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THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
PRESENTED BY
PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID
Edouard Cupelin.
Frontispiece.
HIGH LIFE
AND
TOWERS OF SILENCE
BY THE AUTHOR OF
" 'JHE HIGH ALPS IN WINTER ; OR, MOUNTAINEERING IN SEARCH
OF HEALTH "
u
EontJoit
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON
CROWN BUILDINGS, i88, FLEET STREET
l8S6
\_All rights reserved]
<
By the same Author (Mrs. Fred Burnaby).
Lar^e C7'/., luith Portrait and Maps,
cloth, price los. 6d.
ON HORSEBACK THROUGH ASIA MINOR.
LONDON:
SAMPSON LOW,MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTOX,
CROWN BUILDINGS, l88, FLEET STREET, E.C.
TO
EDOUARD CUPELIN,
OF CHAMONIX,
the guide who accompanied me in most of my wanderings, and to
whose pluck and knowledge of his work I owe whatever success
I achieved in the excursions which we made together,
I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME.
A 2
PREFACE.
Messieurs les Ixtr£pides !
If, in the hope of reading accounts of Alpine
ascents, you honour me by glancing at this volume,
you will find on page 6^ the only record of
climbing likely to interest you, if you search for
novelty.
But, if you care to wander with me over familiar
ground, and amongst familiar faces, perhaps I may
be able to give you a few hours' pleasure as, one
by one, the well-known scenes rise up before you.
Switzerland is thronged with our compatriots in
summer, and is visited by many of them in winter
also ; I must, therefore, beg the indulgence of my
readers if I tell them much which it is possible
they know already, and if I often tread with them
over " les grandes voies oii I'humanite a passe."
The public, who received with such undeserved
1^3168122
vi Preface.
kindness my first work, will, I feel sure, extend
their good will to this also, and will understand
my difficulty in trying to represent familiar scenes
under new aspects.
Elizabeth Main.
Saas-Fee,
July, 1886.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
SOME WINTER SCENES IN SWITZERLAND.
PACE
Erroneous ideas about winter in the heights of Switzer-
land — One of our countrymen starts from Chur for
the Engadine — Churwalden recommends itself to
the English in an amusing pamphlet — Luncheon
at Lenz — Tiefenkasten and its church — The con-
ductor of the post recounts his adventures — He also
mentions an ascent of Piz Julier in winter — I digress
in order to describe this excursion — A few words
about Pontresina guides — We set out for Piz Julier
— An avalanche is started — We reach the summit
of the mountain — A long halt on the rocks — We
descend — Upset from a sledge — The relief party —
St. Moritz at last — The typical traveller, who has
rested at the hospice of the Julier, reaches his des-
tination I
CHAPTER n.
TOURISTS AND OTHERS WHOM ONE MEETS.
Americans abroad — Paterfamilias interviews an intre-
i)idc — Aparty of Americans visit Montanvert — They
question me about the Mer de Glace — Preparations
for crossing the glacier — Americans at the Grands
Mulcts — I am warned not to ascend Mont Blanc
— The kindly but tactless person — The stingy
and mean person — The unsnubbable person — The
elderly spinster — The person who always likes to be
learning something — The "personally conducted"
— The two species of lady climbers — The German
who vindicates the honour of his country — The in-
viil Contents.
I'AGE
tellii^ent German — The German who speaks a little
English — The spiritual and medical advisers — In-
fluence of resident doctors over their patients —
Spring quarters — Seevvis . . . . . .21
CHAPTER III.
THE DIAVOLEZZA IN WINTER WITHOUT GUIDES.
Morbid interest displayed by many people in accidents
which have terminated fatally — Works of Mr.
Whymper and Dr. Emile Zsigmondy — The danger
of small excursions undertaken without sufficient
precautions — We set out for the Diavolezza — Bad
snow — JNIr. S. suffers greatly from fatigue — The Pers
glacier — Darkness overtakes us — Mr. S. leads us
through the seracs — Tracks at last — A mauvais pas
— We lose sight of the tracks and Mr. S. feels very
faint — He is almost unable to walk — Two anxious
hours — The foot of the glacier is reached — We meet
a relief party at Pontresina 43
CHAPTER IV.
