Alpine notes & [and] the climbing foot

Alpine Notes

and

The Clim bing Foot

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S e c t i o n M o n t e - R o s a

A L P I N E N O T E S A N D T H E C L IM B IN G F O O T

A LO IS K A L B E R M A T T E N . X A V ER IM S E N G .

Alpine Notes

&

T h e Climbing Foot

A'HU.AA

Cambridge : Macmillan & Bowes

1896

By

G eorge W h e r r y

MA., M .C .C antab., F.R .C .S .

Surgeon to Addenbrooke's Hospital, Cambridge ; University Lecturer in Surgery ; Member of the Alpine Club

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T h e following pages were mostly written with pencil in the railway train when the w riter was returning from Alpine holidays.

T h e letters were published in the Cambridge

Chronicle as a record of the m ountaineering season, and extend over the past five years.

A few serious rem arks on the climbing foot, and on accidents, are added separately, and little attem pt has been made to re­

touch these yearly letters. Being “ touched

for the evil ” has been known, according to the court wags, to kill a feeble son of

Tom E sm ond’s. T h ere being little but

touch which expelled the evil from the

patient was a fatal performance. F earin g

it m ight prove so for my poor tracts, they remain much as they were originally printed. Only of this I feel assured, that similar notes, put into my hands when I began climbing, would have been read by me with avidity.

If one of these papers be found now and then somewhat technical, and to savour of another craft, more useful even than m ountaineering, th at possible usefulness m ust be my excuse for these digressions.

T h e series of pictures to illustrate the

chapter on the climbing foot I hope

will prove of interest. Mr. Stearn, the

photographer, of Bridge Street, Cambridge, häs caught the expression in the infant’s foot, which I kept in position with my finger, and the rem arkable adaptation of the tiny infant’s foot for climbing and all-four

progression is very well shown ; also those by Captain A bney of the Swiss guides have come out exceedingly well.

T hese notes may be found acceptable to any novitiate, who, after m aking his first climb, can feel what M eredith’s hero in

The A m azing Marriage so well expresses

to his comrade :

“ I shall never forget the walk we’ve had. I have to thank you for the noblest of plea­

sures. Y ou’ve taught me— well, a thousand

things ; the things money can’t buy. W h at mornings they were ! and the dead-tired

nig h ts! U n d er the rock, and up to see

the snowy peak pink in a gap of thick

mist. You were right : it made a crim­

soning colour shine like a new idea. U p

in those mountains one walks with the

divinities, you said. It’s perfectly true. I

shall rem em ber I did. I have a treasure

your ideas. T h e life we lead down

there is hoggish. You have chosen the

right.”

A small m atter will suggest pleasant memories of m ountaineering to those (harm ­ less degenerates, according to M ax N ordau) who see the M er de Glace in every frozen puddle, as a child sees pictures in the fire.

M any a man helping a dish of D evonshire ju n k et on his table, thinking of F orbes’s viscous theory, watches for the place oppo­ site the first gap made by the spoon, where in the ju n k et there forms a chasm parallel with the side, still leaving a fringe or shelf attached to the edge of the dish— for him

at the moment th at crack is a bergschrund

— there he finds at one point a bridge con­ venient for crossing, at another an impossible yawning crevasse.

for he can enjoy the plainest junket, and though he finds recorded few new things, yet pleasant thoughts will be suggested of th e past, and infinite possibilities for the

future.

CONTENTS An Al p i n e Le t t e r, 1 8 9 5 , - - - I Mo u n t a i n e e r i n g i n Da u p h i n e, i8 9 4 , - - - 19 Sw i t z e r l a n d a n d Sa v o y i n 1893, - - - 42 An Al p i n e Le t t e r, 1892, - - - - 67 A Mo n t h u p o n t h e Mo u n t a i n s, 1891, - - - 93 On t h e Cl i m b i n g Fo o t, - - .1 1 9 On Ac c i d e n t s, - - - 145 In d e x, ...

L IS T OF IL L U S T R A T IO N S G r o u p o f C l i m b e r s , - Frontispiece “ T h e N e w R o u t e , ” ... Vignette A Re g i m e n t o f La r c h e s a d v a n c i n g o n Ve t e r a n Pi n e s, ... 6 Me l c h i o r An d e r e g g, 1 8 9 5 , ... 16 Sk e t c h Ma p o f t h e Hi g h e s t Po i n t o f t h e Da u p h i n f. , ... 20 Le s Ec r i n s f r o m t h e Gl a c i e r Bl a n c, 26 Gr o u p o f Cl i m b e r s, ...32 La Me i j e f r o m t h e Va l d e s Et a n ç o n s, 3 6 Ic e b e r g s s t r a n d e d o n t h e b e d o f t h e Ma r j e l e n Se e, - - - 8 0 Ol d St o n e Br i d g e a t Sa a s Fé e, - - - 108

Fo o t o f a n In f a n t Fi v e We e k s Ol d, s h o w i n g t h e In s t e p t o u c h i n g t h e Sh i n o n s l i g h t PRESSU RE OF T H E F IN G E R , - - - 122 Fo o t o f a n In f a n t Fi v e We e k s Ol d, t o u c h e d w i t h t h e Fi n g e r t o s h o w t h e An g l e o f t h e Fo o t w i t h t h e Le g a n d t h e Pr e­ h e n s i l e To e s, ... 124 Fo o t o f a n In f a n t Fi v e We e k s Ol d. Th e In s t e p is m a d e t o t o u c h t h e Sh i n b y SLIGHT PRESSU RE OF T H E F IN G E R , - - 126 Fo o t o f a n In f a n t n e a r l y a Ye a r Ol d -Fi r s t Po s i t i o n, - - - 128 Se c o n d Po s i t i o n, ... 130 Gu i d e’s Fo o t i n Cl i m b i n g Po s i t i o n a g a i n s t t h e Sh o e h o r n Ro c k a t Ze r m a t t ( Al o i s Ka l b e r m a t t e n) , ... 134 D o . ( P e t e r P e r r e n ) , 136 Gu i d e’s Fo o t, t o s h o w t h e An g l e m a d e b y t h e Fo o t w i t h t h e Le g w i t h o u tpr e s s u r e, - 138 D o ., A n o t h e r P o s i t i o n , - - - - 140 Fo o t o f Ex p e r i e n c e d Am a t e u r, - - - 143 Ac t o f Si t t i n g Do w n, u s i n g o n l y On e Li m b— Fi r s t Po s i t i o n, 142 Se c o n d Po s i t i o n, - - - 144

A L P I N E N O T E S

Au Alpine Eettcr

1895

T ra in in g a t K an d ersteg — C lim bing the south face of the B irren h o rn —T h e viper’s c a st—T h e larches replacing th e p in es—T h e ascen t of th e D oldenhorn-—T h e P eters- g ra t—T h e a scen t of th e B ietschhorn—A n interesting an n iv ersary ascen t— A scent of M onte R o sa by th e Lys P a s s — Cold feet on th e glacier—T h e F u rg g en Jo c h — A ccident to a g u id e—T ra v e rse o f th e M a tte rh o rn — N a k e d feet of guides p h o to g rap h ed in clim bing position —T h e T rav erse of the C harm oz— F arew ell to M elchior — Lines to m y lantern.

