there arose a
class of experts, little, if at all, inferior to the best
guides of the present day.

The most active and intelligent of the natives of
Chamonix, Zermatt, and the Bernese Oberland now
learnt to find their way even on mountains new
to them. Some were chamois hunters, and accus-
tomed to climb in difficult places. Others, perhaps,

WHAT IS MOUNTAINEERING?

had when boys minded the goats, and scrambled
after them in all sorts of awkward spots. Others,
again, had such a taste for mountaineering that
they took to it the very first time they tried it.
Of these last my own guide, Joseph Imboden, was
one, and later on I will tell you of the extra-
ordinary way in which he began his splendid
career.

It is from going with and watching how good
guides climb that most people learn to become
mountaineers themselves. Nearly all take guides
whenever they ascend difficult mountains, but
some are so skilful and experienced that they go
without, though few are ever good enough to do
this quite safely.

I am often asked why people climb, and it is a
hard question to answer satisfactorily. There is
something which makes one long to mountaineer
more and more, from the first time one tries it.
All climbs are different. All views from moun-
tains are different, and every time one climbs one
is uncertain, owing to the weather or the possible
state of the peak, if the top can be reached or not.
So it is always a struggle between the mountain
and the climber, and though perseverance, skill,
experience, and pluck must give the victory to the

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

climber in the end, yet the fight may be a long
one, and it may be years before a particularly
awkward peak allows one to stand on its summit.

Perhaps, if you have patience to read what
follows, you may better understand what moun-
taineering is, and why most of those who have
once tried it become so fond of it.

CHAPTER II

A FEW WORDS ABOUT GLACIERS

/^\F all the beautiful and interesting things
mountain districts have to show, none
surpass the glaciers.

Now a glacier is simply a river of ice, which
never melts away even during the hottest summer.
Glaciers form high up on mountains, where there
is a great deal of snow in winter, and where it is
never very hot even in summer. They are also
found in northern lands, such as Greenland, and
there, owing to the long cold winter and short
summer, they come down to the very level of the
sea.

A glacier is formed in this way : There is a
heavy fall of snow which lies in basins and little
valleys high up *on the mountain side. The air
is too cold for it to melt, and as more falls on the
top of it the mass gets pressed down. Now, if

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

you take a lump of snow in your hand and press
it, you get an icy snow-ball. If you squeeze anything
you make it warmer. The pressing down of the
great mass of snow is like the squeezing of the
ball in your hand. It makes it warmer, so that the
snow first half melts and then gradually becomes
ice. You bring about this change in your snow-
ball in a moment. Nature, in making a glacier,
takes much longer, so that what was snow one
year is only partly ice the next — it is known as
nevt— and it is not until after several seasons
that it becomes the pure ice we see in the lower
part of a glacier.

One would fancy that if a quantity of snow falls
every winter and does not all melt, the mountains
must grow higher. But though only a little of the
snow melts, it disappears in other ways. Some
is evaporated into the atmosphere ; some falls off in
avalanches. Most of it slowly flows down after
forming itself into glaciers. For glaciers are
always moving. The force of gravity makes them
slide down over their rocky beds. They flow so
slowly that we cannot see them move, in fact
most of them advance only a few inches a day.
But if a line of stakes is driven into the ice
straight across a glacier, we shall notice in a few

I s

A FEW WORDS ABOUT GLACIERS

weeks that they have moved down. And the
most interesting part of it is that they will not
have moved evenly, but those nearest the centre
will have advanced further than those at the side.
In short, a glacier flows like a river, the banks
keeping back the ice at the side, as the banks of
a river prevent it from running so fast at the edge
as in the middle.

A large glacier is fed by such a gigantic mass
of snow that it is in its upper part hundreds of
feet thick. Of course when it reaches warmer
places it begins to melt. But the quantity of ice
composing it is so great that it takes a long time
before it disappears, and a big glacier sometimes
flows down far below the wild and rocky parts of
mountains and reaches the neighbourhood of
forests and corn-fields. It is very beautiful at
Chamonix to see the white, glittering ice of the
Glacier des Bossons flowing in a silent stream
through green meadows.

The reason that mountaineers have to be careful
in crossing glaciers is on account of the holes,
cracks, or, to call them by their proper name,
crevasses, which are met with on them. Ice, unlike
water, is brittle, so it splits up into crevasses when-
•ever the glacier flows over a steep or uneven

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

rocky bed. High up, where snow still lies, these
chasms in the ice are often bridged over, and if a
person ventures on one of these snow bridges it
may break, and he may fall down the crevasse,
which may be so deep that no bottom can be
found to it. He is then either killed by the fall
or frozen to death. If, as I have explained before,
several climbers are roped together, they form a
long string, like the tail of a kite, and not more
than one is likely to break through at a time.
As the rope is — or ought to be — kept tightly-
stretched, he cannot fall far, and is easily pulled
out again.

The snow melts away off the surface of the
glacier further down in summer. It is on this barer
icy stream, scarred all over with little channels
full of water running merrily down the melting
rough surface, that the ordinary tourist is taken
when he visits a glacier during his summer trip to
Switzerland.

You will notice in most of the photographs of
glaciers black streaks along them, sometimes only
near the sides, sometimes also in the centre.
These are heaps of stones and earth which have
fallen from the mountains bordering the glacier,

and have been carried along by the slowly moving

•s

A FEW WORDS ABOUT GLACIERS

ice. The bands in the centre have come there,
owing to the meeting higher up of two glaciers,
which have joined their side heaps of rubbish, and
have henceforward flowed on as one glacier. The
bands of piled up stones are called moraines, those at
the edge being known as lateral moraines, in the
centre as medial moraines, and the stones which
drop off the end (or snout) of a glacier, as terminal
moraines.

Besides these compact bands, we sometimes
find here and there a big stone or boulder by itself,
which has rolled on to the ice. Often these stones
are raised on a pedestal of ice, and then they are
called " glacier- tables." They have covered the
bit of ice they lie upon, and prevented it from
melting, while the glacier all round has gradually
sunk. After a time the leg of the table begins to
feel the sun strike it also. It melts away on the
south side and the stone slips off. A party of
climbers, wandering about on a glacier at night
or in a fog, and having no compass, can roughly
take their bearings by noticing in what position
these broken-down glacier-tables lie.

Occasionally sand has been washed down over the
surface of the ice, and a patch of it has collected

in one place. This shields the glacier from the

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

sun, the surrounding ice sinks, and eventually we
find cones which are lightly covered with sand, the
smooth ice beneath being reached directly we scratch
the surface with the point of a stick.

It is difficult to realise the enormous size of a
large glacier. The Aletsch Glacier, the most exten-
sive in the Alps, would, it has been said, if turned
to stone, supply building material for a city the size
of London.

With regard to the movement of glaciers, the
entertaining author of " A Tramp Abroad " mildly
chaffs his readers by telling them that he once tried
to turn a glacier to account as a means of trans-
port. Accordingly, he took up his position in the
middle, where the ice moves quickest, leaving his
luggage at the edge, where it goes slowest. Thus
he intended to travel by express, leaving his things
to follow by goods train ! However, after some
time, he appeared to make no progress, so he got
out a book on glaciers to try and find out the reason
for the delay. He was much surprised when he read
that a glacier moves at about the same pace as the
hour hand of a watch !

Many thousands of years ago there were glaciers
in Scotland and England. We are certain of this,

as glaciers scratch and polish the rocks they pass

A FEW WORDS ABOUT GLACIERS

over as does nothing else. Stones are frozen into
the ice, and it holds them and uses them as we
might hold and use a sharply-pointed instrument,
scratching the rock over which the mighty mass
is slowly passing. In addition to the scratches, the
ice polishes the rock till it is quite smooth, writing
upon it in characters never to be effaced the history
of past events. Another thing which proves to us
that these icy rivers were in many places where
there are no glaciers now, is the boulders we find
scattered about. These boulders are sometimes of
a kind of rock not found anywhere near, and so we
know that they must have been carried along on
that wonderful natural luggage-train, and dropped
off it as it melted. We find big stones in North
Wales which must have come on a glacier beginning
in Scotland ! Glacier-polished rocks are found along
the whole of the west coast of Norway, and there
are boulders near Geneva, in Switzerland, which
have come from the chain of Mount Blanc, 60
miles away.

So you see that the glaciers of the Alps are far
smaller than they were at one time, and that in many
places where formerly there were huge glaciers,
there are to-day none. The Ice Age was the

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

time when these great glaciers existed, but the
subject of the Ice Age is a difficult and thorny
one, which is outside the scope of my information
and of this book.

CHAPTER III

AVALANCHES

T\/rANY of the most terrible accidents in the
Alps have been due to avalanches, and per-
haps, as avalanches take place from different causes
and have various characteristics, according to whether
they are of ice, snow, or dtbris, some account of them
may not be out of place.

We may briefly classify them as follows : —

1. Ice avalanches, only met with on or near

glaciers.

2. Dust avalanches, composed of very light,

powdery snow.

3. Compact avalanches (Grund or ground ava-

lanches, as the Germans call them), con-
sisting of snow, earth, stones, trees, and
anything which the avalanche finds in its
path. These take place only in winter and
spring, while the two other kinds happen on
the mountains at any season.
15

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

An ice avalanche is easily understood when it
is borne in mind that a glacier is always moving.
When this river of ice comes to the edge of a preci-
pice, or tries to crawl down a very steep cliff, it
splits across and forms tottering crags of ice, which
lean over more and more till they lose their balance
and go crashing down the slope. Some of the ice
is crushed to powder by its fall, yet many blocks
generally survive, and are occasionally heaped up
in such huge masses below that they form another
glacier on a small scale. If a party of mountaineers
passes under a place overhung by threatening ice,
they are in great danger, though at early morning,
before the sun has loosened the frozen masses, the
peril is less. Sometimes, too, if the distance to be
traversed is very short and the going quite easy, it
is safe enough to dash quickly across.

Dust avalanches occur when a heavy fall of light,
powdery snow takes place on frozen hillsides or
ice-slopes, and so long as there is no wind or dis-
turbance, all remains quiet, and inexperienced
people would think there was no danger. But in
reality dust avalanches are the most to be feared
of any, for they fall irregularly in unexpected places,
and their power is tremendous. While all seems

calm and peaceful, suddenly a puff of wind or the

A TUNNEL 300 FEET LONG THROUGH AN AVALANCHE.
Tree trunks, etc., can be seen embedded in it.

A.N AVALANCHK NEAR BoUVERET, LAKE OF GlCNEVA.

To face p. 17.

AVALANCHES

passage of an animal disturbs the delicately-balanced
masses, and then woe betide whoever is within reach
of this frightful engine of destruction. First, the
snow begins to slide gently down, then it gathers
pace and volume, and even miles away the thunder
of its fall can be heard as it leaps from ledge to
ledge. Covered with a cloud of smoking, powdery
dust, it is a veritable Niagara of giant height, and
as it descends towards the forests, it carries with it
whatever it finds in its path. Trees are mown
down with as much ease as the tender grass of
spring. Houses are lifted from the ground and
tossed far away.

An avalanche is preceded by a blast even more
destructive than the masses of snow which it hurls
along. As it advances with ever-increasing rapidity
the air in front is more and more compressed as the
avalanche rushes on with lightning-like speed behind
it. The wind sweeps everything before it, and many
are the tales related by those who have survived or
witnessed a display of its power. On one occasion more
than a hundred houses were overwhelmed by a huge
avalanche at Saas (Prattigau, near Davos), and during
the search afterwards the rescue party found amidst
the ruins a child lying asleep and uninjured in his

cradle, which had been blown to some distance from
B 17

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

his home, while close by stood a basket containing
six eggs, none of which were broken. I have myself
seen a row of telegraph posts in an Alpine valley in
winter thrown flat on the ground by the air preceding
an enormous avalanche, which itself did not come
within 300 yards of them. It is a very wonderful
thing that persons buried beneath an avalanche can
sometimes hear every word spoken by a search party,
and yet not a sound that they utter reaches the ears
of those outside. A great deal of air is imprisoned
between the particles of snow, and so it is possible
for those overwhelmed by an avalanche to live inside
it for hours. Cases have been known where a man,
buried not far below the surface, has been able to
melt a hole to the outer air with his breath, and
eventually free himself from his icy prison. On
1 8th January, 1885, enormous avalanches fell in
some of the mountainous districts of northern Italy,
houses, cattle, crops, and granaries being carried
away, and many victims buried beneath the ruins.
Some touching episodes of wonderful escapes were
related. " For instance, at Riva, in the valley of Susa,
a whole family, consisting of an old woman of seventy,
her two daughters, her four nieces, and a child four
months old, were buried with their house in the snow,

exposed apparently to certain death from cold and

AVALANCHES

hunger. But the soldiers of the Compagnie Alpine,
hearing of the sad case, worked with all their might
and main to save them, and at last they were found
and brought out alive, the brave old grandmother
insisting that the children should be saved first, and
then her daughters, saying that their lives were more
precious than her own." The soldiers, who worked
with a will above all praise, were obliged in several
cases to construct long galleries in the snow in order
to reach the villages, which were sometimes buried
beneath 40 feet of snow.

Compact avalanches, though very terrible on
account of their frequently great size, can be more
easily guarded against than dust avalanches, because
they always fall in well-defined channels. A compact
avalanche consists of snow, earth, stones, and trees,
and comes down in times of thaw. Many fall in
early spring in Alpine valleys, and though it is not
unusual for them to come right across high roads,
the fatal accidents are comparatively few. The
inhabitants know that wherever, high up on the hills,
there is a hollow which may serve as a reservoir or
collecting-basin for the snow, and below this a funnel
or shoot, there an avalanche may be expected. Often
they take means to prevent one starting, for an
avalanche, whose power is irresistible when once it has

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

begun to move quickly, is very easily kept from
mischief if it is not allowed a running start. The
best of all ways for preventing avalanches is to plant
the gullies with trees, but where this cannot be done,
rows of stakes driven into the ground will serve to
hold up the snow, and where the hillside is extremely
steep, and much damage would be caused if an
avalanche fell, stone walls are built one above another
to keep the soil and the snow together, very much as
we see on precipitous banks overlooking English
railways.

The driving roads over Alpine passes are in places
exposed to avalanches in winter. At the worst spots
galleries of stone are built, through which the sleighs
can pass in perfect safety, and if an avalanche fell
while they were inside it would pass harmlessly over
their heads. On the Albula Pass, in Switzerland, as
soon as the avalanches come down, tunnels are cut in
the snow through them, and are in constant use till
early summer.

Occasionally houses or churches are built in the
very path of an avalanche. A V-shaped wall, called
an avalanche-breaker, is put behind, and this
cuts the snowy stream in two parts, which passes on
harmlessly on either side of the building. Some-
times avalanche-breakers of snow, hardened into

AVALANCHES

ice by throwing water over them, are con-
structed behind barns which have been put in
exposed places.

In order that an avalanche may get up speed
enough to commence its swift career, the slope the
snow rests on where it starts must be at an angle of
from 30^ to 35° at least.

CHAPTER IV

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS: WHAT THEY ARE
AND WHAT THEY DO

is no profession drawing its members
from the peasant class which requires a com-
bination of so many high and rare qualities as that
of a mountain guide. Happily, the dwellers in hill
countries seem usually more noble in mind and
robust of frame than the inhabitants of plains, and
all who know them well must admit that among
Alpine guides are to be found men whose intelli-
gence and character would rank high in any class
of life.

I have usually noticed that the abilities and
duties of a guide are little understood by the non-
climber, who often imagines that a guide's sole
business is to know the way and to carry the
various useless articles which the beginner in
mountaineering insists on taking with him.

Guiding, if it sometimes does include these duties,

EDOUARD CUPELIN OF CHAMOMX.

The Guide with whom Mrs. Aubrey Le Blond commenced
her climbing.

To /ace p. 22.

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

is far more than this. The first-class guide must
be the general of the little army setting out to
invade the higher regions. He need not know
the way — in fact, it sometimes happens that he
has never before visited the district — but he must
be able to find a way, and a safe one, to the
summit of the peak for which his party is bound.
An inferior guide may know, from habit, the usual
way up a mountain, but, should the conditions of
ice and snow alter, he is unable to alter with them
and vary his route. You may ask : " How does a
guide find his way on a mountain new to him?'*
There are several means open to him. If the peak
is well known, as is, say, the Matterhorn, he will
have heard from other guides which routes have
been followed, and will know that if he desires to
take his traveller up the ordinary way he must go
past the Schwarz-see Hotel, and on to the ridge
which terminates in the Hornli, making for the
hut which he has seen from below through the
telescope. Then he remembers that he must cross
to the east face, and while doing so he will notice
the scratches on the rocks from the nailed boots
of previous climbers. Now, mounting directly up-
ward, he will pick out the passages which seem
easiest, until, passing the ruined upper hut, he

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

comes out on the ridge and looks down the tre-
mendous precipice which overhangs the Matterhorn
Glacier. This ridge, he knows, he simply has to
follow until he reaches the foot of a steep face of
rock some 50 feet high, down which hangs a chain.
He has heard all about this bit of the climb since
his boyhood, and he tells his traveller that, once
on the top of the rock, all difficulty will be over,
and the final slope to the summit will be found a
gentle one. So it comes to pass that the party
reaches the highest pinnacle of the great mountain
without once diverging from the best route. Occasion-
ally the leading guide may take with him as second
guide a man from the locality, but most climbers
will prefer to keep with them the two guides they
are used to.

It is not only on mountains that a guide is able
to find his way over little known ground. Many
years ago Melchior Anderegg came to stay with
friends in England, and arrived at London Bridge
Station in the midst of a thick London fog. " He
was met by Mr Stephen and Mr Hinchliff," writes
his biographer in The Pioneer of the Alps, "who
accompanied him on foot to the rooms of the
latter gentleman in Lincoln's Inn Fields. A day

or two later the same party found themselves at

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

the same station on their return from Woolwich.
' Now, Melchior,' said Mr Hinchliff, ' you will lead
us back home.' Instantly the skilful guide, who
had never seen a larger town than Berne, accepted
the situation, and found his way straight back
without difficulty, pausing for consideration only
once, as if to examine the landmarks at the foot
of Chancery Lane."

Now, let us see how a guide sets about exploring
a district where no one has previously ascended
the mountains. Of this work I have seen a good
deal, since in Arctic Norway my Swiss guides
and I have ascended more than twenty hitherto-
unclimbed peaks, and were never once unable to
reach the summit. Of course, the first thing is to
see the mountains, and, to do this, it is wise to
ascend something which you are sure, from its
appearance, is easy, and then prospect for others,
inspecting others again from them, and so on,
ad infinitum. You cannot always see the whole
of a route, and, perhaps, your leading guide will
observe : " We can reach that upper glacier by the
gully in the rocks." "What gully?" you ask.
"The one to the left. There must be one there.
Look at the heap of stones at the bottom!"
Thus, from the seen to the unseen the guide argues,

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

reading a fact from writing invisible to the un-
trained eye. Between difficulty and danger, too^
he draws a sharp distinction, and attacks with full
confidence a steep but firm wall of rock, turning
back from the easy-looking slope of snow ready
to set forth in an avalanche directly the foot
touches it.

And how is this proficiency obtained ? How does
the guide learn his profession?

In different ways, but he usually begins young,
tending goats on steep grassy slopes requiring
balance and nerve to move about over. Later on,
having decided that he wishes to be a guide, the
boy, at the age of seventeen or eighteen, offers him-
self for examination on applying for a certificate
as porter. The requirements for this first step are
not great : a good character, a sound physique, a
knowledge of reading and writing, and in most
Alpine centres the guild of guides will grant him
a license. He can now accompany any guide who
will take him, on any expedition that guide con-
siders within the porter's powers. His advancement
depends on his capacity. Should he quickly adapt
himself to the work, the guides will trust him more
and more, taking him on difficult ascents and

allowing him occasionally to share the responsi-

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

bility of leading on an ascent and coming down
last when descending. It will readily be seen that
the leader must never slip, and must, when those
who follow are moving, be able to hold them
should anything go wrong with them. The same
applies to the even more responsible position of
last man coming down. When a porter reaches
this stage, he is little inferior to a second guide.
He can now enter for his final examination. If he
is competent, he has no trouble in passing it, and
I fear that if the contrary — as is the case in many
of those who apply — he gets through easily enough.
At Chamonix the guides' society is controlled by
Government. The rules press hardly on the better
class of guides there, or would do so if observed ;
but a first-class guide is practically independent of
them, and mountaineers who know the ropes can
avoid the regulations. At Zermatt greater liberty
is allowed, and, indeed, I believe that everywhere
except at Chamonix a guide is free to go with any
climber who applies for him. At Chamonix the
rule is that the guides are employed in turn, so that
the absurd spectacle is possible of a man of real
experience carrying a lady's shawl across the Mer
de Glace, while a guide, who is little better than a

porter, sets out to climb the Aiguille de Dru ! How-

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

ever, the exceptions to this rule make a broad
way of escape, for a lady alone, a member of an
Alpine club, or a climber bent on a particularly
difficult ascent, may choose a guide.

The pay of a first-class guide is seldom by tariff,
for the class of climber who alone would have the
opportunity of securing the services of one of the
extremely limited number of guides of the first
order generally engages him for some weeks at a
time. Indeed, such men are usually bespoken a
year in advance. The pay offered and expected is
25 fr. a day, including all expeditions, or else 10 fr.
a day for rest days, 50 fr. for a peak, 25 fr. for a
pass, in both cases the guide to keep himself, while
travelling expenses and food on expeditions are
to be paid for by the employer. If a season is
fine and the party energetic, the former rate of
payment may be the cheaper. The second guide
generally receives two-thirds as much as the first
guide.

When a novice is about to choose a guide,
the advice of an experienced friend is invaluable,
but, failing this, it is worse than useless to rely
on inn-keepers, casual travellers, or the guide-chef
at the guides' office of the locality. From these

you can obtain the names of guides whom they

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

recommend, but before making any definite
arrangements, see the men themselves and care-
fully examine their books of certificates. In these
latter lie your security, if you read them intelli-
gently. Bear in mind that their value consists
in their being signed by competent mountaineers.
For instance, you may find something like the
following in a guide's book: —

A. Dumkopf took me up the Matterhorn to-day.
He showed wonderful sureness of foot and steadi-
ness of head, and I consider him a first-class guide,
and have pleasure in recommending him.

(Signed) A. S. SMITH.

Now, this is by some one you never heard of, and
a very little consideration will show you that A. S.
Smith is quite ignorant of climbing, judging by
his wording of the certificate. That which follows,
taken from the late Christian Aimer's Fuhrerbuch,
is the sort of thmg to carry weight : —

Christian Aimer has been our guide for three
weeks, during which time we made the ascents of
the Matterhorn (ascending by the northern and
descending by the southern route), Weisshorn (from
the Bies Glacier), Dent Blanche, and the Bietschhorn.
Every journey that we take under Aimer's guidance
confirms us in the high opinion we have formed of

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

his qualities as a guide and as a man. To the
utmost daring and courage he unites prudence and
foresight, seldom found in combination.

(Signed) W. A. B. COOLIDGE.
Visp, September 22nd, 1871.

It is when things go badly that a first-class
guide is so conspicuously above an inferior man.
In sudden storms or fog you may, if accompanied
by the former, be in security, while the latter may
get his party into positions of great peril. The
former will take you slowly and carefully, sounding,
perhaps, at every step, over what appears to you
a perfectly easy snow plateau. The latter goes
across a similar place unsuspecting of harm and
with the rope loose, and, lo and behold, you all
find yourselves in a hidden crevasse, and are
lucky if you escape with your lives. In the early
days of mountaineering guides were frequently drawn
from the chamois hunters of a district, a sport
requiring, perhaps, rather the quickness and agility
of the born climber and gymnast than the qualities
of calculation and prudence needed in addition
by the guide.

The most thoroughly unorthodox beginning to
a great career of which I have ever heard was
that of Joseph Imboden, of St Nicholas. When

A careful party descending a Rock Peak near Zermatt (the Unter Gabdhorn).

To face p. 31.

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

a boy his great desire, as he has often told me,
was to become a guide. But his father would not
consent to it, and apprenticed him to a boot-
maker. During the time he toiled at manu-
facturing and mending shoes he contrived to save
2ofr. He then, at the age of sixteen, ran
away from his employer, bought a note-book,
and established himself at the RifTel Hotel above
Zermatt. On every possible occasion he urged
travellers to employ him as guide.

" Where is your book, young man ? " they invari-
ably enquired.

He showed it to them, but the pages were
blank, and so no one would take him.

"At last," Imboden went on, "my 2ofr. were
all but spent, when I managed to persuade a
young Englishman to let me take him up Monte
Rosa. I told him I knew the mountain well, and
I would not charge him high. So we started. I
had never set foot on a glacier before or on any
mountain, but there was a good track up the snow,
and I followed this, and there were other parties
on Monte Rosa, so I copied what the guides did,
and roped my gentleman as I saw the guides
doing theirs. It was a lovely day, and we got on

very well, and my gentleman was much pleased,

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

and offered me an engagement to go to Chamonix
with him over high passes.

" Then I said to myself : ' Lies have been very
useful till now, but the time has come to speak
the truth, and I will do so.'

" So I said to him : 'Herr, until to-day I have never
climbed a mountain, but I am strong and active,
and I have lived among mountaineers and moun-
tains, and I am sure I can satisfy you if you will
take me.'

" He was quite ready to do so, and we crossed
the Col du G£ant and went up Mont Blanc, but
could do no more as the weather was bad. Then
he wrote a great deal in my book, and since then
I have never been in want of a gentleman to
guide."

Imboden's eldest son, Roman, began still younger.
When only thirteen he was employed by a member
of the Alpine Club, Mr G. S. Barnes, to carry his
lunch on the picnics he made with his friends on
the glaciers near Saas-Fe*e. The party eventually
undertook more ambitious expeditions, and one
evening, Roman, who was very small for his age,
was seen entering his native village at the head
of a number of climbers who had crossed the Ried
Pass, the little boy proudly carrying the largest

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

knapsack of which he could possess himself, a huge
coil of rope, and an ice-axe nearly as big as himself.
Thus commenced the career of an afterwards famous
Alpine guide.

During some fifteen seasons Imboden accom-
panied me on my climbs, frequently with Roman
as second guide. Once the latter went with me
to Dauphine, and, though only twenty-three at the
time, took me up the Meije, Ecrins, and other big
peaks, his father being detained at home by reason
of a bitter feud with the railway company about to
run a line through his farm. It is sad to look back
to the terrible ending of Roman's career at a period
when he was the best young guide in the Alps.
How little, in September 1895, as with the Im-
bodens, father and son, I stood on the summit of
the Lyskamm, did any of us think that never
again should we be together on a mountain, and
that from the very peak on which we were Roman
would be precipitated in one awful fall of hundreds
of feet, his companions, Dr Guntner and the second
guide Ruppen, also losing their lives.

I shall never forget the evening the news reached

us at Zermatt. Imboden was, as usual, my guide,

but Roman was leading guide to Dr Guntner. A

month or two previously this gentleman had written

C 33

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

to Roman asking if he would climb with him.
Roman showed the letter to his father, saying :
" I only go with English people, so I shall refuse."
" Do not reply in a hurry," was the answer ; " wait
and see what the Herr is like, he is coming here
soon." So Roman waited, saw Dr Guntner, liked
him immensely, and engaged himself, not only till
the end of the season, but also for a five months'
mountaineering expedition in the Himalayas. We
had all arrived at Zermatt from Fe*e a few days
before, and while we waited in the valley for good
weather, Dr Guntner, Roman Imboden, and Ruppen
went to the Monte Rosa Hut to get some exercise
next day on one of the easier peaks in the neigh-
bourhood. Dr Guntner much wished to try the
Lyskamm. Roman was against it, as the weather
and snow were bad. However, in the morning
there was a slight improvement, and as Dr Guntner
was still most anxious to attempt the Lyskamm
and Roman was so attached to him that he wished
to oblige him in every way he could, he consented
to, at any rate, go and look at it. Another party
followed, feeling secure in the wake of such first-
rate climbers, and, though the snow was atrocious
and the weather grew worse and worse, no one
turned back, and the summit was not far distant.

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

The gentleman in the second party did not feel
very well, and made a long halt on the lower part of
the ridge. Something seems to have aroused his
suspicions — some drifting snow above, it was said,
but I could never understand this part of the story —
and an accident was feared. Abandoning the ascent,
partly because of illness, partly on account of the
weather, the party went down. At the bottom of
the ridge, wishing to see if indeed something had
gone wrong, they bore over towards the Italian side
of the mountain. Directly the snowy plain at the
base of the peak became visible, their worst fears
were confirmed, for they perceived three black
specks lying close together. Examining them
through their glasses, it was but too certain that
what they saw were the lifeless bodies of Dr
Gunnter, Roman, and Ruppen.

Meanwhile, unconscious of the awful tragedy
being enacted that day on the mountains, I had
sent Imboden down to St Nicholas to see his
family, and, after dinner, was sitting writing in
the little salon of the Hotel Zermatt when two
people entered, remarking to each other, " What a
horrible smash on the Lyskamm ! "

I started to my feet. Something told me it must
be Roman's party. Crossing quickly over to the Monte

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Rosa Hotel, I found a silent crowd gathering in
the street. I went into the office.

"Who is it?" I asked.

" Roman's party," was the answer.

" How do you know ? "

" The other party has telephoned from the Riffel ;
we wait for them to arrive to hear particulars."

The crowd grew larger and larger in the dark
without. All waited in cruel suspense. I could
not bear to think of Imboden.

An hour passed. Then there was a stir among
the waiting throng, and I went out among them
and waited too.

The other party was coming. As the little band
filed through the crowd, one question only was
whispered.

" Is there any hope ? " Sadly shaking their heads,
the gentleman and his guides passed into Herr
Seiler's room, and there we learned all there was
to hear.

I need not dwell on Imboden's grief. He will
never be the same man again, though three more
sons are left him ; but I must put on record his first
words to me when I saw him : " Ruppen has left
a young wife and several children, and they
are very poor. Will you get up a subscription

STOPPED BY A BIG CREVASSE.
The party descended a little till a better passage was found by crossing a snow-bridge (page 37).

Till CI.NTI.K PEKSUASION OK THE Roi'E (page 39).

To /ace p. 37.

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

for them, ma'am, and help them as much as
possible ? "

It was done, and for Roman a tombstone was
erected, " By his English friends, as a mark of their
appreciation of his sterling qualities as a man and
a guide." Roman was twenty-seven at the time
of the accident. Neither Imboden nor I cared to
face the sad associations of the Alps after the death
of Roman, and the next and following years we
mountaineered in Norway instead.

It will have been noticed that a climber nearly
always takes two guides on an expedition. A
visitor at Zermatt, or some other climbing centre,
was heard to enquire : " Why do people take two
guides? Is it in case they lose one?"

There are several reasons why a climbing party
should not number less than three. In a difficult
place, if one slips, his two companions should be
able to check his fall immediately, whereas if the
party number but two the risk of an accident is
much greater. Again, a mishap to one of a party
of two is infinitely more serious than had there
been three climbing together. A glance at the
accompanying photograph of some mountaineers
reconnoitring a big crevasse will make my point
clear.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

A first-class guide will use the rope very differently
to an inferior man, who allows it to hang about in
a tangle, and to catch on every point of projecting
rock.

A friend of mine, a Senior Wrangler, was extremely
anxious to learn how to use a rope properly. So,
instead of watching the method of his guide, he
purchased a handbook, and learned by heart all the
maxims therein contained on the subject. Shortly
after these studies of his I was descending a steep
face of rock in his company. I was in advance,
and had gone down as far as the length of rope
between us permitted. A few steps below was
a commodious ledge, so I called out : " More rope,
please ! "

My friend hesitated, cleared his throat, and re-
plied : " I am not sure if I ought to move just now,
because, in Badminton^ on page so-and-so, line
so-and-so, the writer says

" Will you please give the lady more rope, sir ! "
called out Imboden.

" He says that if a climber finds himself in a
position —

" Will you go on, sir, or must I come down and
help you?" exclaimed Imboden from above, and,
at last, reluctantly enough, my friend moved on.

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

He is now a distinguished member of the Alpine
Club, so there is, perhaps, something to be said in
favour of learning mountaineering from precept
rather than example !

Occasionally a guide's manipulation of the rope
includes something more arduous than merely being
always ready to stop a slip. If his traveller is tired
and the snow slopes are long and wearisome, it may
happen that a guide will put the rope over his
shoulder and pull his gentleman. A mountaineer
of my acquaintance met a couple ascending the
Breithorn in this manner. It was a hot day, and
the amateur was very weary. Furthermore, he
could speak no German. So he entreated his com-
patriot to intercede for him with the guide, who
would insist on taking him up in spite of his
groans of fatigue.

"Why do you not return when the gentleman
wishes it?" queried the stranger.

" Sir," replied the guide, " he can go, he must go ;
he has paid me in advance ! "

The rope generally used by climbers is made in
England, is known as Alpine Club rope, and may
be recognised by the bright red thread which runs
through the centre of it. A climber should have his
own rope, and not trust to any of doubtful quality.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Should climbers desire to make ascents in seldom
explored parts of the world, such as the Caucasus, the
Andes, or the Himalayas, they must take Alpine
guides with them, for mountains everywhere have
many characteristics in common, and as a good rider
will go over a country unknown to him better than a
bad horseman to whom it is familiar, so will a skilful
guide find perhaps an easy way up a mountain pre-
viously unexplored, while the natives of the district
declare the undertaking an impossible one. The
Canadian Pacific Railway Company have recognised
the truth of this, and have secured the services of
Swiss guides for climbing in the Rockies.

The devotion of a really trustworthy guide to his
employer is a fine trait in his character. My guide,
Joseph Imboden, has often told me that for years the
idea that he might somehow return safe from an
expedition during which his traveller was killed, was
simply a nightmare to him. Directly the rope was
removed his anxiety commenced, and he was just as
careful to see that the climber did not slip in an easy
place as he had been on the most difficult part of the
ascent. It is an unbroken tradition that no St.
Nicholas guide ever comes home without his em-
ployer ; all return safely or all are killed. Alas ! the

list of killed is a long one from that little Alpine

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

village. In the churchyard, from the most recent
grave, covered by the beautiful white marble stone
placed there by Roman's English friends, to those
recalling accidents a score or more of years ago, there
lies the dust of many brave men. But I must not
dwell on the gloom of the hills ; let me rather recall
some of the many occasions when a guide, by his
skill, quickness, or resource, has saved his own and his
charges' lives.

A famous Oberlander, Lauener by name, noted for
his great strength, performed on one occasion a mar-
vellous feat. He was ascending a steep ice slope, at
the bottom of which was a precipice. He was alone
with his " gentleman," and to this fact, usually by no
means a desirable one, they both owed their lives.
A big boulder seemed to be so deeply imbedded in
the ice as to be actually part of the underlying rock.
The traveller was just below it, the guide had cut
steps alongside, and was above with, most happily,
the rope taut. As he gained the level of the boulder
he put his foot on it. To his horror it began to
move ! He took one rapid step back, and with a
superhuman effort positively swung his traveller clean
out of the steps and dangled him against the slope
while the rock, heeling slowly outwards, broke loose
from its icy fetters and plunged down the mountain

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

side, right across the very place where the climber
had been standing but an instant before.

A small man, whose muscles are in perfect condi-
tion, and who knows how to turn them to account,
can accomplish what would really appear to be almost
impossible for any one of his size.

Ulrich Aimer, eldest son of the famous guide, the
late Christian Aimer, saved an entire party on one
occasion by his own unaided efforts. They were de-
scending the Ober Gabelhorn, a high mountain near
Zermatt, and had reached a ridge where there is
usually a large cornice. Now, a cornice is an over-
hanging eave of snow which has been formed by the
wind blowing across a ridge. Sometimes cornices
reach an enormous size, projecting 50 feet or more
from the ridge. In climbing, presence of mind may
avail much if a cornice breaks — absence of body is,
however, infinitely preferable. Even first-class guides
may err in deciding whether a party is or is not at
an absolutely safe distance from a cornice. Though
not actually on that part of the curling wave of snow
which overhangs a precipice, the party may be in
danger, for when a cornice breaks away it usually
takes with it part of the snow beyond.

By some miscalculation the first people on the

rope walked on to the cornice. It broke, and they

«2
•S.a

§"3

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THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

dropped straight down the precipice below. But at
the same moment Ulrich saw and grasped the situa-
tion, and, springing right out on the other side, was
able to check them in their terrible fall. It was no-
easy matter for the three men, one of whom had dis-
located his shoulder, to regain the ridge, although
held all the time by Ulrich. Still it was at length
safely accomplished. The two gentlemen were so
grateful to their guide that they wished to give him
an acceptable present, and after much consideration
decided that they could not do better than present
him with a cow !

In trying to save a party which has fallen off a
ridge, either by the breaking of a cornice or by a slip,
I am told by first-rate guides that the proper thing to
do is to jump straight out into the air on the opposite
side. You thus bring a greater strain on the rope,
and are more likely to check the pace at which your
companions are sliding. I had a very awkward ex-
perience myself on one occasion when, owing to the
softness of the snow, we started an avalanche, and
the last guide, failing to spring over on the other side,
we were all carried off our feet. Luckily, we were
able, by thrusting our axes through into a lower
and harder layer of snow, to arrest our wild career.