THE STELVIO UNDER SNOW.
Our plans for the Ortler district — We start for Santa
Catarina — A fair porter — The hotel is closed — Our
porter conducts us to a small inn of uninviting ap-
pearance — Cupelin's three pieces of information —
We are driven back to Bormio by bad weather —
We decide to reach Tyrol by the Stelvio — We take
a carriage and are joined by two Germans who are
going our way— Cupelin's treasures — The fourth
Cantonicre — The carriage can go no further — Diffi-
culty in procuring porters — We speak our mind —
At last we get under weigh — Our German com-
panions — I am forced to make the tracks — My
maid faints, and my hands are frost-bitten — Prepa-
rations for spending the night on the Stelvio — A
primitive lodging — Cupelin cuts up the staircase for
firewood . 54
Contents, ix
CHAPTER V.
THE FLOODS OF 1 882 IN AUSTRIA AND
NORTHERN ITALY.
PAGE
Return of the porters — We are persuaded to go back to
the Custom-House — The officials speed the parting
guests — We go down to the Muster Thai by the
W^ormser Joch — Arrival at IMals — W"e hear about
the floods — The Germans leave us — State of the
road to Aleran — We reach Aleran — We plan a small
excursion — A porter is engaged who suffers from
continual hunger — He accepts our offer to remain
till our return at the foot of the peak — He shows us
our destination — We find that the point indicated is
not the summit — A long detour — We give chase to
the porter who has not waited for us — His sack is
found to be empty — The porter still suffers from
hunger — Cupelin starts for Chamonix and I set out
for iMontreux — The floods — The manner in which
wood is collected at Meran — Trent — Appearance of
Verona after the inundation — We reach Switzer-
land 72
CHAPTER VI.
COL DU TOUR IN SPRING, WITHOUT GUIDES.
We decide to make the excursion of the Col du Tour —
Fenetre de Saldna and Col de Chardonnet — Much
fresh snowabovethe village of Tour— An unpleasant
scramble — We gain the glacier — A thick fog and
great heat — The pass — We are in doubt as to the
prudence of crossing the Col de Chardonnet in a
fog — We reluctantly make up our minds to go back
the way we came — We do not enjoy the descent —
At ten o'clock we reach Chamonix — Condition of
our faces — The guides are not sympathetic when at
last we can leave the house 91
CHAPTER VII.
FIRST ASCENT OF THE BIESHORN (13,652 FEET).
A few words about the peaks of the Alps which remained
X Contents.
PAGE
unascended in 1884 — Imboden gives me some un-
expected information — Appearance of the Bieshorn
from the Vispthal — We examine the mountain from
the Festi — We decide to attempt its ascent — The
start — A night below the Bruneggjoch — Our peak
at close quarters — The Biesjoch — We begin the
ascent of the Bieshorn — Excitement — " It will go
somehow, but I daresay you won't like the look of
it I " — The appearance of the arete — We have a
livelv two hours — Imboden loses his axe — A virgin
summit — We try a short cut in descending — A
miniature avalanche — Imboden suggests a novel
mode of crossing a glacier — Back on the Brunegg-
joch — We cross the Barrjoch and descend to St.
Nicholas ......... 98
CHAPTER VIIT.
OVER THE MATTERHORN FROM VISP TO BREUIL, AND
BACK TO ZERMATT BY THE ST. THEODULE WITHOUT
SLEEPING OUT.
The Matterhorn is irresistible— Alexander Burgener
consents to start at 11 p.m. — 71ie hut is occupied
by an American and his guide, who have gone up
to see the sunrise — They are anxious to follow us
up the Matterhorn — They find holding on with their
hands formidable work and retire after five minutes
of it — The summit of the Matterhorn — Ice on the
rocks — The ladder — Condition of the Tyndal ari'te
— Alexander calls for a halt till the moon should rise
— A weary descent — We are obliged to cut steps
down the whole of the glacier Du Lion — Breuil —
Alexander mounts a donkey — The Col St, Thcodule
^-Professor Schuitz 114
CHAPTER IX.
THIRD ASCENT OF THE HIGHEST POINT OF THE DENT
DU GEANT.