E v e r y one should try to be in good training

once a year, and experience has confirmed my opinion that K andersteg, in the Bernese O berland, is a good place to train for a

climbing holiday. T h ere the expeditions

serious. T h e enervating effect of w hat is ironically called carriage exercise, which only exercises the carriage, and does nothing for the man inside, must be gradually counteracted by hard work in fine air. Also it must be rem em bered that as one grows older, training is more difficult, and too often hurried in the process.

W ith a friend of form er years, our first

little climb up the Tschingellochtighorn

resulted in a ducking, and for m yself it must be confessed that the bodily fatigue of the first tug up steep slopes hardly perm its of the usual interests and enjoy­

ments of the way. N ow it is rather sad

to reflect upon those two black sluggish lizards th at I was too lazy to collect, and th at a fine crop of yellow G entians were

merely noticed w ithout pleasure. Climbing

the Tschingellochtigrat— a yellow Gentian it was th at : and very little more.

T H E V I P E R ’S C A ST 3 E v ery struggle m akes the next more easy— at first it is a purgatory for the pie­ crust of the past year, then the later labour is all delight.

Mr. M., th at veteran climber, hailed me on my arrival at K an d ersteg with a shout : with him was his son, already at sixteen well experienced in m ountain craft, and

the well-beloved M elchior A nderegg. Mr.

M. says “ a man is always at his best on the A lps,” and surely this is true ; his body is most freed from disorder, and his mind from cant, as he climbs away from all the worries of life.

W e had an expedition together, a pretty climb up the steep south face of the Birrenhorn ; on our way up to the rock we

killed an adder. N ear this spot last year

I found a perfect viper’s cast (eye-covers

and lips also quite entire). It is now in

G ilbert W hite is correct in his statem ent th at the snake’s cast is turned completely

inside out. H ere too are a g reat num ­

ber of large white snails like escargots — “ O helix infelix tui quam miseresco sine sheetis aut blankets dorm ientis al fresco.”

As my friend had made with me this same ascent last year, we were allowed to lead the way up, and had a nice scramble, notes of which are to be found in the

A lpine Journal, and seen on a later page. T his excursion gives a good view of the forests of the two valleys seen from many points above the K ander stream and

Oeschinen See. N o one can fail to note,

when once attention is aroused to it, how the larch is gaining ground in the struggle

for existence, and the pine is rapidly

diminishing. Rarely does one see a young

pictur-L A R C H E S A N D P I N E S 5

esque ruins. In the A rolla valley the same

observation may be made, and there are decaying stum ps of trees, 200 or 300 years old, rem aining high up, near the glaciers,

where once a forest stood. A great ad ­

vantage the larch has in being a deciduous tree, shedding its thin and spiky leaves every winter, and riding out the storm with bare poles, when the pine holds on its evergreen branches a g reat w eight of snow, and presents a large surface for the tem pest to burst upon.

W hen these pine trees stand together

collecting snow, more opportunities for

avalanches occur, and ruin is scattered on

the forest beneath. T h e lovely green tints

of the sprouting larches in Spring will bring us some compensation if the pines are to be lost.

A ccording to Mr. Sowerby, in his Forest

T H E D O L D E N H O R N 7 crystalline rocks, while the pines prefer the limestone.

S tarting from the H otel at half-past one in the morning, we had a roasting hot day on that beautiful snow-peak, the Doldenhorn- W ith H ari as guide, we followed a large swinging oil-lamp, instead of the usual lantern, and toiled up through jungle, to find the snow all fresh and soft ; lovely to look upon, but wearisome to travel up ;

a long ice-slope at the top gave rest to

all except our leader, who had to cut

steps to the final corniced ridge ; there we held him with the rope in leaning over to ju d g e w hether we m ight safely sit down

upon the summit.

O n our departure from K andersteg, a lady and her husband joined us in a

delightful walk over the Petersgrat. W e

rested a night at the Seiden châlets in

the place, and, starting the next morning early, had an easy day over that beautiful

glacier pass, arriving at Ried in the

Lötschen T hai in a broiling sun. Nothing-

more was then known of those two poor fellows who went for their last climb a few weeks before, left the little inn and never returned.

My companion had come with me to ascend the Bietschhorn, and we found it a first-rate climb, requiring continual care because of the rotten state of the rock

arête. E v ery stone has to be tested before

the w eight is allowed to rest upon it, and the m ovem ents over the ridge m ust be lovingly and embracingly made w ithout

je rk or hurry. In A lpine slang the m oun­

tain is badly in need of repair. W e were

on the summit during an earthquake, of which we felt nothing, though at Zerm att there w rs considerable alarm, and a climber

AN A N N IV E R S A R Y A S C E N T 9 on the R othhorn is reported to have had to sit tig h t as though on a bucking horse !

N ex t day we walked down to the R hone valley, and came to Zerm att with our guides, Alois K alberm atten and P eter

Perren. H ere again Mr. M. was actively

at work with Melchior, and as he came down from M onte Rosa, he told me how pleased he was to have made an anniversary ascent of a mountain he had climbed forty years ago !

W e made for the highest point of M onte. Rosa by starting from the hut by lantern- light, and going up the glacier as if to cross the Lys Joch, then taking a rock arête to the summit, we descended by the usual snowy route to the C o rn er glacier,

and so back to Zerm att. My feet had

been very cold on the glacier ; the mass of nails carried, unless the soles of the boots be very thick, chills the feet as the

iron gets cold upon the ice, and in this respect there is more to say for M ummery spikes, which carry the feet slightly off

the ice. F. A ndenm atten, of Zerm att, made

such a successful im provem ent in clumping my boots, that he obtained an order for another pair on the spot, and I believe him to be an artist of the first rank for climbing boots.