Piz Palii, in the Engadine, was once nearly the
43

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

scene of a terrible tragedy through the breaking of
a cornice, the party only being saved by the quick-
ness and strength of one of their guides. The
climbers consisted of Mrs Wainwright, her brother-
in-law Dr B. Wainwright and the famous Pontresina
guides Hans and Christian Grass. Bad weather
overtook them during their ascent, and while they
were passing along the ridge the fog was so thick that
Hans Grass, who was leading, got on to the cornice.
He was followed by the two travellers, and then with
a mighty crack the cornice split asunder and preci-
pitated them down the icy precipice seen to the
right. Last on the rope came sturdy old Christian
Grass, who grasped the awful situation in an instant,
and sprang back. He held, but could, of course, do
no more. Now was the critical time for the three
hanging against the glassy wall. Both Hans and
the lady had dropped their axes. Dr Wainwright
alone retained his, and to this the party owed their
lives. Of course he, hanging at the top, could do
nothing ; but after shouting out his intentions to
those below, he called on Hans to make ready to
catch the axe when it should slip by him. A
moment of awful suspense, and the weapon was
grasped by the guide, who forthwith hewed a big
step out of the ice, and, standing on it, began the

§1
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J3« H

THE GUIDES OF THE AfcPS

toilsome work of constructing a staircase back to the
ridge. At last it was done, and when the three lay
panting on the snow above, it was seen that by that
time one strand only of the rope had remained intact.

The following account of a narrow escape from the
result of a cornice breaking has an especially sad
interest, for it was found amongst the papers of Lord
Francis Douglas after his tragic death on the Matter-
horn, and was addressed to the Editor of the Alpine
Journal. The ascent described was made on 7th July
1865, and the poor young man was killed on the I4th
of the same month.

The Gabelhorn is a fine peak, 1 3,365 feet high, in
the Zermatt district.

Lord Francis Douglas writes : — " We arrived at
the summit at 12.30. There we found that some one
had been the day before, at least to a point very
little below it, where they had built a cairn ; but they
had not gone to the actual summit, as it was a peak
of snow, and there were no marks of footsteps. On
this peak we sat down to dine, when, all of a sudden,
I felt myself go, and the whole top fell with a crash
thousands of feet below, and I with it, as far as the
rope allowed (some 12 feet). Here, like a flash of
lightning, Taugwald came right by me some 12
feet more ; but the other guide, who had only the

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

minute before walked a few feet from the summit to
pick up something, did not go down with the mass,
and thus held us both. The weight on the rope
must have been about 23 stone, and it is wonderful
that, falling straight down without anything to break
one's fall, it did not break too. Joseph Viennin then
pulled us up, and we began the descent to Zermatt."

Here, again, one of the guides saved the party
from certain destruction.

It is in time of emergency that a really first-rate
guide is so far ahead of an inferior man. In many
cases when fatal results have followed unexpected
bad weather or exceptionally difficult conditions of
a mountain, bad guiding is to blame, while the cases
when able guides have brought down themselves and
their employers from very tight places indeed, are
far more frequent than have ever been related.

A really wonderful example of a party brought
safely home after terrible exposure is related in
The Pioneers of the Alps. The well-known guides,
Andreas Maurer and Emile Rey, with an English
climber, had tried to reach the summit of the
Aiguille du Plan by the steep ice slopes above the
Chamonix Valley. " After step-cutting all day, they
reached a point when to proceed was impossible,
and retreat looked hopeless. To add to their diffi-

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

culties, bad weather came on, with snow and intense
cold. There was nothing to be done but to remain
where they were for the night, and, if they survived
it, to attempt the descent of the almost precipitous
ice-slopes they had with such difficulty ascended.
They stood through the long hours of that bitter
night, roped together, without daring to move, on a
narrow ridge, hacked level with their ice-axes. I know
from each member of the party that they looked
upon their case as hopeless, but Maurer not only
never repined, but affected rather to like the whole
thing, and though his own back was frozen hard to
the ice-wall against which he leaned, and in spite of
driving snow and numbing cold, he opened coat,
waistcoat and shirt, and through the long hours of
the night he held, pressed against his bare chest, the
half-frozen body of the traveller who had urged him
to undertake the expedition.

"The morning broke, still and clear, and at six
o'clock, having thawed their stiffened limbs in the
warm sun, they commenced the descent. Probably
no finer feat in ice-work has ever been performed
than that accomplished by Maurer and Rey on the
roth August 1880. It took them ten hours of con-
tinuous work to reach the rocks and safety, and
their work was done without a scrap of food, after

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

eighteen hours of incessant toil on the previous day,
followed by a night of horrors such as few can
realize." Had the bad weather continued, the party
could not possibly have descended alive, " and this
act of unselfish devotion would have remained
unrecorded ! "

Perhaps the most remarkable instance of endur-
ance took place on the Croda Grande. The party
consisted of Mr Oscar Schuster and the Primiero
guide, Giuseppe Zecchini. They set out on i/th
March 1900, from Gosaldo at 5.10 A.M., the weather
becoming unsettled as they went along. After they
had been seven hours on the march a storm arose,
yet, as they were within three-quarters of an hour
of the top of their peak, they did not like to turn
back. They duly gained the summit, the storm
momentarily increasing in violence, and then they
descended on the other side of the mountain till
they came to an overhanging rock giving a certain
amount of shelter. The guide had torn his gloves
to pieces during the ascent, and his fingers were raw
and sore from the difficult icy rocks he had climbed.
As the cold was intense, they now began to be very
painful. The weather grew worse and worse, and
the two unfortunate climbers were obliged to remain
in a hole scooped out of the snow, not only during

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

the night of the I7th, but also during the whole
day and night of the i8th. On the iQth, at 8 A.M.,
they made a start, not having tasted food for
forty-eight hours. Five feet of snow had fallen, and
the weather was still unsettled, but go they had
to. First they tried to return as they came, but
the masses of snow barred the way. They were
delayed so long by the terrible state of the mountain
that they had to spend another night out, and it
was not till 6 P.M. on the 2Oth, after great danger
that they reached Gosaldo. The guide, from whose
account in The Alpine Journal I have borrowed,
lost three fingers of his right hand and one of the
left from frost-bite ; the traveller appears to have
come off scot free.

CHAPTER V
THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS— (continued^.

/"T"AHE fathers of modern mountaineering were
A undoubtedly the two great Oberland guides,
Melchior Anderegg and Christian Aimer, who com-
menced their careers more than half a century ago.
The former is still with us, the latter passed away
some two years ago, accomplishing with ease expe-
ditions of first-rate importance till within a season
or two of his death. Melchior began his climbing
experiences when filling the humble duties of boots
at the Grimsel Inn. He was sent to conduct
parties to the glaciers, his master taking the fee,
while Melchior's share was the pourboire. His apti-
tude for mountain craft was soon remarked by the
travellers whom he accompanied, and in a lucky
hour for him — and indeed for all concerned — he
was regularly taken into the employ of Mr Walker
and his family. At that time Melchior could
speak only a little German in addition to his Ober-

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

land patois, and was quite unaccustomed to inter-
course with English people. He was most anxious,
however, to say the right thing, and thought he
could not do better than copy the travellers, so
Mr Walker was somewhat startled on finding him-
self addressed as " Pa-pa," while his children were
greeted respectively as " Lucy " and " Horace."
The friendship between Melchior and the surviving
members of Mr Walker's family has lasted ever
since, and is worthy of all concerned. Melchior
was born a guide, as he was born a gentleman,
and no one who has had the pleasure of his ac-
quaintance can fail to be impressed by his tact
and wonderful sweetness of disposition, which have
enabled him to work smoothly and satisfactorily
with other guides, who might well have felt some
jealousy at his career of unbroken success.

Melchior's great rival and friend, Christian Aimer,
was of a more impetuous disposition, but none the
less a man to be respected and liked for his sturdy
uprightness and devotion to his employers. The
romantic tale of his ascent of the Wetterhorn, which
first brought him into notice, has been admirably
told by Chief-Justice Wills in his " Wanderings
among the High Alps." Mr Wills, as he then
was, had set out from Grindelwald to attempt the

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

ascent of the hitherto unclimbed Wetterhorn. He
had with him the guides Lauener, Bohren, and
Balmat. The former, a giant in strength and
height, had determined to mark the ascent in a
way there should be no mistaking, so, seeking out
the blacksmith, he had a " Flagge," as he termed
it, prepared, and with this upon his back, he joined
the rest of the party. The " Flagge " was a sheet
of iron, 3 feet long and 2 broad, with rings to
attach it to a bar of the same metal 10 or 12 feet
high, which he carried in his hand. " He pointed
first to the ' Flagge,' and then, with an exulting
look on high, set up a shout of triumph which made
the rocks ring again."

The Wetterhorn is so well seen from Grindelwald
that it was natural some jealousy should arise as to
who should first gain the summit. At this time
Christian Aimer was a chamois hunter, and his
fine climbing abilities had been well trained in that
difficult sport. He heard of the expedition, and
took his measures accordingly.

Meanwhile Mr Wills' party, having bivouacked on
the mountain side, had advanced some way upwards
towards their goal, and were taking a little rest.
As they halted, "we were surprised," writes Mr
Wills, " to behold two other figures, creeping along

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

the dangerous ridge of rocks we had just passed.
They were at some little distance from us, but we
saw they were dressed in the guise of peasants."

Lauener exclaimed that they must be chamois
hunters, but a moment's reflection showed them
that no chamois hunter would come that way, and
immediately after they noticed that one of them
"carried on his back a young fir-tree, branches,
leaves, and all." This young man was Christian
Aimer, and a fitting beginning it was to a great career.

"We had turned aside to take our refresh-
ment," continues Mr Wills, " and while we were so
occupied they passed us, and on our setting forth
again, we saw them on the snow slopes, a good way
ahead, making all the haste they could, and evidently
determined to be the first at the summit."

The Chamonix guides were furious, declaring that
no one at Chamonix would be capable of so mean an
action, and threatening an attack if they met them
The Swiss guides also began to see the enormity
of the offence. "A great shouting now took place
between the two parties, the result of which was
that the piratical adventurers promised to wait for
us on the rocks above, whither we arrived very soon
after them. They turned out to be two chamois
hunters, who had heard of our intended ascent, and

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

resolved to be even with us, and plant their tree
side by side with our ' Flagge.' They had started
very early in the morning, had crept up the preci-
pices above the upper glacier of Grindelwald before
it was light, had seen us soon after daybreak, followed
on our trail, and hunted us down. Balmat's anger
was soon appeased when he found they owned the
reasonableness of his desire that they should not
steal from us the distinction of being the first to
scale that awful peak, and instead of administering the
fisticuffs he had talked about, he declared they were
' bons enfants ' after all, and presented them with
a cake of chocolate ; thus the pipe of peace was
smoked, and tranquility reigned between the rival
forces."

The two parties now moved upwards together,
and eventually reached the steep final slope of snow
so familiar to all who have been up the Wetterhorn.
They could not tell what was above it, but they
hoped and thought it might be the top.

At last, after cutting a passage through the cor-
nice, which hung over the slope like the crest of a
great wave about to break, Mr Wills stepped on
to the ridge. His description is too thrilling to be
omitted. "The instant before, I had been face to
face with a blank wall of ice. One step, and the

CHRISTIAN ALMKK, 1894.

To Jace p. 5-1.

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THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

eye took in a boundless expanse of crag and glacier,
peak and precipice, mountain and valley, lake and
plain. The whole world seemed to lie at my feet.
The next moment, I was almost appalled by the
awfulness of our position. The side we had come
up was steep ; but it was a gentle slope compared
with that which now fell away from where I stood.
A few yards of glittering ice at our feet, and then
nothing between us and the green slopes of Grin-
delwald, 9000 feet below. Balmat told me after-
wards that it was the most awful and startling
moment he had known in the course of his long
mountain experience. We felt as in the immediate
presence of Him who had reared this tremendous
pinnacle, and beneath the '"majestical roof 'of whose
blue heaven we stood poised, as it seemed, half-
way beneath the earth and sky."

Another notable ascent by Aimer of the Wetter-
horn was made exactly thirty years later, when,
with the youngest of his five sons (whom he was
taking up for the first time) and an English
climber he repeated as far as possible all the details
of his first climb, the lad carrying a young fir-tree,
as his father had done, to plant on the summit.
Finally, in 1896, Aimer celebrated his golden
wedding on the top of the mountain he knew so

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

well. He was accompanied by his wife, and the
sturdy old couple were guided by their sons.

But all guides are not the Melchiors or the
Aimers of their profession. Sometimes, bent on
photography from the easier peaks, I have taken
whoever was willing to come and carry the camera,
and on one occasion had rather an amusing ex-
perience with an indifferent specimen of the Pon-
tresina Filhrerverein. All went well at first, and
our large party, mostly of friends who knew nothing
of climbing, trudged along quite happily till after
our first halt for food. When we started again
after breakfast our first adventure occurred. We
had one first-class guide with us in the person of
Martin Schocker, but were obliged to make up the
number required for the gang by pressing several
inferior men into our service. One of these was
leading the first rope-full (if such an expression may
be allowed), and with that wonderful capacity for
discovering crevasses where they would be avoided
by more skilful men, he walked on to what looked
like a firm, level piece of snow, and in a second
was gone ! The rope ran rapidly out as we flung
ourselves into positions of security, and as we had
kept our proper distances the check came on us
all as on one. We remained as we were, while the

THE GUIDES OF THE ALPS

second caravan advanced to our assistance. Its
leading guide, held by the others, cautiously ap-
proached the hole, and seeing that our man was
dangling, took measures to haul him up. This was
not very easy, as the rope had cut deeply into the
soft snow at the edge ; but with so large a party
there was no real difficulty in effecting a rescue.
At last our guide appeared, very red in the face,
puffing like a grampus, and minus his hat. As
soon as he had regained breath he began to talk
very fast indeed. It seemed that the crown of his
hat was used by him for purposes similar to those
served by the strong rooms and safes of the rich ;
for in his head-gear he was in the habit of storing
family documents of value, and among others packed
away there was his marriage certificate! The hat
now reposed at the bottom of a profound crevasse,
and his lamentations were, in consequence, both loud
and prolonged. I don't know what happened when
he got home, but for the rest of the day he was a
perfect nuisance to us all, explaining by voice and
gesture, repeated at every halt, the terrifying ex-
perience and incalculable loss he had suffered.
Another unlucky result of his dive into the crevasse
was its effect upon a lady member of the party,
who had been induced, by much persuasion, to

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

venture for the first time on a mountain. So
startled was she by his sudden disappearance, that
she jibbed determinedly at every crack in the glacier
we had to cross, and, as they were many, our
progress became slower and slower, and it was very
late indeed before we regained the valley.

Mr Clinton Dent, writing in The Alpine Journal,
justly remarks : " Guides of the very first rank are
still to be found, though they are rare ; yet there
are, perhaps, as many of the first rank now as
there have ever been. The demand is so pro-
digiously great now that the second-class guide,
or the young fully qualified guide who has made
some little reputation for brilliancy, is often em-
ployed as leader on work which may easily overtax
his powers. There is no more pressing question
at the present time in connection with mountain-
eering, than the proper training of young guides."

CHAPTER VI

AN AVALANCHE ON THE HAUT-DE-CRY

'T'^HE Haut-de-Cry is not one of the giants of the
Alps. It is a peak of modest height but
fine appearance, rising abruptly from the valley of
the Rhone. In 1864 it had never been climbed
in winter, and one of our countrymen, Mr Philip
Gosset, set out in February of that year to attempt
its ascent. He had with him a friend, Monsieur
Boissonnet, the famous guide Bennen, and three
men from a village, named Ardon, close by, who
were to act as local guides or porters.

The party had gained a considerable height on the
mountain when it became necessary to cross a couloir
or gully filled with snow. It was about 150 feet
broad at the top, and 400 or 500 at the bottom.
" Bennen did not seem to like the look of the snow
very much," writes Mr Gosset in The Alpine Journal.
" He asked the local guides whether avalanches ever
came down this couloir, to which they answered that

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

our position was perfectly safe. We were walking in
the following order — Bevard, Nance, Bennen, myself,
Boissonnet, and Rebot. Having crossed over about
three-quarters of the breadth of the couloir, the two
leading men suddenly sank considerably above their
waists. Bennen tightened the rope. The snow was
too deep to think of getting out of the hole they had
made, so they advanced one or two steps, dividing
the snow with their bodies. Bennen turned round
and told us he was afraid of starting an avalanche ;
we asked whether it would not be better to return
and cross the couloir higher up. To this the three
Ardon men opposed themselves ; they mistook the
proposed precaution for fear, and the two leading
men continued their work.

" After three or four steps gained in the aforesaid
manner, the snow became hard again. Bennen had
not moved — he was evidently undecided what he
should do. As soon, however, as he saw hard
snow again, he advanced, and crossed parallel to,
but above, the furrow the Ardon men had made.
Strange to say, the snow supported him. While
he was passing, I observed that the leader, Bevard,
had ten or twelve feet of rope coiled round his
shoulder. I of course at once told him to uncoil

it, and get on to the arete, from which he was

AN AVALANCHE ON THE HAUT-DE-CRY

not more than fifteen feet distant. Bennen then
told me to follow. I tried his steps, but sank up
to my waist in the very first. So I went through
the furrows, holding my elbows close to my body,
so as not to touch the sides. This furrow was
about twelve feet long, and as the snow was good
on the other side, we had all come to the false
conclusion that the snow was accidentally softer
there than elsewhere. Bennen advanced ; he had
made but a few steps when we heard a deep,
cutting sound. The snow-field split in two, about
fourteen or fifteen feet above us. The cleft was at
first quite narrow, not more than an inch broad.
An awful silence ensued ; it lasted but a few seconds,
and then it was broken by Bennen's voice, 'Wir
sind alle verloren.' J His words were slow and
solemn, and those who knew him felt what they
really meant when spoken by such a man as
Bennen. They were his last words. I drove my
alpenstock into the snow, and brought the weight
of my body to bear on it. I then waited. It was
an awful moment of suspense. I turned my head
towards Bennen to see whether he had done the
same thing. To my astonishment I saw him turn
round, face the valley, and stretch out both arms.

'"We are all lost."
61

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

The ground on which we stood began to move
slowly, and I felt the utter uselessness of any
alpenstock. I soon sank up to my shoulders, and
began descending backwards. From this moment
I saw nothing of what had happened to the rest
of the party. With a good deal of trouble I
succeeded in turning round. The speed of the
avalanche increased rapidly, and before long I
was covered up with snow. I was suffocating,
when I suddenly came to the surface again. I
was on a wave of the avalanche, and saw it before
me as I was carried down. It was the most awful
sight I ever saw. The head of the avalanche
was already at the spot where we had made our
last halt. The head alone was preceded by a thick
cloud of snow-dust ; the rest of the avalanche was
clear. Around me I heard the horrid hissing of
the snow, and far before me the thundering of
the foremost part of the avalanche. To prevent
myself sinking again, I made use of my arms,
much in the same way as when swimming in a
standing position. At last I noticed that I was
moving slower; then I saw the pieces of snow in
front of me stop at some yards distant ; then the
snow straight before me stopped, and I heard on a

large scale the same creaking sound that is

AN AVALANCHE ON THE HAUT-DE-CRY

produced when a heavy cart passes over frozen
snow in winter. I felt that I also had stopped,
and instantly threw up both arms to protect my
head, in case I should again be covered up. I
had stopped, but the snow behind me was still in
motion ; its pressure on my body was so strong
that I thought I should be crushed to death. This
tremendous pressure lasted but a short time; I
was covered up by snow coming from behind me.
My first impulse was to try and uncover my
head — but this I could not do, the avalanche had
frozen by pressure the moment it stopped, and
I was frozen in. Whilst trying vainly to move
my arms, I suddenly became aware that the hands
as far as the wrist had the faculty of motion.
The conclusion was easy, they must be above the
snow. I set to work as well as I could ; it was
time for I could not have held out much longer.
At last I saw a faint glimmer of light. The
crust above my head was getting thinner, but I
could not reach it any more with my hands ; the idea
struck me that I might pierce it with my breath.
After several efforts I succeeded in doing so, and
felt suddenly a rush of air towards my mouth, I saw
the sky again through a little round hole. A dead
silence reigned around me ; I was so surprised to be

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

still alive, and so persuaded at the first moment that
none of my fellow-sufferers had survived, that I did not
even think of shouting for them. I then made vain
efforts to extricate my arms, but found it impos-
sible ; the most I could do was to join the ends
of my fingers, but they could not reach the snow
any longer. After a few minutes I heard a man
shouting ; what a relief it was to know that I was
not the sole survivor ! — to know that perhaps he was
not frozen in and could come to my assistance! I
answered ; the voice approached, but seemed un-
certain where to go, and yet it was now quite near.
A sudden exclamation of surprise ! Rebot had
seen my hands. He cleared my head in an instant,
and was about to try and cut me out completely,
when I saw a foot above the snow, and so near to
me that I could touch it with my arms, although
they were not quite free yet. I at once tried to
move the foot ; it was my poor friend's. A pang
of agony shot through me as I saw that the foot
did not move. Poor Boissonnet had lost sensation,
and was perhaps already dead.

" Rebot did his best. After some time he wished
me to help him, so he freed my arms a little more, so
that I could make use of them. I could do but little,
for Rebot had torn the axe from my shoulder as

AN AVALANCHE ON THE HAUT-DE-CRY

soon as he had cleared my head (I generally carry an
axe separate from my alpenstock — the blade tied to
the belt, and the handle attached to the left shoulder).
Before coming to me Rebot had helped Nance out of
the snow ; he was lying nearly horizontally, and was
not much covered over. Nance found Bevard, who
was upright in the snow, but covered up to the head.
After about twenty minutes, the two last-named guides
came up. I was at length taken out ; the snow had
to be cut with the axe down to my feet before I
could be pulled out. A few minutes after i P.M. we
came to my poor friend's face. ... I wished the
body to be taken out completely, but nothing could
induce the three guides to work any longer, from the
moment they saw it was too late to save him. I
acknowledge that they were nearly as incapable of
doing anything as I was. When I was taken out of
the snow the cord had to be cut. We tried the end
going towards Bennen, but could not move it ; it
went nearly straight down, and showed us that there
was the grave of the bravest guide the Valais ever had
or ever will have."

Thus ends one of the most magnificent descriptions
of an avalanche which has ever been written. The
cause of the accident was a mistaken opinion as to

the state of winter snow, which is very different to
E 65

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

the snow met with in summer, and of which at that
time the best guides had no experience.

A RACE FOR LIFE

Once upon a time, in the year 1872, a certain
famous mountaineer, Mr F. F. Tuckett, had with his
party a desperate race for life. The climbers numbered
five in all, three travellers and two guides, and had
started from the Wengern Alp to ascend the Eiger.
Nowadays there is a railway to the Wengern Alp,
and so thousands of English people are familiar with
the appearance of the magnificent group of moun-
tains— the Eiger, the Monch, and the Jungfrau —
which they have before them as they pass along in
the train. Suffice it here to say that the way up the
Eiger lies over a glacier, partly fed by another high
above it, from which, through a narrow, rocky gully,
great masses of ice now and again come dashing
down. Unless the fall is a very big one, climbers
skirting along the edge of this glacier are safe enough,
but on the only occasion I have been up the Eiger, I
did not fancy this part of the journey.

To return to Mr Tuckett and his friends. They
were advancing up the snowy valley below the
funnel-shaped opening through which an avalanche

occasionally falls. The guide, Ulrich Lauener, was

A RACE FOR LIFE

leading, and, remarks Mr Tuckett, " He is a little
hard of hearing ; and although his sight, which had
become very feeble in 1870, is greatly improved, both
ear and eye were perhaps less quick to detect any
unexpected sound or movement than might other-
wise have been the case. Be this as it may, when all
of a sudden I heard a sort of crack somewhere up
aloft, I believe that, for an instant or two, his was
the only head not turned upwards in the direction
from which it seemed to proceed, viz., the hanging
ice-cliff ; but the next moment, when a huge mass of
se>ac broke away, mingled apparently with a still
larger contingent of snow from the slopes above,
whose descent may, indeed, have caused, or at least
hastened, the disruption of the glacier, every eye was
on the look-out, though as yet there was no indica-
tion on the part of any one, nor I believe any thought
for one or two seconds more, that we were going to
be treated to anything beyond a tolerably near view
of such an avalanche as it rarely falls to anyone's lot
to see. Down came the mighty cataract, filling the
couloir to its brim ; but it was not until it had tra-
versed a distance of 600 to 800 feet, and on suddenly
dashing in a cloud of frozen spray over one of the
principal rocky ridges with which, as I have said,
the continuity of the snow-slope was broken, appeared

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

as if by magic to triple its width, that the idea of
danger to ourselves flashed upon me. I now per-
ceived that its volume was enormously greater than
I had at first imagined, and that, with the tremen-
dous momentum it had by this time acquired, it
might, instead of descending on the right between us
and the rocks of the Klein Eiger, dash completely
across the base of the Eiger itself in front of us,
attain the foot of the Rothstock ridge, and then,
trending round, sweep the whole surface of the
glacier, ourselves included, with the besom of de-
struction.

" I instinctively bolted for the rocks of the Roth-
stock — if haply it might not be too late — yelling
rather than shouting to the others, * Run for your
lives ! '

" Ulrich was the last to take the alarm, though
the nearest to the danger, and was thus eight or ten
paces behind the rest of us, though he, too, shouted to
Whitwell to run for his life directly he became aware
of the situation. But by this time we were all strain-
ing desperately through the deep, soft snow for dear
life, yet with faces turned upwards to watch the swift
on-coming of the foe. I remember being struck with
the idea that it seemed as though, sure of its prey, it

wished to play with us for a while, at one moment

A RACE FOR LIFE

letting us imagine that we had gained upon it, and
were getting beyond the line of its fire, and the next,
with mere wantonness of vindictive power, suddenly
rolling out on its right a vast volume of grinding
blocks and whirling snow, as though to show that it
could out-flank us at any moment it chose.

" Nearer and nearer it came, its front like a mighty
wave about to break, yet that still * on the curl hangs
poising ' ; now it has traversed the whole width of the
glacier above us, taking a somewhat diagonal direc-
tion ; and now run, oh, run ! if ever you did, for here
it comes straight at us, still outflanking us, swift,
deadly, and implacable ! The next instant we saw
no more ; a wild confusion of whirling snow and
fragments of ice — a frozen cloud — swept over us,
entirely concealing us from one another, and still we
were untouched — at least I knew that I was — and
still we raw. Another half second and the mist had
passed, and there lay the body of the monster, whose
head was still careering away at lightning speed far
below us, motionless, rigid, and harmless. It will
naturally be supposed that the race was one which
had not admitted of being accurately timed by the
performers ; but I believe that I am speaking with
precision when I say that I do not think the whole
thing occupied from first to last more than five or six

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

seconds. How narrow our escape was may be
inferred from the fact that the spot where I halted
for a moment to look back after it had passed, was
found to be just twelve yards from its edge, and I don't
think that in all we had had time to put more than
thirty yards between us and the point where our wild
rush for the rocks first began. Ulrich's momentary
lagging all but cost him his life ; for in spite of his
giant stride and desperate exertions he only just
contrived to fling himself forwards as the edge of the
frozen torrent dashed past him. This may sound
like exaggeration, but he assured me that he felt
some fragments strike his legs ; and it will perhaps
appear less improbable when it is considered that he
was certainly several yards in the rear, and when the
avalanche came to a standstill, its edge, intersecting
and concealing our tracks along a sharply defined
line, rose rigid and perpendicular, like a wall of
cyclopean masonry, as the old Bible pictures repre-
sent the waters of the Red Sea, standing ' upright as
an heap ' to let the Israelites through.

"The avalanche itself consisted of a mixture, in
tolerably equal proportions, of blocks of se>ac of all
shapes and sizes, up to irregular cubes of four or five
feet on a size, and snow thoroughly saturated with

water — the most dangerous of all descriptions to

A RACE FOR LIFE

encounter, as its weight is enormous. We found that
it covered the valley for a length of about 3300 feet,
and a maximum breadth of 1500, tailing off above and
below to $00 or 1000 feet. Had our position on the
slope been a few hundred feet higher or lower, or in
other words, had we been five minutes earlier or later,
we must have been caught beyond all chance of
escape."

There was no rashness which can be blamed in the
party finding themselves in the position described.
Avalanches, when they fall down the gully, hardly
ever come so far as the one met with on this occasion,
and they very seldom fall at all in the early morning.
The famous guide, Christian Aimer, while engaged
on another expedition, visited the spot after the
avalanche had fallen, and said that it was the mightiest
he had ever seen in his life. Mr Tuckett roughly
estimated its total weight as about 450,000 tons.

CHAPTER VII

CAUGHT IN AN AVALANCHE ON THE MATTERHORN

/HpvHE following exciting account is taken from an
article by Herr Lorria, which appeared in The
St Moritz Post for 28th January 1888. The injuries
received were so terrible that, I believe, Herr Lorria
never entirely ceased to feel their effects.

The party consisted of two Austrian gentlemen,
Herren Lammer and Lorria, without guides, who, in
1887, had made Zermatt their headquarters for
some climbs. They had difficulty in deciding which
ascent to begin with, especially as the weather had
recently been bad, and the peaks were not in first-
class condition. Herr Lorria writes :

" I fancied the Pointe de Zinal as the object of our
tour; but Lammer, who had never been on the
Matterhorn, wished to climb this mountain by the
western flank — a route which had only once before
been attacked, namely by Mr Penhall. We had
with us the drawing of Penhall's route, published in

The Alpine Journal.

CAUGHT IN AN AVALANCHE

"After skirting a jutting cliff, we reached the
couloir at its narrowest point. It was clear that
we had followed the route laid down in The Alpine
Journal ; and although Mr Penhall says that the
rocks here are very easy, I cannot at all agree with
him.

" We could not simply cross over the couloir, for,
on the opposite side, the rocks looked horrible: it
was only possible to cross it some forty or fifty metres
higher. We climbed down into the couloir : the ice
was furrowed by avalanches. We were obliged to
cut steps as we mounted upwards in a sloping direc-
tion. In a quarter of an hour we were on the other
side of the couloir. The impression which the couloir
made upon me is best shown by the words which I
at the moment addressed to Lammer : ' We are now
completely cut off.' We saw clearly that it was
only the early hour, before the sun was yet upon the
couloir, which protected us from danger. Once more
upon the rocks, we kept our course as much as pos-
sible parallel to the N.W. arete. We clambered
along, first over rocks covered with ice, then over
glassy ledges, always sloping downwards. Our pro-
gress was slow indeed ; the formation of the rock sur-
face was ever becoming more unfavourable, and the
covering of ice was a fearful hindrance.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

" Such difficult rocks I had rarely seen before ;
the wrinkled ledges of the Dent Blanche were easy
compared to them. At i P.M., we were standing on
a level with the " Grand Tower " ; the summit lay
close before us, but as far as we could see, the rocks
were completely coated with a treacherous layer of
ice. Immediately before us was a precipitous ice
couloir. All attempts to advance were fruitless,
even our crampons were of no avail. Driven back !
If this, in all cases, is a heavy blow for the mountain
climber, we had here, in addition, the danger which
we knew so well, and which was every moment
increasing. It was one o'clock in the afternoon ;
the rays of the sun already struck the western wall
of the mountain ; stone after stone, loosened from its
icy fetters, whistled past us. Back ! As fast as
possible back ! Lammer pulled off his shoes and
I stuffed them into the knapsack, holding also our
two ice-axes. As I clambered down the first I was
often obliged to trust to the rope. The ledges,
which had given us trouble in the ascent, were
now fearfully difficult. Across a short ice slope, in
which we had cut steps in the ascent, Lammer was
obliged, as time pressed, to get along without his
shoes. The difficulties increased ; every moment
the danger became greater; and already whole

CAUGHT IN AN AVALANCHE

avalanches of stones rattled down. The situation
was indeed critical. At last, after immense diffi-
culty, we reached the edge of the couloir at the
place we had left it in the ascent. But we could
find no spot protected from the stones ; they
literally came down upon us like hail. Which
was the more serious danger, the threatening
avalanches in the couloir or the pelting of the
stones which swept down from every side? On
the far side of the couloir there was safety, as all
the stones must in the end reach the couloir, which
divides the whole face of the mountain into two
parts. It was now five o'clock in the afternoon ;
the burning rays of the sun came down upon us,
and countless stones whirled through the air. We
remembered the saying of Dr Giissfeldt, in his
magnificent description of the passage of the Col
du Lion, that only at midnight is tranquility
restored. We resolved, then, to risk the short
stretch across the couloir. Lammer pulled on his
shoes ; I was the first to leave the rocks. The
snow which covered the ice was suspiciously soft,
but we had no need to cut steps. In the avalanche
track before us on the right a mighty avalanche is
thundering down ; stones leap into the couloir, and
give rise to new avalanches.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

" Suddenly my consciousness is extinguished, and
I do not recover it till twenty-one days later. I
can, therefore, only tell what Lammer saw. Gently
from above an avalanche of snow came sliding
down upon us ; it carried Lammer away in spite
of his efforts, and it projected me with my head
against a rock. Lammer was blinded by the
powdery snow, and thought that his last hour was
come. The thunder of the roaring avalanche was
fearful ; we were dashed over rocks, laid bare in
the avalanche track, and leaped over two immense
bergschrunds. At every change of the slope we flew
into the air, and then were plunged again into the
snow, and often dashed against one another. For
a long time it seemed to Lammer as if all were over,
countless thoughts went thronging through his brain,
until at last the avalanche had expended its force,
and we were left lying on the Tiefenmatten Glacier.
Our fall was estimated at from 550 to 800 English
feet.

" I lay unconscious, quite buried in the snow ;
the rope had gone twice round my neck and bound
it fast. Lammer, who quickly recovered con-
sciousness, pulled me out of the snow, cut the
rope, and gave me a good shake. I then awoke, but

being delirious, I resisted with all my might my

CAUGHT IN AN AVALANCHE

friend's endeavours to pull me out of the track of
the avalanche. However, he succeeded in getting
me on to a stone (I was, of course, unable to walk),
and gave me his coat ; and having thus done all
that was possible for me, he began to creep down-
wards on hands and knees. He could not stand,
having a badly sprained ankle; except for that he
escaped with merely a few bruises and scratches.
At length Lammer arrived at the Stockje hut, but
to his intense disappointment there was nobody
there. He did not pause to give vent to his annoy-
ance, however, but continued his way down. Twice
he felt nearly unable to proceed, and would have
abandoned himself to his fate had not the thought
of me kept him up and urged him on. At three
o'clock in the morning he reached the Staffel Alp,
but none of the people there were willing to venture
on the glacier. He now gave up all hope that I
could be saved, though he nevertheless sent a mes-
senger to Herr Seiler, who reached Zermatt at
about 4.15 A.M.

" In half an hour's time a relief party set out from
Zermatt. When the party reached the Staffel Alp,
Lammer was unconscious, but most fortunately he
had written on a piece of paper the information
that I was lying at the foot of Penhall's couloir.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

They found me about half- past eight o'clock.
I had taken off all my clothes in my delirium,
and had slipped off the rock on which Lammer
had left me. One of my feet was broken and both
were frozen into the snow, and had to be cut out
with an axe.

"At 8 P.M. I was brought back to Zermatt, and
for twenty days I lay unconscious at the Monte
Rosa Hotel hovering between life and death."

Herr Lorria pays a warm tribute to the kind-
ness of Seiler and his wife, and the skill of Dr de
Courten, who saved his limbs when other doctors
wished to amputate them. He ends his graphic
account as follows : " The lesson to be learnt from
our accident is not ' Always take guides,' but rather
' Never try the Penhall route on the Matterhorn,
except after a long series of fine, hot days, for other-
wise the western wall of the mountain is the most
fearful mouse-trap in the Alps.'"

THE ICE AVALANCHE OF THE ALTELS.

Those who climbed in the Alps during the summer
of 1895 will recollect how wonderfully dry and warm
the weather was, denuding the mountains of snow
and causing a number of rock- falls, so that many

THE ICE AVALANCHE OF THE ALTELS

ascents became very dangerous, and, in my own
case, after one or two risky encounters with falling
stones, we decided to let the rock peaks alone for
the rest of that campaign.

In The Alpine Journal of August 1897, Mr Charles
Slater gives an admirable description of a great ice-
avalanche which overwhelmed one of the fertile pas-
tures near the well-known Gemmi route. From this
account I make some extracts, which will give an
idea of the magnitude of the disaster and its unusual
character, as the ice from a falling glacier rarely ever
approaches cultivated land and dwellings.

The scene of the catastrophe was at Spitalmatten,
a pasturage with chalets used in summer by the
shepherds, in a basin at the beginning of the valley
which extends to the pass. Steep slopes bound it
on the east, and above them rises the glacier-capped
peak of the Altels. The glacier was well seen from
the Gemmi path, and all tourists who passed that
way must have noticed and admired it. It is be-
lieved that a big crevasse, running right across the
glacier, was noticed during the month of August, and
the lower part of the glacier seemed to be completely
cut off from the upper portion by it.

On the evening of loth September, the Vice-
President of the commune of Leuk (to which com-

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

mune the Alp belonged) arrived at the chalets to
settle the accounts of the past summer. Several of
the women had already gone down, taking some of
the calves with them, and the rest of the inhabitants
of the little settlement were to follow next day.
The weather was warm but cloudy, with a strong
fohn wind.1

On the morning of nth September, about 5 A.M.,
the few people who lived at or near the Schwaren-
bach Inn heard a roar like an earthquake, and felt
a violent blast of wind. A servant, rushing out of the
inn, saw " what appeared to be a white mist stream-
ing down the AltePs slope. The huge mass of ice
forming the lower end of the glacier had broken
away, rushed down the mountain side, leapt from
the Tateleu plateau into the valley, and, like an
immense wave, had swept over the Alp, up the
Uschinen Grat, as if up a 1500 sea-wall, and

1 The exact origin of the fohn wind is still disputed. It is
thought to have no connection with the sirocco, a wind which
in Europe blows always from the south, bears with it some-
times particles of sand, and is impregnated with damp from its
passage over the Mediterranean. The fohn blows from any
quarter (though usually from the south), and is a dry, warm
wind, which causes the snow to melt rapidly. In German
Switzerland it is called the Schneefresser, or Snow Devourer,
and it has been said that if no fohn visited the Alps, Switzer-
land would still be in the glacial period.