A short account of the Dent du Gcant — Signor Alessandro
Sellas ascent — Mr. Graham's ascent — We start for
Contents, xi
PAGE
the Col du Geant — State of the hut — A thunder-
storm — Bad weather obliges us to return — Mr.
Hartley's ascent — Our second attempt— Bad weather
again — We console ourselves by a scramble up La
Vierge — Aline day at last— Burgener's cairn — Michel
enjoys himself — The first summit — Description of
the climb from the lower to the higher peak — The
view — A furious wind — Montanvert — Mr. Donkin's
photograph of the Dent du Geant . . . .124
CHAPTER X.
PRIMITIVE CUSTOMS OF SOME ALPINE VILLAGES.
Wiesen in winter and spring — Result of a death in the
village — Agriculture — Haymaking — Pontresina in
winter — Treatment of criminals — The policeman — •
Education — Examination of porters at Chamonix
who desire to become guides — Notice-boards — Ad-
vertisements — Wiesen again — Laws against riding,
driving, and tobogganning on certain davs — The
watchman — A village concert — A wedding — Excur-
sions — A ball — Feats of strength — A digression in
order to relate some amusing incidents of a winter
stay in the heights — Bradshaw does his best to
entertain the continental traveller . . . .141
CHAPTER XL
THREE VERY SMALL SCRAMBLES.
The Riffelhorn from the glacier — We decide to descend
by the same route — Imseng distinguishes himself —
The last gully — We make the descent — Guides who
chuckle reassuringly — Advantages and disadvan-
tages of Pontresina in summer — "The Sisters" —
Christian Grass — Zermatt again — We start for the
Rothhorn — Mist — We go up the Unter Gabelhorn
from the Triftthal— Dr. Mosely's gully . . .163
xii Contents.
CHAPTER XII.
TWO OLD FRIENDS.
I'AGE
Imboden makes a suggestion — Appearance of the Weiss-
horn — A warning — Anecdote of an ascent of the
IMatterhorn — Imboden sounds the depths of the
perfidy of the human heart — A friendly suggestion
— We start for the Ried Pass — I am accompanied
by a guide and porter of whom I know very httle —
The ideas of the former become confused — We un-
dertake the guiding — A dangerous piece of advice —
ObUged to resort to strategy — Fee — Arrangements
for ascending the Weisshorn — -We set out from
Randa — The comforts awaiting us at the hut —
Uncertainty — We start at 4 a.m. — The delight of
climbing a classical peak — The arete — Arrival on
the summit — -Descent to Randa — Apres cela, la
deluge I So
CONCLUSION.
Reasons for venturing to present this work to the public,
and good wishes for those who visit Switzerland for
health or pleasure . . . . . . .194
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Frontispiece— Edouard Cupelin.
Chapel containing Skulls and Bones to face 7
A Glacier Mill, or Moulin . . . to face 48
The Bieshorn, from the Bruneggjoch to face 98
A Street in Wiesen to face 141
The Old Village of Wiesen . . . to face 156
The Westerly Peak of the Two Sisters,
from the Easterly Peak. . . to face 171
I
,v
■.w
■^~\ ■'•
:*.
'*— "* '■ ^.■•■'iai.^.
» T X-V T XT IT r
ERRATx\.
Page 89, line i^, for from the floods, read from the land of
floods.
„ 149, „ 23, for often found between a glacier and a
moraine, read generally found across the
lower end of a couloir.
f>
One of our countrymen starts from Criur for the
Engadine — Churwalden recommends itself to the
English in an amusing pamphlet — Luncheon at Lenz — •
Tiefenkastcn and its church — The conductor of the
post recounts his adventures — He also mentions an
ascent of Piz Julier in winter — I digress in order to
describe this excursion — A few words about Pontresina
guides — We set out for Piz Julier — An avalanche is
B
xii Contents.
CHAPTER XII.
TWO OLD FRIENDS.