O n our next clirflb, in crossing the Furggen Joch to reach the Italian hut •above the Col du Lion, on the Italian side of the M atterhorn, we had an awkward

adventure. Perren was helping a porter,

who carried up wood for us, over the berg- schrund, and was leaning forwards to reach him with his axe, when down came a stone from above— “ a bolt from the b lu e ”

and struck poor Perren on the head. T h e

blood ran over his face and gave him a

A C C I D E N T O N T H E M A T T E R H O R N n

ordinary shock, it only excited him so that he would not sit down to have his hurt dressed, but shouted out a noisy account

of the accident. F ortunately I had an

antiseptic dressing and bandage in my rucksack, and though he had a nasty torn wound of the scalp, I decided to proceed at least as far as the hut, though it was five hours’ hard climb, and I felt doubtful as to w hether he would be fit to traverse the M atterhorn in the morning.

T h e main object of our expedition was to climb over the top of the mountain from Italy and down the Swiss side to

Zerm att. However, when day broke he

wished to proceed, and assured me that

he could m anage the climbing. R ather

than risk the success of the expedition, I offered to come down with him, and pay him the same price, but he would not hear of it, and the other guide being quite

confident, with some misgiving I w ent over the mountain with the wounded man. My fear was of brandy combined with a hot sun, and images arose before me of a strong man delirious on the awful preci­ pices of this south side of the M atterhorn.

It was very soon apparent th at my guide’s powers were fully equal to his work, for our party w ent strongly and at a fair pace. W e had breakfast and rested half an hour on the classic rocks of the T yndallgrat, and

reached the summit in less than five

hours from the start, the second time we have stood together on th at snowy ridge which crowns the majestic mountain. “ Long Biner,” a Zerm att guide, who came up with a party from the other side, here told us of the death of Em ile Rey, and we were filled with w onder th at the famous climber should have ended his career by a fatal slip when all his serious work was

F U N C T I O N O F T H E C L I M B I N G F O O T 13

done on the Aiguille du G éan t— a mountain which he knew so well.

R eturning to the M onte R osa H otel for a rest, I was fortunate in falling in with Captain A bney, who kindly photo graphed for me the naked feet of my guides in the act of climbing a rock. It has often been noticed th at a guide can go face forward, and whole-footed up a slope, while the am ateur following, and coming to the steep part, has to go on his

toes or turn sideways. It seems possible

th at the angle made by the foot with the leg may be more acute in the guide who has climbed from infancy, and though it is probably very much a m atter of balance, I wished to compare photographs of am ateurs

feet when put into sim ilar action. T h e

guides wear thick leather boots loosely laced at the top, so th at it is difficult to see the play of the ankle.

T h ere is a most interesting discussion

by Darwin, in his voyage of the Beagle,

on muscular action and balance in riding, but of course in the case of the guides’ feet there may be some structural difference, hereditary and acquired, actually perm itting more freedom of m ovem ent at the ankle joint, which neither muscular action nor power of balance could give to the am ateur. T hese points are separately considered in another chapter on the “ Clim bing F o o t.”

O n a memorable m orning at the end of August, the m orning of Miss Sam pson’s fatal accident upon the Triftjoch, while we were packing up to travel over that same pass, my friend had a telegram to report the death of his m other at Chamounix. It was his first great grief, and seemed

the one unbearable thing in life. W ith

him I travelled to join his afflicted family. T h e sorrow of others thus threw a strong

T R A V E R S E O F T H E C H A R M O Z 15

shadow over me, and my friend having gone to England, I had now little heart for further climbing.

N evertheless, taking my guides to Mon- tanvers I traversed the Charmoz, a very fine rock climb, in which five points o f

varying size are scrambled over. T h ere

is a good deal of standing on one an o th er’s shoulders in acrobatic fashion in the ascents, and the use is frequent of a second rope looped over a point of rock in the descents. T h e highest peak is the last climbed, and its couloir is descended to the base of the rock to join the route below the couloir

of the first ascent. T h e glacier which it

is necessary to cross is, this year, in a dangerous state ; falls of ice are seriously

frequent. W hen on the highest point o f

the Charmoz, the most awful avalanche of stones came thundering down from near

was deafening, and a strong sulphurous smell, which lasted some time afterwards, suggested, as W hym per says, th at the

Devil was at the bottom of the business.

' M E L C H IO R A N D E R E G G , 1895.

FROM A PH O TO G R A PH liY M R . M YLES M A TH EW S.

W andering into C outtets’ H otel at Cha- mounix quite w ithout intention, I witnessed a touching farewell between Mr. M. and

R E G R E T S O F M O U N T A I N E E R I N G 17

Englishm an kiss his grey-bearded old guide on both cheeks, when these two have climbed together for forty years, gives one suddenly a glimpse of the pathos of life impossible to recall without emotion.

Beautiful for weather, dreadful for dis­ asters, this season will be rem em bered as the year in which Em ile Rey was killed on the Alps, and M um mery lost in the

Himalayas. All who knew the strong and

genial Benjamin E y re have felt his loss, and • he was a man with many friends. T h en alas ! there were others to whom we say farewell for ever.

F o r this season I have said good-bye to my faithful guides, one of whom is a friend of many other climbs, giving them a m odest addition to their m oderate fees and the old rope, which I leave behind. My folding lantern shall come away with me for future use ; it shuts up into a leather

case no larger than the little sketch-book in which I write the following somewhat heathenish, but very hopeful hymn :

G u id e, w ho b re a k s m y m id n ig h t sleep, L e a d s m e u p th e g la c ie r steep , W h e re th e la n te r n ’s fe e b le b e a m s S h in e o n snow a n d icy stre a m s ; W e fe a r n o d a rk n e s s in th e n ig h t

W h ile y o u r stro n g h a n d c o n tro ls th e light. D a w n w ill fo r th e c lim b e r rise,

D a y lig h t p o in t h im to th e s k ie s— W h a t if a ll b e m ist a n d c lo u d W h e n w e re a c h th a t su m m it p ro u d ? W h o , c o n q u e rin g , c a n v ic to ry cry, M o re g la d ly lives, d re a d s less to d ie ! M ig h ty G u id e ! w ho w oke a n d le d m e here, L e n d T h y lig h t to m a k e m y p a th w a y clear. T h o u g h d im a t first o n L ife’s all d o u b tfu l way, T h e stru g g le e n d s in d aw n a n d p e rfe c t d ay ; O b sc u rin g d a y lig h t h id e s m y la n te rn a n d T h y star, B u t p u rp le glow s w ith g o ld o n g lo rio u s p e a k s afar.

jtitountaincmtig tu Dauyljtnc

1894

W et w eath er a t K an d ersteg — F ly-fishing th e re —T h e fisher­ m an ’s fear o f a precipice— B irrenhorn a sc e n t—A scent of the B liim lis-A lphorn— C hateau a t Vizille—L a B érarde in th e D a u p h in e—A ccident to a guide’s tongue—T r a ­ verse o f the P o in te des E c rin s— G uide’s h a n d benum bed —W ild a n d im pressive scenery—A scent of th e G rande A iguille—A frost-bitten p o rte r— M y ascen t o f th e Meije w ith a b ro k en r ib —T h e heel spikes o f th e district.