THE ICE AVALANCHE OF THE ALTELS

even sent its ice- foam over this into the distant
Uschinen Thai."

The only other eye-witness of this appalling catas-
trophe was a traveller who was walking up the
Kanderthal from Frutigen in the early morning.
" He saw in the Gemmi direction a fearful whirl-
wind, with dust and snow-clouds, and experienced
later a cold rain falling from a clear sky, the rain
being probably due to the melting of the ice-cloud."

The scene after the disaster must have been a
terrible one. "Winter had apparently come in the
midst of summer " ; the whole pasture was covered
with masses of ice. " The body of the Vice- President
was found lying 180 yards away from the hut.
Another body had been flung into the branches of
an uprooted tree, while a third was found still
holding a stocking in one hand, having been killed
in the act of dressing."

There was no chance of escape for the people, as
only a minute or little more elapsed from the time
the avalanche started till it reached the settlement.
The cows were nearly all killed, " they seem to have
been blown like leaves before a storm to enormous
distances."

A year later, much of the avalanche was still un-

melted.

F 81

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

The thickness of the slice of glacier which broke
away is believed to have been about 25 feet, and it
fell through a vertical height of 4700 feet. It moved
at about the average rate of two miles a minute.

" It is difficult to realise these vast figures, and a
few comparisons have been suggested which may
help to give some idea of the forces which were
called into play. The material which fell would
have sufficed to bury the City of London to the
depth of six feet, and Hyde Park and Kensington
Gardens would have disappeared beneath a layer
six-and-a-half feet deep. The enormous energy of
the moving mass may be dimly pictured when we
think that a weight of ice and stones ten times
greater than the tonnage of the whole of England's
battle-ships plunged on to the Alp at a speed of
nearly 300 miles an hour."

An almost exactly similar accident had occurred in
1782.

AN AVALANCHE WHICH ROBBED A LADY OF
A GARMENT

One of the greatest advantages in mountaineer-
ing as a sport is the amount of enjoyment it gives

even when climbing-days are past. While actually

AN AVALANCHE ON THE SCHALLIHORN

engaged in the ascent of difficult peaks our minds
are apt to be entirely engrossed with the problem
of getting up and down them, but afterwards we
delight in recalling every interesting passage, every
glorious view, every successful climb ; and perhaps
this gives us even more pleasure than the experi-
ences themselves.

If we happen to have combined photography with
mountaineering we are particularly to be envied, for
an hour in the company of one of our old albums
will recall with wonderful vividness many an incident
which we should have otherwise forgotten.

Turning over some prints which long have lain
on one side, a wave of recollection brings before
me some especially happy days on snowy peaks,
and makes me long to bring a breath of Alpine
air to the cities, where for so much of the year dwell
many of my brother and sister climbers.

With the help of the accompanying photographs,
which will serve to generally illustrate my remarks,
let me relate what befell me during an ascent of
the Schallihorn — a peak some twelve thousand and
odd feet high, in the neighbourhood of Zermatt.

Now, although Zermatt is a very familiar play-
ground for mountaineers, yet even as late as ten
years ago one or two virgin peaks and a fair

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

number of new and undesirable routes up others
were still to be found. I had had my share
of success on the former, and was at the time of
which I write looking about for an interesting and
moderately safe way, hitherto untrodden, up one of
the lesser-known mountains in the district. My
guide and my friend of many years, Joseph
Imboden, racked his brains for a suitable novelty,
and at length suggested that as no one had
hitherto attacked the south-east face of the Schalli-
horn we might as well see if it could be ascended.
He added that he was not at all sure if it was
possible — a remark I have known him to make on
more than one peak in far away Arctic Norway,
when the obvious facility of an ascent had robbed
it of half its interest. However, in those days I
still rose satisfactorily to observations of that sort,
and was at once all eagerness to set out. We
were fortunate in securing as our second guide
Imboden's brilliant son Roman, who happened
to be disengaged just then. A further and little
dreamed-of honour was in store for us, as on our
endeavouring to hire a porter to take our things
to the bivouac from the tiny village of Taesch
no less a person than the mayor volunteered to
accompany us in that capacity.

MK. WHVMI>KK. ZKK.MATT, 1896.

MRS. AI-HREY LE BLOND ON A MOUNTAIN Tor.

Photographed by her Guide, Joseph Imloden

A HOT DAY IN M ,,, -\VIMKK OJJ TIIK SUMMIT OK A PKAK 13,000 I-KKT in ;:..
Jo face p. 85.

AN AVALANCHE ON THE SCHALLIHORN

So we started upwards one hot afternoon, bound
for some overhanging rocks, which, we were assured
by those who had never visited the spot, we should
find. For the regulation routes up the chief peaks
the climber can generally count on a hut, where,
packed in close proximity to his neighbours, he lies
awake till it is time to get up, and sets forth on his
ascent benefited only in imagination by his night's
repose. Within certain limits the less a man is
catered for the more comfortable he is, and the
more he has to count on himself the better are the
arrangements for his comfort. Thus I have found
a well-planned bivouac under a great rock infinitely
preferable to a night in a hut, and a summer's
campaign in tents amongst unexplored mountains
more really luxurious than a season in an over-
thronged Alpine hotel.

Two or three hours' walking took us far above
the trees and into the region of short grass and
stony slopes. Eventually we reached a hollow at the
very foot of our mountain, and here we began to
look about for suitable shelter and a flat surface on
which to lay the sleeping-bags. The pictured rocks
of inviting appearance were nowhere to be found,
and what there were offered very inferior accom-
modation. But the weather was perfect, and we had

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

an ample supply of wraps, so we contented ourselves
with what protection was given by a steep, rocky
wall, and turned our attention to the Schallihorn.
The proposed route could be well seen. Imboden
traced out the way he intended taking for a long
distance up the mighty precipice in front of us.
There were tracks of avalanches at more than one
spot, and signs of falling stones were not infrequent.
My guide thought he could avoid all danger by
persistently keeping to the projecting ridges, and
his idea was to descend by whatever way we went
up, as the ordinary route is merely a long, unin-
teresting grind.

We now lit a fire, made soup and coffee, and soon
after got into our sleeping-bags. The night passed
peacefully, save for the rumble of an occasional
avalanche, when great masses of ice broke loose on
the glacier hard by. Before dawn we were stirring,
and by the weird light of a huge fire were making
our preparations for departure. It gradually grew
light as our little party moved in single file towards
the rocky ramparts which threatened to bar the way
to the upper world. As we ascended a stony slope,
Imboden remarked, " Why, ma'am, you still have on
that long skirt ! Let us leave it here ; we can pick

it up on our return." Now, in order not to be

AN AVALANCHE ON THE SCHALLIHORN

conspicuous when starting for a climbing expedi-
tion, I always wore an ordinary walking-skirt over
my mountaineering costume. It was of the lightest
possible material, so that, if returning by a different
route, it could be rolled up and carried in a knapsack.
I generally started from the bivouac without it ; but
the presence on this occasion of the Mayor of Tasch
had quite overawed me ; hence the unusual elegance
of my get-up. Lest I be thought to dwell at undue
length on so trifling a matter, I may add that the
skirt had adventures that day of so remarkable a
nature that the disappearance of Elijah in his chariot
can alone be compared to them.

The skirt was now duly removed, rolled up and
placed under a heavy stone, which we marked with
a small cairn, so as to find it the more easily on our
return. Shortly after, the real climb began, and,
putting on the rope, we commenced the varied
series of gymnastics which make life worth living
to the mountaineer. We had several particularly un-
pleasant gullies to cross, up which Imboden glanced
hastily and suspiciously, and hurried us over, fearing
the fall of stones. At length we came for a little
time to easier ground, and as the day was now
intensely hot the men took off their waiscoats, leav-
ing them and their watches in a hole in the rock.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Above this gentler slope the mountain steepened
again, and a ridge in the centre, running directly
upwards, alone gave a possible route to the summit.
This ridge, at first broad and simple, before long
narrowed to a knife-edge. There was always enough
to hold ; but the rocks were so loose and rotten that
we hardly dared to touch them. Spread out over
those treacherous rocks, adhering by every finger
in our endeavour to distribute our weight, we slowly
wormed ourselves upwards. Such situations are
always trying. The most brilliant cragsman finds
his skill of little avail. Unceasing care and patience
alone can help him here. Throwing down the most
insecure of the blocks, which fell sometimes on
one side, sometimes on the other of the ridge, we
gradually advanced. The conversation ran rather
in a groove : " Not that one, ma'am, or the big
fellow on the top will come down ! " " Don't touch
the red one or the little white one ! " " Now come up
to where I am without stepping on any of them ! n
" Roman ! look out ! I'm letting this one go ! "
Then bang ! bang ! bang ! and a disgusting smell
as of gunpowder, while a great boulder dashed in
leaps towards the glacier below, grinding and
smashing itself to atoms before it reached the

bottom.

AN AVALANCHE ON THE SCHALLIHORN

Thus with untiring thoroughness Imboden led his
little band higher and higher, till at last the summit
came in sight and our muscles and overstrained
nerves saw rest ahead.

I readily agreed to Imboden's decision that we
should go down the ordinary way.

After descending for a considerable distance we
stopped, and the guides held a short consultation
It seemed that Roman was anxious to try and fetch
the waistcoats and watches and my skirt, and his
father did not object.

Wishing him the best of good-luck, we parted by
the rocks and trudged on over the snow towards
Zermatt. We moved leisurely, as people who climb
for pleasure, with no thought of record-breaking ; and
as it was late in September it was dusk as we neared
the village.

Later in the evening I saw Imboden, and asked for
news of Roman. He had not arrived, and as time
passed we grew uneasy, knowing the speed at which,
if alone, he would descend. By 10 P.M. we were
really anxious, and great was our relief when a figure
with knapsack and ice-axe came swinging up the
narrow, cobbled street.

It was an exciting tale he had to tell, though it
took a good deal of danger to impress Roman with

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

the notion that there was any at all. Soon after
leaving us he came to the first gully. Just as he
was about to step into it he heard a rumble. Springing
back, he squeezed himself under an overhanging piece
of rock, while a huge mass of stones and snow dashed
down the mountain, some of the fragments passing
right over him — though, thanks to his position, none
actually touched him. When tranquility was restored
he dashed across to the other side, and immediately
after a fresh fall commenced, which lasted for a con-
siderable time. At length he approached without
injury the spot he was looking for, far down on the
lower slopes, where my skirt had been left, and here he
felt that all danger was past. But the extraordinarily
dry season had thrown out most people's calcula-
tions, and at that very moment he was really in the
direst peril. As he ran gaily down the slope of earth
and stones a tremendous crash brought him to a
standstill, and looking back he saw the smoke of a
mighty avalanche of ice coming in a huge wave over
the cliffs above. He rushed for shelter, which was
near at hand, and from beneath the protection of a
great rock he saw the avalanche come on and on
with the roar of artillery, and he gazed, fascinated,
as it swept majestically past his place of refuge. He
could see the mound where lay my skirt with its

AN AVALANCHE ON THE SCHALLIHORN

heap of stones. And now a striking sight met his
eyes, for before ever the seething mass could touch
it the whole heap rose from the ground and was
carried far out of the path of the avalanche, borne
along by the violence of the wind which preceded
it.

The late John Addington Symonds has related in
one of his charming accounts of winter in the Alps
that an old woman, sitting peaceably before her
chalet door in the sun, was transported by the wind
of an avalanche to the top of a lofty pine-tree, where,
quite uninjured, she calmly awaited assistance ; but
that my skirt should have such an adventure brought
very strongly home to me the dangers Roman had
passed through that afternoon and the escape we had
had ourselves.

CHAPTER VIII

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

T T was in 1786 that the summit of Mont Blanc was
reached for the first time. It had been attained on
only eleven occasions, and no accidents had happened
on it when, in 1820, the catastrophe since known as
the Hamel accident, took place.

Dr Joseph Hamel was a Russian savant, and Coun-
sellor of State to the Czar. He much desired to
ascend Mont Blanc in order that he might make
scientific experiments on the top, and in August
1820, he came to Chamonix for the purpose. It is
of no use, and of little interest to general readers, if
I enter into particulars of the controversy which this
expedition excited. Some declared that Dr Hamel
urged his guides to proceed against their better
judgment. Others say that the whole party — which
included two Englishmen and nine guides — were
anxious to continue the ascent, and, indeed, saw no

reason for doing otherwise. Certain it is, however

MONT BLANC.

The black line shows the probable course the bodies took
during their 40 years' descent in the ice.

Ey a local Photographer.

Nicolas Winhart, escaping on this occasion with his lif

afterwards perished on the Col des Grands Montets i

^75 (page 99).

By a local Photographe

A Banker at Geneva, who was a most active searcher for

Henry Ark Wright's body. He was killed in a duel in 1869.

It is interesting to compare the old-fashioned costume with

that of the present day climber.

By a local Photographer.
To face p. 92

THE RELICS.

The rope was found round the body but worn through i
two places by the hip bones. The handkerchief, shirt froi
with studs, prune stones, watch chain, pencil case, cartridg
spike of alpenstock, coins, glove tied with spare bootlac
etc., all belonged to Henry Arkwright.

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

that in those days no one was a judge of the con-
dition of snow, and able to tell from its consistency
if an avalanche were likely or not.

The party, which at first numbered fourteen, duly
reached the rocks of the Grands Mulcts, where it
was usual to spend the night. The sky clouded over
towards evening, and there was a heavy thunder-
storm during the night. Next morning the weather
was too unsettled for the ascent to be tried, so a
couple of guides were sent down to Chamonix for
more provisions, and a second night was spent in camp.
Early next morning, in beautiful weather, a start was
made, one of the members of the party, Monsieur
Selligne, who felt ill, and two guides leaving the
others and going down to Chamonix. The rest safely
reached the Grand Plateau. The snow, hardened by
the night's frost, had thus far supported the weight
of the climbers and made their task easy. It was,
however, far from consolidated beneath the crust, as
the warm wind of the previous days had made it
thoroughly rotten.

All were in excellent spirits during the halt for
breakfast on the Grand Plateau, that snowy valley
which is spread out below the steeper slopes of the
final mass of the mountain. Dr Hamel employed

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

part of his time in writing a couple of notes an-
nouncing his arrival on the top of Mont Blanc
leaving a blank on each to insert the hour. These
notes he intended to despatch by carrier pigeon,
the bird being with them, imprisoned in a large
kettle.

At 10.30 they reached the foot of what is now
known as the Ancien Passage. This is a steep
snow-slope leading almost directly to the top of
Mont Blanc. When the snow is sound, and the ice
above does not overhang much, this route is as safe
as any other ; but a steep slope covered with a layer
of rotten snow is always most dangerous. At that
time, the Ancien Passage was the only way ever
taken up Mont Blanc.

They had ascended a considerable distance, the
snow being softer and softer as they rose, and they
formed a long line one behind the other, not mount-
ing straight up, but making their way rather across
the slope. Six guides walked at the head of the
troop, and then, after an interval, the two English-
men and two more guides, Dr Hamel being last.

All seemed to be going excellently. Everyone
plodded along, and rejoiced to be so near the cul-
minating point of the expedition. No thought of
danger disturbed them.

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

Suddenly there was a dull, harsh sound. Imme-
diately the entire surface of the snow began to move.
" My God ! The avalanche ! We are lost ! " shrieked
the guides. The slope at Dr Hamel's end of the
party was not steep, — barely more than 30° — but up
above it was more rapid. The leading guides were
carried straightway off their feet. Hamel was also
swept away by the gathering mass of snow. Using
his arms as if swimming, he managed to bring his
head to the surface, and as he did so the moving
snow slowed down and stopped. In those few
moments, some 1200 feet had been descended. At
first Dr Hamel thought that he alone had been
carried away, but presently he saw his English friends
and their guides — no more.

"Where are the others?" cried Dr Hamel.
Balmat, who a moment before had let his brother
pass on to the head of the party, wrung his hands
and answered, "The others are in the crevasse!"
The crevasse! Strange that all had forgotten
it ! The avalanche had poured into it, filling it
to the brim.

"A terrible panic set in. The guides lost all
self-control. Some walked about aimlessly, uttering
loud cries. Matthieu Balmat sat in sullen silence,
rejecting all kind offices with an irritation which

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

made it painful to approach him. Dornford threw
himself on the snow in despair, and Henderson,
says Hamel, 'was in a condition which made one
fear for the consequences.' A few minutes later
two other guides extricated themselves, but the
remaining three were seen no more. Hamel and
Henderson descended into the crevasse, and made
every possible attempt to find the lost guides, but
without avail ; the surviving guides forced them
to come out, and sore at heart they returned to
Chamonix.

"The three guides who were lost were Pierre
Carrier, Pierre Balmat, and Auguste Tairraz. They
were the three foremost in the line and felt the
first effects of the avalanche. Matthieu Balmat,
who was fourth in the line, saved himself by
his great personal strength and by presence of
mind. Julien DeVouassoud was hurled across the
crevasse, and Joseph Marie Couttet was dragged
out senseless by his companions, 'nearly black
from the weight of snow which had fallen upon
him.' " *

Scientific men had already begun to give
attention to the movement of glaciers. In addition
to this, cases had occurred where the remains of

1 The Annals of Mont Blanc, by C. E. Mathews.
96

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

persons lost on glaciers had been recovered years
afterwards. A travelling seller of hats, crossing
the Tschingel Glacier on his way from the Bernese
Oberland to Valais, had fallen into a crevasse.
Eventually his body and his stock of merchandise
was found at the end of the glacier. Near the
Grimsel, the remains of a child were discovered in
the ice. An old man remembered that many
years before a little boy had disappeared in that
locality and must doubtless have been lost in a
crevasse. These facts were probably known to
Dr Hamel, and he made the remark that perhaps
in a thousand years, the bodies of his guides
might be found. Forbes, who knew more of the
subject, believed that, travelling in the ice, they
would reach the end of the glacier in forty
years.

He was right, for on I5th August 1861, his "bold
prediction was verified, and the ice give up its
dead." On that day, the guide, Ambrose Simond,
who happened to be with some tourists on the lower
part of the Glacier des Bossons, discovered some
pieces of clothing and human bones. From that
time until 1864 the glacier did not cease to render
up, piece by piece, the remains and the belongings

of the three victims.

G 97

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

An accident, very similar to that which befell Dr
Hamel's party, took place in 1866. This has for me a
very special interest, as I have met the brother of the
Englishman who perished, and have examined all the
documents, letters, newspaper cuttings, and photo-
graphs relating to the catastrophe. The guide,
Sylvain Couttet, an old friend of mine, since dead,
has given a moving account of the sad event.
Sylvain knew Mont Blanc better than any other
native of Chamonix, and though when I knew him he
had given up guiding, he desired to add one more
ascent of the great white peak to his record, for at that
time he had been up ninety-nine times. I accordingly
invited him to come with my party when we climbed
it from the Italian side. He did so — he had never
been up that way before — and I well remember how
he slipped himself free of the rope after the last rocks,
saying, "Ah, you young people, you go on. The
old man will follow." Alone he arrived on the top,
strode about over its snowy dome as if to say good-
bye, and was just as ready for his work as any of us
when, in a stiff gale, we descended the ridge of the
Bosses.

But to return to what is known as the Arkwright
accident.

In the year 1866, Henry Arkwright, a young man

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

of twenty-nine, aide-de-camp to the Lord-Lieutenant
of Ireland, was travelling in Switzerland with his
mother and two sisters. Writing from Geneva on
3rd September to a member of his family, he said,
" We have ventured to try our luck higher up, as the
weather is so warm and settled — as otherwise I should
leave Switzerland without seeing a glacier." On what
an apparent chance — a run of fine weather — do great
issues depend !

The party shortly afterwards moved on to
Chamonix, where many excursions were made,
thanks to the beautiful weather which still continued.
It had now become quite the fashion to go up Mont
Blanc, so one is not surprised that Henry Arkwright,
though no climber, decided to make the attempt.
One of his sisters went with him as far as the hut at
the Grands Mulcts, and they were accompanied by the
guide Michael Simond, and the porters Joseph and
Fran9ois Tournier. Another party proposed also to
go up. It consisted of two persons only, Sylvain
Couttet and an employe of the Hotel Royal named
Nicolas Winhart, whom Sylvain had promised to
conduct to the top when he had time and opportunity.
It was the I2th October when they left Chamonix,
and all went well across the crevassed Glacier des
Bossons, and they duly reached their night quarters.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

While the climbers were absent next day, Miss
Fanny Arkwright employed herself with writing and
finishing a sketch for her brother.

Meanwhile the two parties, having set out at an
early hour, advanced quickly up the snow-slopes.
The days were short, and it was desirable to take
the most direct route. For years the Ancien
Passage had been abandoned, and the more circuitous
way by the Corridor used instead. However, the
snow was in good order, and as up to then no acci-
dents had happened through falling ice, this danger
was little dreaded, though it is sometimes a very
real one in the Ancien Passage. So the guides
advised that this should be the way chosen, and both
parties directed their steps accordingly. Sylvain
Couttet has left a remarkable description of the
events which followed, and portions of this I now
translate from his own words as they appeared in
The Alpine Journal.

The two parties were together at the beginning of
the steep snow-slope. Sylvain's narrative here com-
mences : — " I said to the porter, Joseph Tournier, who
had thus far been making the tracks, * Let us pass on
ahead ; you have worked long enough. To each of
us his share ! ' It was to this kindly thought for my

comrade that, without the slightest doubt, Winhart

100 .

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

and I owe our salvation ! We had been walking for
about ten minutes near some very threatening seracs
when a crack was heard above us a little to the right.
Without reasoning, I instinctively cried, * Walk
quickly ! ' and I rushed forwards, while someone
behind me exclaimed, ' Not in that direction ! '

" I heard nothing more ; the wind of the avalanche
caught me and carried me away in its furious descent.
4 Lie down ! ' I called, and at the same moment I
desperately drove my stick into the harder snow
beneath, and crouched down on hands and knees, my
head bent and turned towards the hurricane. I felt
the blocks of ice passing over my back, particles of
snow were swept against my face, and I was deafened
by a terrible cracking sound like thunder.

"It was only after eight or ten minutes that the
air began to clear, and then, always clinging to my
axe, I perceived Winhart 6 feet below me, with
the point of his stick firmly planted in the ice. The
rope by which we were tied to each other was
intact. I saw nothing beyond Winhart except the
remains of the cloud of snow and a chaos of ice-
blocks spread over an area of about 600
feet.

" I called out at the top of my voice — no answer —

I became like a madman, I burst out crying, I began

101

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

to call out again — always the same silence — the
silence of death.

" I pulled out my axe, I untied the rope which
joined us, and both of us, with what energy re-
mained to us, with our brains on fire and our hearts
oppressed with grief, commenced to explore in every
direction the enormous mountain of shattered ice-
blocks which lay below us. Finally, about 150 feet
further down I saw a knapsack — then a man. It was
Fran£ois Tournier, his face terribly mutilated, and
his skull smashed in by a piece of ice. The cord had
been broken between Tournier and the man next
to him. We continued our search in the neighbour-
hood of his body, but after two hours' work could find
nothing more. It was vain to make further efforts !
Nothing was visible amongst the masses of debris^
as big as houses, and we had no tools except my
axe and Winhart's stick. We drew the body of
poor Tournier after us as far as the Grand Plateau,
and with what strength remained to us we de-
scended as fast as we could towards the hut at
the Grands Mulcts, where a terrible ordeal awaited
me — the announcement of the catastrophe to Miss
Arkwright.

" The poor child was sitting quietly occupied with
her sketching.

102

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

" ' Well, Sylvain ! ' she cried on seeing me, ' All has
gone well ? '

" * Not altogether, Mademoiselle,' I replied, not
knowing how to begin.

" Mademoiselle looked at me, noticed my bent head
and my eyes full of tears — she rose, came towards me
— * What is the matter ? Tell me all ! '

" I could only answer, ' Have courage, Mademoiselle/

" She understood me. The brave young girl knelt
down and prayed for a few moments, and then got
up pale, calm, dry-eyed. * Now you can tell me
everything,' she said, ' I am ready.'

" She insisted on accompanying me at once to
Chamonix, where she, in her turn, would have to
break the sad tidings to her mother and sister.

" At the foot of the mountain the sister of Made-
moiselle met us, happy and smiling.

"Do not ask me any more details of that awful
day, I have not the strength to tell them to you."

Thirty-one years passed, when, in 1897, Colonel
Arkwright, a brother of Henry Arkwright's, re-
ceived the following telegram from the Mayor of
Chamonix :

103

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

"Restes Henry Arkvvright peri Mont Blanc 1866
retrouves."

Once more the glacier had given up its dead, and
during these thirty-one years the body of Henry
Arkwright had descended 9000 feet in the ice and
had been rendered back to his family at the foot of
the glacier.

The remains of the Englishman were buried at
Chamonix, and perhaps never has so pathetic a ser-
vice been held there as that which consigned to the
earth what was left of him who thirty-one years
before had been snatched away in the mighty grip
of the avalanche.

Many belongings of the lost one's came by degrees
to light. A pocket-handkerchief was intact, and on
it as well as on his shirt-front, Henry Arkwright's
name and that of his regiment written in marking-
ink were legible. Though the shirt was torn to
pieces, yet two of the studs and the collar-stud
were still in the button-holes and uninjured. The
gold pencil-case (I have handled it), opened and
shut as smoothly as it had ever done, and on the
watch-chain there was not a scratch. A pair of gloves
were tied together with a boot-lace which his sister
remembered taking from her own boot so that he

might have a spare one, and coins, a used cart-

104

LOST IN THE ICE FOR FORTY YEARS

ridge, and various other odds and ends, were all
recovered from the ice.

The remains of the guides had been found and
brought down soon after the accident, but that of
Henry Arkwright had been buried too deeply to
be discovered.

In connection with the preservation of bodies in
ice the following extract from The Daily Telegraph
for roth May 1902 is of great interest. It is
headed :

MAMMOTH 8000 YEARS OLD

Reuter's representative has had an interview with
Mr J. Talbot Clifton, who has lately returned from
an expedition in Northern Siberia, undertaken for the
purpose of discovering new species of animals.

Mr Clifton gives the following account of the Herz
mammoth, which he saw on his arrival at Irkutsk.
41 It is," he said, " about the size of an elephant, which
it resembles somewhat in form. It possesses a trunk,
has five toes instead of four, and is a heavy beast. It
is supposed to have lived about 8000 years ago. Its
age was probably not more than twenty-six years —
very young for a mammoth. Its flesh was quite com-
plete, except for a few pieces which had been bitten
at by wolves or bears. Most of the hair on the body
had been scraped away by ice, but its mane and near
foreleg were in perfect preservation and covered with

105

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

long hair. The hair of the mane was from 4 in. to
5 in. long, and of a yellowish brown colour, while its
left leg was covered with black hair. In its stomach
was found a quantity of undigested food, and on its
tongue was the herbage which it had been eating
when it died. This was quite green."

106

CHAPTER IX

THE MOST TERRIBLE OF ALL ALPINE TRAGEDIES

' • VHERE is no great mountain in the Alps so
easy to ascend as Mont Blanc. There is
not one on which there has been such a deplor-
able loss of life. The very facility with which
Mont Blanc can be climbed has tempted hundreds
of persons totally unused to and unfitted for moun-
taineering to go up it, while the tariff for the guides —
£4 each — has called into existence a crowd of in-
capable and inexperienced men who are naturally
unable, when the need for it arrives, to face con-
ditions that masters of craft would have avoided
by timely retreat.

The great danger of Mont Blanc is its enormous
size, and to be lost on its slopes in a snow-storm
which may continue for days is an experience
few have survived. On a rocky mountain there
are landmarks which are of the utmost value in
time of fog, but when all is snow and the tracks

107

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

are obliterated as soon as made, can we wonder
if the results have been disastrous when a poorly
equipped party has encountered bad weather?

Of all the sad accidents which have happened
on Mont Blanc, none exceeds in pathos that in
which Messrs Bean, M'Corkindale, Randall, and
eight guides perished. None of these gentlemen
had any experience of mountaineering. Stimulated
rather than deterred by the account given by two
climbers who had just come down from the moun-
tain, and had had a narrow escape owing to bad
weather, these three men, with their guides, who
were "probably about the worst who were then
on the Chamonix roll," set out for the Grands
Mulcts. The weather was doubtful, nevertheless
the next morning they started upwards, leaving
their only compass at their night quarters.

During the whole of that 6th of September the
big telescope at the Chalet of Plan-Praz above
Chamonix was fixed on their route, but they could
only be seen from time to time, as the mountain
was constantly hidden by driving clouds. At
last they were observed close to the rocks known
as the Petits Mulcts not far below the summit.
It was then a quarter past two o'clock. There

was a terrific wind, and the snow was whirled in

108

MOST TERRIBLE OF ALPINE TRAGEDIES

clouds. The party could be seen lying down on
the ground, to avoid being swept away by the
hurricane.

The Chamonix guide, Sylvain Couttet, had gone
to the chalet of Pierre- Pointue, where the riding
path ends, to await the return of the climbers.
On the morning of the /th, as there was still no
sign of them, Sylvain became uneasy, and mount-
ing to an eminence not far off, from which he
could see nearly all the route to the Grands Mulcts,
he carefully searched for tracks with the aid of
his telescope. Snow had fallen during the night,
yet there was no trace of footsteps. Seriously
alarmed, Sylvain hurried back to Pierre-Pointue,
sent a man who was there to Chamonix in order
that a search party might be held in readiness,
and accompanied by the servant of the little inn
he went up the Grands Mulcts. Sylvain had
arranged that if no one was there he would put
out a signal and the search party would then
ascend without delay. On reaching the hut at
the Grands Mulcts his worst fears were realised —
it was empty. He now quickly regained Chamonix
from where fourteen guides were just starting. He
remounted with them immediately. By the time
they got a little way above Pierre-Pointue, the

109

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

snow was again falling heavily, it was impossible
to go further. Next day the weather was so bad
that the party had to descend to Chamonix, and
for several days longer the rain in the valley and
the snow on the heights continued.

On the 1 5th the weather cleared, and Sylvain
went up to Plan-Praz to see if from there any
traces of the lost ones could be discovered with
the telescope. The first glance showed him five
black specks near the Petit Mulcts, which could
be nothing else but the bodies of some of the victims.
On the 1 6th, with twenty-three other guides,
Sylvain spent the night at the Grands Mulcts.
The 1 7th, they mounted to the spot they had
examined with the telescope, and there they found
the bodies of Mr M'Corkindale and two porters.
Three hundred feet higher was Mr Bean, with his
head leaning on his hand, and by him another
porter. These were in a perfectly natural position,
whereas the others appeared to have slipped to
where they were, as their clothes were torn, and
the ropes, knapsacks (still containing food), sticks,
and so on, lay by the others above.

The five bodies were frozen hard. As complete
a search as possible was now made for the re-
maining six members of the party, but without

MOST TERRIBLE OF ALPINE TRAGEDIES

success. Probably they fell either into a crevasse or
down the Italian side of the mountain.

It is no wonder that Mr Mathews calls this " the
most lamentable catastrophe ever known in the
annals of Alpine adventure."

But the most pathetic part of the story is to
come.

During those terrible, hopeless hours Mr Bean
had made notes of what was happening, and they
tell us all we shall ever know about the disaster :

" Tuesday, 6th September. — I have made the ascent
of Mont Blanc with ten persons — eight guides, Mr
M'Corkindale, and Mr Randall. We arrived at the
summit at half-past two o'clock. Immediately after
leaving it I was enveloped in clouds of snow. We
passed the night in a grotto excavated out of the
snow, affording very uncomfortable shelter, and I was
ill all night. *jth September, morning. — Intense cold
— much snow, which falls uninterruptedly. Guides
restless, jth September, evening. — We have been on
Mont Blanc for two days in a terrible snowstorm ;
we have lost our way, and are in a hole scooped out
of the snow at a height of 15,000 feet. I have no
hope of descending. Perhaps this book may be
found and forwarded. We have no food. My feet
are already frozen, and I am exhausted. I have

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

only strength to write a few words. I die in the
faith of Jesus Christ, with affectionate thoughts of
my family — my remembrance to all. I trust we
may meet in heaven."

112

CHAPTER X

A WONDERFUL SLIDE DOWN A WALL OF ICE

'T~"VWICE at least in the Alps climbers have lost
their footing at the top of a steep slope, and
rolled down it for so long a distance that it seemed
impossible they could survive. The two plucky
mountaineers who have competed in an involuntary
race to the bottom of a frozen hillside are Mr
Birkbeck, in his famous slide near Mont Blanc, and
Mr Whymper, when he made his startling glissade
on the Matterhorn.

It was in July 1861 that a party of friends,
whose names are well known to all climbers, set
out to cross a high glacier pass in the chain of
Mont Blanc. The Revs. Leslie Stephen, Charles
Hudson, and Messrs Tuckett, Mather, and Birk-
beck were the travellers, while in addition to the
three magnificent guides, Melchior Anderegg, Perren,
and Bennen, there were two local guides from the
village of St Gervais.

H 113

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Let me give the account of the accident in Mr
Hudson's own words. How sad to think that,
only four years later, this capable and brave moun-
taineer himself perished on the grim north slopes
of the Matterhorn !

The Col de Miage is reached by a steep slope
of ice or frozen snow, and is just a gap in the
chain of peaks which runs south-west from Mont
Blanc. Col is the word used for a pass in French-
speaking districts.

"On the morning of the nth, at 3.30, we left
the friendly rock on or near which we had passed
the night, and at 7 o'clock we had reached the
summit of the Col de Miage. Here we sat down
on a smooth, hard plain of snow, and had our
second breakfast. Shortly afterwards Birkbeck had
occasion to leave us for a few minutes, though his
departure was not remarked at the time. When
we discovered his absence, Melchior followed his
footsteps, and I went after him, and, to our dismay,
we saw the tracks led to the edge of the ice-slope,
and then suddenly stopped. The conclusion was
patent at a glance. I was fastening two ropes
together, and Melchior had already bound one end
round his chest, with a view to approach or even

descend a portion of the slope for a better view,

114

A SLIDE DOWN A WALL OF ICE

when some of the party descried Birkbeck a long
way below us. He had fallen an immense distance.
"My first impulse led me to wish that Melchior
and I should go down to Birkbeck as fast as
possible, and leave the rest to follow with the
ropes ; but on proposing this plan some of the
party objected. For a considerable time Birkbeck
shouted to us, not knowing whether we could see
his position. His course had been arrested at a
considerable distance above the bottom of the
slope, by what means we know not; and just
below him stretched a snow-covered crevasse, across
which he must pass if he went further. We shouted
to him to remain where he was, but no distinguish-
able sounds reached him ; and to our dismay we
presently saw him gradually moving downwards —
then he stopped — again he moved forwards and
again — he was on the brink of the crevasse ; but
we could do nothing for him. At length he slipped
down upon the slope of snow which bridged the
abyss. I looked anxiously to see if it would sup-
port his weight, and, to my relief, a small black
speck continued visible. This removed my imme-
diate cause of apprehension, and after a time he
moved clear of this frail support down to the point
where we afterwards joined him. Bennen was first

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

in the line, and after we had descended some dis-
tance he untied himself and went down to Birkbeck.
It was 9.30 when we reached him. He told us he
was becoming faint and suffering from cold. On
hearing this, Melchoir and I determined to delay no
longer, and, accordingly, unroped and trotted down
to the point where we could descend from the rocks
to the slope upon which he was lying. Arrived at
the place, I sat on the snow, and let Birkbeck lean
against me, while I asked him if he felt any internal
injury or if his ribs pained him. His manner of
answering gave me strong grounds for hoping that
there was little to fear on that score."

Mr Hudson gives a graphic description of poor Mr
Birkbeck's appearance when he was found on the
snow. " His legs, thighs, and the lower part of his
body were quite naked, with his trousers down about
his feet. By his passage over the snow, the skin was
removed from the outside of the legs and thighs, the
knees, and the whole of the lower part of the back,
and part of the ribs, together with some from the nose
and forehead. He had not lost much blood, but he
presented a most ghastly spectacle of bloody raw
flesh. This, added to his great prostration, and our
consciousness of the distance and difficulties which

separated him from any bed, rendered the sight most

116

A SLIDE DOWN A WALL OF ICE

trying. He never lost consciousness. He afterwards
•described his descent as one of extreme rapidity, too
fast to allow of his realising the sentiment of fear, but
not sufficiently so to deprive him of thought. Some-
times he descended feet first, sometimes head first,
then he went sideways, and once or twice he had the
sensation of shooting through the air.

" The slope where he first lost his footing was gentle,
and he tried to stop himself with his fingers and nails,
but the snow was too hard. He had no fear during
the descent, owing to the extreme rapidity ; but when
he came to a halt on the snow, and was ignorant as to
whether we saw, or could reach him, he experienced
deep anguish of mind in the prospect of a lingering
death. Happily, however, the true Christian principles
in which he had been brought up, led him to cast
himself upon the protection of that merciful Being
who alone could help him. His prayers were heard,
and immediately answered by the removal of his
fears."