PAGE
Imboden makes a suggestion — Appearance of the Weiss-
horn — A warning — Anecdote of an ascent of the
IMatterhorn — Imboden sounds the depths of the
perfidy of the human heart — A friendly suggestion
— We start for the Ried Pass — I am accompanied
by a guide and porter of whom I know very little —
The ideas of the former become confused — We un-
dertake the guiding — A dangerous piece of advice —
Obliged to resort to strategy — Fee — Arrangements
for ascending the Weisshorn — We set out from
Randa — The comforts awaiting us at the hut — •
Uncertainty — We start at 4 a.m. — The delight of
climbino" a clnc;<;iral i-»<=>'ii- — tk^ — -■« ' ^
v^n^rc,!. cUx-MlAl.MNG bKULLS AND BONES tO fclCC 7
A Glacier Mill, or Moulin . . . to face 48
The Bieshorn, from the Bruneggjoch to face 98
A Street in Wiesen to face 141
The Old Village of Wiesen . . . to face 156
The Westerly Peak of the Two Sisters,
from the Easterly Peak. . . to face 171
.:-^ :s.
THE WIESENER ALP IN WIxXTER.
HIGH LIFE
AND
TOWERS OF SILENCE.
CHAPTER I.
SOME WINTER SCENES IN SWITZERLAND.
Erroneous ideas about winter in the heights of Switzerland — •
One of our countrymen starts from Chur for the
Engadine — Churwalden recommends itself to the
English in an amusing pamphlet — Luncheon at Lenz — ■
Tiefenkasten and its church — The conductor of the
post recounts his adventures — He also mentions an
ascent of Piz Julier in winter — I digress in order to
describe this excursion — A few words about Pontresina
guides — We set out for Piz Julier — An avalanche is
B
((-
-<
2 High Life and Towers of Silence,
started — We reach the summit of the mountain — A long
halt on the rocks — We descend — Upset from a sledge —
The relief party — St. Moritzat last — The typical traveller,
who has rested at the hospice on the Julier, reaches
his destination.
I HAVE been so often questioned with regard to
winter travelling in the high-lying and remote parts
of Switzerland, that perhaps it may interest my
readers if I tell of some of my winter journeys.
On returning to England, after a winter spent in
one of the Alpine health resorts, I am invariably
assailed with such questions as these : —
" Can you leave your winter-quarters once the
snow has fallen t "
" Are there diligences In which it is possible to
travel from place to place ? "
'^ Do you get food and letters with regularity } "
"Can you walk, or must you always remain In
the house 1 "
In answer to such queries I will begin by
describing the manner in which an English traveller
arriving at Chur, say, the middle or end of Novem-
ber, Is conveyed over the Julier Pass to St. Morltz,
in the Engadlne. After a night spent at Chur,
our countryman goes at 7 a.m. to the Post. There
High Life and Toilers of Silence. 3
he sees a heavy yellow vehicle, much the same as
those used in summer, except that there is no
banquette, the accommodation consisting only of
the four inside places and the coupe.
He wonders how this clumsy conveyance,
mounted on high wheels, and drawn by four horses,
will force its way through the snow which, he
hears, already lies thickly on the Julier Pass.
There is only a thin sprinkling on the ground at
Chur, though the surrounding hills are already
clothed in their heavy winter garb.
At last all the luggage is hoisted up on the top
of the diligence, the conductor has snugly en-
sconced himself alone in the interior, with both
windows closed, thus, after a time, securing, on this
hot and sunny day, a temperature something akin
to that of his living-room at home ; the driver
cracks his whip, and the vehicle moves off, and
soon begins laboriously to mount the long incline
to Churwalden. The traveller, from his place in the
coupe, notices that the patches of snow on the road
are becoming larger and more frequent, till, at last,
everything is shrouded in white. Every few minutes
one of the wheels of the diligence sinks deeply into
B 2
4 ^ig^^ Life and Towers of Silence.
a small drift, and the vehicle lurches over on one
side, a performance somewhat disquieting to persons
of weak nerves and lively imaginations. Chur-
walden is the next village of considerable size
above Chur. It is resorted to in summer by Swiss
and a few English. A pamphlet recommending
the place contains the curious statement that
" Churwalden has become an airing-place," and the
document is signed, " Dr. Denz, physician, living
at the Kurhaus, and owning an apothecary's shop."
Arrived at Churwalden, our friend is told to
alight. On doing so he sees, drawn up near the
Post, two or three sledges, painted yellow and black.
Each is intended to hold two persons, and has a
board at the back on which the driver stands.
There is also a sledge for the luggage, and each of
the sledges is drawn by one horse.