T h e A lps of Dauphiné, which may be said

to lie in France betw een the M ont Blanc range and the M editerranean Sea, would be best approached by Paris, Lyons, and Grenoble, but as my climbing friend, A. B., was at K andersteg, I w ent there to meet him and a guide, and to stretch my legs

M A P O F T H E HIGH EST MO U NT A IN S IN T H E D A U P H I N !

T H E B I R R E N H O R N 21

on the Swiss mountains. O n the first day

after my arrival we inspected, with a view to attack the steep south face of the Birrenhorn, and surm ounted the only diffi­ culty of the climb, a steep chimney where

a rope is useful to avoid risk. W e planned

to complete the ascent on the first fine day. O n this little m ountain I found the most perfect snake’s cast I ever saw, which I

g ave to Professor Newton. Its head end

was in the hole w here its ow ner got rid of

it. T h e films over the eyes were present,

and by blowing into the mouth I could inflate the cast to a lively resem blance of the creature it had covered.

T h e w eather in the Bernese O berland was very bad, every day it rained in the valleys and snowed on the peaks ; on any expedition one was sure to g et wet, and mountains

o f any m agnitude were impossible. W ith

took a turn at fly-fishing, not in the glacier w ater of the K ander, but in a pretty stream with pools, where the trout, though small,

would rise to a fly. H is H im alayan ex­

perience made the Surgeon-M ajor anxious to stock the glacier torrents of Switzerland with Mahsir, a fish more powerful than the salmon, whose first wild rush on tasting the hook gives such a fierce joy to the sportsman.

M y companion, who was a strong walker, described to me his horrible sensations at

the sight of a precipice. H e told me that

his father, though he had shot gam e in the Himalayas, could never overcome this fear. If the idea of space was absent my friend could climb well, but I gathered th at horizontal ats well as vertical distance was concerned, because he could not comfort­ ably eat his lunch on a flat platform of an acre of grassland when there were miles

F E A R O F A P R E C I P I C E 23

of country far distant below and beyond. M ountain climbing for him was out of the question, his condition was almost that of

one suffering from agoraphobia or la pear

des espaces.

W e engaged Joseph Truffer as guide, and as soon as he joined us we completed

the B irrenhorn expedition. It was a satis­

faction to me to find th at he did not climb the couloir easily or at the first attem pt, but we had a good scramble on an interesting arête rather like the Portjengrat, in which there is a rock hole or window to crawl

through. W e w ent home by a long route

up by way of the O ber-O eschinen Alp, and go t thoroughly wet as usual.

T o climb the Blümlis-Alphorn, the highest point of the range, we slept out at a hut, which was unluckily occupied by workmen, who were building another hut close by. O ur night in dirty straw was not so pleasant

in dirty company, and the early m orning was dark and threatening ; we started how­ ev er at 4.30, led by Joseph H ari, a local

man. A fter crossing the glacier he took us

over some smooth slabs of rock arranged like a slated roof and coated with ice to

make us careful. T hese safely crossed,

Truffer took the lead, and up the final steep everything was ice wherein steps had

to be laboriously cut to the summit. W e

stood on the top at 10 o’clock, but saw little of our surrounding glories, except occasionally a brief glance round through the mists while standing perched in an ice

step. T h e w eather ended up in snow,

which shut us in on the glacier below, and made us thankful to be well off the ice, and safely quit of a mountain which, though usually an easy climb, could assert itself seriously in a storm.

O N T H E W A Y T O T H E D A U P H I N É 25 travelled to D auphiné ; we spent a few hours at Grenoble to see the old church

and the Bayard statue. W hile at lunch

a t the H otel M onnet I adm ired the oak wine jugs, which are called there “ Brocs.”

T h e re is a charm ing old chateau at

Vizille, with a lovely trout stream in the

grounds full of big fish. T h e tennis

court no longer stands in which in 1788 a memorable m eeting took place to protest

against the tax. T h e late President C arnot

unveiled a statue in 1888 in memory of this Revolutionary event and slept at the chateau as the guest of M adam e Casimir-

Périer. T h e old soldier who took us round

showed an oubliette in the old p art of the building— beneath its horrible shaft he had seen arm our-coated skeletons dug up.

W e walked up to L a Bérarde, a mule

carrying our baggage. Im m ediately on my

L E S ECRIN S F R O M T H E GL AC IE R B L A N C .

A C C I D E N T T O A G U I D E ’S T O N G U E 27

which had ju st happened. Tw o parties

were ascending a slope of ice when the last man of the first caravan slipped out of his step and sent his iron-shod heel into the jaw of the leader of the second caravan,

who was too near. Poor M aximin G aspard

g o t a bad torn wound of his tongue, cut by his teeth, which I had to stitch up with

silk and horse-hair. A s he was in fine

health the wound healed well, and in a few days, in fact, as soon as ever he could

feed, he was climbing again. M axim in’s

father, Pierre G aspard, is the fine old fellow who has made so many first ascents in these districts, and still makes the g reat climbs.