The account of how the injured man was brought
down to the valley is very exciting. Mr Hudson
continues : — " The next thing was to get him down as
fast as possible, and the sledge suggested itself as the
most feasible plan. Only the day before, at Con-

tamines, I had had the boards made for it, and with-

117

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

out them the runners (which, tied together, served me
as an alpenstock) would have been useless. Two or
three attempts were made before I could get the
screws to fit the holes in the boards and runners, and
poor Melchior, who was watching me, began to show
signs of despair. At length the operation was com-
pleted, and the sledge was ready. We spread a plaid,
coats, and flannel shirts over the boards, then laid
Birkbeck at full length on them, and covered him as
well as we could.

" Now came the ' tug-of-war,' for the snow was much
softened by the sun, the slope was steep, and there
were several crevasses ahead ; added to this, there
was difficulty in getting good hold of the sledge, and
every five or six steps one of the bearers plunged so
deeply in the snow that we were obliged to halt.
Birkbeck was all the time shivering so much that the
sledge was sensibly shaken, and all the covering we
could give him was but of little use.

" I was well aware of the great danger Birkbeck was
in, owing to the vast amount of skin which was
destroyed, and 1 felt that every quarter of an hour
saved was of very great importance ; still the frequent
delay could not be avoided."

So matters continued till the party was clear of the

glacier. Then Mr Tuckett went ahead to Chamonix,

II*

A SLIDE DOWN A WALL OF ICE

a ten hours' tramp or so, in search of an English
doctor, and on the way left orders for a carriage to be
sent as far as there was a driving road, to meet the
wounded man, and more men beyond to help in
carrying him. The chief part of the transport was
done by the three great guides, Melchoir, Bennen, and
Perren, and was often over "abrupt slopes of rock,
which to an ordinary walker would have appeared
difficult, even without anything to carry. We had so
secured Birkbeck with ropes and straps, that he could
not slip off the sledge, otherwise he would on these
occasions at once have parted company with his
stretcher, and rolled down the rocks."

At last, after incredible toil, they reached the
pastures, and at about three o'clock in the afternoon
eight hours after the accident, they got to the home
of one of the guides, where they were able to make
poor Mr Birkbeck more comfortable before undertak-
ing the rest of the journey, warming his feet and
wrapping him in blankets. For two hours more the
poor fellow had to be carried down, and then they
met the carriage, in which he was driven to St
Gervais, accompanied by the doctor from
Chamonix.

Thanks to the skilful treatment and excellent
nursing he received, Mr Birkbeck made a good

119

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

recovery, though, of course, it was weeks before he
could leave his bed.

Mr Hudson ends his wonderfully interesting narra-
tive with an account of a visit he paid later in the
season to the place where the accident happened.
He says " The result of our observations is as
follows : ' The height of the Col de Miage is 1 1,095.
The height of the point at which Birkbeck finally
came to a standstill is 9328 feet ; so the distance he
fell is, in perpendicular height, 1767 feet." As part of
the slope would be at a gentle angle, one may believe
that the slip was over something like a mile of surface !
Mr Hudson continues : — " During the intervening
three weeks, vast changes had taken place in the
glacier. The snowy coating had left the couloir in
parts, thus exposing ice in the line of Birkbeck's
course, as well as a rock mid-way in the slope, against
which our poor friend would most likely have struck,
had the accident happened later.

"This is one of that long chain of providential
arrangements, by the combination of which we were
enabled to save Birkbeck's life.

(i) The recent snow, and favourable state of the
glacier, enabled us to take an easier and
much quicker route, if not the only one pos-
sible for a wounded man

120

A SLIDE DOWN A WALL OF ICE

(2) We had a singularly strong party of guides,

without which we could not have got him
down in time to afford any chance of his
recovery.

(3) If we had not had real efficient men as

travellers in the party we should not have
got the telegram sent to Geneva; and
a few hours' delay in the arrival of Dr
Metcalfe would probably have been fatal.

(4) The day was perfectly calm and cloudless ;

had there been wind or absence of sun, the
cold might have been too much for such a
shaken system to bear.

(5) We had with us the very unusual addition of

a sledge, without which it would have been
scarcely possible to have carried him down.
" One thing there was which greatly lessened the
mental trial to those engaged in bringing Birkbeck
down to St Gervais, and afterwards in attending
upon him, and that was, his perfect calmness and
patience — and of these I cannot speak too highly.
No doubt it contributed greatly to his recovery."

121

CHAPTER XI

AN ADVENTURE ON THE TRIFT PASS

T?EW passes leading out of the Valley of Zermatt
are oftener crossed than the Trift. It is not
considered a difficult pass, but the rocks on the
Zinal side are loose and broken and the risk of
falling stones is great at certain hours in the day.
The Zinal side of the Trift is in shadow in the
early morning, and therefore most climbers will
either make so early a start from the Zermatt side
that they can be sure of descending the dangerous
part before the sun has thawed the icy fetters which
hold the stones together during the night, or else
they will set out from the Zinal side, and sleep at a
little inn on a patch of rocks which jut out from
the glacier at the foot of the pass, from which the
top of the Trift can be reached long before there
is any risk from a cannonade.

One of the earliest explorers of this pass, however,
Mr Thomas W. Hinchlifif, neglected the precaution

122

AN ADVENTURE ON THE TRIFT PASS

of a sufficiently early start, and his party very nearly
came to grief in consequence.

He has given us an excellent description in Peaksy
Passes, and Glaciers of what befell after they had got
over the great difficulties, as they seemed in those
days, of descending the steep wall of rock on the
Zinal side. I will now begin to quote from his
article :

" Being thoroughly tired of the rocks, we resolved
as soon as possible to get upon the ice where it
swept the base of the precipices. The surface, how-
ever, was furrowed by parallel channels of various
magnitudes ; some several feet in depth, formed
originally by the descent of stones and avalanches
from the heights ; and we found one of these trough-
like furrows skirting the base of the rocks we stood
upon. One by one we entered, flattering ourselves
that the covering of snow would afford us pretty
good footing, but this soon failed ; the hard blue ice
showed on the surface, and we found ourselves rather
in a difficulty, for the sides of our furrow were higher
here than at the point where we entered it, and so
overhanging that it was impossible to get out.

"Delay was dangerous, for the debris far below
warned us that at any moment a shower of stones
might come flying down our channel ; a glissade

123

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

was equally dangerous ; for, though we might have
shot down safely at an immense speed for some
hundreds of feet, we should finally have been dashed
into a sea of crevasses. Cachat in front solved the
puzzle, and showed us how, by straddling with the
feet as far apart as possible, the heel of each foot
could find pretty firm hold in a mixture of half snow
and half ice, his broad back, like a solid rock, being
ready to check any slip of those behind him.

"We were soon safe upon a fine open plateau
of the neve, where we threaded our way among a
few snow crevasses requiring caution, and then pre-
pared for a comfortable halt in an apparently safe
place.

" The provision knapsacks were emptied and used
as seats ; bottles of red wine were stuck upright in
the snow ; a goodly leg of cold mutton on its sheet
of paper formed the centre, garnished with hard eggs
and bread and cheese, round which we ranged our-
selves in a circle. High festival was held under the
deep blue heavens, and now and then, as we looked
up at the wonderful wall of rocks which we had
descended, we congratulated ourselves on the victory.
M. Seller's oranges supplied the rare luxury of a
dessert, and we were just in the full enjoyment of the

delicacy when a booming sound, like the discharge of

124

AN ADVENTURE ON THE TRIFT PASS

a gun far over our heads, made us all at once glance
upwards to the top of the Trifthorn. Close to its
craggy summit hung a cloud of dust, like dirty
smoke, and in few seconds another and a larger
one burst forth several hundred feet lower. A
glance through the telescope showed that a fall of
rocks had commenced, and the fragments were leap-
ing down from ledge to ledge in a series of cascades.
The uproar became tremendous ; thousands of frag-
ments making every variety of noise according to
their size, and producing the effect of a fire of
musketry and artillery combined, thundered down-
wards from so great a height that we waited
anxiously for some considerable time to see them
reach the snow-field below. As nearly as we could
estimate the distance, we were 500 yards from the
base of the rocks, so we thought that, come what
might, we were in a tolerably secure position. At
last we saw many of the blocks plunge into the snow
after taking their last fearful leap ; presently much
larger fragments followed; the noise grew fiercer
and fiercer, and huge blocks began to fall so near
to us that we jumped to our feet, preparing to dodge
them to the best of our ability. ' Look out ! ' cried
someone, and we opened out right and left at the
approach of a monster, evidently weighing many

125

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

hundredweights, which was coming right at us like
a huge shell fired from a mortar. It fell with a
heavy thud not more than 20 feet from us, scat-
tering lumps of snow into the circle."

Years afterwards a very sad accident occurred at
this spot, a lady being struck and killed by a falling
stone. In this case the fatality was unquestionably
due to the start having been made at too late an
hour. An inn in the Trift Valley makes it easy to
reach the pass soon after dawn.

THE PERILS OF THE MOMING PASS.

In 1864 many peaks remained unsealed, and passes
untraversed in the Zermatt district, though now almost
every inch of every mountain has felt the foot of man.
Yet even now few passes have been made there so
difficult and dangerous (if Mr Whymper's route be
exactly followed) as that of the Morning, from Zinal
to Zermatt. Mr Whymper gives a most graphic and
exciting description of what befell his party, which
included Mr Moore and the two famous guides Aimer
and Croz. Having slept at some filthy chalets, the
climbers, first passing over easy mountain slopes,
gained a level glacier. Beyond this a way towards

the unexplored gap in the ridge, which they called

126

PERILS OF THE MOMING PASS

the Morning Pass, had to be decided on. The choice
lay between difficult and perhaps impassable rocks,
and an ice-slope so steep and broken that it appeared
likely to turn out impracticable. In fact it was the
sort of position that whichever route was chosen the
climbers were sure, when once on it, to wish it had
been the other. Finally, the ice-slope, over which a
line of ice-cliffs hung threateningly, lurching right
above the track to be taken, was decided on, and
the whole party advanced for the attack. Mr
Whymper writes :

" Across this ice-slope Croz now proceeded to cut.
It was executing a flank movement in the face of an
enemy by whom we might be attacked at any
moment. The peril was obvious. It was a monstrous
folly. It was foolhardiness. A retreat should have
been sounded.1

" ' I am not ashamed to confess,' wrote Moore in his
Journal, 'that during the whole time we were crossing
this slope my heart was in my mouth, and I never felt
relieved from such a load of care as when, after, I
suppose, a passage of about twenty minutes, we got
on to the rocks and were in safety. ... I have never
heard a positive oath come from Aimer's mouth, but

1 The responsibility did not rest with Croz. His part was to
advise, but not to direct.

127

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

the language in which he kept up a running commen-
tary, more to himself than to me, as we went along,
was stronger than I should have given him credit for
using. His prominent feeling seemed to be one of
indignation that we should be in such a position, and
self-reproach at being a party to the proceeding ;
while the emphatic way in which, at intervals, he
exclaimed, ' Quick ; be quick/ sufficiently betokened
his alarm.

" It was not necessary to admonish Croz to be quick.
He was fully as alive to the risk as any of the others.
He told me afterwards that this place was the most
dangerous he had ever crossed, and that no considera-
tion whatever would tempt him to cross it again.
Manfully did he exert himself to escape from the
impending destruction. His head, bent down to his
work, never turned to the right or to the left. One, two,
three, went his axe, and then he stepped on to the
spot he had been cutting. How painfully insecure
should we have considered those steps at any other
time ! But now, we thought only of the rocks in
front, and of the hideous seracs, lurching over above
us, apparently in the act of falling.

128

PERILS OF THE MOMING PASS

" We got to the rocks in safety, and if they had been
doubly as difficult as they were, we should still have
been well content. We sat down and refreshed the
inner man, keeping our eyes on the towering
pinnacles of ice under which we had passed, but
which, now, were almost beneath us. Without a pre-
liminary warning sound, one of the largest — as high
as the Monument at London Bridge — fell upon the
slope below. The stately mass heeled over as if upon
a hinge (holding together until it bent thirty degrees
forwards), then it crushed out its base, and, rent into a
thousand fragments, plunged vertically down upon
the slope that we had crossed ! Every atom of our
track that was in its course was obliterated ; all the
new snow was swept away, and a broad sheet of
smooth, glassy ice, showed the resistless force with
which it had fallen.

" It was inexcusable to follow such a perilous path,
but it is easy to understand why it was taken. To
have retreated from the place where Croz suggested a
change of plan, to have descended below the reach of
danger, and to have mounted again by the route
which Aimer suggested, would have been equivalent
to abandoning the excursion ; for no one would have
passed another night in the chalet on the Arpitetta

Alp. ' Many ' says Thucydides, * though seeing well
I 129

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

the perils ahead, are forced along by fear of dis-
honour— as the world calls it — so that, vanquished by
a mere word, they fall into irremediable calamities/
Such was nearly the case here. No one could say a
word in justification of the course which was adopted ;
all were alive to the danger that was being encoun-
tered ; yet a grave risk was deliberately — although
unwillingly — incurred, in preference to admitting, by
withdrawal from an untenable position, that an error
of judgment had been committed.

" After a laborious trudge over many species of
snow, and through many varieties of vapour —
from the quality of a Scotch mist to that of a
London fog — we at length stood on the depression
between the Rothhorn and the Schallhorn.1 A
steep wall of snow was upon the Zinal side of
the summit ; but what the descent was like on the
other side we could not tell, for a billow of snow
tossed over its crest by the western winds, sus-
pended o'er Zermatt with motion arrested, re-
sembling an ocean-wave frozen in the act of
breaking, cut off the view. 2

1 The summit of the pass has been marked on Dufour's mapr
3793 metres, or 12,444 feet.

8 These snow-cornices are common on the crests of high
mountain ridges, and it is always prudent (just before arriving
upon the summit of a mountain or ridge), to sound with the alp-

130

PERILS OF THE MOMING PASS

" Croz — held hard in by the others, who kept
down the Zinal side — opened his shoulders, flogged
down the foam, and cut away the cornice to its
junction with the summit ; then boldly leaped down
and called on us to follow him.

"It was well for us now that we had such a man
as leader. An inferior or less daring guide
would have hesitated to enter upon the descent
in a dense mist ; and Croz himself would have
done right to pause had he been less magnificent
in physique. He acted, rather than said, * Where
snow lies fast, there man can go ; where ice exists,
a way may be cut ; it is a question of power ; I
have the power — all you have to do is to follow
me.' Truly, he did not spare himself, and could
he have performed the feats upon the boards of
a theatre that he did upon this occasion, he would
have brought down the house with thunders of
applause. Here is what Moore wrote in his Journal
" (' The descent bore a strong resemblance to the
Col de Pilatte, but was very much steeper and
altogether more difficult, which is saying a good

enstock, that is to say, drive it in, to discover whether there is
one or not. Men have often narrowly escaped losing their
lives from neglecting this precaution.

These cornices are frequently rolled round in a volute, and
sometimes take extravagant forms.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

deal. Croz was in his element, and selected his
way with marvellous sagacity, while Aimer had
an equally honourable and, perhaps, more respon-
sible post in the rear, which he kept with his usual
steadiness. . . . One particular passage has im-
pressed itself on my mind as one of the most
nervous I have ever made. We had to pass along
a crest of ice, a mere knife-edge, — on our left a
broad crevasse, whose bottom was lost in blue haze,
and on our right, at an angle of 7°°j or more, a slope
falling to a similar gulf below. Croz, as he went
along the edge, chipped small notches in the ice, in
which we placed our feet, with the toes well turned
out, doing all we knew to preserve our balance.
While stepping from one of these precarious foot-
holds to another, I staggered for a moment. I
had not really lost my footing ; but the agonised
tone in which Aimer, who was behind me, on
seeing me waver, exclaimed, " Slip not, sir ! " gave
us an even livelier impression than we already
had of the insecurity of the position .... One
huge chasm, whose upper edge was far above the
lower one, could neither be leaped nor turned,
and threatened to prove an insuperable barrier.
But Croz showed himself equal to the emergency.

Held up by the rest of the party, he cut a series

132

PERILS OF THE MOMING PASS

of holes for the hands and feet down and along
the almost perpendicular wall of ice forming the
upper side of the schrund. Down this slippery
staircase we crept, with our faces to the wall, until
a point was reached where the width of the chasm
was not too great for us to drop across. Before
we had done, we got quite accustomed to taking
flying leaps over the schnmds. ... To make a
long story short ; after a most desperate and ex-
citing struggle, and as bad a piece of ice-work as
it is possible to imagine, we emerged on to the
upper plateau of the Hohlicht Glacier.') "

From here, in spite of many further difficulties
necessitating a long detour, the party safely de-
scended to Zermatt by the familiar Trift path.

133

CHAPTER XII

AN EXCITING PASSAGE OF THE COL DE PILATTE

T7 VEN now the valleys and mountains of Dauphin6
are neglected in comparison with the ranges of
Mont Blanc, Monte Rosa, and other famous moun-
tain chains of the Alps. In 1864, when Mr Whymper
with his friends Messrs Moore and Walker under-
took a summer campaign there, it was practically
unexplored from the climbers' point of view. The
party was a skilful and experienced one, the guides,
Aimer and Croz, of the highest class, and the esprit
de corps in the little army of invasion most admirable.
Thus it is no wonder that peak after peak fell before
them, passes were accomplished at the first assault,
and no accident or annoyance spoilt the splendid
series of expeditions which were so successfully
accomplished.. Of these I have taken the account
of the crossing of the Col de Pilatte, a high glacier
pass, for, though it was excelled in difficulty by other
climbs, yet it is so wittily described by Mr Whymper

134

AN EXCITING PASSAGE

in his Scrambles in the Alps, and gives so excel-
lent an idea of the sort of work met with on glaciers,
and the ease with which a thoroughly competent
party tackles it, that it cannot fail to be read with
interest.

The three Englishmen had been joined by a
French friend of theirs, Monsieur Reynaud, and had
left their night quarters at Entraigues at 3.30 A.M.
on the morning of 27th June. Their course was pro-
digiously steep. In less than two miles difference of
latitude they rose one mile of absolute height. The
route, however, was not really difficult, and they
made good progress. They had reached the foot
of the steep part when I take up the narrative in
Mr Whymper's own words :

" At 9.30 A.M. we commenced the ascent of the
couloir leading from the nameless glacier to a point
in the ridge, just to the east of Mont Bans.1 So far
the route had been nothing more than a steep grind
in an angle where little could be seen, but now views
opened out in several directions, and the way began
to be interesting. It was more so, perhaps, to us
than to our companion M. Reynaud, who had no rest

1 The upper part of the southern side of the Col de Pilatte,
and the small glaciers spoken of on p. 211, can be seen from
the high road leading from Brian^on to Mont Dauphin, between
the 1 2th and i3th kilometre stones (from Briangon).

135

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

in the last night. He was, moreover, heavily laden.
Science was to be regarded — his pockets were stuffed
with books ; heights and angles were to be observed
— his knapsack was filled with instruments ; hunger
was to be guarded against — his shoulders were orna-
mented with a huge nimbus of bread, and a leg of
mutton swung behind from his knapsack, looking
like an overgrown tail. Like a good-hearted fellow
he had brought this food thinking we might be in
need of it. As it happened, we were well provided
for, and, having our own packs to carry, could not
relieve him of his superfluous burdens, which, natu-
rally, he did not like to throw away. As the angles
steepened, the strain on his strength became more
and more apparent. At last he began to groan. At
first a most gentle and mellow groan ; and as we rose
so did his groans, till at last the cliffs were groaning
in echo, and we were moved to laughter.

" Croz cut the way with unflagging energy through-
out the whole of the ascent, and at 10.45 we stood on
the summit of our pass, intending to refresh ourselves
with a good halt ; but just at that moment a mist,
which had been playing about the ridge, swooped
down and blotted out the whole of the view on the
northern side. Croz was the only one who caught a
glimpse of the descent, and it was deemed advisable

136

AN EXCITING PASSAGE

to push on immediately, while its recollection was
fresh in his memory. We are consequently unable
to tell anything about the summit of the pass, except
that it lies immediately to the east of Mont Bans,
and is elevated about 11,300 feet above the level of
the sea. It is one of the highest passes in Dauphine".
We called it the Col de Pilatte.

" We commenced to descend towards the Glacier
de Pilatte by a slope of smooth ice, the face of which,
according to the measurement of Mr Moore, had an
inclination of 54° ! Croz still led, and the others
followed at intervals of about 15 feet, all being
tied together, and Aimer occupying the responsible
position of last man : the two guides were therefore
about 70 feet apart. They were quite invisible
to each other from the mist, and looked spectral
even to us. But the strong man could be heard by
all hewing out the steps below, while every now and
then the voice of the steady man pierced the cloud :
* Slip not, dear sirs ; place well your feet ; stir not
until you are certain/

" For three-quarters of an hour we progressed in
this fashion. The axe of Croz all at once stopped.
' What is the matter, Croz ? ' ' Bergschrund, gentle-
men.' * Can we get over ? ' * Upon my word, I
don't know ; I think we must jump.' The clouds

137

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

rolled away right and left as he spoke. The effect
was dramatic ! It was a coup de thedtre, preparatory
to the * great sensation leap ' which was about to
be executed by the entire company.

" Some unseen cause, some cliff or obstruction in
the rocks underneath, had caused our wall of ice to
split into two portions, and the huge fissure which had
thus been formed extended, on each hand, as far as
could be seen. We, on the slope above, were
separated from the slope below by a mighty crevasse.
No running up and down to look for an easier place
to cross could be done on an ice-slope of 54° ; the
chasm had to be passed then and there.

A downward jump of 15 or 16 feet, and a
forward leap of 7 or 8 feet had to be made at the
same time. That is not much, you will say. It
was not much. It was not the quantity, but it was
the quality of the jump which gave to it its particular
flavour. You had to hit a narrow ridge of ice. If
that was passed, it seemed as if you might roll
down for ever and ever. If it was not attained, you
dropped into the crevasse below, which, although
partly choked by icicles and snow that had fallen
from above, was still gaping in many places, ready
to receive an erratic body.

" Croz untied Walker in order to get rope enough,
138

AN EXCITING PASSAGE

and warning us to hold fast, sprang over the chasm.
He alighted cleverly on his feet ; untied himself and
sent up the rope to Walker, who followed his
example. It was then my turn, and I advanced to
the edge of the ice. The second which followed was
what is called a supreme moment. That is to say,
I felt supremely ridiculous. The world seemed to re-
volve at a frightful pace, and my stomach to fly away.
The next moment I found myself sprawling in the
snow, and then, of course, vowed that it was nothing,
and prepared to encourage my friend Reynaud.

" He came to the edge and made declarations. I
do not believe that he was a whit more reluctant to
pass the place than we others, but he was infinitely
more demonstrative — in a word, he was French. He
wrung his hands, ' Oh ! what a diable of a place ! '
'It is nothing, Reynaud,' I said, ' it is nothing.'
'Jump,' cried the others, 'jump.' But he turned
round, as far as one can do such a thing in an ice-
step, and covered his face with his hands, ejaculating,
' Upon my word, it is not possible. No ! no ! no !
it is not possible.'

" How he came over I scarcely know. We saw a
toe — it seemed to belong to Moore ; we saw Reynaud
a flying body, coming down as if taking a header
into water ; with arms and legs all abroad, his leg

139

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

of mutton flying in the air, his baton escaped from
his grasp ; and then we heard a thud as if a bundle
of carpets had been pitched out of a window. When
set upon his feet he was a sorry spectacle ; his head
was a great snowball ; brandy was trickling out of
one side of the knapsack, chartreuse out of the
other — we bemoaned its loss, but we roared with
laughter.

" I cannot close this chapter without paying tribute
to the ability with which Croz led us, through a
dense mist, down the remainder of the Glacier de
Pilatte. As an exhibition of strength and skill, it has
seldom been surpassed in the Alps or elsewhere. On
this almost unknown and very steep glacier, he was
perfectly at home, even in the mists. Never able to
see 50 feet ahead, he still went on with the utmost
certainty, and without having to retrace a single
step ; and displayed from first to last consummate
knowledge of the materials with which he was deal-
ing. Now he cut steps down one side of a serac, went
with a dash at the other side, and hauled us up after
him ; then cut away along a ridge until a point was
gained from which we could jump on to another
ridge ; then, doubling back, found a snow-bridge,
over which he crawled on hands and knees, towed
us across by the legs, ridiculing our apprehensions,.

140

AN EXCITING PASSAGE

mimicking our awkwardness, declining all help,
bidding us only to follow him.

" About i P.M. we emerged from the mist and found
ourselves just arrived upon the level portion of the
glacier, having, as Reynaud properly remarked, come
down as quickly as if there had not been any mist at
all. Then we attacked the leg of mutton which my
friend had so thoughtfully brought with him, and
afterwards raced down, with renewed energy, to La
Berarde."

141

CHAPTER XIII

AN ADVENTURE ON THE ALETSCH GLACIER

A /T R WILLIAM LONGMAN, a former Vice-

1V± President of the Alpine Club, has given us

an interesting account in The Alpine Journal of an

exciting adventure which happened to his son in

August 1862.

The party, consisting of Mr Longman, his son,
aged fifteen, two friends, two guides, and a porter, set
out one lovely morning from the Eggischhorn Hotel
for an excursion on the Great Aletsch Glacier. The
names of the guides were Fedier and Andreas
Weissenfliih.

Mr Longman writes : — " We started in high spirits ;
the glacier was in perfect order; no fresh snow
covered the ice ; the crevasses were all unhidden ;
and no one thought it necessary to use the rope. I
felt it to be a wise precaution, however, to place my
son, a boy of fifteen years of age, under the care of

the Eggischhorn porter. It was his second visit to

142

ADVENTURE ON THE ALETSCH GLACIER

Switzerland, and he could, I am sure, have taken good
care of himself, but I felt it was my duty to place
him under the care of a guide. I have no wish to
throw undeserved blame on the guide ; but his care-
lessness was unquestionably the cause of the accident.
He began wrong, and I ought to have interfered. He
tied his handkerchief in a knot, and, holding it him-
self, gave it to my son to hold also in his hand.
This was worse than useless, and, in fact, was the
cause of danger, for it partly deprived him of that
free and active use of his limbs which is essential
to safety. It threw him off his guard. Except at a
crevasse, it was unnecessary for the boy to have any-
thing to hold by ; and, at a crevasse, the handkerchief
would have been insufficient. The impression that
there was no real danger, and that all that was re-
quired was caution in crossing the crevasses, pre-
vented my interfering. So the guide went on, his
hand holding the handkerchief behind him, and my
son following, his hand also holding the handkerchief.
Many a time I complained to the guide that he took
my boy over wide parts of the crevasses because he
would not trouble himself to diverge from his path,
and many a time did I compel him to turn aside to a
narrower chasm. At last, I was walking a few yards
to his left, and had stepped over a narrow crevasse,

143

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

when I was startled by an exclamation. I turned

round suddenly, and my son was out of sight ! I

will not harrow up my own feelings, or those of my

readers, by attempting to describe the frightful

anguish that struck me to the heart ; but will only

relate, plainly and calmly, all that took place.

When my son fell, the crevasse, which I had

crossed so easily, became wider, and its two sides

were joined by a narrow ridge of ice. It was

obviously impossible to ascertain exactly what had

taken place ; but I am convinced that the guide

went on in his usual thoughtless way, with his hand

behind him, drawing my son after him, and that, as

soon as he placed his foot on the narrow ridge, he

slipped and fell. I rushed to the edge of the

crevasse and called out to my poor boy. To my

inexpressible delight he at once answered me calmly

and plainly. As I afterwards ascertained, he was

50 feet from me, and neither could he see us nor

we see him. But he was evidently unhurt ; he was

not frightened, and he was not beyond reach. In an

instant Weissenfliih was ready to descend into the

crevasse. He buckled on one of my belts,1 fixed it

1 In the early days of mountaineering it was the custom to
pass the rope through a ring or spring-hook attached to a
strong leather belt, instead of, as now, attaching it in a loop
round the body of each climber.

144

ADVENTURE ON THE ALETSCH GLACIER

to the rope, and told us to lower him down. My
two friends and I, and the other two guides, held
on to the rope, and slowly and gradually, according
to Weissenfliih's directions, we paid it out. It was a
slow business, but we kept on encouraging my son,
and receiving cheery answers from him in return.
At last Weissenfluh told us, to our intense joy, that
he had reached my son, that he had hold of him, and
that we might haul up. Strongly and steadily we
held on, drawing both the boy and the guide, as we
believed, nearer and nearer, till at length, to our inex-
pressible horror, we drew up Weissenfluh alone. He
had held my son by the collar of his coat. The cloth
was wet, his hand was cold, and the coat slipped from
his grasp. I was told that when my boy thus again
fell he uttered a cry, but either I heard it not or
forgot it. The anguish of the moment prevented my
noticing it, and, fortunately, we none of us lost our
presence of mind, but steadily held on to the rope.
Poor Weissenfluh reached the surface exhausted,
dispirited, overwhelmed with grief. He threw him-
self on the glacier in terrible agony. In an instant
Fedier was ready to descend, and we began to lower
him ; but the crevasse was narrow, and Fedier could
not squeeze himself through the ice. We had to pull

him up again before he had descended many feet.
K 145

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

By this time the brave young Weissenfliih had re-
covered, and was ready again to go down. But we
thought it desirable to take the additional precaution
of lowering the other rope, with one of the belts
securely fixed to it. My son quickly got hold of it,
and placed the belt round his body, but he told us
his hands were too cold to buckle it. Weissenfliih
now again descended, and soon he told us he had
fixed the belt. With joyful heart some hauled away
at one rope and some at the other, till at length, after
my son had been buried in the ice for nearly half an
hour, both he and the guide were brought to the
surface. . . . Let a veil rest over the happiness of
meeting. My boy's own account of what befell him
is, that he first fell sideways on to a ledge in the
crevasse, and then vertically, but providentially with
his feet downwards, till his progress was arrested by
the narrowness of the crevasse. He says he is sure
he was stopped by being wedged in, because his
feet were hanging loose. His arms were free. He
believes the distance he fell, when Weissenfliih
dropped him, was about three or four yards, and
that he fell to nearly, but not quite, the same place
as that to which he fell at first, and that, in his first
position, he could not have put the belt on. His fall

was evidently a slide for the greater part of the dis-

146

ADVENTURE ON THE ALETSCH GLACIER

tance ; had it been a sheer fall it would have been
impossible to escape severe injury."

A LOYAL COMPANION

The following is taken from The Times of 23rd
July i 886.

"On Tuesday, i3th July, Herr F. Burckhardt,
member of the Basel section of the Swiss Alpine
Club, accompanied by the guides Fritz Teutschmann
and Johann Jossi, both from Grindelwald, made an
attempt to ascend the Jungfrau from the side of the
Little Scheideck. After leaving the Guggi cabin the
party mounted the glacier of the same name. The
usual precautions were of course taken — that is to say,
the three men were roped together, Herr Burckhardt
in the middle, one of the guides before, the other
behind him. When the climbers reached the seracs,
at a point marked on the Siegfried Karte as being at
an elevation of 2700 metres, an enormous piece of ice
broke off from the upper part of the glacier, and came
thundering down. Although by good fortune the
mass of the avalanche did not sweep across the path
of the three men, they were struck by several large
blocks of ice, and sent flying. Jossi, who was leading,
went head first into a crevasse of unfathomable depth,
dragging after him Herr Burckhardt, who, however,

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

contrived to hold on to the edge of the crevasse, but
in such a position that he could not budge, and was
unable to help either himself or Jossi. Their lives
at that moment depended absolutely on the staunch-
ness of Teutschmann, who alone had succeeded in
keeping his feet. It was beyond his power to do
more ; impossible by his own unaided strength to
haul up the two men who hung by the rope. If he
had given way a single step all three would have been
precipitated to the bottom of the crevasse. So there
he stood, with feet and ice-axe firmly planted, holding
on for dear life, conscious that the end was a mere
question of time, and a very short time ; his strength
was rapidly waning, and then ? It would have been
easy for the two to escape by sacrificing the third.
One slash of Burckhardt's knife would have freed both
Teutschmann and himself. But no such dastardly
idea occurred to either of them. They were resolved
to live or die together. Half an hour passed ; they
had almost abandoned hope, and Teutschmann's
forces were well-nigh spent, when help came just in
time to save them. The same morning another party,
consisting of two German tourists, and the two guides
Peter Schlegel and Rudolph Kaufmann, had started
from the Little Scheideck for the Jungfrau, and

coming on traces of Burckhardt's party had followed

148

ON A SNOW-COVERED GLACIER.
The party is crossing a Snow Bridge, and the rope between the centre and last man is too slack for safety.

To face p. 148.

A LOYAL COMPANION

them up, and arrived before it was too late on the
scene of the accident. Without wasting a moment
Schlegel went down into the crevasse and fastened
Jossi to another rope, so that those above were
enabled to draw him up and release Burckhardt and
Teutschmann. Jossi, although bruised and exhausted,
was able to walk to the Scheideck, and all reached
Grindelwald in safety."

When it is remembered how few people make this
expedition, the escape of Mr Burckhardt's party is the
more wonderful, and would not have been possible
unless other climbers had taken the same route that
day. This way up the Jungfrau is always somewhat
exposed to falling ice, though sometimes it is less
dangerous than at other times. As the editor of The
Alpine Journal has written, "no amount of experience
can avail against falling missiles, and the best skill of
the mountaineer is shown in keeping out of their
way."

A BRAVE GUIDE

The brave actions of guides are so many in number
that it would be impossible to tell of them all, and
many noble deeds have never found their way into
print. The following, however, is related of a guide

with whom I have made many ascents, and is further-

149

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

more referred to in The Alpine Journal as "an act of
bravery for which it would be hard to find a parallel
in the annals of mountaineering."

On ist September 1898, a party of two German
gentlemen with a couple of guides went up Piz Palii,
a glacier-clad peak frequently ascended from Pon-
tresina. One of the guides was a Tyrolese, Klimmer
by name, the other a native of the Engadine,
Schnitzler.

They had completed the ascent of the actual peak,
and were on their way down, some distance below the
Bellavista Saddle. Here there are several large
crevasses, and the slope is very steep at this point. I
remember passing down it with Schnitzler the
previous January, and finding much care needed to
cross a big chasm. Schnitzler was leading, then came
the two travellers, finally the Tyrolese, who came
down last man. Suddenly Schnitzler, who must have
stepped on a snow-bridge, and Herr Nasse dropped
without a sound into the chasm. Dr Borchardt was
dragged some steps after them, but managed to check
himself on the very brink of the abyss. Behind was
Klimmer, but on so steep a surface that he could give
no help beyond standing firm. At last, after some
anxious moments, came a call from below, " Pull ! "

They did their best but in vain. " My God ! " cried

150

Of THE

UNIVERSITY

£AUFQg£i

A BRAVE GUIDE

Schnitzler from below, " I can't get out ! " A period
of terrible apprehension followed. Herr Nasse was
entreated to try and help a little, or to cut himself
free from the rope, as he appeared to be suffering
greatly. But he was helpless, hanging with the rope
pressing his chest till he could hardly breathe, and
cried out that he could stand it no longer. Dr
Borchardt made a plucky attempt to render assist-
ance, and the desperate endeavour nearly caused him
to fall also into the crevasse.

The position was terrible, and Herr Nasse was at
the end of his forces. He called out in a dying voice
that he could bear no more — it was the last time he
spoke.

Of Schnitzler nothing was heard, and the others
could not tell if he were still alive.

But while this terrible scene was passing, Schnitzler
had performed an act of the highest bravery. First
he had tried, by using his axe, to climb out of the
icy prison where he hung. This he could not do, so
steadying himself against the glassy wall, he deliber-
ately cut himself loose from the rope. He dropped
to the floor of the crevasse, which, luckily, was not
of extraordinary depth, and being uninjured, he set
himself to find a way out. He followed the crevasse
along its entire length, and discovered a little ledge

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

of ice, with the aid of which, panting and exhausted,
he reached the surface.

But even with Schnitzler's help it was impossible
to raise Herr Nasse out of the chasm. The rope had
cut deeply into the snow. He hung underneath an
eave of the soft surface and could not be moved.
Another willing helper, an Englishman, now came
up, and after a time the body — for Herr Nasse had
not survived — was lowered to the floor of the
crevasse. Every effort was made to restore anima-
tion, but with no result, and there was nothing left
to do but leave that icy grave and descend to the
valley. Herr Nasse had suffered from a weak heart
and an attack of pleurisy, and these gave him
but a poor chance of withstanding the terrible pres-
sure of the rope. Dr Scriven, from whose spirited
translation from the German I have taken my facts,
remarks that, " The death of Professor Nasse seems
to emphasize a warning, already painfully impressed
on us by the loss of Mr Norman Neruda, that there
are special dangers awaiting those whose vital organs
are not perfectly sound, and who undertake the
exertion and fatigue of long and difficult climbs."

152

CHAPTER XIV

A WONDERFUL FEAT BY TWO LADIES

of the highest and hardest passes in the
Alps is the Sesia-Joch, 13,858 feet high, near
Monte Rosa. The well-known mountaineer, Mr Ball,
writing in 1863, referred to its first passage by Messrs
George and Moore, as " amongst the most daring of
Alpine exploits," and expressed a doubt whether it
would ever be repeated. The party went up the
steep Italian side (on the other, or Swiss side, it is
quite easy). We can, therefore, judge of the astonish-
ment of the members of the Alpine Club when they
learnt that in 1869 "two ladies had not only crossed
this most redoubtable of glacier passes, but crossed it
from Zermatt to Alagna, thus descending the wall of
rock, the ascent of which had until then been looked
on as an extraordinary feat for first-rate climbers."
The following extract from an Italian paper, aided
by the notes communicated by the Misses Pigeon to
The Alpine Journal, fully explains how this accidental

153

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

but brilliant feat of mountaineering was happily
brought to a successful termination.