Some country folk are waiting for the diligence
to take them to Lenz. One of them is put into a
sledge with our English traveller, two more go
to2"ether, and the fourth in the remaining sledge with
the conductor. Our countryman thinks that the
moving of the luggage from the large diligence to
the sledge is a very tedious affair, and he wonders
Hif^h Life and Tcnvers of Silence.
how soon they will be ready to start. At last an
individual in the regulation blue coat and shiny hat
appears. *• Now," thinks our friend, " here is the
driver, so we shall soon be off." However, to his
surprise, after taking hold of the reins, the driver
does not seem as if he intends to use them On the
contrary, he ties them in many and curious loops
round the horse's neck, a proceeding which the
traveller cannot as yet understand. Having finished
his apparently aimless task, the driver leads the
horse out into the road, where two of the sledges
are already standing. The horse who is to draw
the luggage has his reins also arranged round his
neck, and the driver having got all the sledges in
line, the conductor first, the Englishman second,
himself standing at the back of the third, and the
baggage at the end, he cries^ " Vorwiirts ! " cracks his
whip and flicks it along the line, and the procession
starts. It has now become clear to our traveller that
the next stage of his journey is to be made in a
sledge without a driver! He tries to question his
companion, but cannot understand any of the
peasant's vile Grisons patois, mumbled out between
nuffs of viler Grisons tobacco. The train of sledges
6 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
mounts the slope at a quick walk — the pace is
decidedly faster than it would be in summer. Ar-
riving at the summit of the Lenzerhohe, a widely
stretching heath at the top of the pass between
Chur and Tiefenkasten, the horses break into a
trot, and in a short time the town of Lenz is reached.
Here less snow is found, the sledges grind over the
stones in the paved streets, and stop at the Post,
where a large yellow diligence stands, similar to that
left at Churwalden. A halt is made at- Lenz for
luncheon, and the traveller is ushered upstairs to a
room, in which stands a long table with two places
laid at one end of it.
" For whom is the second place ? " wonders our
friend. Switzerland is a Republic, and we are con-
stantly reminded of that fact in various ways. One
man is as good as another here — or a great deal
better, as the conductor of the diligence, who now
strides in, no doubt thinks, judging from the
patronizing way in which he nods to our countr\'-
man, and, seating himself opposite^ passes the veal-
cutlets after first helping himself ! A kindly, brave
man he is, all the same^ and, when battling with a
snowstorm on an Alpine Pass_, the weary and half
High Life and Toivcrs of Silence. 7
frozen travellers, who may be with him, will certainly
find it out.
The somewhat greasy and comfortless meal
concluded, the journey is resumed once more, this
time on wheels. A steep descent leads to Tiefen-
kasten, where those who find the drive from Chur
to the Engadine too long for one day, sometimes
spend the night. Tiefenkasten is a Roman Catholic
village, and an inspection of the church will repay
those who have not already visited similar places
of worship in out-of-the-way parts of Switzerland.
At the gate leading to the church, to right and left,
are two small chapels. Looking through the bars
of the gate closing the entrance of that to the
right, we see a figure resembling those carried in
procession on the festival of Corpus Christi, in
Roman Catholic districts. This figure is of white
plaster, and kneeling around it are numerous other
figures carved in brown wood, which look sorrowfully
towards the recumbent figure in their midst. An
altar stands behind, and above it a statue of the
Virgin and Child. All the figures are nearly life-
size, and, in spite of the roughness of the work-
manship and the neglected state of the chapel, the
8 High Life and Toiucrs of Silence.
sight is much more impressive than would be
imiagined. In the other chapel, on the left of the
gateway, is kept the collection of skulls and bones,
found in all the parishes of this district. They are
piled up on the floor, and numbered. An altar
also stands in this chapel with two large figures
above it ; one of these is in brown wood, and repre-
sents a soul in torments, with its hands clasped
and flames rising around it. The other, which is in
plaster and coloured, is intended for the Virgin
Mary, who turns away from the imploring figure at
her side. The church itself does not contain much
of interest, though, if visited early in the morning,
the stranger will no doubt notice the fine effect
produced by the sun shining through the two upper
windows at the east end.