T h e highest m ountain in the Dauphiné, is the Pointe des Ecrins, 13,462 feet, its summit is a ridge of several beautiful points

of snow and rock. W ith H ippolyte Kodier

to assist Truffer we started to traverse this

hut, a native with a dead sheep on his shoulders ; it had been killed by a stone falling from the height above, and no doubt was to be made into “ precipice m utton.” A fter sleeping a few hours at the hut we g o t off at 1.30 in the morning, over the

glacier to the Col des Avalanches. Kodier

led us to the couloir on the south face, and we began to crawl up ; this was a

rock couloir, which a t a steep part was

iced and caused some delay. O ur leader,

however, got up to a firm position and I followed, but no one else came, and looking down I saw Truffer wringing his hands

and in distress. H e explained th at his

right hand was frost-bitten and he could not proceed; nevertheless, he was pulled up by the help of the rope, and finding from the appearance of the hand and from the pain, which is really a good sign of reaction, th at recovery was sufficient, we decided to

L E S E C R I N S 29 proceed, with some m isgiving on my part. W e gained the highest p art of the Ecrins.

about io o’clock. T h e re was a g reat deal

of fresh snow on the arête, and in c o m i n g

down to the glacier Blanc on the north side we w orked hard for five hours without

a halt to reach the Col des Ecrins. H ere

we rested and then descended a couloir of 1,000 feet to the glacier de la Bonne Pierre,

with its long and dreary moraine. T h e re

is a m easurem ent station on this moraine to register the m ovements of the glacier, and here we found a m arm ot recently killed, its flesh almost entirely eaten, the entrails

strewn around. A n eagle’s feather on the

body suggested the mode of death. T h e

sight of the sheep killed by a stone, and still more the beautiful furry m arm ot killed by an eagle, added in a strange way to

the savagery of the scene. In this wild

for nothing, all shall go.” W e had a long walk home, the last half-hour by lantern light, having been eighteen hours over our expedition.

W e wished next to traverse the Meije from L a Bérarde to L a Grave, which neither o f our guides had ever done, so it seemed best to let Truffer go back to Switzerland, lest on a serious expedition his hand should fail him again and its recovery be delayed. H is helpless condition in the iced couloir was explained by the fact that m onths before he had been ill with a bad hand, and its vitality had been impaired by what was probably a previous attack of frost-bite. Before his departure we had a lovely day on the G rande Aiguille ; on the top we basked and slept in the sun after a lunch of

tinned fruits and bread and butter. T h ere

is a little ice and snow requiring care on this beautiful peak, but we climbed it up

D E L A Y E D BY A C C ID E N T 31 and down w ithout a rope, and here we passed over the slope w here the tongue accid en t. occurred.

O ne evening I was aware of a pain in my chest, especially when I laughed, and I was rem inded th at at E aster I had broken a rib — in climbing to the top of a cromlech on D artm oor called “ T h e S pinster’s Rock,” but the bone seem ed to have m ended in spite of some neglect, and was forgotten until my compass box in the breast pocket jam m ed against the hurt in some scramble

and found out the weak point. I was

warned by pains in certain m ovem ents of the arm s against any attem p t to traverse the Meije, and very sadly I had to see my friend take off our guides for a successful expedition ; for though with a suitable band­ age on my chest I was quite active, yet could not pull m yself up by my arm s in climbing.

J O S E P H T U R C

A F R O S T -B IT T E N P O R T E R 33 W e had parted from Truffer with mutual regrets, for he was a very good fellow, and taken on Joseph Turc, a more experienced man than Kodier, and they worked well

together. T his T urc had ju st come over

from L a G rave with a porter named

Etienne. T h e latter, a poor wizened sun­

baked little man, had all his finger tips on each hand blackened with frost-bite ;

his thum bs had escaped. It appears that

a Frenchm an who could not climb well was taken by T urc to traverse the Meije

from L a Bérarde. T h ey go t no further

than the Pic Central, there they had to spend the night— next day gettin g into

L a Grave. T h e poor porter was allowed

to sleep with his fingers in this bad state, and come back over a pass to L a Bérarde

where in the afternoon I saw him. H e

had had some pain in the m orning of this day, and this encouraged me to attem pt

treatm ent ; so during two or three hours I rubbed him and watched him, and was assisted by my friend ; it was satisfactory to find a considerable improvement, especially in his right hand, which next m orning was even more apparently improved when the limits of the black dead portions were more defined— his nails will probably come off, and there will be ulcerated surfaces on his finger ends, which will be months in healing. T h e aspect of this man presented a pitiable combination of apathy and patience, rem ind­ ing me of the wolf-bitten Russian peasants

I saw in Pasteur’s laboratory in the Rue

D ’Ulm years ago. T h e guide with the

frost-bitten feet, of whom I wrote in my letter last year, is only now hobbling about with sticks, the wounds of his am putated toes still unhealed, so much is the process of repair hindered in tissues dam aged by frost-bite.

A S C E N T O F T H E M E I J E 35 W h at I call determination, but my friends describe as obstinacy, now induced me, after three days’ rest, to climb the Meije, 13,081

feet. It is a serious rock climb, decidedly

stiffer than the M atterhorn, and I did not attem pt the traverse, but it was an error of judgm ent to have climbed it in my crippled

condition. D oubtless the fine air, which

makes a man laugh so easily, and m akes the careworn light-hearted, steals away the reason like cham pagne— m aking the old man seem young— so the poet writes— “ T h e p la g u e o f g u id e a n d ch u m , a n d w ife a n d d a u g h te r

Is S en ex w ho w ill c lim b a n d d id n 't o u g h te r .” My friend having returned to rest from his expeditions I took off the guides for

the ascent of the Meije. W e walked

up the valley and halted at the hut. Joseph T u rc wanted to put his skin of wine, containing over five bottles, into my rucksack, and we had a difference, as I

LA M E IJ E F R O M T H E V A L D E S E T A N Ç O N S .

C L IM B W IT H A B R O K E N R IB 37 objected to his claret leaking into my shirts, so he had to carry it separately ; it was quite an easy matter, as I had a porter to carry my sleeping bag to a rock gite where the night was to be passed, a climb of

several hours. O n reaching the glacier,

Joseph and I being in front of the others, who carried the rope, he asked me if I

was afraid to go over the glacier. P rob­

ably he m eant w ithout the rope. I said

it was w hat I had come for ; but when we began to get to steep ice I found he did not cut steps, and as he had three large spikes in each of his heels he could go w here I could not follow w ithout using my

axe vigorously. H e then said he could not

cut the steps because of his wine skin, and

thus I was left either to cut on up all the

slopes or carry his skin. A fter a little

hesitation I offered to carry the wine for fear of hurting my rib, and I carried it up

to the sleeping place, though I did not find the steps cut much b etter after his burden was removed.