"On nth August 1869, Miss Anna and Miss Ellen
Pigeon, of London, were at the Riffel Hotel, above
Zermatt, with the intention of making the passage of
the Lys-Joch on the next day, in order to reach
Gressonay. Starting at 3 A.M. on the I2th, accom-
panied by Jean Martin, guide of Sierre, and by a
porter, they arrived at 4 A.M. at the Corner Glacier,
which they crossed rapidly to the great plateau, en-
closed between the Zumstein-Spitz, Signal-Kuppe,
Parrot-Spitze, and Lyskamm, where they arrived at
IO A.M. At this point, instead of bearing to the right,
which is the way to the Lys-Joch, they turned too much
towards the left, so that they found themselves on a
spot at the extremity of the plateau, from which
they saw beneath their feet a vast and profound
precipice, terminating at a great depth upon a glacier.
The guide had only once, about four years before,
crossed the Lys-Joch, and in these desert and extra-
ordinary places, where no permanent vestiges remain
of previous passages, he had not remembered the
right direction, nor preserved a very clear idea of the
localities. At the sight of the tremendous precipice
he began to doubt whether he might not have mis-
taken the way, and, to form a better judgment, he

154

WONDERFUL FEAT BY TWO LADIES

left the ladies on the Col, half-stiffened with cold from
the violence of the north wind, ascended to the
Parrot-Spitze, and advanced towards the Ludwigs-
hohe, in order to examine whether along this preci-
pice, which lay inexorably in front, there might be a
place where a passage could be effected. But where-
•ever he turned his eyes he saw nothing but broken
rocks and couloirs yet more precipitous.

"In returning to the Col after his fruitless explora-
tion, almost certain that he had lost his way, he saw
among some debris of rock, an empty bottle (which
had been placed there by Messrs George and Moore
in 1862). This discovery persuaded him that here
must be the pass, since some one in passing by the
place had there deposited this bottle. He then applied
himself to examining with greater attention the rocks
below, and thought he saw a possibility of descending
by them. He proposed this to the ladies, and they
immediately commenced operations. All being tied
together, at proper intervals, with a strong rope, they
began the perilous descent, sometimes over the naked
rock, sometimes over more or less extensive slopes of
ice, covered with a light stratum of snow, in which
steps had to be cut. It was often necessary to stop,
in order to descend one after the other by means of
the rope to a point where it might be possible to rest

155

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

without being held up. The tremendous precipice
was all this time under their eyes, seeming only to
increase as they descended. This arduous and peri-
lous exertion had continued for more than seven
hours when, towards 6 P.M., the party arrived at a
point beyond which all egress seemed closed. Slip-
pery and almost perpendicular rocks beneath, right
and left, and everywhere ; near and around not a
space sufficient to stretch one's self upon, the sun
about to set, night at hand ! What a position for the
courageous travellers, and for the poor guide on whom
devolved the responsibility of the fatal consequences
which appeared inevitable !

"Nevertheless, Jean Martin did not lose his courage.
Having caused the ladies to rest on the rocks, he ran
right and left, climbing as well as he could, in search
of a passage. For about half an hour he looked and
felt for a way, but in vain. At length it appeared to
him that it would be possible to risk a long descent
by some rough projections which occurred here and
there in the rocks. With indescribable labour, and at
imminent peril of rolling as shapeless corpses into the
crevasses of the glacier below, the travellers at length
set foot upon the ice. It was 8 P.M.; they had com-
menced the descent at n A.M.; they crossed the
Sesia Glacier at a running pace, on account of the

156

EXTERIOR OK A CLIMBER'S HUT.

INTKKIOK OK A CUMIJKK'S HUT.

To face p. 157.

WONDERFUL FEAT BY TWO LADIES

increasing darkness of the night, which scarcely
allowed them to distinguish the crevasses. After half
an hour they set foot on terra firma at the moraine
above the Alp of Vigne, where they perceived at no
great distance a light, towards which they quickly
directed their steps. The shepherd, named Dazza
Dionigi, received them kindly, and lodged them for the
night. Until they arrived at the Alp, both the ladies
and the guide believed that they had made the pass of
the Lys-Joch, and that they were now upon an Alp of
Gressonay. It was, therefore, not without astonish-
ment that they learned from the shepherd that,
instead of this, they were at the head of the Val
Sesia, and that they had accomplished the descent
of the formidable Sesia-Joch."

As an accompaniment to the foregoing highly-
coloured narrative, the following modest notes, sent
to The Alpine Journal by the Misses Pigeon, will
be read with interest :

" All mountaineers are aware how much the diffi-
culty of a pass is lessened or increased by the state
of the weather. In this we were greatly favoured.
For some days it had been very cold and wet at the
RifTel ; and when we crossed the Sesia-Joch we found
sufficient snow in descending the ice-slope to give
foothold, which decreased the labour of cutting steps

157

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

— the axe was only brought into requisition whenever
we traversed to right or left. Had the weather been
very hot we should have been troubled with rolling
stones. It was one of those clear, bright mornings
so favourable for mountain excursions. Our guide
had only once before crossed the Lys-Joch, four years
previously, and on a very misty day. We were,
therefore, careful to engage a porter who professed to
know the way. The latter proved of no use what-
ever except to carry a knapsack.

"We take the blame to ourselves of missing the
Lys-Joch ; for, on making the discovery of the porter's
ignorance, we turned to Balls Gtiide Book, and re-
peatedly translated to Martin a passage we found
there, warning travellers to avoid keeping too much to
the right near the Lyskamm. The result of our inter-
ference was that Martin kept too much to the left,
and missed the Lys-Joch altogether.

" When we perceived the abrupt termination of
the actual Col, we all ascended, with the aid of
step-cutting, along the slope of the Parrot-Spitze,
until we came to a place where a descent seemed
feasible. Martin searched for a better passage,
but, after all, we took to the ice-slope, at first, for
a little way, keeping on the rocks. Finding the
slope so very rapid, we doubted whether we could

158

WONDERFUL FEAT BY TWO LADIES

be right in descending it ; for we remembered that
the descent of the Lys-Joch is described by Mr
Ball as easy. We therefore retraced our steps
up the slope to our former halting-place, thus
losing considerable time, for it was now twelve
o'clock. Then it was that Martin explored the
Parrot-Spitze still further, and returned in three-
quarters of an hour fully persuaded that there
was no other way. We re-descended the ice-
slope, and lower down crossed a couloir, and then
more snow-slopes and rocks brought us to a lower
series of rocks, where our passage seemed stopped
at five o'clock. Here the mists, which had risen
since the morning, much impeded our progress, and
we halted, hoping they would disperse. Martin
again went off on an exploring expedition, whilst
the porter was sent in another direction. As both
returned from a fruitless search, and sunset was
approaching, the uncomfortable suggestion was
made that the next search would be for the best
sleeping quarters. However, Martin himself in-
vestigated the rocks pronounced impracticable by
the porter, and by these we descended to the
Sesia Glacier without unusual difficulty. When
once fairly on the glacier, we crossed it at a run-
ning pace, for it was getting dark, and we feared

159

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

to be benighted on the glacier. It was dark as we
scrambled along the moraine on the other side,
and over rocks and grassy knolls till the shepherd's
light at Vigne gave us a happy indication that a
shelter was not far off. The shouts of our guide
brought the shepherd with his oil-lamp to meet
us, and it was a quarter to nine o'clock P.M. when
we entered his hut. After partaking of a frugal
meal of bread and milk, we were glad to accept
his offer of a hay bed, together with the unex-
pected luxury of sheets. When relating the story
of our arrival to the Abbe Farinetti on the follow-
ing Sunday at Alagna, the shepherd said that so
great was his astonishment at the sudden appari-
tion of travellers from that direction, that he
thought it must be a visit of angels.

"We consider the Italian account incorrect as to
the time we occupied in the descent. We could not
have left our halting-place near the summit for the
second time before a quarter to one o'clock, and in
eight hours we were in this shepherd's hut.

"The Italian account exaggerates the difficulty
we experienced. The rope was never used ' to
hold up the travellers and let them down one by
one.' On the contrary, one lady went last, pre-
ferring to see the awkward porter in front of her

160

WONDERFUL FEAT BY TWO LADIES

rather than behind. At one spot we came to an
abrupt wall of rock and there we gladly availed
ourselves of our guide's hand. The sensational
sentence about 'rolling as shapeless corpses into
the crevasses' is absurd, as we were at that junc-
ture rejoicing in the prospect of a happy termina-
tion of our dilemma, and of crossing the glacier in
full enjoyment of our senses."

The editor of The Alpine Journal concludes with
the following comments :

"It is impossible to pass over without some
further remark the behaviour of the guide and
porter who shared this adventure. Jean Martin,
if he led his party into a scrape, certainly showed
no small skill and perseverance in carrying them
safely out of it. Porters have as a class, and with
some honourable exceptions, long afforded a proof
that Swiss peasants are not necessarily born
climbers. Their difficulties and blunders have,
indeed, served as one of the standing jokes of
Alpine literature. But we doubt if any porter has
ever exhibited himself in so ignoble a position as
the man who, having begun by obtaining an en-
gagement under false pretences, ended by allowing
one of his employers, a lady, to descend the Italian

side of the Sesia-Joch last on the rope."
L 161

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

A PERILOUS CLIMB

In the year 1865 but few different routes were
known up Mont Blanc. It has now been ascended
from every direction and by every conceivable com
bination of routes, yet I doubt if any at all rivalling
the one I intend quoting the account of has ever
been accomplished. The route in question is by the
Brenva Glacier on the Italian side of the great
mountain, and the travellers who undertook to
attempt what the guides hardly thought a possible
piece of work, consisted of Mr Walker, his son
Horace, Mr Mathews, and Mr Moore, the account
which I take from The Alpine Journal having been
written by the latter. For guides they had two very
first-rate men, Melchior Anderegg and his cousin,
Jacob Anderegg.

I shall omit the first part of the narrative, interest-
ing though it is, and go at once to the point where,
not long after sunrise, the mountaineers found them-
selves.

" We had risen very rapidly, and must have been
at an elevation of more than 1 2,000 feet. Our posi-
tion, therefore, commanded an extensive view in all
directions. The guides were in a hurry, so cutting

our halt shorter than would have been agreeable, we

162

A PERILOUS CLIMB

resumed our way at 7.55, and after a few steps up a
slope at an angle of 50°, found ourselves on the crest
of the buttress, and looking down upon, and across,
the lower part of a glacier tributary to the Brenva,
beyond which towered the grand wall of the Mont
Maud it. We turned sharp to the left along the
ridge, Jacob leading, followed by Mr Walker, Horace,
Mathews, Melchior, and myself last. We had antici-
pated that, assuming the possibility of gaining the
ridge on which we were, there would be no serious
difficulty in traversing it, and so much as we could see
ahead led us to hope that our anticipations would
turn out correct. Before us lay a narrow but not
steep arete of rock and snow combined, which
appeared to terminate some distance in front in
a sharp peak. We advanced cautiously, keeping
rather below the top of the ridge, speculating with
some curiosity on what lay beyond this peak. On
reaching it, the apparent peak proved not to be a
peak at all, but the extremity of the narrowest and
most formidable ice arete I ever saw, which extended
almost on a level for an uncomfortably long distance.
Looking back by the light of our subsequent success,
I have always considered it a providential circum-
stance that, at this moment, Jacob, and not Melchior
was leading the party. In saying this, I shall not

163

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

for an instant be suspected of any imputation upon
Melchior's courage. But in him that virtue is com-
bined to perfection with the equally necessary one
of prudence, while he shares the objection which
nearly all guides have to taking upon themselves,
without discussion, responsibility in positions of
doubt. Had he been in front, I believe that, on
seeing the nature of the work before us, we should
have halted and discussed the propriety of proceed-
ing ; and I believe further that, as the result of that
discussion, our expedition would have then and
there come to an end. Now in Jacob, with courage
as faultless as Melchior's, and physical powers even
superior, the virtue of prudence is conspicuous chiefly
from its absence ; and, on coming to this ugly place,
it never for an instant occurred to him that we might
object to go on, or consider the object in view not
worth the risk which must be inevitably run. He
therefore went calmly on without so much as turning
to see what we thought of it, while I do not suppose
that it entered into the head of any one of us spon-
taneously to suggest a retreat.

" On most aretes, however narrow the actual crest
may be, it is generally possible to get a certain
amount of support by driving the pole into the slope
on either side. But this was not the case here. We

A PERILOUS CLIMB

were on the top of a wall, the ice on the right falling
vertically (I use the word advisedly), and on the left
nearly so. On neither side was it possible to obtain
the slightest hold with the alpenstock. I believe also
that an arete of pure ice is more often encountered
in description than in reality, that term being
generally applied to hard snow. But here, for once,
we had the genuine article, blue ice without a speck
of snow on it The space for walking was, at first,
about the breadth of an ordinary wall, in which Jacob
cut holes for the feet Being last in the line I could
see little of what was coming until I was close upon
it, and was therefore considerably startled on seeing
the men in front suddenly abandon the upright
position, which in spite of the insecurity of the steps
and difficulty of preserving the balance, had been
hitherto maintained, and sit down a cheval. The
ridge had narrowed to a knife edge, and for a few
yards it was utterly impossible to advance in any
other way. The foremost men soon stood up again,
but when I was about to follow their example
Melchior insisted emphatically upon my not doing
so, but remaining seated. Regular steps could no
longer be cut, but Jacob, as he went along, simply
sliced off the top of the ridge, making thus a slippery
pathway, along which those behind crept, moving one

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

foot carefully after the other. As for me, I worked
myself along with my hands in an attitude safer,
perhaps, but considerably more uncomfortable, and,
as I went, could not keep occasionally speculating,
with an odd feeling of amusement, as to what would
be the result if any of the party should chance to
slip over on either side — what the rest would do—
whether throw themselves over on the other side or
not — and if so, what would happen then. For-
tunately the occasion for the solution of this curi-
ous problem did not arise, and at 9.30 we reached
the end of the arete, where it emerged in the long
slopes of broken neve, over which our way was next
to lie. As we looked back along our perilous path,
it was hard to repress a shudder, and I think the
dominant feeling of every man was one of wonder
how the passage had been effected without accident.
One good result, however, was to banish from
Melchior's mind the last traces of doubt as to our
ultimate success, his reply to our anxious enquiry
whether he thought we should get up, being, 'We
must, for we cannot go back.' In thus speaking, he
probably said rather more than he meant, but the
fact will serve to show that I have not exaggerated
the difficulty we had overcome."

Mr Moore goes on to describe the considerable
166

A PERILOUS CLIMB

trouble the party had in mounting the extremely
steep snow-slope on which they were now embarked.
The continual step-cutting was heavy work for the
guides. At last they were much annoyed to find
between them and their goal "a great wall of ice
running right across and completely barring the way
upwards. Our position was, in fact, rather critical.
Immediately over our heads the slope on which we
were, terminated in a great mass of broken se'racsy
which might come down with a run at any moment.
It seemed improbable that any way out of our difficul-
ties would be found in that quarter. But, where else
to look ? There was no use in going to the left — to
the right we could not go — and back we would not go.
After careful scrutiny, Melchior thought it just
possible that we might find a passage through those
seracs on the higher and more level portion of the
glacier to the right of them, and there being obviously
no chance of success in any other direction, we turned
towards them. The ice here was steeper and harder
than it had yet been. In spite of all Melchior's care,
the steps were painfully insecure, and we were glad to
get a grip with one hand of the rocks alongside of
which we passed. The risk, too, of an avalanche was
considerable, and it was a relief when we were so
close under the seracs that a fall from above could

167

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

not well hurt us. Melchior had steered with his usual
discrimination, and was now attacking the seracs at
the only point where they appeared at all practical.
Standing over the mouth of a crevasse choked with
debris, he endeavoured to lift himself on to its upper
edge, which was about 15 feet above. But to
accomplish this seemed at first a task too great even
for his agility, aided as it was by vigorous pushes.
At last, by a marvellous exercise of skill and activity,
he succeeded, pulled up Mr Walker and Horace, and
then cast off the rope to reconnoitre, leaving them to
assist Mathews, Jacob and myself in the performance
of a similar manoeuvre. We were all three still below,
when a yell from Melchior sent a thrill through our
veins. ' What is it ? ' said we to Mr Walker. A
shouting communication took place between him and
Melchior, and then came the answer, ' He says it is
all right.' That moment was worth living for."

Mr Moore tells how, over now easy ground, the
party rapidly ascended higher and higher. "We
reached the summit at 3.10, and found ourselves safe
at Chamouni at 10.30. Our day's work had thus
extended to nearly 20 hours, of which i?J hours
were actual walking."

It is interesting to note that in after years a

route was discovered on the opposite, or French side

168

A PERILOUS CLIMB

•of Mont Blanc, of which the chief difficulty was
an extremely narrow — but in this case also steep —
ice ridge. This ascent, via the Aiguille de Bion-
nassay, enjoys, I believe, an even greater reputation
than that by the Brenva. It has been accomplished
twice by ladies, the first time by Miss Katherine
Richardson, whose skill and extraordinary rapidity of
pace have given her a record on more than one great
peak. Miss Richardson, having done all the hard
part of the climb, descended from the Dome de
Gouter. The second ascent by a lady was under-
taken successfully in 1899, by Mademoiselle Eugenie
•de Rochat, who has a brilliant list of climbs in the
Mont Blanc district to her credit.

CHAPTER XV

A FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

*T^HE precipitous peak of the Meije, in Dauphine,,
had long, like the Matterhorn, been believed
inaccessible, and it was only after repeated attempts
that at last the summit was reached. The direct
route from La Berarde will always be an extremely
difficult climb to anyone who desires to do his fair
share of the work ; the descent of the great wall of
rock is one of the few places I have been down,
which took longer on the descent than on the ascent
When the members of the Alpine Club heard that
a party of Englishmen had succeeded, without guides,
in making the expedition, they were much impressed
by the feat, and on I7th December 1879, one of
the climbers, Mr Charles Pilkington, read a paper
before the Club describing his ascent. From it I
quote the following. The party included the brothers
Pilkington and Mr Gardiner.

"On the i Qth July 1878, we reached La Berarde,
170

The Meije is to the left, the Glacier Carre is the snow-patch on it, beneath this is the Great Wall.

i^1$i^JBBJ

ASCENDING A SNOWY WALL (page 216).

To face p. 171.

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

where we found Mr Coolidge with the two Aimers.
Coolidge knew that we had come to try the Meije,
and he had very kindly given us all the information
he could, not only about it, but about several other
peaks and passes in the district. Aimer also, after
finding out our plans, was good enough not to laugh
at us, and gave us one or two useful hints. He told
us as well that the difficulty did not so much consist
in finding the way as in getting up it.

" At two o'clock in the afternoon of 2Oth July, we
left for our bivouac in the Vallon des Etancons, taking
another man with us besides our two porters, and at
four reached the large square rock called the H6tel
Chateleret, after the ancient name of the valley.
We determined to sleep here instead of at Coolidge's
refuge a little higher up. The Meije was in full
view, and we had our first good look at it since we
had read the account of its ascent.

" We went hopefully to bed, telling our porters to
call us at eleven the same evening, so as to atart at
midnight ; but long before that it was raining hard,
and it required all the engineering skill of the party
and the india-rubber bag to keep the water out. It
cleared up at daybreak. Of course it was far too late
to start then ; besides that, we had agreed not to make
the attempt unless we had every sign of fine weather,

171

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

"As we had nothing else to do, we started at
8 A.M. on an exploring expedition, taking our spare
ropes and some extra provisions, to leave, if possible,
at M. Duhamel's cairn, some distance up the moun-
tain, whilst our porters were to improve the refuge
and lay in a stock of firewood. The snow was very
soft, and we were rather lazy, so it was not until
eleven that we reached the upper part of the Breche
Glacier, and were opposite our work. The way lies
up the great southern buttress, which forms the
eastern boundary of the Breche Glacier, merging into
the general face of the mountain about one-third of
the total height from the Glacier des Etancons,
and 700 feet below, and a little to the west of the
Glacier Carr6, from whence the final peak is climbed.
The chief difficulty is the ascent from M. Duhamel's
cairn, on the top of the buttress to the Glacier
Carre.

" After a few [steps up the snow, we gained the
crest of the buttress by a short scramble. The crest
is narrow, but very easy, and we went rapidly along,
until we came to where a great break in the arete
divides the buttress into an upper and a lower part ;
being no longer able to keep along the crest, we were
forced to cross the rocks to our left to the couloir.

Not quite liking the look of the snow, Gardiner asked

172

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

us to hold tight whilst he tried it. Finding it all
right he kicked steps up, and at five minutes past
one we reached the cairn, having taken one hour and
thirty-five minutes from the glacier. The great wall
rose straight above us, but the way up, which we had
had no difficulty in making out with the telescope
from below, was no longer to be seen. Our spirits
which had been rising during our ascent from the
glacier, sunk once more, and our former uncertainty
came back upon us ; for it is difficult to imagine any-
thing more hopeless-looking than this face of the
Meije. It has been said that, after finding all the
most promising ways impossible, this seeming im-
possibility was tried as a last chance. We looked
at it a long time, but at last gave up trying to make
out the way as a bad job, determined to climb where
we could, if we had luck enough to get so far another
day ; so, leaving our spare ropes, a bottle of wine, a
loaf of bread, and a tin of curried fowl carefully
covered with stones, we made the best of our way
back, reaching the glacier in one hour and twenty
minutes, and our bivouac in an hour and a half more.
There we spent the next night and following day,
but at last we had to give in to the bad weather, and
go sorrowfully down to La B6rarde. It was very
disappointing. We had been looking forward to the

173

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

attempt for more than six months. I had to leave
in a few days for England. It was not a mountain
for two men to be on alone ; what if we had spent all
our time and trouble for nothing, and only carried our
bed and provisions to the cairn for someone else to
use ?

" On the evening of the 24th we were again at our
bivouac ; this time there was a cold north wind blow-
ing, and the weather looked more settled than it had
yet done since we came into the district. We watched
the last glow of the setting sun fade on the crags of
the Meije, and then crawled into our now well-known
holes. At midnight exactly we were off, and, as we
had much to carry, we took our porters with us as
far as the bottom of the buttress, where we waited for
daylight. At last the Tete du Replat opposite to
us caught the reflection of the light, so, leaving a
bottle of champagne for our return, as a reward of
victory or consolation for defeat, we started at 3.15,
unfortunately with an omen, for in bidding good-bye
to our porters, we said * adieu,' instead of ' au revoir,
and though we altered the word at once, they left us
with grave faces, old Lagier mournfully shaking his
head. Gardiner took the lead again, and at 4.45 we
once more stood beside the stone-man, finding our
cdche of provisions all safe. Here we rearranged our

174

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

luggage. Both the others took heavy loads ; Gardi-
ner the knapsack, Lawrence the 200 feet of spare
rope and our wine tin, holding three quarts ; the
sleeping bag only was given to me, as I was told off
to lead.

"We got under weigh at 5.15, and soon clambered
up the remaining part of the buttress, and reached
the bottom of the great wall, the Glacier Carre being
about 700 feet above us, and some distance to our
right. We knew that from here a level traverse had
to be made until nearly under the glacier before it
was possible to turn upwards. We had seen a ledge
running in the right direction ; crossing some steep
rocks and climbing over a projecting knob (which
served us a nasty trick on our descent), we let our-
selves gently down on to the ledge, leaving a small
piece of red rag to guide us in coming back. The
ledge, although 4 or 5 feet broad, was not all that
could be wished, for it was more than half-covered
with snow, which, as the ledge sloped outwards, was
not to be trusted ; the melting and refreezing of this
had formed ice below, nearly covering the available
space, forcing us to walk on the edge. We cut a
step here and there. It improved as we went on,
and when half-way across the face we were able to
turn slightly upwards, and at 6.30 were near the

175

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

spot where later in the day the icicles from the
extreme western end of the Glacier Carre fall. It is
not necessary to go right into the line of fire, and in
coming back we kept even further away than on the
ascent.

" So far the way had been fairly easy to find, but
now came the great question of the climb ; how to
get up the 600 feet of rock wall above us. To our
right it rose in one sheer face, the icicles from the
Glacier Carre, fringing the top ; to our left the rocks,
though not so steep, were very smooth, and at the
top, especially to the right, near the glacier, they
became precipitous. A little above us a bridge
ledge led away to the left, slanting upwards towards
the lowest and most practicable part of the wall,
obviously the way up. Climbing to this ledge, we
followed it nearly half-way back across the face, then
the holding-places got fewer and more filled with
ice, the outward slope more and more until at last
its insecure and slippery look warned us off it, and
we turned up the steeper but rougher rocks ? on our
right. In doing so I believe we forsook the route
followed by all our predecessors, but we were obliged
to do so by the glazed state of the rocks.

" As the direction in which we were now goingVas

taking us towards the glacier and the steep upper

176

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

rocks, we soon turned again to our left to avoid them,
the only way being up some smooth slabs, with very
little hold, the sort of rocks where one's waiscoat
gives a great deal of holding power ; worming one-
self up these we reached a small shelf where we were
again in doubt. It was impossible to go straight up ;
to the left the rocks, though easier, only led to the
higher part of the ledge we had forsaken ; we spent
some minutes examining this way, but again did not
like the look of the glazed rocks ; so we took the
only alternative and went to the right. Keeping
slightly upwards, we gained about 50 feet in actual
height by difficult climbing. We were now getting
on to the steep upper rocks near the glacier, which
we had wanted to avoid.

" This last piece of the wall will always remain in
our minds as the most desperate piece of work we
have ever done ; the rocks so far had been firm, but
now, although far too steep for loose stones to lodge
on, were so shattered that we dared not trust them ;
at the same time we had to be very careful, lest in
removing any we should bring others down upon
us.

" One place I shall never forget Gardiner was
below, on a small ledge, with no hand-hold to speak
of, trying to look as if he could stand any pull ; my
M 177

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

brother on a knob a little higher up, to help me if
necessary. I was able to pull myself about 8 feet
higher, but the next rock was insecure, and the whole
nearly perpendicular. A good many loose stones
had been already pulled out ; this one would not
come. It is hard work tugging at a loose stone
with one hand, the other in a crack, and only one
foot finding anything to rest on. I looked down,
told them how it was, and came down to rest.

" For about a minute nothing was said ; all our
faces turned towards the Glacier Carre, now only about
60 feet above us. We all felt it would have been
hard indeed to turn back, yet it was not a pleasant
place, and we could not see what was again above.
We were on what may be fairly called a precipice.
In removing the loose stones, the slightest back-
handed jerk, just enough to miss the heads of the
men behind, sent them clear into the air ; they
never touched anything for a long time after
leaving the hand, and disappeared with a disagree-
able hum on to the Glacier des Etancons, 1800 feet
below. We looked and tried on both sides, but it
was useless, so we went at it again. After the fourth
or fifth attempt I managed to get up about 10 feet,
to where there was some sort of hold ; then my
brother followed, giving me rope enough to get to a

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

firm rock, where I remained till joined by the othe rs
It was almost as bad above, but we crawled carefully
up ; one place actually overhung — fortunately there
was plenty of hold, and we slung ourselves up it !
From this point the rocks became rather easier, and
at 9.30 we reached a small sloping shelf of rock,
about 20 yards to the west of the Glacier Carre and
on the top of the great rock wall. Stopping here for
a short time to get cool, and to let one of the party
down to get the axes, which had been tied to a rope
and had caught in a crevice in the rock, we changed
leaders, and crossing some shelving rocks, climbed up
a gully, or cleft, filled with icicles, and reached the
platform of rock at the south-west end of the Glacier
Carre at 10.15 A.M.

" The platform we had reached can only be called
one by comparison ; it is rather smooth, and slopes
too much to form a safe sleeping-place, but we left
our extra luggage there.

"At i i.i o we started up the glacier, Gardiner going
ahead, kicking steps into the soft, steep snow.

"We were much more cheerful now than we had
been two hours before. My companions had got rid
of their heavy loads, the day was still very fine, and
Aimer had told us that, could we but reach the

.glacier, we should have a good chance of success.

179

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

" Shortly before I P.M. we were underneath the well-
known overhanging top, the rocks of which, cut-
ting across the face, form a triangular corner. It
is the spot where Gaspard lost so much time looking
for the way on the first ascent. We knew that the
arete had here to be crossed, and the northern face
on the other side taken to.

" Almost before I got my head over the crest came
the anxious question from below, * Will it go on the
other side ? ' I could not see, however ; so when the
others came up, Gardiner fixed himself and let us
down to the full extent of the rope. The whole
northern face, as far as we could see, looked terribly
icy ; but as there was no other way of regaining the
arete higher up without going on to it, we told him to
come down after us.

" Turning to the right as soon as possible, we had
to traverse the steep, smooth face for a short distance,
It took a long time, for the rocks were even worse
than they had appeared ; we often had to clear them
of ice for a yard before we could find any hold at all
and sometimes only the left hand could be spared for
cutting. After about 50 yards of this work we were
able to turn upwards, and with great difficulty
wriggled up the slippery rocks leading to the arete ;

rather disgusted to find the north face so difficult

1 80

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

— owing, perhaps, to the lateness of the
season.

" It was our last difficulty, for the arete, though
narrow, gives good hand and foot-hold, and we
pressed eagerly onwards. In a few minutes it be-
came more level, and there, sure enough, were the
three stone-men, only separated from us by some
easy rocks and snow, which we went at with a
rush, and at 2.25 we stood on the highest point
of the Meije.

" Knowing that it would be useless for us to try
and descend further than the Glacier Carre that
day, and as it was pleasanter on the top than
there, we went in for a long halt. Untying the
rope — for the top is broad enough to be safe —
we examined the central cairn, where the tokens
are kept. We found a tin box, containing the
names of our predecessors ; a bottle, hanging by
a string, the property of Mr Coolidge ; a tri-col-
oured flag ; and a scented pocket-handkerchief
belonging to M. Guillemin, still retaining its former
fragrance, which it had not ' wasted on the desert
air/ We tore a corner off each, leaving a red-
and-yellow rag in exchange; put our names in
the tin, and an English penny with a hole bored
through it.

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

" Then, after repairing the rather dilapidated
southern cairn, we sat down to smoke and enjoy
the view, which the fact of the mountain standing
on the outside of the group, the tremendous depth
to which the eye plunges on each side, the ex-
pansive panorama of the Dauphine and neigh-
bouring Alps, and the beautiful distant view of
the Pennine chain from Mont Blanc to Monte
Rosa, combine to make one of the finest in the
Alps.

" At four o'clock, after an hour and a half on the
top, we started downwards, soon arriving at the
spot where it was necessary to leave the arete ;
however, before doing so, we went along it to
where it was cut off, to see if we could let ourselves
straight down into the gap, and so avoid the detour
by the northern face, but it was impracticable ; so,
putting the middle of the spare rope round a pro-
jecting rock on the arete, we let ourselves down
to where we had gone along on the level, pulling
the rope down after us ; then regaining the gap
by the morning's route, we crossed it, and leisurely
descended the south-western face to the Glacier
Carr£, filling our now empty wine tin with water
on the way down. We reached the glacier at 6.30.

In skirting the base of the Pic du Glacier we found

182

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

a nice hollow in the snow, which looked a
good place to sleep in. Gardiner wanted one of
us to stop and build a stone-wall, whilst the
others fetched the bag and provisions from the
bottom of the glacier. Lawrence was neutral ;
I was rather against it, having slept on snow
before. At last we all went down to the
rocky platform where our luggage had been left.
We cleared a place for the bag, but it all sloped
so much, and the edge of the precipice was so near,
that we dared not lie down. We looked for a
good rock to tie ourselves to ; even that could not
be found. Then some one thought we might
scrape a hole in the steep snow above us, and get
into it. That, of course, was quite out of the
question. Nothing therefore remained for us but
Gardiner's hollow above — the only level place we
had seen above M. Duhamel's cairn large enough
for us to lay our bag on. There was no time to
be lost ; it was getting dark ; a sharp frost had
already set in : so we at once shouldered our
traps and trudged wearily up the glacier once
more, wishing now that we had left somebody to
build a wall.

" On reaching the hollow we put the ropes, axes,
hats, and knapsack on the snow as a sort of car-

183

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

pet, placed the bag on the top, then, pulling off
our boots for pillows, and putting on the comfort-
able woollen helmets given to us by Mrs Hartley,
got into the bag to have our supper. Fortunately
there was not much wind ; but it was rather diffi-
cult to open the meat tin. We did as well as we
could, however, and after supper tried to smoke ;
but the cold air got into the bag and made that a
failure ; so we looked at the scene instead.

"The moon was half full, and shone upon us as
we lay, making everything look very beautiful.
We could see the snow just in front of us, and
then, far away through the frosty air all the moun-
tains on the other side of the Vallon des Etangons,
with the silver-grey peak of the Ecrins behind, its icy
ridges standing out sharply against the clear sky ;
and deep down in the dark valley below was the
signal fire of our porters. As this could only be
seen by sitting bolt upright, we got tired of looking
at it, and the last link connecting us with the lower
world being broken, we felt our utter loneliness.

" The moon soon going behind a rocky spur of the
Pic du Glacier, we lay down and tried to get warm
by pulling the string round the neck of the bag as
tight as possible and breathing inside ; but somehow
the outside air got in also. So closing it as well as

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

we could, with only our heads out, we went to sleep,
but not for long. The side on which we lay soon got
-chilled. Now, as the bag was narrow, we all had to
face one way on account of our knees ; so the one who
happened to be the soonest chilled through would give
the word, and we all turned together. I suppose we
must have changed sides every half-hour through the
long night. We got some sleep, however, and felt all
right when the first glimmering of dawn came over
the mountains on our left As soon as we could see
we had breakfast ; but the curried fowl was frozen,
and the bread could only be cut with difficulty, as
^i shivering seized one every minute. We had the
greatest trouble in getting our boots on. They were
pressed out of shape, and, in spite of having been under
our heads, were hard frozen. At last, by burning paper
inside, and using them as lantern for our candle, we
thawed them enough to get them on, and then spent
a, quarter of an hour stamping about to thaw ourselves.
We rolled the bag up and tied it fast to a projecting
rock, hanging the meat tin near as a guide to anyone
looking for it.

" At 4.30 we set off, very thankful that we had a
fine day before us. We soon went down the glacier,
•and down and across to the shelf of rock where the

real descent of the wall was to begin. A few feet

185

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

below was a jagged tooth of rock which we could not
move ; so to it we tied one end of the 100 feet of
rope, taking care to protect the rope where it pressed
on the sharp edges, with pieces of an old handker-
chief ; the other end we threw over the edge, and by
leaning over we could just see the tail of it on some
rocks below the bad part,1 so we knew it was long
enough.

" After a short discussion we arranged to go down
one at a time, as there were places where we ex-
pected to throw all our weight on the rope. Gardiner
was to go first as he was the heaviest ; my brother
next, carrying all the traps and the three axes, as he
had the strongest pair of hands and arms in the
party ; whilst I as the lightest, was to bring down
the rear. So tying the climbing rope round his
waist as an extra help, Gardiner started, whilst we
paid it out. He soon disappeared, but we knew
how he was getting on, and when he was in the
worst places, by the * Lower,' ' A little lower/ * Hold,'
1 Hold hard,' which came up from below, getting
fainter as he got lower. Fifty feet of the rope passed

1 The remains of this rope hung for years where Mr Pilking-
ton had placed it, and when I ascended the Meije I saw the
bleached end of it hanging over as sickening looking a place as
I have ever desired to avoid. The ordinary route passes more
to the west.

1 86

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

through our hands before he stopped going. ' Can you
hold there ? ' we asked. ' No. Hold me while I rest
a little, and then give me 10 feet more if you can/
So after a while we got notice to lower, and down he
went again until nearly all our rope was gone ; then
it slackened. He told us he was fast, and that we
could pull up the rope.

" Then Lawrence shouldered his burdens, the three
axes being tied below him with a short piece of rope.
The same thing happened again, only it was more
exciting, for every now and then the axes caught and
loosened with a jerk, which I felt on the rope I was
paying out, although it was tied to him. At first
I thought it was a slip, but soon got used to it.
Lawrence did not go so far as Gardiner, but stopped
to help me at the bottom of the worst piece.

"It was now my turn. Tying the other end of the
loose rope round me, I crawled cautiously down to
where the tight rope was fixed. The others told me
afterwards they did not like it. I certainly did not.
The upper part was all right ; but lower down the
rocks were so steep that if I put much weight on the
rope it pulled me off them, and gave a tendency to
swing over towards the Glacier Carr£, which, as only
one hand was left for climbing with, was rather diffi-
cult to resist. I remember very well sitting on a

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

projecting rock, with nothing below it but air for at
least 100 feet. Leaving this, Lawrence half pulled
me towards him with the loose rope. A few steps
more and I was beside him, and we descended to-
gether to Gardiner, cutting ofT the fixed rope high
up, so as to leave as little as possible, and in a
few minutes more we all three reached the small
shelf of rocks above the smooth slabs by which we
had descended the day before. It was the place
where we had spent some time trying to avoid the
steep bit we had just descended, and which had
taken us nearly two hours.

" This ledge is about 3 feet broad. We had got
down the only place on the mountain that had given
us any anxiety. It was warm and pleasant ; all the
day was before us ; so we took more than an hour to
lunch and rest.

" On starting again we ought to have stuck to our
old route and descended by the slabs, as we could
easily have done ; but after a brief discussion we
arranged to take a short cut, by fixing a second rope
and letting ourselves straight down the drop on to
the lower slanting ledge, at a point a few feet higher
than where we had left it on the ascent.