Leaving Tiefenkasten, the road mounts steadily
to Miihlen, and again the tedious process of trans-
ferring the luggage from the wheeled vehicle to
the sledge is performed. The traveller is glad to
find that the conductor, who will drive his sledge,
is to be his only companion, while the luggage is
in charge of the driver. Within the last two years
a closed sledge crosses the Julier Pass in winter
High Life and Toiucrs of Silence. 9
when the road is in good order, but on windy days,
and after fresh snow, small open sledges must be
used.
The conductor has many tales of adventure, which
he much enjoys relating. He tells how, on stormy
days in winter, he has crossed the Albula or Fluela
passes, famous for their avalanches. He describes
the difficulties of advancing against the raging
wind, which sweeps up the powdery snow and
dashes it furiously into the eyes of horses and
travellers, while the poor animals flounder in the
drifts which completely cover the track. Some-
times, in spite of the skill of the driver, the
sledge slips over the side of the track and down
the slope. In this case it is a matter of time and
difficulty once more to regain the road, but, with
the aid of the roadmen, who accompany the post
in bad weather, it is at length accomplished.
Again, it is not unfrequent to come upon a huge
avalanche which has fallen a short time previously
and completely blocked the track. The only thing
to be done, under these circumstances, is to wait for
the coming of the diligence from the other side. On
its arrival, the luggage is lifted over the mass of
lo High Life and Towers of Silenee.
snow, the travellers scramble across after it, and
each conveyance returns to the point from which it
started.
With manv such excitincf tales, made none the
less thrilling by constant repetition (in fact, the size
of an avalanche will grow till one wonders that
the end of it does not reach Chur), the time is whiled
away, the last dull slopes mounted and the dreary
summit of the Pass reached.
When crossing this Pass a couple of years ago I
was much entertained by hearing the conductor
relate how an Englishwoman had been nearly killed,
a month or two previously, in company with a
German and two guides, while ascending Piz
Julier, the fine peak rising upwards of ii,ooo feet
above the sea, to the left of the Pass when it is
approached from Chur.
While the post halts at the dingy little inn on
the Pass, and during the time passed by the
traveller in trying to swallow some most unin-
viting coffee, and by the horses in nibbling the
hard, black bread of the country, let me briefly
describe our ascent of Piz Julier (for I was the
Englishwoman spoken of by the conductor). Had
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence. 1 1
some of us been killed_, the narrative would, no
doubt, have much increased in interest; but as we
certainly were in peril of our lives, it is the next
best thing to having lost them, so far as supplying
a point for this story is concerned.
I had been told that, up to the time of our
excursion, Piz Julier had not been ascended in
winter, but I learnt afterwards that a party had
been up it some years before at that season, and
were, for a considerable time, in much danger from
avalanches.
A few words before I relate our experiences on
Piz Julier, with regard to our choice of guides.
At the beginning of January in that same year
I wished to ascend Piz Roseg. Hans Grass of
Pontresina would have been willing to accompany
me, and 1 much regretted that an injury to his
knee, which he had sustained the previous summer,
rendered it impossible for him to undertake so
long an excursion.
His nephew. Christian, would also have gladly
joined our party, but, unfortunately, he was then at
Davos, fulfilling the less exciting duties of con-
cierge to the Buol Hotel.
12 High Life and Towei's of Silence,
All the other Pontresina guides refused to climb
in winter, fearing to risk their precious necks and
unintelligent heads at that season. I received
plenty of letters from some of them, who at first
decided to go, but excused themselves at the last
moment, containing elaborate references to ava-
lanches, frost-bites, wives, and children.
When, therefore, I realized the scarceness of
stout hearts in Pontresina, I telegraphed for my
guide from Chamonix, Edouard Cupelin, and find-
ing two St. Moritz men, Colani and Schocher by
name, who were willing to accompany us^ we
made the ascent on the nth of January, 1884, of
the Schneekuppe of Piz Roseg. The weather
broke immediately afterwards, so Cupelin returned
home.