W e w ent to sleep under the stars on a lovely night, but the day broke dark and gloomy, so that it was half-past four before

we could start. W e roped at once, leaving

the porter to take the things back, and T urc led, but instead of placing me second

I was left to the last. W ith my own rope

of 80 feet long it happened frequently that the men passed out of sight, and I had no sort of communication with them unless I

chose to pull and shout. But this is well

enough when going straight up. It is a

difficult corner or traverse where the posi­ tion is a bad one ; the experts who have been on their own mountain before, leave the traveller alone to g et round his corner

as best he can. “ In medio tutissimus ibis,”

T H E B R O K E N R IB 39

I gained the summit at nine o’clock,

but ju st at the final struggle, w here it is necessary to straddle on a sharp red rock ridge, called the “ cheval rouge,” with fine precipices below, my rib gave way, and

went completely broken through. In spite

of firm bandaging, the coming down was a painful experience, for I could feel and even hear the ends of the broken bone g ratin g together ; but I kept at it, going down steadily and slowly with groans and

grunts. T h e guides sang and shouted and

drow ned my feeble exclamations. T hey

had had a good feed with tinned peaches and plenty of wine on the top when we rested, and it seem ed to make them very

happy. T h ey carried seven bottles of wine

011 this expedition, besides each man a flask of brandy, and as I do most of my climbing on cold tea, they had a good allowance.

Joseph T u rc is a real genius at rock climbing, a truly brilliant perform er ; but on ice, as he can’t cut steps, another time I should g et spikes or crampons. T h e guides here use three spikes in each heel, driven in, fixed by gomphosis, not like the M ummery spikes with a screw.

I got to the Inn in time to change for the table d ’hôte, not in the least fatigued, only blaming myself for the painful ordeal I had

passed through. W hile changing my g a r­

ments in the small bedroom we occupied together, my companion could plainly hear across the room the gratin g of my fractured

rib. So soon as exertion ceased I was

entirely well, and had a good dinner and night’s rest.

N o traveller who goes for m ountain ex­ peditions to the D auphiné district will leave without feeling a debt of gratitude (mixed with envy) to his own countrym en who have

climbed and walked all over this wonderful

country. T h e maps and climber’s guide by

Mr. Coolidge are marvels of convenience and accuracy, and must be carried by every­ one who wishes to learn his way about

these very difficult regions. Mr. W hym per

ought to be as proud of the conquest of the Pointe des E crins as of the M atterhorn.

My friend had a good climb on the Pic Bourcet, but of course I did not attem pt this, returning to E ngland by easy stages,

halting at Aix-les-Bains and at Paris. In

London I found laughing at “ C harley’s A unt ” a serious m atter for my dam aged rib, though I thoroughly enjoyed this absurd farce, as I enjoyed every day of my vacation, and there was no day I would not willingly live over again.

j&tott$ertenïi «mìi

1 8 9 3

B egin a t K andersteg— B enighted on the Zinal glacier— G lacier tab les a n d b a th s—W ild beasts in th e h u t— T h e Col D u ran d — G uide in a crevasse—A scent o f the D en t B lan ch e—A clim ber exhausted—A scent o f th e W eissh o m —A th u n d ersto rm — D eath of Mr. Lucas a n d Mr. Seiler. T h e F urggen Jo c h — Italy a n d th e Ita lia n side of M ont B lanc—T h e h u t on the A iguille G rise— T h e trav erse o f M ont B lanc—A nxiety as to w eather— T h e observatory on th e sum m it—A scent o f Aiguille du D ru. A scent o f th e A iguille V erte— F ro st-b itten g uide— Peculiar d an g ers o f a fine season.

W h e n A lbert Sm ith made the ascent of

M ont Blanc in 1851, he did not seem to enjoy himself much ; he was thoroughly exhausted and done up, as well he m ight

be, with sixteen guides, and £ 2 0 worth of

A L B E R T S M I T H 43 our fathers did, in hearing his lecture, or in

reading his dear little book. T h ey listened

with the greatest interest to his serio-comic

groans. A hundred bottles of wine, sixty-

seven fowls, joints of m eat in proportion, and ten cheeses carried up the mountain ought to have led to trouble somewhere. O11 the other hand I enjoyed m yself so much in the ascent of M ont Blanc th at I fear I have nothing left to entertain others. My climbing friend was with me and two guides, also friends of form er years ; we had

no certificate and no cannon. N o r was

there any pretty Julie down below to give me a cornelian heart and talk about “ une alliance.”

But I will begin at the beginning, and travel first from C am bridge to K andersteg, from the land of fen and bog to the land of fine air and bright m ountains— the Bernese

staying in E g g e r’s most comfortable inn, and there we made a plan of campaign. W e were fortunate in crossing the Gemmi to obtain a fine view of the m ountains we

were about to attack. W e slept at Sierre

in the Rhone Valley, and in the m orning went up the Val D ’Anniviers, one of the finest valleys in the Alps, a beautiful journey to Zinal, w here we met our trusty guides— Alois Ixalberm atten and X av er Im seng. W e must needs try and reach the hut high up the glacier that same night, and consequently got benighted, and arrived very late at the M ountet Cabane, rath er

cross and tired. W hile the daylight lasted I

saw on the glacier hundreds of glacier-tables,

like a crop of gigantic mushrooms. T h e

hot w eather this year may have made these more apparent, for on all the glaciers I walked over they seemed more conspicuous

a cottage, when it lies upon the glacier, protects the ice beneath from the sun, so that in time the ice m elting all round leaves the stone perched on a pedestal of ice. T h e icy pyram id gradually yields on the sunny side, and allows the stone to tilt and

fall always in the same direction. On the

C o rn er Glacier I saw a stone supported by two separate pyramids, but this is unusual. If the stone which lies upon the glacier be thin enough, it may be so warmed through by the sun that it makes a hole for itself in the ice, and is buried in a pit full of water. So may dirt make a bath in the glacier, or if it be in large quantity, may leave a cone of solid ice all dirt covered, looking like a large ant heap.

T h e deep pits full of w ater are started in the m anner indicated, but the sun-warmed surface w ater is continually being replaced by the ice-cold w ater below, and the warmed

water deepens the pit in the ice, until a large bath is formed, often two or three feet deep, with steep sides, and no warning ledge or ridge around, so th at a careless walker m ight go in, and in the dusk they are very difficult to avoid.

W e had a dark experience on the glacier, and had to leave it for the icy-hearted moraine for fear of accidents, thankful to find shelter after some hours of weary

stum bling along, when there was light

enough to see our dangers but barely

enough to perm it us to avoid them. W hen

in the welcome shelter of the hut, we shared with fleas and rats th at rough abode— w hether the rats in the straw had guides to this place is a curious problem ; the fleas in the rugs were unusually fierce and

hungry. T h ere was a rat in the hut before

its building was completed ; when I called M. C onstans’ attention to his first visitor,

he rem arked in surprise “ D é jà ! ” but it no doubt m igrated from the old M ountet

C abane near by to the C onstantia, as the

present place is called in honour of the

architect.