" We descended one at a time, as before, and, what

with tying and untying, took much longer than we

1 88

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

should have done had we gone the other way. On
gaining the ledge we turned to our left and soon
came across one of our marks ; then striking down
sooner than our old route would have taken us, we
gave a wider berth to the falling ice, and got into
the traverse leading to the top of the buttress.
Along it we went ; but it looked different, had less
snow, and when we came near the end a steep rock,
with a nasty drop below, blocked the way. It
appeared so bad that I said we were wrong. As
the others were not sure, we retraced our steps, and
by a very difficult descent gained a lower ledge.
There was no snow on this, but the melting of the
snow above made the rocks we had to take hold of
so wet that we often got a stream of water down our
arms and necks.

"At last, after nearly crossing, it became quite
impossible, and we turned back, having gained no-
thing but a wetting.

" Below it was far too steep. Immediately above
was the place we had tried just before. We could
not make it out; we had been so positive about
the place above.

"We were just thinking of trying it again more
carefully, when Lawrence pointed up at something,
and there, sure enough, was the bit of red rag left

189

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

the day before to show the commencement of the
traverse.

" We marked where it was, and then crawled back
along the ledge on which we were. Scrambling up
the steep drop, we made quickly upwards, and,
turning towards our flag, found that the only way
to it was along the very ledge where we had first
tried, and which proved to be the traverse after all.

" We were very glad to get into it once more, as
for the last three hours we had been on the look-out
for falling ice. Some had already shot over our
heads, sending showers of splinters on to us, and
one piece as big as one's fist had come rather closer
than was pleasant. On our left, the Glacier Carr£
kept up a regular fire of it, the ice following with
tremendous noise on to the rocks below. Every
time it gave us a start, as we could not always see at
once where the fall had taken place; and although
the danger was more imaginary than real, it is not
pleasant to be constantly on the look-out, and
flattening one's self against the rocks to avoid being
hit

" We soon crossed the snowy part of the traverse,
and were again in front of the rock which had turned
us back before. It looked no better ; but on going

close up we found a small crack near the top, just

190

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

large enough to get our fingers into, giving excellent
hold. By this we swung ourselves up and across the
worst part.

" We thought we had only two hours more easy
descent, and our work would be done. But we
made a mistake.

" At first we went rapidly down, and were soon
cheered by the sight of M. DuhameFs cairn, looking
about five minutes off. I was in front at the time,
and was just getting on to a short snow-slope by
which we had ascended the day before, when,
doubting its safety, I asked the others to hold fast
whilst I tried it. The moment I put my foot on the
snow, all the top went away, slowly at first, then,
taking to the left, went down the couloir with a
rush. We tried again where the upper layer had
gone away, but it was all unsafe ; so we had to spend
half an hour getting down the rocks, where we had
ascended in ten minutes, and it was not until 2.30
that we reached the cairn.

" It was 3.30 before we continued the descent. The
couloir was not in good order and required care.
Gardiner, who was in front, did not get on as well as
usual. At last, thinking we might get impatient, he
showed us his fingers, which were bleeding in several
places, and awfully raw and sore. He had pluckily

191

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

kept it all to himself until the real difficulties were
over ; but the snow of the couloir had softened his
hands, and these last rocks were weathered granite,
and very sharp and cutting ; so he had to go very
gingerly.

" At the bottom of the buttress a surprise awaited
us, for as we descended the last 20 feet, the
weather-beaten face of old Lagier, our porter, appeared
above the rocks. The faithful old fellow said he
had traced our descent by the occasional flashing of
the wine tin in the sun, and had come alone to meet
us, bringing us provisions as he thought we might
have run short. He had waited six hours for us, and
had iced the bottle of champagne which had been left
on the ascent. We opened it and then hurried down
to the glacier, taking off the rope at the moraine, and
ran all the rest of the way on the snow to our bivouac,
like a lot of colts turned loose in a field, feeling it a
great relief to get on to something on which we could
tumble about as we liked without falling over a
precipice."

That the Meije is a really difficult mountain may
be assumed from the fact that for some years after
its first ascent, no party succeeded in getting up and
down it on the same day. When every step of the
way became well known, of course much quicker

192

FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES

times were possible, and when, on i6th September
1892, I went up it with the famous Dauphine guide,
Maximin Gaspard, and Roman Imboden (the latter
aged twenty-three, and perhaps the finest rock
climber in Switzerland), we had all in our favour.
There was neither ice nor snow on the rocks, and
no icicles hung from the Glacier Carre, while the
weather was still and cloudless. We slept at the
bottom of the buttress — just at the spot where Mr
Pilkington met his porter — and from here were
exactly four hours (including a halt of one hour)
reaching the top of the Meije.

It is now the fashion to cross the Meije from La
Berarde to La Grave, the descent on the other side
being also extremely hard. For a couple of hours
after leaving the summit a narrow ridge is traversed
with several formidable gaps in it.

193

CHAPTER XVI

THE PIZ SCERSCEN TWICE IN FOUR DAYS — THE
FIRST ASCENT OF MONT BLANC BY A WOMAN.

TT was a mad thing to do. I realised that when
thinking of it afterwards; but this is how it
happened.

I had arranged with a friend, Mr Edmund
Garwood, to try a hitherto unattempted route on
a mountain not far from Maloja. He was to bring
his guide, young Roman Imboden ; I was to
furnish a second man, Wieland, of St Moritz.

The vhour had come to start, the carriage was
at the door and the provisions were in it, and
Wieland and I were in readiness when, to our sur-
prise, Roman turned up without Mr Garwood. A
note which he brought explained that the latter
was not well, but hoped I would make the expedi-
tion all the same, and take Roman with me. I
was unwilling to monopolise a new ascent, though

probably only an easy one, so I refused to go till

194

PIZ SCERSCEN TWICE IN FOUR DAYS

my friend was better, and asked the guides to
suggest something else. The weather was lovely
and our food ready, and it seemed a pity to
waste either.

Wieland could not think of a suitable climb, so I
turned to Roman, who had only arrived at Pont-
resina two days before, and asked him his ideas.

He very sensibly inquired : " What peaks have
you not done yet here, ma'am ? "

"All but the Scerscen."

" Then we go for the — whatever you call it."

"Oh, but Roman," I exclaimed, "the Scerscen
is very difficult, and there is 3 feet of fresh snow
on the mountains, and it is out of the question ! "

" I don't believe any of these mountains are
difficult," said Roman doggedly, with that con-
tempt for all Engadine climbing shown by guides
from the other side of Switzerland.

" Ask Wieland," I suggested.

Wieland smiled at the question, and said he did
not at all mind going to look at the Scerscen,
but, as to ascending it under the present conditions,
of course it was absurd.

" Besides," he added, " we are much too late to
go to the Marinelli Hut to-day."

"Why not do it from the Mortel Hut?" I re-
195

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

marked, on the " in for a penny in for a pound "
principle.

He smiled again ; indeed, I think he laughed, and
agreed that, as anyhow we could not go up the
Scerscen, we might as well sleep at the Mortel Hut
as anywhere else.

" Have you ever been up it ? " Roman inquired.

Wieland answered that he had not. Roman
turned to me : " Can you find the mountain ? Should
you know it if you saw it ? Don't let us go up the
wrong one, ma'am ! "

I promised to lead them to the foot of the peak,
and Roman repeated his conviction that all Engadine
mountains were perfectly easy, and that we should
find ourselves on the top of the Scerscen next
morning. However, he made no objection to
taking an extra rope of 100 feet, and, telling one
friend our plan in strictest confidence, we climbed
into the carriage.

We duly arrived at the Mortel Hut and were
early in bed, as Roman wished us to set out at
an early hour, or a late one, if I may thus allude
to II P.M. He was still firmly convinced that to
the top of the Scerscen we should go, and wanted
every moment in hand, in spite of his recent

criticisms of Engadine mountains. There was a

196

PIZ SCERSCEN TWICE IN FOUR DAYS

very useful moon, and by its light we promised
Roman to take him to the foot of the peak, where
its rocky sides rise abruptly from the Scerscen
Glacier.

I must here explain that there are several
ways up the Scerscen. I wished to ascend by
the rocks on the south side, which, though harder,
were safer than the other routes. As for the
descent (if we got up!) we intended coming down
the way we had ascended, little knowing not
only that no one had been down by this route,
but also that a party had attempted to get down
it and had been driven back. As for finding our
way up, some notes in the Alpine Journal were
our only guide. The mountain had been pre-
viously ascended but a few times altogether, and
only, I think, once or twice by the south face.
No lady had up till then tried it.

We were off punctually at u P.M., and by the
brilliant light of the moon made good time over the
glacier and up the snow slopes leading to the Sella
Pass. This we reached in three hours, without a pause,
from the hut, and, making no halt there, immediately
plunged into the softer snow on the Italian side, and
began to skirt the precipices on our left. Even in

midsummer, it was still dark at this early hour, and

197

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

the moon had already set. A great rocky peak rose
near us, and Wieland gave it as his opinion that it
was the Scerscen. I differed from him, believing
our mountain to be some distance farther, so it was
mutually agreed that we should halt for food, after
which we should have more light to enable us to
determine our position.

Gradually the warmth of dawn crept over the
sky, and soon the beautiful spectacle of an Alpine
sunrise was before us, with the wonderful "flush of
adoration " on the mountain heads. There was no
doubt now where we were ; our peak was some way
beyond, and the only question was, how to go up
it ? I repeated to Roman the information I had
gleaned from the Journal, and he thanked me, doubt-
less having his own ideas, which he intended alone
to be guided by. Luckily, as we advanced the
mountain became visible from base to summit, so
that Roman could trace out his way up it as upon a
map. We walked up the glacier to the foot of the
mighty wall, and soon began to go up it, advancing
for some time with fair,, rapidity, in spite of the fresh
snow. After, perhaps, a couple of hours or so, we
came to our first real difficulty. This was a tall,
red cliff, with a cleft up part of it, and, as there was

an evil-looking and nearly perpendicular gully of ice

198

PIZ SCERSCEN TWICE IN FOUR DAYS

to the right and overhanging rocks to the left, we
had either to go straight up or abandon the expedi-
tion. The cleft was large and was garnished with a
sturdy icicle, or column of ice, some 5 feet or more in
diameter. Bidding me wedge myself into a firm
place, Roman began to cut footholds up the icicle,
and then, when after a few steps the cleft or chimney
ended, he turned to his right and wormed himself
along the very face of the cliff, holding on by the
merest irregularities, which can hardly be termed
ledges. After a couple of yards he struck straight
up, and wriggling somehow on the surface, rendered
horribly slippery by the snow, he at last, after what
seemed an age, called on Wieland to follow. What
was a tour de force for the first man was compara-
tively easy for the second, and soon my turn came to
try my hand — or rather my feet and knees and any
other adhesive portion of my person — on the busi-
ness. The first part was the worst, for, as the rope
came from the side and not above till the traverse
was made, I had no help. Eventually I, too,
emerged on to the wall, and saw right over me the
rope passing through a gap, behind which, excellently
placed, were the guides. I helped myself to the
utmost of my capacity, but a pull was not unwelcome

towards the end, when, exhausted and breathless, I

199

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

could struggle no more. As I joined the guides they
moved to give me space on the ledge, and we spent
a well-earned quarter of an hour in rest and refresh-
ment. The worst was now over, but owing to the
snow, which covered much of the rock to a depth
of about 2 or 3 feet, the remainder of the way was
distinctly difficult, and as the mountain was totally
unknown to us we never could tell what troubles
might be in store. However, having left the foot of
the actual peak at 5.40 A.M., we arrived on the top
at 10.40 A.M., and as we lifted our heads above the
final rocks, hardly daring to believe that we really
were on the summit, a distant cheer was borne to
our ears from Piz Bernina, and we knew that our
arrival had been observed by another party.

So formidable did we consider the descent that we
only allowed ourselves ten minutes on the top, and
then we prepared to go. Could we cross the ridge
to Piz Bernina and so avoid the chimney ? It had a
great reputation, and we feared to embark on the
unknown. So at 10.50 A.M. we began the descent,
moving one at a time with the utmost caution.
Before long the difficulties increased as we reached
the steeper part of the mountain. The rocks now
streamed with water from the rapidly melting snow,

under the rays of an August sun. As I held on,

200

PIZ SCERSCEN TWICE IN FOUR DAYS

streams ran in at my wristbands, and soon I was
soaked through. But the work demanded such close
attention that a mere matter of discomfort was
nothing. Presently we had to uncoil our spare 100
feet of rope, and now our progress grew slower and
slower. After some hours we came to the chimney.
No suitable rock could be found to attach the rope
to, so Roman sat down and thought the matter out.
The difficulty was to get the last man down ; for the
two first, held from above, the descent was easy.
Roman soon hit upon an ingenious idea. Wieland
and I were to go down to the bottom of the cleft.
Wieiand was to unrope me and, leaving me, was to
cut steps across the ice-slope to our left till leverage
was obtainable for the rope across the boss of rock
where Roman stood, and where it would remain in
position so long as it was kept taut, with Roman at
one end and Wieland slowly paying out from below.
The manoeuvre succeeded, and after about two hours'
work Wieland had hewn a large platform in the ice
and prepared to gradually let out the rope as Roman
came down. He descended in grand form, puffing at
his pipe and declared the difficulty grossly over-rated,
though he did not despise the precaution. At 2.30
A.M. we re-entered the Mortel Hut, somewhat tired,

but much pleased with the success of our expedition.

201

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Our second ascent of Piz Scerscen is soon told.

Four days later Roman casually remarked to me :
"It is a pity, ma'am, we have not crossed the Scerscen
to the Bernina."

" It is," I replied. " Let us start at once and
do it."

Wieland was consulted, and was only too delighted
to go anywhere under Roman's leadership. Our
times will give an idea of the changed state of the
mountain, for, leaving the Mortel Hut at 12.30 mid-
night, we were on the top of the Scerscen at 8 A.M.
At nine we set off, and taking things leisurely,,
with halts for food, we passed along the famous arete,
and, thanks to Roman's choice of route, met with not
one really hard step. At 2.30 P.M. we found ourselves
on the top of Piz Bernina, and had a chat with
another party, who had arrived not long before. I
waited to see them start, and rejoiced that I had
kept two plates. Then we, too, set forth, and were
in the valley by 7 P.M.

202

ASCENT OF MONT BLANC BY A WOMAN

THE FIRST ASCENT OF MONT BLANC BY A WOMAN,
AND SOME SUBSEQUENT ASCENTS

The first woman who reached the summit of Mont
Blanc was a native of Chamonix, Maria Paradis
by name. Her account of her expedition is so
admirably graphic and picturesque that I shall
give a translation of it as like the original as I can.
Though it was so far back as the year 1809, Maria
writes quite in the spirit of modern journalism.

She begins : — " I was only a poor servant. One
day the guides said to me, * We are going up
there, come with us. Travellers will come and see
you afterwards and give you presents.' That
decided me, and I set out with them. When I
reached the Grand Plateau I could not walk any
longer. I felt very ill, and I lay down on the
snow. I panted like a chicken in the heat. They
held me up by my arms on each side and
dragged me along. But at the Rochers-Rouge I
could get no further, and I said to them 'Chuck
me into a crevasse and go on yourselves.'

" ' You must go to the top,' answered the guides.
They seized hold of me, they dragged me, they

pushed me, they carried me, and at last we arrived.

203

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Once at the summit, 1 could see nothing
clearly, I could not breathe, I could not speak."

Maria was thirty years of age, and made quite a
fortune out of her achievement. From that time,
tourists returning from Mont Blanc noticed with sur-
prise, as they passed through the pine woods, a feast
spread out under the shade of a huge tree. Cream,
fruit, etc., were tastefully displayed on the white
cloth. A neat-looking peasant woman urged them
to partake. " It is Maria of Mont Blanc ! " the
guides would cry, and the travellers halted to hear
the story of her ascent and to refresh themselves.

The second woman, and the first lady to climb
Mont Blanc, was a Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle
d'Angeville. For years she had determined to
make the attempt, but it was only in 1838, when
she was 44 years of age, that she came to Chamonix
with the intention of immediately setting out for
the great mountain. She had many difficulties
to surmount. The guides feared the responsibility
of taking up a woman, many of the Chamonix
people thought her mad, and while one was ready
to offer a thousand francs to five that she would
not reach the top, another was prepared to accept
heavy odds that there would be a catastrophe.

At last, however, all was ready, and she started.

204

HARD WORK.

MRS. AUDREY LE BLOND SETS OUT IN A LONG SKIRT (page 87).

To face p. 204.

ASCENT OF MONT BLANC BY A WOMAN

Two other parties offered to join her. She de-
clined with thanks. After half an hour on the
glacier she detached herself from the rope and
would accept no help. This was far from being
out of sheer bravado, it was simply that she de-
sired to inspire confidence in her powers. During
the night on the rocks of the Grands Mulcts
she suffered terribly from cold and could not
snatch a moment's sleep. When the party stopped
for breakfast at the Grand Plateau, she could eat
nothing. At the Corridor, feverishness, and fear-
ful thirst overcame her ; she fell to the ground
from weakness and drowsiness. After a little rest,
however, she was able to go on, but at the Mur de
la Cote she felt desperately ill. Violent palpitation
seized on her and her limbs felt like lead. With
a tremendous effort she moved on. The beatings
of her heart became more suffocating, her pulse
was too rapid to count, she could not take more
than ten steps without stopping. One thing only
remained strong in her — the will. During these
frequent halts she heard the murmuring of talk
between the guides, as in a dream. "We shall
fail ! Look at her, she has fallen asleep ! Shall we
try and carry her ? " while Couttet cried, "If ever

I find myself again with a lady on Mont Blanc ! "

205

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

At these words Mademoiselle d'Angeville, with a
desperate effort, shook off her torpor and stood up.
She clung with desperate energy to the one idea : " If
I die," she said to the guides, " promise to carry
me up there and bury me on the top ! " And
the men, stupified with such persistence, answered
gravely, " Make your mind easy, mademoiselle, y ou
shall go there, dead or alive!"

As she approached the top she felt better, and
was able to advance without support, and when
she stepped on to the summit, and knew that her
great wish was at last accomplished, all sensation
of illness vanished as if by enchantment

" And now, mademoiselle, you shall go higher than
Mont Blanc ! " exclaimed the guides, and joining
hands they lifted her above their shoulders.

One more ascent by a lady deserves mention here,
that of Miss Stratton, on 3ist January 1876. She
was the first person to reach the summit of Mont
Blanc in mid-winter.

It is difficult to understand why these early
climbers of Mont Blanc, men as well as women,
suffered so terribly from mountain sickness, a disease
one rarely hears of nowadays in the Alps. The
question is too vexed a one for me to discuss it here,

but I may say that want of training and unsuitable

206

ASCENT OF MONT BLANC BY A WOMAN

food bring it on in most cases. " The stagnation of
the air in valleys above the snow-line," was believed
to produce it, and I cannot help thinking that this
does have some effect. The first time I went up
Mont Blanc I did not feel well on the Grand Plateau,
but was all right when I reached the breezy ridge of
the Bosses. The second time, ascending by the route
on the Italian side of the peak, where there are no
snowy valleys, I did not suffer at all. The third
time I felt uncomfortable on the slope leading to
the Corridor, but quite myself again above.

207

CHAPTER XVII

THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE

/^\F all the writers on Alpine matters none has a
more charming style, or has described his
adventures in a more modest manner, than Sir
Leslie Stephen. Perhaps the most delightful pas-
sages in his Playground of Europe are those in
which he tells how, in company with the Messrs
Mathews, he managed to get up the great wall of
ice between the Monch and the Eiger, known as the
Eigerjoch. The Messrs Mathews had with them two
Chamonix guides, while Mr Leslie Stephen had en-
gaged the gigantic Oberlander Ulrich Lauener. In
those days there was often keen rivalry — and some-
thing more — between French and German-speaking
guides, and Lauener was apt to be rather an auto-
crat on the mountains. " As, however, he could not
speak a word of French, nor they of German, he was
obliged to convey his ' sentiments ' in pantomime,

which, perhaps, did not soften 'their vigour.' I

208

THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE

was accordingly prepared for a few disputes next
day.

11 A bout four on the morning of /th August we got
off from the inn on the Wengern Alp, notwithstand-
ing a few delays, and steered straight for the foot of
the Eiger. In the early morning the rocks around
the glacier and the lateral moraines were hard and
slippery. Before long, however, we found ourselves
well on the ice, near the central axis of the Eiger
Glacier, and looking up at the great terrace-shaped
ice-masses, separated by deep crevasses, which rose
threateningly over our heads, one above another, like
the defences of some vast fortification. And here
began the first little dispute between Oberland and
Chamouni. The Chamouni men proposed a direct
assault on the network of crevasses above us.
Lauener said that we ought to turn them by crossing
to the south-west side, immediately below the Monch.
My friends and their guides forming a majority, and
seeming to have little respect for the arguments
urged by the minority, we gave in and followed
them, with many muttered remarks from Lauener.
We soon found ourselves performing a series of
manoeuvres like those required for the ascent of
the Col du Geant. At times we were lying flat in

little gutters on the faces of the seracs> worming
O 209

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

ourselves along like boa-constrictors. At the next
moment we were balancing ourselves on a knife-edge
of ice between two crevasses, or plunging into the
very bowels of the glacier, with a natural arch of ice
meeting above our heads. I need not attempt to
describe difficulties and dangers familiar to all ice-
travellers. Like other such difficulties, they were
exciting, and even rather amusing for a time, but,
unfortunately, they seemed inclined to last rather
too long. Some of the deep crevasses apparently
stretched almost from side to side of the glacier,
rending its whole mass into distorted fragments. In
attempting to find a way through them, we seemed
to be going nearly as far backwards as forwards, and
the labyrinth in which we were involved was as hope-
lessly intricate after a long struggle as it had been at
first. Moreover, the sun had long touched the higher
snow-fields, and was creeping down to us step by
step. As soon as it reached the huge masses amongst
which we were painfully toiling, some of them would
begin to jump about like hailstones in a shower, and
our position would become really dangerous. The
Chamouni guides, in fact, declared it to be dangerous
already, and warned us not to speak, for fear of
bringing some of the nicely-poised ice-masses down

on our heads. On my translating this well-meant

210

THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE

piece of advice to Lauener, he immediately selected
the most dangerous looking pinnacle in sight, and
mounting to the top of it sent forth a series of
screams, loud enough, I should have thought, to
bring down the top of the Monch. They failed,
however, to dislodge any seracs, and Lauener, going
to the front, called to us to follow him. By this time
we were all glad to follow any one who was confident
enough to lead. Turning to our right, we crossed the
glacier in a direction parallel to the deep crevasses,
and therefore unobstructed by any serious obstacles,
till we found ourselves immediately beneath the
great cliffs of the Monch. Our prospects changed at
once. A great fold in the glacier produces a kind of
diagonal pathway, stretching upwards from the point
where we stood towards the rocks of the Eiger — not
that it was exactly a carriage-road — but along the
line which divides two different systems of crevasse,
the glacier seemed to have been crushed into smaller
fragments, producing, as it were, a kind of incipient
macadamisation. The masses, instead of being
divided by long regular trenches, were crumbled and
jammed together so as to form a road, easy and
pleasant enough by comparison with our former
difficulties. Pressing rapidly up this rough path, we
soon found ourselves in the very heart of the glacier,

211

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

with a broken wilderness of ice on every side. We
were in one of the grandest positions I have ever seen
for observing the wonders of the ice-world ; but those
wonders were not all of an encouraging nature. For,
looking up to the snow-fields now close above us, an
obstacle appeared which made us think that all our
previous labours had been in vain. From side to
side of the glacier a vast chevaux de frise of blue ice-
pinnacles struck up through the white layers of neve
formed by the first plunge of the glacier down its
waterfall of ice. Some of them rose in fantastic
shapes — huge blocks balanced on narrow footstalks,
and only waiting for the first touch of the sun to fall
in ruins down the slope below. Others rose like church
spires, or like square towers, defended by trenches of
unfathomable depths. Once beyond this barrier we
should be safe upon the highest plateau of the glacier
at the foot of the last snow-slope. But it was
obviously necessary to turn them by some judicious
strategical movement. One plan was to climb the
lower rocks of the Eiger ; but, after a moment's
hesitation, we fortunately followed Lauener towards
the other side of the glacier, where a small gap between
the seracs and the lower slopes of the Monch seemed
to be the entrance to a ravine that might lead us
upwards. Such it turned out to be. Instead of the

212

THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE

rough footing in which we had hitherto been unwill-
ingly restricted, we found ourselves ascending a
narrow gorge, with the giant cliffs of the Monch on
our right, and the toppling ice-pinnacles on our left. A
beautifully even surface of snow, scarcely marked by
a single crevasse, lay beneath our feet. We pressed
rapidly up this strange little pathway, as it wound
steeply upwards between the rocks and the ice,
expecting at every moment to see it thin out, or
break off at some impassable crevasse. It was, I
presume, formed by the sliding of avalanches from
the slopes of the Monch. At any rate, to our delight,
it led us gradually round the barrier of series, till in
a few minutes we found ourselves on the highest
plateau of the glacier, the crevasses fairly beaten, and
a level plain of snow stretching from our feet to the
last snow-slope.

" We were now standing on the edge of a small level
plateau. One, and only one, gigantic crevasse of
really surpassing beauty stretched right across
it. This was, we guessed, some 300 feet deep,
and its sides passed gradually into the lovely blues
and greens of semi-transparent ice, whilst long rows
and clusters of huge icicles imitated (as Lauener
remarked) the carvings and ecclesiastical furniture of

some great cathedral.

213

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

" To reach our pass, we had the choice either of at
once attacking the long steep slopes which led
directly to the shoulder of the Monch, or of first
climbing the gentle slope near the Eiger, and then
forcing our way along the backbone ot the ridge.
We resolved to try the last plan first.

" Accordingly, after a hasty breakfast at 9.30, we
started across our little snow-plain and commenced
the ascent. After a short climb of no great difficulty,,
merely pausing to chip a few steps out of the hard
crust of snow, we successively stepped safely on to
the top of the ridge. As each of my predecessors did
so, I observed that he first looked along the arete,
then down the cliffs before him, and then turned with
a very blank expression of face to his neighbour.
From our feet the bare cliffs sank down, covered with
loose rocks, but too steep to hold more than patches
of snow, and presenting right dangerous climbing for
many hundred feet towards the Grindelwald glaciers,
The arete offered a prospect not much better : a long
ridge of snow, sharp as the blade of a knife, was
playfully alternated with great rocky teeth, strik-
ing up through their icy covering, like the edge of
a saw. We held a council standing, and considered
the following propositions : — First, Lauener coolly

proposed, and nobody seconded, a descent of the pre-

214

THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE

cipices towards Grindelwald. This proposition pro-
duced a subdued shudder from the travellers and a
volley of unreportable language from the Chamounf
guides. It was liable, amongst other things, to the
trifling objection that it would take us just the way
we did not want to go. The Chamouni men now
proposed that we should follow the arete. This was
disposed of by Lauener's objection that it would take
at least six hours. We should have had to cut steps
down the slope and up again round each of the rocky
teeth I have mentioned ; and I believe that this cal-
culation of time was very probably correct. Finally,
we unanimously resolved upon the only course open
to us — to descend once more into our little valley,
and thence to cut our way straight up the long slopes
to the shoulder of the Monch.

" Considerably disappointed at this unexpected
check, we retired to the foot of the slopes, feeling
that we had no time to lose, but still hoping that a
couple of hours more might see us at the top of the
pass. It was just eleven as we crossed a small berg-
schrund and began the ascent. Lauener led the way
to cut the steps, followed by the two other guides,
who deepened and polished them up. Just as we
started, I remarked a kind of bright tract drawn

down the ice in front of us, apparently by the frozen

215

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

remains of some small rivulet which had been trick-
ling down it. I guessed it would take some fifty
steps and half-an-hour's work to reach it. We cut
about fifty steps, however, in the first half-hour,
and were not a quarter of the way to my mark ;
and as even when there we should not be half-way
to the top, matters began to look serious. The
ice was very hard, and it was necessary, as Lauener
observed, to cut steps in it as big as soup-tureens,
for the result of a slip would in all probability
have been that the rest of our lives would have
been spent in sliding down a snow-slope, and that
that employment would not have lasted long enough
to become at all monotonous. Time slipped by, and I
gradually became weary of a sound to which at first
I always listened with pleasure — the chipping of the
axe, and the hiss of the fragments as they skip down
the long incline below us. Moreover, the sun was
very hot, and reflected with oppressive power from
the bright and polished surface of the ice. I could
see that a certain flask was circulating with great
steadiness amongst the guides, and the work of cut-
ting the steps seemed to be extremely severe. I was
counting the 25Oth step, when we at last reached
the little line I had been so long watching, and it

even then required a glance back at the long line of

216

A VERY STEEP ICE Si.oi'i-:.

HARD SNOW IN THE EARLY MORNING ON THE TOP OF A GLACIER PASS

NEARLY 12,000 FEET ABOVE SKA.

To face p. 216.

THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE

steps behind to convince me that we had in fact
made any progress. The action of resting one's
whole weight on one leg for about a minute, and
then slowly transferring it to the other, becomes
wearisome when protracted for hours. Still the ex-
citement and interest made the time pass quickly.
I was in constant suspense lest Lauener should pro-
nounce for a retreat, which would have been not
merely humiliating, but not improbably dangerous,
amidst the crumbling seracs in the afternoon sun. I
listened with some amusement to the low meanings
of little Charlet, who was apparently bewailing his
position to Croz, and being heartless chaffed in re-
turn. One or two measurements with a clinometer
of Mathews' gave inclinations of 51° or 52°, and the
slope was perhaps occasionally a little more.

" At last, as I was counting the 5 Both step, we
reached a little patch of rock, and felt ourselves
once more on solid ground, with no small satisfac-
tion. Not that the ground was specially solid. It
was a small crumbling patch of rock, and every stone
we dislodged went bounding rapidly down the side
of the slope, diminishing in apparent size till it dis-
appeared in the bergschrund, hundreds of feet below.
However, each of us managed to find some nook

in which he could stow himself away, whilst the

217

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Chamouni men took their turn in front, and cut steps
straight upwards to the top of the slope. By this
means they kept along a kind of rocky rib, of which
our patch was the lowest point, and we thus could
occasionally get a footstep on rock instead of ice.
Once on the top of the slope, we could see no
obstacle intervening between us and the point over
which our pass must lie.

" Meanwhile we meditated on our position. It was
already four o'clock. After twelve hours' unceasing
labour, we were still a long way on the wrong side of
the pass. We were clinging to a ledge in the mighty
snow-wall which sank sheer down below us and rose
steeply above our heads. Beneath our feet the whole
plain of Switzerland lay with a faint purple haze
drawn over it like a veil, a few green sparkles just
pointing out the Lake of Thun. Nearer, and appa-
rently almost immediately below us, lay the Wengern
Alp, and the little inn we had left twelve hours
before, whilst we could just see the back of the
labyrinth of crevasses where we had wandered so
long. Through a telescope I could even distinguish
people standing about the inn, who no doubt were
contemplating our motions. As we rested, the
Chamouni guides had cut a staircase up the slope,,

and we prepared to follow. It was harder work than

218

THE ASCENT OF A WALL OF ICE

before, for the whole slope was now covered with a
kind of granular snow, and resembled a huge pile of
hailstones. The hailstones poured into every foot-
step as it was cut, and had to be cleared out with
hands and feet before we could get even a slippery
foothold. As we crept cautiously up this treacherous
staircase, I could not help reflecting on the lively
bounds with which the stones and fragments of
ice had gone spinning from our last halting place
down to the yawning bergschrund below. We suc-
ceeded, however, in avoiding their example, and a
staircase of about one hundred steps brought us to
the top of the ridge, but at a point still at some dis-
tance from the pass. It was necessary to turn along
the arete towards the Monch. We were preparing
to do this by keeping on the snow-ridge, when
Lauener, jumping down about 6 feet on the side
opposite to that by which we had ascended, lighted
upon a little ledge of rock, and called to us to follow.
He assured us that it was granite, and that therefore
there was no danger of slipping. It was caused by
the sun having melted the snow on the southern side
of the ridge, so that it no longer quite covered the
inclined plane of rock upon which it rested. It was
narrow and treacherous enough in appearance at

first ; soon, however, it grew broader, and, compared

219

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

with our ice-climb, afforded capital footing. The
precipice beneath us thinned out as the Viescher
Glacier rose towards our pass, and at last we found
ourselves at the edge of a little mound of snow,
through which a few plunging steps brought us, just
at six o'clock, to the long-desired shoulder of the
Monch.

" I cannot describe the pleasure with which we
stepped at last on to the little saddle of snow, and
felt that we had won the victory."

220

CHAPTER XVIII

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

mountains have been the object of such
repeated attempts by experienced climbers to
reach their summits, as was the rocky pinnacle of the
Aiguille du Dru, at Chamonix. While the name
of Whymper will always be associated with the
Matterhorn, so will that of Clinton Dent be with the
Aiguille du Dru, and the accounts given by him in
his delightful little work, Above the Snow Line, of
his sixteen unavailing scrambles on the peak, followed
by the stirring description of how at last he got up it,
are amongst the romances of mountaineering.

I have space for only a few extracts describing Mr
Dent's early attempts, which even the non-climber
would find very entertaining to read about in the
work from which I quote. The Chamonix people,
annoyed that foreign guides should monopolise the
peak, threw cold water on the idea of ascending
it, and were ready, if they got a chance, to deny

221

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

that it had been ascended. An honourable excep-
tion to the attitude adopted by these gentry, was,
however, furnished by that splendid guide, Edouard
Cupelin, who always asserted that the peak was
climbable, and into whose big mind no trace of
jealousy was ever known to enter.

Very witty are some of the accounts of Mr Dent's
earlier starts for the Aiguille du Dru. On one
occasion, starting in the small hours of the morning
from Chamonix, he reached the Montanvert at 3.30
A.M. " The landlord at once appeared in full
costume," he writes ; " indeed I observed that during
the summer it was impossible to tell from his attire
whether he had risen immediately from bed or no.
Our friend had cultivated to great perfection the art
of half sleeping during his waking hours — that is,
during such time as he might be called upon to
provide entertainment for man and beast. Now, at
the Montanvert, during the tourists' season, this
period extended over the whole twenty-four hours.
It was necessary, therefore, in order that he might
enjoy a proper physiological period of rest, for him to
remain in a dozing state — a sort of aestival hyberna-
tion — for the whole time, which in fact he did ; or
else he was by nature a very dull person, and had
actually a very restricted stock of ideas.

222

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

" The sight of a tourist with an ice-axe led by a kind
of reflex process to the landlord's unburdening his
mind with his usual remarks. Like other natives of
the valley he had but two ideas of * extraordinary '
expeditions. ' Monsieur is going to the Jardin ? ' he
remarked. ' No, monsieur isn't.' * Then, beyond a
doubt, monsieur will cross the Col du Geant?' he
said, playing his trump card. ' No, monsieur will not.'
1 Pardon — where does monsieur expect to go ? ' ' On
the present occasion we go to try the Aiguille du
Dru.' The landlord smiled in an aggravating
manner. * Does monsieur think he will get up ? '
' Time will show.' ' Ah ! ' The landlord, who had a
chronic cold in the head, searched for his pocket-
handkerchief, but not finding it, modified the
necessary sniff into one of derision." On this day the
party did not get up, nor did they gain the summit a
little later when they made another attempt. They
then had with them a porter who gave occasion for
an excellent bit of character-sketching. "He was," says
Mr Dent, " as silent as an oyster, though a strong and
skilful climber, and like an oyster when its youth is
passed, he was continually on the gape." They
mounted higher and higher, and began at last to
think that success awaited them. " Old Franz

chattered away to himself, as was his wont when

223

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

matters went well, and on looking back on one
occasion I perceived the strange phenomenon of a
smile illuminating the porter's features, However,
this worthy spoke no words of satisfaction, but pulled
ever at his empty pipe.

" By dint of wriggling over a smooth sloping stone
slab, we had got into a steep rock gully which
promised to lead us to a good height. Burgener,
assisted by much pushing and prodding from below,
and aided on his own part by much snorting and
some strong language, had managed to climb on to a
great overhanging boulder that cut off the view from
the rest of the party below. As he disappeared from
sight we watched the paying out of the rope with as
much anxiety as a fisherman eyes his vanishing line
when the salmon runs. Presently the rope ceased to
move, and we waited for a few moments in suspense.
We felt that the critical moment of the expedition
had arrived, and the fact that our own view was
exceedingly limited, made us all the more anxious
to hear the verdict. ' How does it look ? ' we called
out. The answer came back in patois, a bad sign in
such emergencies. For a minute or two an animated
conversation was kept up ; then we decided to take
another opinion, and accordingly hoisted up our

second guides. The chatter was redoubled. ' What

224

Ox A VERY STEEP, SMOOTH Sl.AB OF

XKCOTIATIM; STEKI' PASSACKS <>i

To fact i'. ±^5.

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

does it look like ? ' we shouted again. ' Not possible
from where we are,' was the melancholy answer, and
in a tone that crushed at once all our previous elation.
I could not find words at the moment to express
my disappointment ; but the porter could, and
gallantly he came to the rescue. He opened his mouth
for the first time and spoke, and he said very loud
indeed that it was * verdammt.' Precisely : that is
just what it was."

It was not till 1878 that Mr Dent was able to
return to Chamonix. He had now one fixed
determination with regard to the Dru : — either he
would get to the top or prove that the ascent was
impossible.

His first few attempts that season were frustrated
by bad weather, and so persistently did the rain
continue to fall that for a couple of weeks no high
ascents could be thought of. During this time, Mr
Maund, who had been with Mr Dent on many of his
attempts, was obliged to return to England.