About ten days later I started with a German
friend and the same two local guides, for Piz
Julier. We left St. Moritz at 5 a.m. in a sledge,
drove to within three-quarters of an hour of the
Julier Pass, and, alighting, began the ascent of
some toilsome, snow-covered slopes, subsiding
every few minutes into concealed rhododendron
bushes and holes, which had formed between
High Life and Towe7's of Silence. i
J
boulders. Our progress was slow, but we were
steadily rising, and distant summits came, one by
one, into view, for the day was cloudless and the
sky free from all haze. At last, after mounting a
gully, in which the snow was soft and powdery,
and ready to slide away at an}' moment in a hissing
stream, we emerged at the commencement of a
rather steep and wide spur. I must now describe,
as minutely as possible, the position in which we
found ourselves.
Schocher, who led, was standing at the base of
a snow- slope, the width of which was perhaps
twenty feet. I was by his side, and Colani a {^\n
feet to the left, while my German friend, Air. H.,
was still in the gully, up the last part of which he
was struggling with the snow nearly to his waist.
He was occasionally encouraged by a chuck of
the rope from Colani, which had the effect of
altogether upsetting his equilibrium and making
him more uncomfortable than ever. Behind
Schocher and me, and about four feet from us, a
precipice fell away to a depth of 300 feet or more,
and, on our right, was a very steep gull}-, while, to
our left, was the passage up which we had come.
14 High Life and Towe^^s of Silence.
We were thus on a small and sloping bracket,
waiting for Mr. H., and watching his progress,
when an ominous crack made us all glance
quickly upwards. " The Avalanche ! " Colani ex-
claimed. At that instant we saw a long and ever-
widening slit high above us across the snow, and,
immediately afterwards, felt a heavy pressure
against our knees. Instinctively we leant with
all our weight on our axes. It cannot have been
more than a second or two, yet it seemed ages
till a roar from below like thunder told us that the
avalanche had split longitudinally, and that the
greater part of it had dashed down the gully to
our right. The rest lay round us in blocks, show-
ing the thickness of the crust, which had fairly
peeled off the slope to a depth of several feet.
Colani was trembling and looked as if he could
hardly stand ; Schocher was cool and composed,
and stood quietly waiting for orders; Mr. H. was
just emerging with one final plunge from his
gully, and wanting to know "what was that noise,"
and if anything was the matter. We were tied
to a rope ninety feet in length. Detaching our-
selves, we told Schocher carefully to mount the
High Life and Towers of Silence, 15
slope and anchor himself to the rocks above.
Much of the snow above the place where it had
cracked, was still undisturbed, and one person,
moving through it, was less likely to bring it down
than if we had all gone together. Besides, even if
some of it did get dislodged, we could ' quickly
draw in the rope and prevent Schocher from being
carried down far with it. He reached the rocks
in safety, and we joined him, one by one, holding
the rope, which stretched from him to us. P'rom
the rocks we reached the summit without further
difficulty in about half an hour.
The view was magnificent. Monte Rosa, pink
in the far distance, was perfectly defined with
its line of well-remembered peaks, and range
after range of familiar mountains could be seen.
The air was warm and still ; but on Piz Corvatsch
we could see the snow blown in clouds by the
wind, and we felt sure that a party of friends who
were then ascending that peak, must be suffering
greatly from the cold, as, indeed, on our return, we
heard had been the case. From St. Moritz we
knew that a telescope was directed towards us,
and that our arrival on Piz Julier had been already
1 6 High Life and Towers of Silence.
observed. While having luncheon, we held a
solemn conclave to decide in what manner our
safe descent was to be accomplished. The result
of the deliberations of the party was something" to
this effect: " It's a hot day; two hours ago, when
it was cooler than it is now, we started an avalanche
on a slope which was not particularly steep. If we
begin to descend at once, in an hour or less we
shall reach the beginning of the gully filled with
powdery snow. The sun was off it when we came
up, but, by the time we reach it, it will have been
exposed to great heat for two hours, consequently
we are pretty sure to have an avalanche there.
What will be our wisest way of avoiding this danger
in the descent ? " All agreed that the one safe
course to pursue was to remain, as long as possible,
on the summit, and then, going down to the
beginning of the gully, wait till it had been suffi-
ciently long in the shade for the snovv to harden a
little.