All next day the w eather was too bad to climb, and we had to give up our

traverse of the R othhorn this season,

having been beaten in the same way last

year after coming over the Triftjoch. W e

went to Z erm att over the Col Durand, which led us to' an ice slope of some steep­ ness up which steps had to be cut, and

then over snow. As we neared the top of

the pass, with no suggestion of any crack in the smooth white surface of snow, we walked along all roped together ; quite sud­ denly our leading guide disappeared down

a crevasse. I was last on the rope and saw

nothing but his h at ; however, he was soon out again , by wrigglings on to his back,

shook himself free of snow, and appeared to mind it about as much as a N ewfound­

land dog minds water. But it was a good

lesson in the use of the rope, which alone can make such an ordinary journey safe. My first care in reaching Zerm att was to

have my boots well nailed. E nglish nails

are no good, though Flack’s boots stood

me well. My next thought was to present

the local chemist with a prescription which puzzled him for the m om ent— Mr. Pulex Irritans— Be : Pulvis usque ad mortem puli-

cibus ferocibus quantum sufficit. My friend

said this dog Latin was appropriate, for

dogs and fleas were inseparable. I was

soon supplied with a tin of K eating.

T h e w eather was too good for dawdling, and we proceeded to attack the D ent

Blanche. T ak in g provisions and rugs to the

Schönblihl rock, our men cut bits of dry trees with their ice axes before we left the woods

A S C E N T O F T H E D E N T B L A N C H E 49 below us to cross the glacier, and thus provided fuel to cook the excellent supper

we enjoyed before we slept. T h ere were

two other parties on the rocks th at night

— the Stockje hut being in ruins. W e

crept into a hole and had a good night there, in a natural cave which was warm

and dry. W hen in the small hours of the

morning we were drinking our chocolate, a cry suddenly arose from one of the other

parties th at their rope was missing. W e

stirred the fires and searched with lanterns, and it was all very picturesque, but did not

lead to discovery— the rope was lost. So

only two parties started off early and began to climb, and reached the summit after a hot fatiguing ascent up ice, snow, and rock. T h e younger man of this other party climbed in a boating sweater, appeared to feel the heat exceedingly, and went to sleep

descent was over he was decidedly ill, but fortunately not utterly collapsed until after the more dangerous ice slopes had been descended ; his “ legs ” were then quite gone and he had to be supported by the guides before he reached the sleeping place, where we left him w rapped in my shawl with his friend faithfully beside him to pass the night.

T h e unlucky man whose rope had been

lost was a Britisher not easily beaten. H e

sent his guides back on their tracks, and by daylight the rope had been found, where it had been carelessly dropped, upon the glacier ; so that, though rath er delayed, his ascent was made successfully, and the

traveller returned by another route to

Ferpècle. W e, after having decided that

the sick man was safe enough and fast asleep, found our way with difficulty in the dark, except for lanterns, across the

A S C E N T O F T H E W E I S S H O R N 51 glacier, whereon we wandered nearly three

hours, and X av er refreshed himself by

falling into a big w ater bath. Finally we

had to stay at Staffel A lp instead of at our

hotel at Zerm att. But we here enjoyed a

sound refreshing sleep all night, and walked down cheerfully in the sunlight of the early morning.

A s the W eisshorn was to be our next peak we took train one afternoon to R anda and climbed up the Schalliberg some hours

to the rocks below the ruined hut. T his

was a warm sleeping place, though rather exposed, where we slept well beneath the stars, woke up quite fresh, and enjoyed

the climb immensely. On the rock arête

at about 12,000 feet up, and while the dawn was lighting the peaks around, a dense black cloud appeared over Italy slowly moving tow ards the M atterhorn ; lightning came flashing out of it every few

seconds. It was a strange sight to witness this storm-cloud bursting over a distant land, while all about us the sky was clear and the stars were seen fading before the

rising sun. A climber has related his

experience in a thunderstorm which stopped him on the D en t Blanche, when the electric current made his goggles hiss upon his

head. T h e hissing of the ice axe is

generally near enough for an unpleasant sensation, and is not a rare occurrence, but the snow glasses being affected m akes a more powerful appeal to the imagination. W e had a good day on the W eisshorn (14,804 feet), and rested at the gîte on the rocks as we descended, then later

had a refreshing tea at Randa, . where

we heard the first sad news of the loss of life th at m orning upon the Täschhorn

ju st opposite us. A party of four, two

LO SS O F M R. L U C A S 53 the T äschhorn from Saas Fée to Randa,

g o t benighted in the descent. By light of

a lantern they got to a point of com parative safety where all four lay down to sleep, but only three woke up ; Mr. Lucas had wandered off in the night and fallen over a precipice, where his body was found in the morning.

A t Zerm att, though the hotels seem crowded, there are not many climbers, they go up higher or appear only for a day

and off again. T h e place is full of people

— omnibuses run over you in the streets— and you may be there some time before you notice that Mdlle. Biner has now started a cabin near the M onte Rosa and shaves you as well as ever, advertising

herself as a coiffeuse. She is dressed in

black, m ourning for her brother, the guide

killed this year with young Seiler on

tailleuse, a useful person sometimes after climbing rocks, and when your w ardrobe is scanty.

Leaving Z erm att we spent one night at the Schwarzsee H otel, close to the M atterhorn, intending to cross over into Italy by the Furgg-joch— this pass skirts the M atterhorn ; we climbed to the top in about two and a half hours ; starting from our inn at 4, we arrived at Valtournanche

about 10 a.m. T h en taking a carriage

after a long rest and refreshment, our driver ju st made us miss the train at ChAtillon, when the Italian sun was at its hottest ; we had a siesta and dined there, and so in the evening to Aosta, where we

slept the night. W e took places in the

diligence to C ourm ayeur next morning, and saw M ont Blanc before us in a few hours. T h e Aiguille Blanche de P éteret is well seen from the road, a sad rem inder to all

T R A V E R S E O F M O N T B L A N C 55 Cam bridge men of Dr. F ran k Balfour, who

perished on th at m ountain in 1882. It

has been climbed by Sir Seym our King, and again this year by Dr. Giissfeldt with

Em ile Rey as guide. Six hundred francs

is said to have been paid as fee for guidance.