" On a mountain such as we knew the Aiguille du
Dru to be, it would not have been wise to make any
attempt with a party of more than four. No doubt
three — that is, an amateur with two guides — would
have been better still, but I had, during the enforced

inaction through which we had been passing, become
P 225

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

so convinced of ultimate success, that I was anxious
to find a companion to share it. Fortunately, J.
Walker Hartley, a highly skilful and practised
mountaineer, was at Chamouni, and it required but
little persuasion to induce him to join our party.
Seizing an opportunity one August day, when the
rain had stopped for a short while, we decided to
try once more, or, at any rate, to see what effects
the climatic phases through which we had been
passing had produced on the Aiguille. With Alex-
ander Burgener and Andreas Maurer still as guides,
we ascended once again the slopes by the side of
the Charpoua Glacier, and succeeded in discovering
a still more eligible site for a bivouac than on our
previous attempts. A little before four the next
morning we extracted each other from our respec-
tive sleeping bags, and made our way rapidly up
the glacier. The snow still lay thick everywhere
on the rocks, which were fearfully cold, and glazed
with thin layers of slippery ice ; but our purpose
was very serious that day, and we were not to be
deterred by anything short of unwarrantable risk.
We intended the climb to be merely one of explora-
tion, but were resolved to make it as thorough as
possible, and with the best results. From the middle

of the slope leading up to the ridge the guides went

226

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

on alone, while we stayed to inspect and work out
bit by bit the best routes over such parts of the
mountain as lay within view. In an hour or two
Burgener and Maurer came back to us, and the
former invited me to go on with him back to the
point from which he had just descended. His invi-
tation was couched in gloomy terms, but there was
a twinkle at the same time in his eye which it was
easy to interpret — ce riest que Fceil qui rit. We
started off, and climbed without the rope up the way
which was now so familiar, but which on this occa-
sion, in consequence of the glazed condition of the
rocks, was as difficult as it could well be ; but for
a growing conviction that the upper crags were not
so bad as they looked, we should scarcely have per-
severed. ' Wait a little,' said Burgener, ' I will show
you something presently.' We reached at last a
great knob of rock close below the ridge, and for a
long time sat a little distance apart silently staring
at the precipices of the upper peak. I asked Bur-
gener what it might be that he had to show me. He
pointed to a little crack some way off, and begged
that I would study it, and then fell again to gazing
at it very hard himself. Though we scarcely knew it
at the time this was the turning point of our year's

climbing. Up to that moment I had only felt doubts

227

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

as to the inaccessibility of the mountain. Now a
certain feeling of confident elation began to creep
over me. The fact is, that we gradually worked
ourselves up into the right mental condition, and the
aspect of a mountain varies marvellously according
to the beholder's frame of mind. These same crags
had been by each of us independently, at one time
or another, deliberately pronounced impossible. They
were in no better condition that day than usual, in
fact, in much worse order than we had often seen
them before. Yet, notwithstanding that good judges
had ridiculed the idea of finding a way up the pre-
cipitous wall, the prospect looked different that day
as turn by turn we screwed our determination up to
the sticking point. Here and there we could clearly
trace short bits of practicable rock ledges along
which a man might walk, or over which at any rate
he might transport himself, while cracks and irregu-
larities seemed to develop as we looked. Gradually,
uniting and communicating passages appeared to form.
Faster and faster did our thoughts travel, and at last
we rose and turned to each other. The same train
of ideas had independently been passing through our
minds. Burgener's face flushed, his eyes brightened,
and he struck a great blow with his axe as we ex-
claimed almost together, ' It must, and it shall be done!'

228

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

" The rest of the day was devoted to bringing down
the long ladder, which had previously been deposited
close below the summit of the ridge, to a point much
lower and nearer to the main peak. This ladder had
not hitherto been of the slightest assistance on the
rocks, and had, indeed, proved a source of constant
anxiety and worry, for it was ever prone to precipitate
its lumbering form headlong down the slope. We
had, it is true, used it occasionally on the glacier to
bridge over the crevasses, and had saved some time
thereby. Still, we were loth to discard its aid
altogether, and accordingly devoted much time and
no little exertion to hauling it about and fixing it in
a place of security. It was late in the evening before
we had made all our preparations for the next
assault and turned to the descent, which proved to
be exceedingly difficult on this occasion. The snow
had become very soft during the day ; the late hour
and the melting above caused the stones to fall so
freely down the gully that we gave up that line of
descent and made our way over the face. Often, in
travelling down, we were buried up to the waist in
soft snow overlying rock slabs, of which we knew no
more than that they were very smooth and inclined
at a highly inconvenient angle. It was imperative

for one only to move at a time, and the perpetual

229

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

roping and unroping was most wearisome. In one
place it was necessary to pay out 1 50 feet of rope
between one position of comparative security and the
one next below it, till the individual who was thus
lowered looked like a bait at the end of a deep sea-
line. One step and the snow would crunch up in a
wholesome manner and yield firm support. The
next, and the leg plunged in as far as it could reach,
while the submerged climber would, literally, struggle
in vain to collect himself. Of course those above, to
whom the duty of paying out the rope was entrusted,
would seize the occasion to jerk as violently at the
cord as a cabman does at his horse's mouth when he
has misguided the animal round a corner. Now
another step, and a layer of snow not more than
a foot deep would slide off with a gentle hiss, ex-
posing bare, black ice beneath, or treacherous loose
stones. Nor were our difficulties at an end when
we reached the foot of the rocks, for the head of the
glacier had fallen away from the main mass of the
mountain, even as an ill-constructed bow-window
occasionally dissociates itself from the fagade of a
jerry-built villa, and some very complicated manoeuvr-
ing was necessary in order to reach the snow slopes.
It was not till late in the evening that we reached

Chamouni ; but it would have mattered nothing to

230

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

us even had we been benighted, for we had seen all
that we had wanted to see, and I would have staked
my existence now on the possibility of ascending the
peak. But the moment was not yet at hand, and
our fortress held out against surrender to the very
last by calling in its old allies, sou'-westerly winds
and rainy weather. The whirligig of time had not
yet revolved so as to bring us in our revenge.

" Perhaps the monotonous repetition of failures
on the peak influences my recollection of what
took place subsequently to the expedition last
mentioned. Perhaps (as I sometimes think even
now) an intense desire to accomplish our
ambition ripened into a realisation of actual occur-
rences which really were only efforts of imagination.
This much I know, that when on 7th September
we sat once more round a blazing wood fire at
the familiar bivouac gazing pensively at the crack-
ling fuel, it seemed hard to persuade one's self that
so much had taken place since our last attempt.
Leaning back against the rock and closing the
eyes for a moment it seemed but a dream, whose
reality could be disproved by an effort of the will,
that we had gone to Zermatt in a storm and

hurried back again in a drizzle on hearing that some

231

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

other climbers were intent on our peak ; that we
had left Chamouni in rain and tried, for the seven-
teenth time, in a tempest ; that matters had
seemed so utterly hopeless, seeing that the season
was far advanced and the days but short, as to
induce me to return to England, leaving minute
directions that if the snow should chance to melt and
the weather to mend I might be summoned back at
once ; that after eight-and-forty hours of sojourn
in the fogs of my native land an intimation had
come by telegraph of glad tidings ; that I had
posted off straightway by grande vitesse back to
Chamouni ; that I had arrived there at four in the
morning."

Once more the party mounted the now familiar
slopes above their bivouac, and somehow on this
occasion they all felt that something definite would
come of the expedition, even if they did not on
that occasion actually reach the top.

I give the remainder of the account in Mr
Dent's own words :

" Now, personal considerations had to a great
extent to be lost sight of in the desire to make
the most of the day, and the result was that
Hartley must have had a very bad time of it.

Unfortunately, perhaps for him, he was by far the

232

('>F T

( UNIVERSITY

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

lightest member of the party ; accordingly we
argued that he was far less likely to break the
rickety old ladder than we were. Again, as the
lightest weight, he was most conveniently lowered
down first over awkward places when they
occurred.

" In the times which are spoken of as old, and
which have also, for some not very definable reason,
the prefix good, if you wanted your chimneys
iwept you did not employ an individual now digni-
fied by the title of a Ramoneur, but you adopted
the simpler plan of calling in a master sweep.
This person would come attended by a satellite, who
wore the outward form of a boy and was gifted
with certain special physical attributes. Especially
was it necessary that the boy should be of such
a size and shape as to fit nicely to the chimney ,„
not so loosely on the one hand as to have any
difficulty in ascending by means of his knees and
elbows, nor so tightly on the other as to run any
peril of being wedged in. The boy was then in-
serted into the chimney and did all the work,
while the master remained below or sat expectant
on the roof to encourage, to preside over, and sub-
sequently to profit by, his apprentice's exertions.

We adopted much the same principle. Hartley,

233

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

as the lightest, was cast for the role of the jeune
premier, or boy, while Burgener and I on
physical grounds alone filled the part, however un-
worthily, of the master sweep. As a play not
infrequently owes its success to one actor so did
our jeune premier, sometimes very literally, pull
us through on the present occasion. Gallantly
indeed did he fulfil his duty. Whether climbing
up a ladder slightly out of the perpendicular,
leaning against nothing in particular and with
overhanging rocks above ; whether let down by
a rope tied round his waist, so that he dangled
like the sign of the ' Golden Fleece ' outside a
haberdasher's shop, or hauled up smooth slabs of
rock with his raiment in an untidy heap around
his neck ; in each and all of these exercises he
was equally at home, and would be let down or
would come up smiling. One place gave us great
difficulty. An excessively steep wall of rock pre-
sented itself and seemed to bar the way to a
higher level. A narrow crack ran some little way
up the face, but above the rock was [slightly over-
hanging, and the water trickling from some higher
point had led to the formation of a huge bunch of
gigantic icicles, which hung down from above. It

was necessary to get past these, but impossible

234

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

to cut them away, as they would have fallen on
us below. Burgener climbed a little way up the
face, planted his back against it, and held on to
the ladder in front of him, while I did the same
just below : by this means we kept the ladder
almost prependicular, but feared to press the
highest rung heavily against the icicles above lest
we should break them off. We now invited
Hartley to mount up. For the first few steps it
was easy enough; but the leverage was more and
more against us as he climbed higher, seeing that
he could not touch the rock, and the strain on
our arms below was very severe. However, he
got safely to the top and disappeared from view.
The performance was a brilliant one, but, fortu-
nately, had not to be repeated ; as on a sub-
sequent occasion, by a deviation of about 15
or 20 feet, we climbed to the same spot in
a few minutes with perfect ease and without using
any ladder at all. On this occasion, however, we
must have spent fully an hour while Hartley per-
formed his feats, which were not unworthy of a
Japanese acrobat. Every few feet of the mountain
at this part gave us difficulty, and it was curious
to notice how, on this the first occasion of travel-
ling over the rock face, we often selected the

235

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

wrong route in points of detail. We ascended
from 20 to 25 feet, then surveyed right and left,
up and down, before going any further. The
minutes slipped by fast, but I have no doubt now
that if we had had time we might have ascended
to the final arete on this occasion. We had often
to retrace our steps, and whenever we did so
found some slightly different line by which time
could have been saved. Though the way was
always difficult nothing was impossible, and when
the word at last was given, owing to the failing
light, to descend, we had every reason to be satis-
fied with the result of the day's exploration.
There seemed to be little doubt that we had tra-
versed the most difficult part of the mountain, and,
indeed, we found on a later occasion, with one or
two notable exceptions, that such was the case.

However, at the time we did not think that, even
if it were possible, it would be at all advisable to
make our next attempt without a second guide. A
telegram had been sent to Kaspar Maurer, instruct-
ing him to join us at the bivouac with all possible
expedition. The excitement was thus kept up to the
very last, for we knew not whether the message might
have reached him, and the days of fine weather were
precious.

236

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

"It was late in the evening when we reached again
the head of the glacier, and the point where we had
left the feeble creature who had started with us as a
second guide. On beholding us once more he wept
copiously, but whether his tears were those of grati-
tude for release from the cramped position in which
he had spent his entire day, or of joy at seeing us
safe again, or whether they were the natural overflow
of an imbecile intellect stirred by any emotion what-
ever, it were hard to say ; at any rate he wept, and
then fell to a description of some interesting details
concerning the proper mode of bringing up infants,
and the duties of parents towards their children ; the
most important of which, in his estimation, was that
the father of a family should run no risk whatever
on a mountain. Reaching our bivouac, we looked
anxiously down over the glacier for any signs of
Kaspar Maurer. Two or three parties were seen
crawling homewards towards the Montanvert over
the ice-fields, but no signs of our guide were visible.
As the shades of night, however, were falling, we
were able indistinctly to see in the far-off distance
a little black dot skipping over the Mer de Glace
with great activity. Most eagerly did we watch the
apparition, and when finally it headed in our direc-
tion, and all doubt was removed as to the personality,

237

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURJE

we felt that our constant ill-luck was at last on the
eve of changing. However, it was not till two days
later that we left Chamouni once more for the nine-
teenth, and, as it proved, for the last time to try the
peak.

" On I ith September we sat on the rocks a few feet
above the camping-place. Never before had we been
so confident of success. The next day's climb was
no longer to be one of exploration. We were to
start as early as the light would permit, and we were
to go up and always up, if necessary till the light
should fail. Possibly we might have succeeded long
before if we had had the same amount of determina-
tion to do so that we were possessed with on this
occasion. We had made up our minds to succeed,
and felt as if all our previous attempts had been but
a sort of training for this special occasion. We had
gone so far as to instruct our friends below to look
out for us on the summit between twelve and two the
next day. We had even gone to the length of bring-
ing a stick wherewith to make a flagstaff on the top.
Still one, and that a very familiar source of dis-
quietude, harassed us as our eyes turned anxiously
to the west. A single huge band of cloud hung
heavily right across the sky, and looked like a

harbinger of evil, for it was of a livid colour above,

238

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

and tinged with a deep crimson red below. My
companion was despondent at the prospect it sug-
gested, and the guides tapped their teeth with their
forefingers when they looked in that direction ; but
it was suggested by a more sanguine person that its
form and very watery look suggested a Band of
Hope. An insinuating smell of savoury soup was
wafted up gently from below —

* Stealing and giving odour.'

We took courage; then descended to the tent, and
took sustenance.

" There was no difficulty experienced in making an
early start the next day, and the moment the grey
light allowed us to see our way we set off. On such
occasions, when the mind is strung up to a high pitch
of excitement, odd and trivial little details and inci-
dents fix themselves indelibly on the memory. I can
recall as distinctly now, as if it had only happened a
moment ago, the exact tone of voice in which Bur-
gener, on looking out of the tent, announced that the
weather would do. Burgener and Kaspar Maurer
were now our guides, for our old enemy with the
family ties had been paid off and sent away with a
flea in his ear — an almost unnecessary adjunct, as
anyone who had slept in the same tent with him

could testify. Notwithstanding that Maurer was far

239

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

from well, and, rather weak, we mounted rapidly at
first, for the way was by this time familiar enough,
and we all meant business.

" Our position now was this. By our exploration
on the last occasion we had ascertained that it was
possible to ascend to a great height on the main
mass of the mountain. From the slope of the rocks,
and from the shape of the mountain, we felt sure that
the final crest would be easy enough. We had then
to find a way still up the face, from the point where
we had turned back on our last attempt, to some
point on the final ridge of the mountain. The rocks
on this part we had never been able to examine very
closely, for it is necessary to cross well over to the
south-eastern face while ascending from the ridge
between the Aiguille du Dru and the Aiguille Verte.
A great projecting buttress of rock, some two or
three hundred feet in height, cuts off the view of
that part of the mountain over which we now hoped
to make our way. By turning up straight behind
this buttress, we hoped to hit off and reach the
final crest just above the point where it merges
into the precipitous north-eastern wall visible from
the Chapeau. This part of the mountain can only
be seen from the very head of the Glacier de la

Charpoua just under the mass of the Aiguille Verte.

240

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

But this point of view is too far off for accurate
observations, and the strip of mountain was practi-
cally, therefore, a terra incognita to us.

" We followed the gully running up from the head
of the glacier towards the ridge above mentioned,
keeping well to the left. Before long it was neces-
sary to cross the gully on to the main peak. To
make the topography clearer a somewhat prosaic and
domestic simile may be employed. The Aiguille du
Dru and the Aiguille Verte are connected by a long
sharp ridge, towards which we were now climbing ;
and this ridge is let in, as it were, into the south-
eastern side of the Aiguille du Dru, much as a comb
may be stuck into the middle of a hairbrush, the
latter article representing the main peak. Here we
employed the ladder which had been placed in the
right position the day previously. Right glad were
we to see the rickety old structure, which had now
spent four years on the mountain, and was much the
worse for it. It creaked and groaned dismally under
our weight, and ran sharp splinters into us at all
points of contact, but yet there was a certain com-
panionship about the old ladder, and we seemed
almost to regret that it was not destined to share
more in our prospective success. A few steps on

and we came to a rough cleft some five-and-twenty
Q 241

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

feet in depth, which had to be descended. A double
rope was fastened to a projecting crag, and we swung
ourselves down as if we were barrels of split peas
going into a ship's hold ; then to the ascent again ,
and the excitement waxed stronger as we drew
nearer to the doubtful part of the mountain. Still,
we did not anticipate insuperable obstacles ; for I
think we were possessed with a determination to
succeed, which is a sensation often spoken of as a
presentiment of success. A short climb up an easy
broken gully, and of a sudden we seemed to be
brought to a stand still. A little ledge at our feet
curled round a projecting crag on the left. 'What
are we to do now ? ' said Burgener, but with a smile
on his face that left no doubt as to the answer. He
lay flat down on the ledge and wriggled round the
projection, disappearing suddenly from view, as if
the rock had swallowed him up. A shout proclaimed
that his expectations had not been deceived, and we
were bidden to follow ; and follow we did, sticking
to the flat face of the rock with all our power, and
progressing like the skates down the glass sides of
an aquarium tank. When the last man joined us
we found ourselves all huddled together on a very
little ledge indeed, while an overhanging rock above

compelled us to assume the anomalous attitude en-

242

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

forced on the occupant of a little-ease dungeon.
What next ? An eager look up solved part of the
doubt. ' There is the way/ said Burgener, leaning
back to get a view. ' Oh, indeed,1 we answered. No
doubt there was a way, and we were glad to hear
that it was possible to get up it. The attractions of
the route consisted of a narrow flat gully plastered
up with ice, exceeding straight and steep, and crowned
at the top with a pendulous mass of enormous icicles.
The gully resembled a half-open book standing up
on end. Enthusiasts in rock-climbing who have
ascended the Riffelhorn from the Corner Glacier side
will have met with a similar gully, but, as a rule, free
from ice, which, in the present instance, constituted
the chief difficulty. The ice, filling up the receding
angle from top to bottom, rendered it impossible to
find handhold on the rocks, and it was exceedingly
difficult to cut steps in such a place, for the slabs of
ice were prone to break away entire. However, the
guides said they could get up, and asked us to keep
out of the way of chance fragments of ice which
might fall down as they ascended. So we tucked
ourselves away on one side, and they fell to as
difficult a business as could well be imagined. The
rope was discarded, and slowly they worked up,

their backs and elbows against one sloping wall,

243

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

their feet against the other. But the angle was too
wide to give security to this position, the more
especially that with shortened axes they were com-
pelled to hack out enough of the ice to reveal the
rock below. In such places the ice is but loosely
adherent, being raised up from the face much as
pie-crust dissociates itself from the fruit beneath
under the influence of the oven. Strike lightly with
the axe, and a hollow sound is yielded without much
impression on the ice; strike hard, and the whole
mass breaks away. But the latter method is the
right one to adopt, though it necessitates very hard
work. No steps are really reliable when cut in ice
of this description.

" The masses of ice, coming down harder and harder
as they ascended without intermission, showed how
they were working, and the only consolation we had
during a time that we felt to be critical, was that the
guides were not likely to expend so much labour
unless they thought that some good result would
come of it. Suddenly there came a sharp shout and
cry ; then a crash as a great slab of ice, falling from
above, was dashed into pieces at our feet and leaped
into the air ; then a brief pause, and we knew not
what would happen next. Either the gully had

been ascended or the guides had been pounded, and

244

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

failure here might be failure altogether. It is true
that Hartley and I had urged the guides to find a
way some little distance to the right of the line on
which they were now working ; but they had reported
that, though easy below, the route we had pointed
out was impossible above.1 A faint scratching noise
close above us, as of a mouse perambulating behind
a wainscot. We look up. It is the end of a rope.
We seize it, and our pull from below is answered by
a triumphant yell from above as the line is drawn
taut. Fastening the end around my waist, I started
forth. The gully was a scene of ruin, and I could
hardly have believed that two axes in so short a
time could have dealt so much destruction. Nowhere
were the guides visible, and in another moment there
was a curious sense of solitariness as I battled with
the obstacles, aided in no small degree by the
rope. The top of the gully was blocked up by a
great cube of rock, dripping still where the icicles
had just been broken off. The situation appeared
to me to demand deliberation, though it was not
accorded. 'Come on/ said voices from above. 'Up
you go,' said a voice from below. I leaned as far
back as I could, and felt about for a handhold. There

1 It has transpired since that our judgment happened to be
right in this matter, and we might probably have saved an hour
or more at this part of the ascent.

245

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

was none. Everything seemed smooth. Then right,
then left ; still none. So I smiled feebly to myself,
and called out, * Wait a minute.' This was, of
course, taken as an invitation to pull vigorously,
and, struggling and kicking like a spider irritated
by tobacco smoke, I topped the rock, and lent a
hand on the rope for Hartley to follow. Then we
learnt that a great mass of ice had broken away
under Maurer's feet while they were in the gully,
and that he must have fallen had not Burgener
pinned him to the rock with one hand. From the
number of times that this escape was described to us
during that day and the next, I am inclined to think
that it was rather a near thing. At the time, and
often since, I have questioned myself as to whether
we could have got up this passage without the rope
let down from above. I think either of us could have
done it in time with a companion. It was necessary
for two to be in the gully at the same time, to assist
each other. It was necessary, also, to discard the
rope, which in such a place could only be a source of
danger. But no amateur should have tried the
passage on that occasion without confidence in his
own powers, and without absolute knowledge of the
limit of his own powers. If the gully had been free
from ice it would have been much easier.

246

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

" ' The worst is over now,' said Burgener. I was
glad to hear it, but looking upwards, had my doubts.
The higher we went the bigger the rocks seemed to
be. Still there was a way, and it was not so very
unlike what I had, times out of mind, pictured to
myself in imagination. Another tough scramble, and
we stood on a comparatively extensive ledge. With
elation we observed that we had now climbed more
than half of the only part of the mountain of the
nature of which we were uncertain. A few steps on
and Burgener grasped me suddenly by the arm.
•' Do you see the great red rock up yonder ? ' he
whispered, hoarse with excitement — * in ten minutes

we shall be there and on the arete, and then -'

Nothing could stop us now ; but a feverish anxiety
to see what lay beyond, to look on the final slope
which we knew must be easy, impelled us on, and
we worked harder than ever to overcome the last few
obstacles. The ten minutes expanded into some-
thing like thirty before we really reached the rock.
Of a sudden the mountain seemed to change its form.
For hours we had been climbing the hard, dry rocks.
Now these appeared suddenly to vanish from under
our feet, and once again our eyes fell on snow which
lay thick, half hiding, half revealing, the final slope of

the ridge. A glance along it showed that we had

247

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

not misjudged. Even the cautious Maurer admitted
that, as far as we could see, all appeared promising.
And now, with the prize almost within our grasp, a
strange desire to halt and hang back came on. Bur-
gener tapped the rock with his axe, and we seemed
somehow to regret that the way in front of us must
prove comparatively easy. Our foe had almost
yielded, and it appeared something like cruelty to
administer the final coup de grace. We could already
anticipate the half-sad feeling with which we should
reach the top itself. It needed but little to make the
feeling give way. Some one cried * Forward,' and
instantly we were all in our places again, and the
leader's axe crashed through the layers of snow into
the hard blue ice beneath. A dozen steps, and then
a short bit of rock scramble ; then more steps along
the south side of the ridge, followed by more rock,
and the ridge beyond, which had been hidden for a
minute or two, stretched out before us again as we
topped the first eminence. Better and better it
looked as we went on. ' See there/ cried Burgener
suddenly, ' the actual top ! '

"There was no possibility of mistaking the two huge
stones we had so often looked at from below. They
seemed, in the excitement of the moment, misty and

blurred for a brief space, but grew clear again as I

248

THE AIGUILLE DU DRU

passed my hand over my eyes, and seemed to
swallow something. A few feet below the pinnacles
and on the left was one of those strange arches
formed by a great transverse boulder, so common
near the summits of these aiguilles, and through the
hole we could see blue sky. Nothing could lay
beyond, and, still better, nothing could be above.
On again, while we could scarcely stand still in the
great steps the leader set his teeth to hack out.
Then there came a short troublesome bit of snow
scramble, where the heaped-up cornice had fallen
back from the final rock. There we paused for a
moment, for the summit was but a few feet from us,
and Hartley, who was ahead, courteously allowed me
to unrope and go on first. In a few seconds I
clutched at the last broken rocks, and hauled myself
up on to the sloping summit. There for a moment I
stood alone gazing down on Chamouni. The holiday
dream of five years was accomplished ; the Aiguille
du Dru was climbed. Where in the wide world will
you find a sport able to yield pleasure like this ? "

249

CHAPTER XIX

THE MOST FAMOUS MOUNTAIN IN THE ALPS— THE
CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

"' ' • '•HE story of the Matterhorn must always be
one of unique attraction. Like a good play,
it resumes and concentrates in itself the incidents
of a prolonged struggle — the conquest of the Alps.
The strange mountain stood forth as a Goliath in
front of the Alpine host, and when it found its con-
queror there was a general feeling that the subjuga-
tion of the High Alps by human effort was decided,
a feeling which has been amply justified by events.
The contest itself was an eventful one. It was
marked by a race between eager rivals, and the final
victory was marred by the most terrible of Alpine
accidents.

" As a writer, Mr Whymper has proved himself
equal to his subject. His serious, emphatic style, his
concentration on his object, take hold of his readers

and make them follow his campaigns with as much

250

MR. AND MRS, SEILER AND THREE OK THEIK DAUGHTERS. ZER.MATT, 1890.

GOING LEISURELY TO ZfiRMATT WITH A AIuLE FOR THE LUGGAGE IN* THE OLDEN DAYS

To face p. 250.

MOST FAMOUS MOUNTAIN IN THE ALPS

interest as if some great stake depended on the
result. No one can fail to remark the contrast
between the many unsuccessful attacks which pre-
ceded the fall of the Matterhorn, and the frequency
with which it is now climbed by amateurs, some of
whom it would be courtesy to call indifferent climbers.
The moral element has, of course, much to do with
this. But allowance must also be made for the fact
that the Breil ridge, which looks the easiest, is still
the most difficult, and in its unbechained state was
far the most difficult. The terrible appearance of the
Zermatt and Zmutt ridges long deterred climbers,
yet both have now yielded to the first serious attack."
These words, taken from a review of Mr Whymper's
Ascent of the Matterhorn, occur in vol. ix. on page
441 of The Alpine Journal. They are as true now as
on the day when they appeared, but could the writer
have known the future history of the great peak, and
the appalling vengeance it called down over and over
again on " amateurs " and the guides who, themselves
unfit, tempted their ignorant charges to go blindly
to their deaths, one feels he would have stood
aghast at the contemplation of the tragedies to be

enacted on the blood-stained precipices of that hoary
peak.

251

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

WHEN one remembers all the facilities for climbing
which are found at present in every Alpine centre, the
experienced guides who may be had, the comfortable
huts which obviate the need for a bivouac out of doors,
the knowledge of the art of mountaineering which is
available if any desire to acquire it, one marvels more
and more at the undaunted persistence displayed by
the pioneers of present-day mountaineering in their
struggle with the immense difficulties which beset
them on every side.

When, in 1861, Mr Whymper made his first attempt
on the Matterhorn, the first problem he had to solve
was that of obtaining a skilful guide. Michael Croz
of Chamonix believed the ascent to be impossible.
Bennen thought the same. Jean Antoine Carrel was
dictatorial and unreasonable in his demands, though
convinced that the summit could be gained. Peter
Taugwalder asked 200 francs whether the top was
reached or not. " Aimer asked, with more point than
politeness, ' Why don't you try to go up a mountain
which can be ascended ? ' '

In 1862 Mr Whymper, who had three times during
the previous summer tried to get up the mountain,

returned to Breuil on the Italian side, and thence

252

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

made five plucky attempts, sometimes with Carrel,
and once alone, to go to the highest point it was
possible to reach. On the occasion of his solitary
climb, Mr Whymper had set out from Breuil to see if
his tent, left on a ledge of the mountain, was still, in
spite of recent storms, safely in its place. He found
all in good order, and tempted to linger by the lovely
weather, time slipped away, and he at last decided to
sleep that night in the tent, which contained ample
provisions for several days. The next morning Mr
Whymper could not resist an attempt to explore the
route towards the summit, and eventually he managed
to reach a considerable height, much above that
attained by any of his predecessors. Exulting in the
hope of entire success in the near future, he returned
to the tent. " My exultation was a little premature,"
he writes, and goes on to describe what befell him on
the way down. I give the thrilling account of his
adventure in his. own words: —

"About 5 P.M. I left the tent again, and thought
myself as good as at Breuil. The friendly rope and
claw had done good service, and had smoothened all
the difficulties. I lowered myself through the
chimney, however, by making a fixture of the rope,
which I then cut off, and left behind, as there was

enough and to spare. My axe had proved a great

253

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

nuisance in coming down, and I left it in the tent.
It was not attached to the baton, but was a separate
affair — an old navy boarding-axe. While cutting up
the different snow-beds on the ascent, the baton
trailed behind fastened to the rope ; and, when climb-
ing, the axe was carried behind, run through the rope
tied round my waist, and was sufficiently out of the
way ; but in descending when coming down face
outwards (as is always best where it is possible), the
head or the handle of the weapon caught frequently
against the rocks, and several times nearly upset me.
So, out of laziness if you will, it was left in the tent.
I paid dearly for the imprudence.

" The Col du Lion was passed, and fifty yards
more would have placed me on the ' Great Staircase/
down which one can run. But, on arriving at an
angle of the cliffs of the Tete du Lion, while skirting
the upper edge of the snow which abuts against them,
I found that the heat of the two past days had
nearly obliterated the steps which had been cut when
coming up. The rocks happened to be impracticable
just at this corner, and it was necessary to make
the steps afresh. The snow was too hard to beat or
tread down, and at the angle it was all but ice ; half
a dozen steps only were required, and then the

ledges could be followed again. So I held to the

254

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

rock with my right hand, and prodded at the snow
with the point of my stick until a good step was
made, and then, leaning round the angle, did the
same for the other side. So far well, but in attempt-
ing to pass the corner (to the present moment I
cannot tell how it happened), I slipped and fell.

"The slope was steep on which this took place,
and was at the top of a gully that led down through
two subordinate buttresses towards the Glacier du
Lion — which was just seen a thousand feet below.
The gully narrowed and narrowed, until there was a
mere thread of snow lying between two walls of rock,
which came to an abrupt termination at the top of a
precipice that intervened between it and the glacier.
Imagine a funnel cut in half through its length,
placed at an angle of 45° with its point below,
and its concave side uppermost, and you will have
a fair idea of the place.

" The knapsack brought my head down first, and I
pitched into some rocks about a dozen feet below ;
they caught something and tumbled me off the edge,
head over heels, into the gully ; the baton was
dashed from my hands, and I whirled downwards in
a series of bounds, each longer than the last ; now
over ice, now into rocks ; striking my head four or

five times, each time with increased force. The last

255

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

bound sent me spinning through the air, in a leap of
50 or 60 feet, from one side of the gully to the
other, and I struck the rocks, luckily, with the whole
of my left side. They caught my clothes for a
moment, and I fell back on to the snow with motion
arrested. My head, fortunately, came the right side
up, and a few frantic catches brought me to a halt
in the neck of the gully, and on the verge of the
precipice. Baton, hat, and veil skimmed by and
disappeared, and the crash of the rocks — which I had
started — as they fell on to the glacier, told how
narrow had been the escape from utter destruction.
As it was, I fell nearly 200 feet in seven or eight
bounds. Ten feet more would have taken me in one
gigantic leap of 800 feet on to the glacier below.

" The situation was sufficiently serious. The rocks
could not be let go for a moment, and the blood was
spirting out of more than twenty cuts. The most
serious ones were in the head, and I vainly tried to
close them with one hand, whilst holding on with the
other. It was useless ; the blood jerked out in blind-
ing jets at each pulsation. At last, in a moment of
inspiration, I kicked out a big lump of snow, and
stuck it as a plaster on my head. The idea was a
happy one, and the flow of blood diminished. Then,

scrambling up, I got, not a moment too soon, to a

256

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

place of safety, and fainted away. The sun was
setting when consciousness returned, and it was
pitch dark before the Great Staircase was de-
scended ; but, by a combination of luck and care,
the whole 4900 feet of descent to Breuil was accom-
plished without a slip, or once missing the way. I
slunk past the cabin of the cowherds, who were talk-
ing and laughing inside, utterly ashamed of the state
to which I had been brought by my imbecility, and
entered the inn stealthily, wishing to escape to my
room unnoticed. But Favre met me in the passage,
demanded * Who is it ? ' screamed with fright when
he got a light, and aroused the household. Two
dozen heads then held solemn council over mine,
with more talk than action. The natives were unani-
mous in recommending that hot wine mixed with
salt should be rubbed into the cuts; I protested,
but they insisted. It was all the doctoring they
received. Whether their rapid healing was to be
attributed to that simple remedy or to a good state
of health is a question. They closed up remarkably
quickly, and in a few days I was able to move
again."

In 1863 Mr Whymper once more returned to the
attack, but still without success. In 1864 he was

unable to visit the neighbourhood of the Matter-
R 257

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

horn, but in 1865 he made his eighth and last
attempt on the Breuil, or Italian side.

The time had now come when Mr Whymper
became convinced that it was an error to think
the Italian side the easier. It certainly looked far
less steep than the north, or Zermatt side, but on
mountains quality counts for far more than quantity ;
and though the ledges above Breuil might sometimes
be broader than those on the Swiss side, and the
general slope of the mountain appear at a distance
to be gentler, yet the rock had an unpleasant out-
ward dip, giving sloping, precarious hold for hand
or foot, and every now and then there were abrupt
walls of rock which it was hardly possible to ascend,
and out of the question to descend without fixing
ropes or chains.

Now the Swiss side of the great peak differs
greatly from its Italian face. The slope is really
less steep, and the ledges, if narrow, slope inward,
and are good to step on or grasp. Mr Whymper
had noticed that large patches of snow lay on the
mountain all the summer, which they could not do
if the north face was a precipice. He determined,
therefore, to make his next attempt on that side.
He had, in 1865, intended to climb with Michel

Croz, but some misunderstanding had arisen, and

258

Of THE

UNIVERSITY

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

Croz, believing that he was free, had engaged him-
self to another traveller. His letter, "the last one
he wrote to me," says Mr Whymper, is " an interest-
ing souvenir of a brave and upright man." The
following is an extract from it :

"enfin, Monsieur, je regrette beaucoup d'etre
engage avec votre compatriote et de ne pouvoir
vous accompagner dans vos conquetes mais des
qu'on a donne sa parole on doit la tenir et etre
homme.

"Ainsi, prenez patience pour cette campagne et
esperons que plus tard nous nous retrouverons.

"En attendant recevez les humbles salutations de
votre tout devoue.

" CROZ MlCHEL-AUGUSTE."

By an extraordinary series of chances, however,
when Mr Whymper reached Zermatt, whom should
he see sitting on the guides' wall but Croz ! His
employer had been taken ill, and had returned home,
and the great guide was immediately engaged by the
Rev. Charles Hudson for an attempt on the Matter-
horn ! Mr Whymper had been joined by Lord
Francis Douglas and the Taugwalders, father and
son, and thus two parties were about to start for the
Matterhorn at the same hour next day. This was

thought inadvisable, and eventually they joined forces

259

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

and decided to set out the following morning to-
gether. Mr Hudson had a young man travelling
with him, by name Mr Hadow, and when Mr
Whymper enquired if he were sufficiently experi-
enced to take part in the expedition, Mr Hudson
replied in the affirmative, though the fact that Mr
Hadow had recently made a very rapid ascent of
Mont Blanc really proved nothing. Here was the
weakest spot in the whole business, the presence of
a youth, untried on difficult peaks, on a climb which
might involve work of a most unusual kind. Further,
we should now-a-days consider the party both far
too large and wrongly constituted, consisting as it
did of four amateurs, two good guides, and a
porter.

On 1 3th July, 1865, at 5.30 A.M., they started from
Zermatt in cloudless weather. They took things
leisurely that day, for they only intended going a short
distance above the base of the peak, and by 1 2 o'clock
they had found a good position for the tent at about
11,000 feet above sea. The guides went on some
way to explore, and on their return about 3 P.M.
declared that they had not found a single difficulty,
and that success was assured.

The following morning, as soon as it was light

enough to start, they set out, and without trouble

260

S d£

O CJ
'

H gj e

5 -

a §S"
a *. >- i_

Jigs

HO 8

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

they mounted the formidable-looking north face, and
approached the steep bit of rock which it is now
customary to ascend straight up by means of a
fixed chain. But they were obliged to avoid it by
diverging to their right on to the slope overhang-
ing the Zermatt side of the mountain. This
involved somewhat difficult climbing, made especially
awkward by the thin film of ice which at places
overlay the rocks. " It was a place over which
any fair mountaineer might pass in safety," writes Mr
Whymper, and neither here nor anywhere else on
the peak did Mr Hudson require the slightest help.
With Mr Hadow, however, the case was different,
his inexperience necessitating continual assistance.

Before long this solitary difficulty was passed, and,
turning a rather awkward corner, the party saw with
delight that only 200 feet or so of easy snow sepa-
rated them from the top !

Yet even then it was not certain that they had not
been beaten, for a few days before another party, led
by Jean Antoine Carrel, had started from Breuil, and
might have reached the much-desired summit before
them.

The slope eased off more and more, and at last Mr
Whymper and Croz, casting off the rope, ran a neck

and neck race to the top. Hurrah ! not a footstep

261

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

could be seen, and the snow at both ends of the ridge
was absolutely untrampled.

" Where were the men ? " Mr Whymper wondered,
and peering over the cliffs of the Italian side he saw
them as dots far down. They were 1250 feet below,
yet they heard the cries of the successful party on the
top, and knew that victory was not for them. Still a
measure of success awaited them too, for the next
day the bold Carrel, with J. B. Bich, in his turn
reached the summit by the far more difficult route on
the side of his native valley. Carrel was the one
man who had always believed that the Matterhorn
could be climbed, and one can well understand Mr
Whymper's generous wish that he could have shared
in the first ascent.

One short hour was spent on the summit. Then
began the ever-eventful descent.

The climbers commenced to go down the difficult
piece in the following order : Croz first, Hadow next,
then Mr Hudson, after him Lord Francis Douglas,
then old Taugwalder, and lastly Mr Whymper, who
gives an account of what happened almost im-
mediately after in the following words:

" A few minutes later a sharp-eyed lad ran into the
Monte Rosa Hotel to Seiler, saying that he had seen

an avalanche falling from the summit of the Matter-

262

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

horn on to the Matterhorngletscher. The boy was
reproved for telling idle stories ; he was right,
nevertheless, and this was what he saw :

" Michel Croz had laid aside his axe, and in order
to give Mr Hadow greater security, was absolutely
taking hold of his legs, and putting his feet, one by
one, into their proper positions.1 So far as I know,
no one was actually descending. I cannot speak with
certainty, because the two leading men were partially
hidden from my sight by an intervening mass of rock,
but it is my belief, from the movements of their
shoulders, that Croz, having done as I have said, was
in the act of turning round, to go down a step or two
himself; at this moment Mr Hadow slipped, fell
against him, and knocked him over. I heard one
startled exclamation from Croz, then saw him and
Mr Hadow flying downwards. In another moment
Hudson was dragged from his steps, and Lord
Francis Douglas immediately after him.2 AH

1 Not at all an unusual proceeding, even between born moun-
taineers. I wish to convey the impression that Croz was using
all pains, rather than to indicate inability on the part of Mr
Hadow. The insertion of the word "absolutely" makes the
passage, perhaps, rather ambiguous. I retain it now in order
to offer the above explanation.

2 At the moment of the accident Croz, Hadow, and Hudson
were close together. Between Hudson and Lord Francis
Douglas the rope was all but taut, and the same between all
the others who were above. Croz was standing by the side of a.

263

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

this was the work of a moment. Immediately we
heard Croz's exclamation old Peter and I planted
ourselves as firmly as the rocks would permit ; l the
rope was taut between us, and the jerk came on us
both as on one man. We held, but the rope broke
midway between Taugwalder and Lord Francis

rock which afforded good hold, and if he had been aware, or
had suspected that anything was about to occur, he might and
would have gripped it, and would have prevented any mischief.
He was taken totally by surprise. Mr Hadow slipped off his
feet on to his back, his feet struck Croz in the small of the back,
and knocked him right over, head first. Croz's axe was out of
his reach, and without it he managed to get his head uppermost
before he disappeared from our sight. If it had been in his
hand I have no doubt that he would have stopped himself and
Mr Hadow. Mr Hadow, at the moment of the slip, was not
occupying a bad position. He could have moved either up or
down, and could touch with his hand the rock of which I have
spoken. Hudson was not so well placed, but he had liberty of
motion. The rope was not taut from him to Hadow, and the
two men fell 10 or 12 feet before the jerk came upon him.
Lord Francis Douglas was not favourably placed, and could
neither move up nor down. Old Peter was firmly planted, and
stood just beneath a large rock, which he hugged with both
arms. I enter into these details to make it more apparent that
the position occupied by the party at the moment of the accident
was not by any means excessively trying. We were compelled
to pass over the exact spot where the slip occurred, and we
found— even with shaken nerves — that // was not a difficult
place to pass. I have described the slope generally as difficult,
and it is so undoubtedly to most persons, but it must be dis-
tinctly understood that Mr Hadow slipped at a comparatively
easy part.

1 Or, more correctly, we held on as tightly as possible. There
was no time to change our position.

264

A BITTERLY COLD DAY, 13,000 FEET ABOVE SEA.

THK MATTKKMOKN i K-OM THK ZMUTT simc.
The dotted line shows the course which the unfortunate party probably took in their fatal fall.

To face p. 265.

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

Douglas. For a few seconds we saw our unfortunate
companions sliding downwards on their backs, and
spreading out their hands, endeavouring to save
themselves. They passed from our sight uninjured,
disappeared one by one, and fell from precipice to
precipice on to the Matterhorngletscher below, a dis-
tance of nearly 4000 feet in height. From the moment
the rope broke it was impossible to help them. So
perished our comrades ! "

A more terrible position than that of Mr Whymper
and the Taugwalders it is difficult to imagine. The
Englishman kept his head, however, though the two
guides, absolutely paralysed with terror, lost all control
over themselves, and for a long time could not be in-
duced to move. At last old Peter changed his position,
and soon the three stood close together. Mr Whymper
then examined the broken rope, and found to his
horror that it was the weakest of the three ropes, and
had only been intended as a reserve to fix to rocks
and leave behind. How it came to have been used will
always remain a mystery, but that it broke and was
not cut there is no doubt. Taugwalder's neighbours
at Zermatt persisted in asserting that he severed the
rope. " In regard to this infamous charge," writes
Mr Whymper, " I say that he could not do so at the

•moment of the slip, and that the end of the rope in

265

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

my possession shows that he did not do so before-
hand."

At 6 P.M., after a terribly trying descent, during any
moment of which the Taugwalders, still completely
unnerved, might have slipped and carried the whole
party to destruction, they arrived on " the ridge de-
scending towards Zermatt, and all peril was over."
But it was still a long way to the valley, and an hour
after nightfall the climbers were obliged to seek a
resting-place, and upon a slab barely large enough to
hold the three they spent six miserable hours. At
daybreak they started again, and descended rapidly
to Zermatt.

" Seiler met me at the door. ' What is the matter ? '
* The Taugwalders and I have returned.' He did not
need more, and burst into tears."

At 2 A.M. on Sunday the i6th, Mr Whymper and
two other Englishmen, with a number of Chamonix
and Oberland guides, set out to discover the bodies.
The Zermatt men, threatened with excommunication
by their priests if they failed to attend early Mass
were unable to accompany them, and to some of them
this was a severe trial. By 8.30 they reached the
plateau at the top of the glacier, and came within
sight of the spot where their companions must be.

" As we saw one weather-beaten man after another

266

THE CONQUEST OF THE MATTERHORN

raise the telescope, turn deadly pale, and pass it on
without a word to the next, we knew that all hope
was gone."

They drew near, and found the bodies of Croz,
Hadow and Hudson close together, but of Lord
Francis Douglas they could see nothing, though a
pair of gloves, a belt and a boot belonging to him
were found. The boots of all the victims were off,
and lying on the snow close by. This frequently
happens when persons have fallen a long distance
down rocks.

Eventually the remains were brought down to
Zermatt, a sad and dangerous task.

So ends the story of the conquest of the Matter-
horn. Its future history is marred by many a tragedy,
of which perhaps none are more pathetic, or were
more wholly unnecessary, than what is known as the
Borckhardt accident.

267

CHAPTER XX

SOME TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

T)Y the summer of 1886 it had become common
for totally inexperienced persons with in-
competent guides (for no first-rate guide would
undertake such a task) to make the ascent of the
Matterhorn. In fine settled weather they con-
trived to get safely up and down the mountain.
But like all high peaks the Matterhorn is subject
to sudden atmospheric changes, and a high wind
or falling snow will in an hour or less change the
whole character of the work and make the descent
one of extreme difficulty even for experienced
mountaineers. Practically unused to Alpine climb-
ing, thinly clothed, and accompanied by young
guides of third-rate ability, what wonder is it that
when caught in a storm, a member of the party,
whose expedition is described below, perished ?

The editor of The Alpine Journal writes : " On
268

JOST, FOR MANY YEARS PORTER OF THE MONTE ROSA HOTEL,
ZER.MATT.

To face p. 268.

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

the morning of I7th August last four parties of
travellers left the lower hut on the mountain and
attained the summit. One of them, that of Mr
Mercer, reached Zermatt the same night. The
three others were much delayed by a sudden storm
which came on during the descent. Two Dutch
gentlemen, led by Moser and Peter Taugwald,
regained the lower hut at an advanced hour of
the night ; but Monsieur A. de Falkner and his
son (with J. P. and Daniel Maquignaz, and Angelo
Ferrari, of Pinzolo), and Messrs John Davies and
Frederick Charles Borckhardt (with Fridolin
Kronig and Peter Aufdemblatten), were forced to
spend the night out; the latter party, indeed,
spent part of the next day (i8th August) out as
well, and Mr Borckhardt unfortunately suc-
cumbed to the exposure in the afternoon. He
was the youngest son of the late vicar of Lydden,
and forty-eight years of age. Neither he nor
Mr Davies was a member of the Alpine Club."

The Pall Mall Gazette published on 24th
August the account given by Mr Davies to an inter-
viewer. It is as follows, and the inexperience of
the climbers is made clear in every line: —

" We left Zermatt about 2 o'clock on Monday

afternoon in capital spirits. The weather was

269

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

lovely, and everything promised a favourable
ascent. We had two guides whose names were
on the official list, whose references were satis-
factory, and who were twice over recommended
to us by Herr Seiler, whose advice we sought
before we engaged them, and who gave them ex-
cellent credentials. We placed ourselves in their
hands, as is the rule in such cases, ordered the
provisions and wine which they declared to be
necessary, and made ready for the ascent. I had
lived among hills from my boyhood. I had some
experience of mountaineering in the Pyrenees, where
I ascended the highest and other peaks. In the
Engadine I have also done some climbing ; and
last week, together with Mr Borckhardt, who was
one of my oldest friends, I made the ascent of
the Titlis, and made other excursions among the
hills. Mr Borckhardt was slightly my senior, but
as a walker he was quite equal to me in endur-
ance. When we arrived at Zermatt last Saturday
we found that parties were going up the Matter-
horn on Monday. We knew that ladies had made
the ascent, and youths; and the mountain besides
had been climbed by friends of ours whose physical
strength, to say the least, was not superior to ours.

It was a regular thing to go up the Matterhorn,

270

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

and we accordingly determined to make the
ascent.

" We started next morning at half-past two or three.
We were the third party to leave the cabin, but,
making good speed over the first stage of the ascent,
we reached the second when the others were break-
fasting there, and then resumed the climb. Mr
Mercer, with his party, followed by the Dutch party,
started shortly before us. We met them about a
quarter-past eight returning from the top. They
said that they had been there half an hour, and that
there was no view. We passed them, followed by the
Italians, and reached the summit about a quarter to
nine. The ascent, though toilsome, had not ex-
hausted us in the least. Both Mr Borckhardt and
myself were quite fresh, although we had made the
summit before the Italians, who started together with
us from the second hut Had the weather remained
favourable, we could have made the descent with
ease.1

" Even while we were on the summit I felt hail
begin to fall, and before we were five minutes on our

1 Here the whole contention that the party was a competent
one falls to the ground. No one without a reserve of strength
and skill to meet possible bad weather should embark on an
important ascent. Fair-weather guides and climbers should
keep to easy excursions.

271

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

way down it was hailing heavily. It was a fine hailt
and inches of it fell in a very short time, and the
track was obliterated. We pressed steadily down-
wards, followed by the Italians, nor did it occur to me
at that time that there was any danger. We got
past the ropes and chains safely, and reached the
snowy slope on the shoulder. At this point we were
leading. But as the Italians had three guides, and
we only two, we changed places, so that their third
guide could lead. They climbed down the slope,
cutting steps for their feet in the ice. We trod
closely after the Italians, but the snow and hail filled
up the holes so rapidly, that, in order to make a safe
descent, our guides had to recut the steps. This
took much time — as much as two hours I should
say — and every hour the snow was getting deeper.
At last we got down the snow-slope on to the steep
rocks below. The Italians were still in front of us,
and we all kept on steadily descending. We were
still in good spirits, nor did we feel any doubt that
we should reach the bottom. Our first alarm was
occasioned by the Italians losing their way. They
found their progress barred by precipitous rocks, and
their guides came back to ours to consult as to the
road. Our guides insisted that the path lay down

the side of a steep couloir. Their guides demurred ;

272

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

but after going down some ten feet, they cried out
that our guides were right, and they went on — we
followed. By this time it was getting dark. The
hail continued increasing. We began to get alarmed.
It seemed impossible to make our way to the cabin
that night. We had turned to the right after leaving
the couloir, crossed some slippery rocks, and after a
short descent turned to the left and came to the edge
of the precipice where Mosely fell, where there was
some very slight shelter afforded by an overhanging
rock, and there we prepared to pass the night, seeing
that all further progress was hopeless. We were
covered with ice. The night was dark. The air was
filled with hail. We were too cold to eat. The
Italians were about an hour below us on the moun-
tain side. We could hear their voices and exchanged
shouts. Excepting them, we were thousands of feet
above any other human being. I found that while
Borckhardt had emptied his brandy-flask, mine was
full. I gave him half of mine. That lasted us
through the night. We did not try the wine till the
morning, and then we found that it was frozen solid.
Never have I had a more awful experience than
that desolate night on the Matterhorn. We were

chilled to the bone, and too exhausted to stand,
s 273

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

The wind rose, and each gust drove the hail into our
faces, cutting us like a knife. Our guides did every-
thing that man could do to save us. Aufdemblatten
did his best to make us believe that there was no
danger. * Only keep yourselves warm ; keep moving ;
and we shall go down all right to-morrow, when the
sun rises.' ' It is of no use,' I replied ; ' we shall die
here ! ' They chafed our limbs, and did their best to
make us stand up ; but it was in vain. I felt angry
at their interference. Why could they not leave us
alone to die ? I remember striking wildly but feebly
at my guide as he insisted on rubbing me. Every
movement gave me such agony, I was racked with
pain, especially in my back and loins — pain so in-
tense as to make me cry out. The guides had
fastened the rope round the rock to hold on by,
while they jumped to keep up the circulation of the
blood. They brought us to it, and made us jump
twice or thrice. Move we could not ; we lay back
prostrate on the snow and ice, while the guides
varied their jumping by rubbing our limbs and en-
deavouring to make us move our arms and legs.
They were getting feebler and feebler. Borckhardt
and I, as soon as we were fully convinced that death

was imminent for us, did our best to persuade our

274

•ft

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

guides to leave us where we lay and make their way
down the hill. They were married men with families.
To save us was impossible ; they might at least save
themselves. We begged them to consider their wives
and children and to go. This was at the beginning of
the night. They refused. They would rather die with
us, they said ; they would remain and do their best.

" Borckhardt and I talked a little as men might do
who are at the point of death. He bore without
complaining pain that made me cry out from time to
time. We both left directions with the guides that
we were to be buried at Zermatt. Borckhardt spoke
of his friends and his family affairs, facing his death
with manly resignation and composure. As the night
wore on I became weaker and weaker. I could not
even make the effort necessary to flick the snow off
my companion's face. By degrees the guides began
to lose hope. The cold was so intense, we crouched
together for warmth. They lay beside us to try
and impart some heat. It was in vain. ' We shall
die ! ' ' We are lost ! ' ' Yes,' said Aufdemblatten,
1 very likely we shall.' He was so weak, poor fellow,
he could hardly keep his feet ; but still he tried to
keep me moving. It was a relief not to be touched.

I longed for death, but death would not come.

275

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

" Towards half-past two on Wednesday morning —
so we reckoned, for all our watches had stopped with
the cold — the snow ceased, and the air became clear.
It had been snowing or hailing without intermission
for eighteen hours. It was very dark below, but
above all was clear, although the wind still blew.
When the sun rose, we saw just a gleam of light.
Then a dark cloud came from the hollow below, and
our hopes went out. * Oh, if only the sun would
come out ! ' we said to each other, I do not know
how many times. But it did not, and instead of the
sun came the snow once more. Towards seven, as
near as I can make it, a desperate attempt was made
to get us to walk. The guides took Borckhardt, and
between them propped him on his feet and made him
stagger on a few steps. They failed to keep him mov-
ing more than a step or two. The moment they let
go he dropped. They repeated the same with me.
Neither could I stand. I remember four distinct
times they drove us forward, only to see us drop
helpless after each step. It was evidently no use.
Borckhardt had joined again with me in repeatedly
urging the guides to leave us and to save themselves.
They had refused, and continued to do all that their

failing strength allowed to protect us from the bitter

276

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

cold. As the morning wore on, my friend, who
during the night had been much more composed
and tranquil than I, began to grow perceptibly
weaker. We were quite resigned to die, and had,
in fact, lost all hope. We had been on the moun-
tain from about 3 A.M. on Tuesday to I P.M. on
Wednesday — thirty-four hours in all. Eighteen of
these were spent in a blinding snowstorm, and we
had hardly tasted food since we left the summit at
nine on the Tuesday morning. At length (about one)
we heard shouts far down the mountain. The guides
said they probably proceeded from a search party
sent out to save us. I again urged the guides to go
down by themselves to meet the searchers, and to
hurry them up. This they refused to do unless I
accompanied them. Borckhardt was at this time too
much exhausted to stand upright, and was lying in
a helpless condition. The guides, although com-
pletely worn out, wished to attempt the descent with
me, and they considered that by so doing we should
be able to indicate to the searchers the precise spot
where my friend lay, and to hasten their efforts to
reach him with stimulants. Since early morning the
snow had ceased falling. We began the descent, and

at first I required much assistance from the guides,

277

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

but by degrees became better able to move, and the
hope of socn procuring help from the approaching
party for my poor friend sustained us. After a most
laborious descent of about an hour and a half, we
reached the first members of the rescue party, and
directed them to where Borckhardt lay, requesting
them to proceed there with all haste, and, after giving
him stimulants, to bring him down to the lower hut
in whatever condition they found him. We went on
to the hut to await his arrival, meeting on the way
Mr King, of the English Alpine Club, with his
guides, who were hurrying up with warm clothing.
A few hours later we heard the terrible news that
the relief party had found him dead."

A letter to The Times, written by Mr (now Sir
Henry Seymour) King comments as follows on this,
deplorable accident. It is endorsed by all the mem-
bers of the Alpine Club then at Zermatt. After
describing the circumstances of the ascent, the writer
continues : " Instead of staying all together, as more
experienced guides would have done, and keeping
Mr Borckhardt warm and awake until help came,
they determined at about I P.M. to leave him alone
on the mountain. According to their account, the
snow had ceased and the sun had begun to shine

2/8

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

when they left him. At that moment a relief party
was not far off, as the guides must have known.
They heard the shouts of the relief party soon after
leaving Mr Borckhardt, and there was, as far as I
can see, no pressing reason for their departure.
They reached the lower hut at about 5 P.M., and
at about the same time a rescue party from Zermatt,
which had met them descending, reached Mr Borck-
hardt, and found him dead, stiff, and quite cold, and
partly covered with freshly-fallen snow. No doubt
he had succumbed to drowsiness soon after he was
left.

" The moral of this most lamentable event is plain.
The Matterhorn is not a mountain to be played with ;
it is not a peak which men ought to attempt until they
have had some experience of climbing. Above all, it
is not a peak which should ever be attempted except
with thoroughly competent guides. In a snowstorm
no member of a party should ever be left behind and
alone. He will almost certainly fall into a sleep,
from which it is notorious that he will never awake.
If he will not walk, he must be carried. If he sits
down, he must be made to get up. Guides have to
do this not unfrequently. A stronger and more

experienced party would undoubtedly have reached

279

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

Zermatt without misfortune. In fact, one party
which was on the mountain on the same day did
reach Zermatt in good time."

It is fitting that this short, and necessarily incom-
plete, account of the conquest of the Matterhorn, and
events occurring subsequently on it, should conclude
with the recital of a magnificent act of heroism per-
formed by Jean-Antoine Carrel, whose name, more
than that of any other guide, is associated with the
history of the peak. No more striking instance of
the devotion of a guide to his employers could be
chosen to bring these true tales of the hills to an
appropriate end.

I take the account from Scrambles Among the Alps.

" When telegrams came in, at the beginning of
September 1890, stating that Jean-Antoine Carrel
had died from fatigue on the south side of the
Matterhorn, those who knew the man scarcely
credited the report. It was not likely that this tough
and hardy mountaineer would die from fatigue any-
where, still less that he would succumb upon 'his
own mountain.' But it was true. Jean-Antoine
perished from the combined effects of cold, hunger,
and fatigue, upon his own side of his own mountain,

almost within sight of his own home. He started on

280

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

the 2 3rd of August from Breuil, with an Italian
gentleman and Charles Gorret (brother of the Abbe"
Gorret), with the intention of crossing the Matterhorn
in one day. The weather at the time of their
departure was the very best, and it changed in the
course of the day to the very worst. They were
shut up in the cabane at the foot of the Great Tower
during the 24th, with scarcely any food, and on the
25th retreated to Breuil. Although Jean-Antoine
(upon whom, as leading guide, the chief labour and
responsibility naturally devolved) ultimately suc-
ceeded in getting his party safely off the mountain,
he himself was so overcome by fatigue, cold, and
want of food, that he died on the spot.

Jean-Antoine Carrel entered his sixty-second year
in January iQOi,1 and was in the field throughout the
summer. On 2ist August, having just returned from
an ascent of Mont Blanc, he was engaged at Cour-
mayeur by Signor Leone Sinigaglia, of Turin, for an
ascent of the Matterhorn. He proceeded to the Val
Tournanche, and on the 23rd set out with him and
Charles Gorret, for the last time, to ascend his own

mountain by his own route. A long and clear
1 The exact date of his birth does not seem to be known.
He was christened at the Church of St Antoine, Val Tour-
nanche, on I7th January 1829.

28l

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

account of what happened was communicated by
Signor Sinigaglia to the Italian Alpine Club, and
from this the following relation is condensed :

" We started for the Cervin at 2.15 A.M. on the 23rd,
in splendid weather, with the intention of descending
the same night to the hut at the Hornli on the Swiss
side. We proceeded pretty well, but the glaze of
ice on the rocks near the Col du Lion retarded our
march somewhat, and when we arrived at the hut
at the foot of the Great Tower, prudence counselled
the postponement of the ascent until the next day,
for the sky was becoming overcast. We decided
upon this, and stopped.

" Here I ought to mention that both I and Gorret
noticed with uneasiness that Carrel showed signs of
fatigue upon leaving the Col du Lion. I attributed
this to temporary weakness. As soon as we reached
the hut he lay down and slept profoundly for two
hours, and awoke much restored. In the meantime
the weather was rapidly changing. Storm clouds
coming from the direction of Mont Blanc hung over
the Dent d'H&rens, but we regarded them as tran-
sitory, and trusted to the north wind, which was still
continuing to blow. Meanwhile, three of the Maquig-

nazs and Edward Bich, whom we found at the hutv

282

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

returned from looking after the ropes, started down-
wards for Breuil, at parting wishing us a happy
ascent, and holding out hopes of a splendid day for
the morrow.

" But, after their departure, the weather grew worse
very rapidly ; the wind changed, and towards evening
there broke upon us a most violent hurricane of hail
and snow, accompanied by frequent flashes of light-
ning. The air was so charged with electricity that for
two consecutive hours in the night one could see in
the hut as in broad daylight. The storm continued
to rage all night, and the day and night following,
continuously, with incredible violence. The tem-
perature in the hut fell to 3 degrees.

" The situation was becoming somewhat alarming,
for the provisions were getting low, and we had
already begun to use the seats of the hut as firewood.
The rocks were in an extremely bad state, and we
were afraid that if we stopped longer, and the storm
continued, we should be blocked up in the hut for
several days. This being the state of affairs, it was
decided among the guides that if the wind should
abate we should descend on the following morning ;
and, as the wind did abate somewhat, on the morning
of the 25th (the weather, however, still remaining

283

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

very bad) it was unanimously settled to make a
retreat.

" At 9 A.M. we left the hut. I will not speak of the
difficulties and dangers in descending the arete to the
Col du Lion, which we reached at 2.30 P.M. The
ropes were half frozen, the rocks were covered with a
glaze of ice, and fresh snow hid all points of support.
Some spots were really as bad as could be, and I owe
much to the prudence and coolness of the two guides
that we got over them without mishap.

" At the Col du Lion, where we hoped the wind
would moderate, a dreadful hurricane recommenced,
and in crossing the snowy passages we were nearly
suffocated by the wind and snow which attacked us on
all sides.1 Through the loss of a glove, Gorret, half
an hour after leaving the hut, had already got a hand
frost-bitten. The cold was terrible here. Every
moment we had to remove the ice from our eyes, and
it was with the utmost difficulty that we could speak
so as to understand one another.

"Nevertheless, Carrel continued to direct the
descent in a most admirable manner, with a coolness,

1 Signer Peraldo, the innkeeper at Breuil, stated that a relief
party was in readiness during the whole of 25th August (the day
on which the descent was made), and was prevented from
starting by the violence of the tempest.

284

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

ability, and energy above all praise. I was delighted
to see the change, and Gorret assisted him splendidly.
This part of the descent presented unexpected diffi-
culties, and at several points great dangers, the more
so because the tourmente prevented Carrel from being
sure of the right direction, in spite of his consummate
knowledge of the Matterhorn. At 1 1 P.M (or there-
abouts, it was impossible to look at our watches, as
all our clothes were half frozen) we were still toiling
down the rocks. The guides sometimes asked each
other where they were ; then we went forward again—
to stop, indeed, would have been impossible. Carrel
at last, by marvellous instinct, discovered the passage
up which we had come, and in a sort of grotto we
stopped a minute to take some brandy.

" While crossing some snow we saw Carrel slacken
his pace, and then fall back two or three times to the
ground. Gorret asked him what was the matter, and
he said ' nothing,' but he went on with difficulty.
Attributing this to fatigue through the excessive
toil, Gorret put himself at the head of the caravan,
and Carrel, after the change, seemed better, and
walked well, though with more circumspection than
usual. From this place a short and steep passage
takes one down to the pastures, where there is

285

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

safety. Gorret descended first, and I after him.
We were nearly at the bottom when I felt the rope
pulled. We stopped, awkwardly placed as we
were, and cried out to Carrel several times to
come down, but we received no answer. Alarmed,
we went up a little way, and heard him say, in a faint
voice, ' Come up and fetch me ; I have no strength
left'

" We went up and found that he was lying with his
stomach to the ground, holding on to a rock, in a
semi-conscious state, and unable to get up or to move
a step. With extreme difficulty we carried him to a
safe place, and asked him what was the matter. His
only answer was, * I know no longer where I am.'
His hands were getting colder and colder, his speech
weaker and more broken, and his body more still.
We did all we could for him, putting with great diffi-
culty the rest of the cognac into his mouth. He said
something, and appeared to revive, but this did not
last long. We tried rubbing him with snow, and
shaking him, and calling to him continually, but he
could only answer with moans.

"We tried to lift him, but it was impossible — he
was getting stiff. We stooped down, and asked in

his ear if he wished to commend his soul to God.

286

TRAGEDIES ON THE MATTERHORN

With a last effort he answered ' Yes,' and then fell on
his back, dead, upon the snow.

" Such was the end of Jean-Antoine Carrel — a man
who was possessed with a pure and genuine love of
mountains ; a man of originality and resource,
courage and determination, who delighted in ex-
ploration. His special qualities marked him out as
a fit person to take part in new enterprises, and I
preferred him to all others as a companion and
assistant upon my journey amongst the Great Andes
of the Equator. Going to a new country, on a new
continent, he encountered much that was strange and
unforeseen ; yet when he turned his face homewards
he had the satisfaction of knowing that he left no
failures behind him.1 After parting at Guayaquil in
1880 we did not meet again. In his latter years, I
am told, he showed signs of age, and from informa-
tion which has been communicated to me it is clear
that he had arrived at a time when it would have
been prudent to retire — if he could have done so. It
was not in his nature to spare himself, and he worked
to the very last. The manner of his death strikes a
chord in hearts he never knew. He recognised to the
fullest extent the duties of his position, and in the

1 See Travels amongst the Great Andes of the Equator •, 1892.

287

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

closing act of his life set a brilliant example of
fidelity and devotion. For it cannot be doubted
that, enfeebled as he was, he could have saved him-
self had he given his attention to self-preservation.
He took a nobler course ; and, accepting his responsi-
bility, devoted his whole soul to the welfare of his
comrades, until, utterly exhausted, he fell staggering
on the snow. He was already dying. Life was
flickering, yet the brave spirit said 'It is nothing?
They placed him in the rear to ease his work. He
was no longer able even to support himself; he
dropped to the ground, and in a few minutes
expired."1

1 Signer Sinigaglia wrote a letter to a friend, from which I am
permitted to quote : " I don't try to tell you of my intense pain
for Carrel's death. He fell after having saved me, and no
guide could have done more than he did." Charles Gorret,
through his brother the Abbe, wrote to me that he entirely
endorsed what had been said by Signor Sinigaglia, and added,
" We would have given our own lives to have saved his."

Jean-Antoine died at the foot of " the little Staircase." On
the 26th of August his body was brought to Breuil, and upon
29th it was interred at Valtournanche. At the beginning of
July 1893 an iron cross was placed on the spot where he
expired at the expense of Signor Sinigaglia, who went in
person, along with Charles Gorret, to superintend its erection.

288

CHAPTER XXI

THE WHOLE DUTY OF THE CLIMBER — ALPINE
DISTRESS SIGNALS

T CANNOT bring this book to a more fitting
end than by quoting the closing words of a
famous article in The Alpine Journal by Mr C. E.
Mathews entitled "The Alpine Obituary." It was
written twenty years ago, but every season it be-
comes if possible more true. May all who go
amongst the mountains lay it to heart !

" Mountaineering is extremely dangerous in the
case of incapable, of imprudent, of thoughtless
men. But I venture to state that of all the acci-
dents in our sad obituary, there is hardly one
which need have happened ; there is hardly one
which could not have been easily prevented by proper
caution and proper care. Men get careless and too
confident. This does not matter or the other does not
matter. The fact is, that everything matters ; pre-
cautions should be not only ample but excessive.

4 The little more, and how much it is,
And the little less and what worlds away.'
T 289

TRUE TALES OF MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE

" Mountainteering is not dangerous, provided that
the climber knows his business and takes the
necessary precautions — all within his own control —
to make danger impossible. The prudent climber
will recollect what he owes to his family and to
his friends. He will also recollect that he owes
something to the Alps, and will scorn to bring
them into disrepute. He will not go on a glacier
without a rope. He will not climb alone, or with
a single companion. He will treat a great moun-
tain with the respect it deserves, and not try to
rush a dangerous peak with inadequate guiding
power. He will turn his back steadfastly upon
mist and storm. He will not go where avalanches
are in the habit of falling after fresh snow, or
wander about beneath an overhanging glacier in
the heat of a summer afternoon. Above all, if
he loves the mountains for their own sake, for the
lessons they can teach and the happiness they can
bring, he will do nothing that can discredit his
manly pursuit or bring down the ridicule of the
undiscerning upon the noblest pastime in the world."

290

ALPINE DISTRESS SIGNALS

No book on climbing should be issued without a.
reminder to its readers that tourists (who may need it
even oftener than mountaineers) have a means ready
to hand by which help can be signalled for if they
are in difficulties. That in many cases a signal
might not be seen is no reason for neglecting to learn
and use the simple code given below and recom-
mended by the Alpine Club. It has now been
adopted by all societies of climbers.

The signal is the repetition of a sound, a wave of
a flag, or a flash of a lantern at regular intervals at
the rate of six signals per minute, followed by a
pause of a minute, and then repeated every alternate
minute. The reply is the same, except that three
and not six signals are made in a minute. The
regular minute's interval is essential to the clearness
of the code.

291

GLOSSARY AND INDEX

GLOSSARY.

ALP . . -A summer pasture.

AR£TE . . The crest of a ridge. Sometimes spoken
of as a knife-edge, if very narrow.

BERGSCHRUND . A crevasse forming between the snow still
clinging to the face of a peak, and that
which has broken away from it.

COL . .A pass between two peaks.

COULOIR . . A gully rilled with snow or stones.

GRAT . . . The same as arete.

JOCH . . . The same as col.

KAMM . . The same as arete.

MORAINE . . See chapter on glaciers, page 7.

MOULIN . . See chapter on glaciers, page 7.

NEV£ . . See chapter on glaciers, page 7.

PITZ . . . An Engadine name for a peak.

SCHRUND . . A crevasse.

S£RAC . . A cube of iice, formed by intersecting
crevasses where a glacier is very steep.
Called thus after a sort of Chamonix
cheese, which it is said to resemble.

INDEX

ALBULA PASS, 20

Aletsch glacier, 12, 142

Aimer, Christian, 29, 50, 51, 71,

126, 134

Aimer, Ulrich, 42
Altels, Ice-avalanche of the, 78
Anderegg, Jacob, 162
Anderegg, Melchior, 24, 50, 113,

162

d'Angeville, Mademoiselle, 204
Ardon, 59

Arkwright, Henry, 98
Aufdemblatten, Peter, 269
Avalanches, different kinds of, 15

BALMAT, 52

Barnes, Mr G. S., 32

Bean, Mr, 108

Bennen, 59, 113, 252

Bich, J. B., 262

Bionnassay, Aiguille de, 169

Birkbeck, Mr, 113

Blanc, Mont, 3, 92, 107, 162, 203

Bohren, 52

Boissonnet, Monsieur, 59

Borchart, Dr, 150

Borckhardt, F. C, 269

Bossons, Glacier des, 9

Breil, 253

Brenva Glacier, Ascent of Mont

Blanc by, 162
Burckhardt, Herr F., 147
Burgener, Alexander, 226

CARRE, GLACIER, 172

Carrel, J. A., 252, 259, 261, death

of, 280

Coolidge, Rev. W. A. B., 30, 171
Couttet, Sylvain, 89, 99, 109
Croda Grande, feat of endurance on,

48
Croz, Michel, 126, 134, 252

DAVIES, JOHN, 269
Dent, Clinton, 58, 221
Douglas, Lord Francis, 45, 259
Distress Signals, Alpine, 291
Dru, Aiguille du, 221

EIGERJOCH, 208

FALKNER, MONSIEUR DE, 269
Fohn Wind, Note on the, 80

297

INDEX

GABELHORN, OBER, 42, 45

Gardiner, Mr, 170

Garwood, Mr Edmund, 194

Glacier tables, 1 1

Gorret, Charles, 281

Gosaldo, 48

Gosset, Mr Philip, 59

Grass, Hans and Christian, 44

Greenland, Glaciers of, 7

Guntner, Dr, 33

HADOW, Mr, 260
Hamel, Dr Joseph, 92
Hartley, Mr Walker, 226
Haut-de-Cry, 59
Hinchliff, MrT. W., 122
Hudson, Rev. C, 113, 269

IMBODEN, JOSEPH, 5, 30, 35,

40,84
Imboden, Roman, 32, 84, 194

38,

TUNGFRAU, 147

KING, Sir H. Seymour, 278
Klimmer, 150
Kronig, F., 269

LAMMER, Herr, 72
Lauener, 41, 52, 66, 208
Longman, W., 142
Lorria, Herr, 72

298

M'CORKINDALE, Mr, loS
Mammoth, 105
Maquignaz, J. P. and D., 269
Martin, Jean, 154
Mather, Mr, 113
Mathews, Mr C. E., 289
Mathews, Messrs, 208
Matterhorn, 23, 72, 250
Maurer, Andreas, 46, 226
Maurer, Kaspar, 239
Meije, 170
Mercer, Mr, 269
Miage, Col. de, 114
Morning, Pass, 126
Moore, Mr, 126, 134, 162
Moraines, 10
Moser, 269

N
NASSE, Herr, 150

PALU, Piz, 44, 150
Paradis, Maria, 203
Penhall, Mr, 72
Perren, 113

Pigeon, The Misses, 153
Pilatte, Col. de, 134
Pilkington, Messrs, 170
Plan, Aiguille du, 46

RANDALL, Mr, 108

Rey, Emile, 46

Reynaud, Monsieur, 135

Richardson, Miss K., 169

Riva, Valley Susa, 18

Rochat, Mademoiselle E. de, 169

INDEX

SAAS, Prattigau, 17
Schallihorn, 83
Schnitzler, 150
Schuster, Oscar, 48
Scerscen, Piz, 194
Sesia, Joch, 153
Siuigaglia, Leone, 281
Stephen, Sir Leslie, 113, 208
Stratton, Miss, 206

TAUGWALD, Peter, 269
Taugwalder, 259

Trift Pass, 112

Tuckett, Mr F. F., 66, 113

WAINWRIGHT, Mrs and Dr, 44

Walker, Mr, 50, 134, 162

Wetterhorn, 51

Wieland, 194

Wills, Chief Justice, 51

Whymper, Mr C, 126, 134, 250

ZECCHINI, G., 48

Of TH£

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