W e were up early for an eight hours’ climb, with a final rock scramble to the Italian Q uintino Sella club hut on the

Aiguille G rise (11,812 feet). H ere we had

good food and sleep ; our men went out

for an hour and cut steps up a steep ice slope, ready for the ascent of M ont Blanc

in the morning. As this ice slope appeared

to be dangerous from falling stones, we began early, and were greatly helped by the steps already cut ; if any stones came down we were not aware of them, though out of sight is not out of mind in these steep places.

T h e w eather when we began our climb in the dusk before the clay broke was very threatening, and later on a light fall of snow and hail gave us anxiety, as we clam bered up the steep rocks, lest we should be driven back to our hut, the difficulty and danger of such a repulse increasing every hour until it was necessary to go on and make the ascent w hatever befell us.

W e passed on the higher rocks an enor­ mous rusty ice axe of an ancient pattern, which doubtless has a story ; we left it on

the spot for others to wonder at. W e

made the ascent in about eight hours, including halts, and I stood on the highest point in these A lps— the great snow summit

of M ont Blanc— 15,780 feet. But let us

not be proud, the highest mountain in the world, M ount Everest, is nearly twice as high.

H U T O N T H E S U M M IT 57 O n the curve of snow at the highest point a huge tim ber skeleton of a building is erected; heavy beams as thick as my body, strongly fixed together, make a truncated pyram id with a rectangular base, which looks as if it m ight stand the storms, or

g et buried in snow. A t present the wind

whistles through, and it presents no surface

to the blast. M. Vallot, who is building

this for an observatory, has had to plant the foundations in ice, finding no rock after

thirty feet excavation. W h eth er the ice

will move, or piled up snow will displace

the structure, remains to be proved. Snow

collects always more on the north (French) aspect of the summit, and this tendency to collect may be increased by the obstruction. T h e workmen stated a t Cham ounix that plum stones were found at a depth of tw enty feet, and if this be true it is exceedingly interesting and im portant as showing that

these stones, which m ust have been dropped on the summit by travellers, had m aintained their verticalness, and had not been carried

down tow ards the glaciers below. T h ere

the hut stands at present with a small

tricolour flag floating alongside. My vulgar

wish to climb the tim bers was unexpressed

and unfulfilled. W e were shut in com­

pletely by dark fog. Cold wind and the

dangers of storm drove us down to ju st below the top on the Cham ounix side, where there is a hut built as an observatory. T h is shelter we feared at first to leave ; wind and darkness kept us there, no tracks were visible, nor anything to guide us but

the snow all round. T h e wind was not

the dangerous (south) Föhn wind, and presently, after a cold blast, we were able for a moment to see our direction ; then by the advice of our guides we hurried down over the G rand Plateau, scuttling and

T H E A IG U IL L E D U D R U 59 sliding to the G rands Mulets, and safety,

in two hours and ten minutes. A fter a cup

of tea and a rest we continued our journey over the beautiful glacier des Bossons in

bright sunshine. W e reached C o u ttet’s

capital hotel in Cham ounix at six o ’clock, thus traversing M ont Blanc from Italy into France in fourteen hours, including halts by

the way. T his is a far finer expedition

than up and down from Chamounix, but is not so popular, and the traveller, bringing with him foreign guides into the place, is not saluted by a salvo of artillery.

N ext day we were at M ontanvert ad ­ m iring the M er de Glace, and during thunderstorm s of many hours we made our arrangem ents to climb the A iguille du Dru. Sleeping out under a rock, where we had passed a storm y night last year, we began in fine w eather our steep ascent mostly of rocks, with plenty of opportunities for

adventures on the way. T h ere is one place in climbing the rocks w here a rope is hung over a precipice, and by gently swinging on this rope a long step or giant stride is made across to a foothold

beyond. It is only one of the many

positions in m ountaineering where imagina­ tion shows you w hat a slight distance there is between w hat you are and w hat you

may become. In the descent a frightful

avalanche of stones fell down ju st as we cleared the rocks, but it was not near enough to shake our nerves.

On the 28th of A ugust I slept at the Cou­

vercle to climb the Aiguille Verte. This

sleeping place is a good one where an enor­ mous rock overhangs the little platform on which the sleeper stretches, and it is grandly situated above the famous Jardin in the

Glacier de Talèfre. B eing roused before

hesi-T H E A IG U IL L E V E R hesi-T E 6i tated before attacking such a mountain as the Aiguille V erte with a high wind and storm-clouds in prospect ; m eantime we had some hot chocolate, and only set off with some misgivings at one in the morning. T h e wind m oderated as the day broke, we g o t over the bergschrund, and made a suc­

cessful ascent in about nine hours. T h e

summit of the V erte is of snow, command­ ing a fine view of M ont Blanc and the peaks

around. W e noted with feelings of annoy­

ance that the majestic snow curve upon the head of the M onarch is broken by the erection of V allot’s wooden building, which looks from here like a projection of dark

rocks. Tim e may revenge himself, and

play skittles with the timbers.

W hen I parted from my guides, whose conduct was worthy of all praise, and came down to Chamounix, I saw there a most piteous sight, that of a fine young fellow

with both feet frost-bitten. All the toes of both feet were black, and large blisters appeared on the reddened skin of the foot

above the blackened toes. H e was a guide

named Maquignaz, and forty-eight hours before my visit had been exposed during one night on the Italian side of M ont Blanc ; he was with Mr. F. and another

guide, a cousin of the same name. T he

others of the party put their feet into their knapsacks, and took such like pre­

cautions, and so escaped. O n exam ining

this poor fellow’s boots I discovered that, though sound enough in the soles, they had the tongues fastened only halfway up th e upper leathers, and with no gaiters •or other w rapping except his trousers, he

m ust have got his feet wet. T h e latest

accounts I heard were not hopeful as to ■saving the big toes. W ithout the great toes h e cannot climb again and his occupation

F R O S T -B IT T E N F E E T 63 will be gone ; the loss of the little toes is

not so serious. T h e reflection after such a

sad sight is forced upon one, th at though over sixty deaths are said to have occurred on M ont Blanc, history takes small account of the travellers who have lost portions of their bodies upon the m ountains and had their after lives w recked by their maimed condition.

T h e delay caused by an endeavour to help this unfortunate man, decided me to journey to G eneva with my friend rather than travel alone over the T ê te Noire. It was late next night before I reached Z erm att again and joined my wife, who had reached the Riffelberg from Paris ten

days previously. W e found m ost comfort­

able quarters at the Riffel Alp lower down, in an enormous hotel, where two hundred and seventy people dined every day, includ­ ing an archbishop and forty-five clergymen.