I need not describe our descent. We followed
out our programme, and, at 5 p.m., when we
should have been at home had all gone well, we
began to go down the gully. At 8.30 p.m. we
High Life and Toiuc7'S of Silence. 17
reached the high-road. Our sledges had already
returned to St. Moritz. We had seen them as we
sat on the rocks, two black dots on the white road,
which, after waiting some hours, had slowly crawled
away. We found walking on a good road a very
pleasant change after stumbling through soft
snow and creeping down gullies by the light of a
candle in a bottle, which invariably contrived to
go out, just as one was engaged in taking a parti-
cularly long, and especially slippery, downward
step, causing one to pause in a cramped position
halfway, and the man below to miscalculate the
length of rope, and pull one down v/hile one
grasped one's axe more tightly, and prodded the
guide instead of the ice slope.
After walking along the road for some time, the
sound of bells was heard, and a rough sledge came
up. We accepted the driver's offer of a lift to
Silvaplana, and arranged ourselves as well as we
could on the primitive conveyance. Soon we
were gliding down the zigzags, but, at one of
the corners, the driver missed his way in the
darkness, and drove off the road. Over went the
sledge, and out we shot, up to our necks in the
C
1 8 High Life and Towers of Silence.
powdery snow. We scrambled out again, none
the worse for our tumble, but in a somewhat irri-
table frame of mind, and were vainly endeavouring
to remove some objectionable particles of snow,
which seemed inclined permanently to take up
their abode between our collars and our necks,
when a jingling of many bells was heard. The
new arrivals turned out to be a search-party from
St. Moritz, consisting of Herr Peter Badrutt, ot
the Kulm Hotel, and several guides. These good
people were determined to be ready for all emer-
gencies. They had long iron poles with hooks at
the ends, with which to poke for us in the ava-
lanches, and drag us out if discovered therein.
They had six bottles of brandy, with which to
restore us after the operation just mentioned.
They had yards upon yards of rope wherewith to
lower the party over precipices, with what object
it would be difficult to say. I believe also that
they had a fog-horn, and I am not sure that their
life-saving apparatus did not include a cornet,
belonging to a visitor at the Kulm, who was in
the habit of enlivening his neighbours with sweet
strains from that instrument. It would really ha\'e
High Life mid Towers of Silence. 19
been interesting to have heard the search-party
signalling to each other, and to have seen the
energy they would have displayed in poking their
iron poles into snow-drifts, and triumphantly pulling
out part of a rhododendron bush ! However, they
were very glad to see us safe and sound. At
1 1 p.m. we arrived at St. Moritz, and found many
of the household still up. Much anxiety had
been felt on our account. As we were seen on the
summit at an early hour in the day, our friends
expected our return between four and five o'clock
in the afternoon, and the delay seemed inexpli-
cable, except on the supposition that an accident
had happened to us.
But we must now go back to our traveller, who
is getting into his sledge on the Julier Pass. The
drive down-hill is very enjoyable after crawling uj)
from Miihlen. After a time he can see the road as
it winds below, and on it he notices a number of
black dots, moving quickly along. What can they
be ? He questions the conductor, and that indi-
vidual, who knows a word or two of English,
answers "toboggans." Our friend hopes that soon
they may overtake them, but, long before the post
C 2
20 High' Life and Towers of Silence,
reaches Silvaplana, the party of tobogganers are
already there, and when he next sees them, they
are tying their toboggans to the back of their
sledges, and are about to start for St. Moritz. In
an hour or less the post reaches that little village,
which is the traveller's destination. He is put
down at the post, and is soon following his lug-
gage, which is being pushed up on a sledge to the
Kulm.
te«l_^
K
.Si. -MUKMZ IM WINIER
High Life and Tourers of Silence. 21
CHAPTER 11.
TOURISTS AND OTHERS WHOM ONE MEETS.
Americans abroad — Paterfamilias interviews an intrepidc —
A party of Americans visit Mon*".anvert — They question
me about the Mer de Glace — Preparations for crossincr
the glacier — Americans at the Grands Mulets — I am
warned not to ascend Mont Blanc — The kindly but
tactless person — The stingy and mean person — The
unsnubbable person — The elderly spinster — The person
who always likes to be learning something — The '* per-
sonally conducted " — The two species of lady climbers
— The German who vindicates the honour of his country
— The intelligent German — The German who speaks a
little English — The .spiritual and medical advisers — ■
Influence of resident doctors over their patients —
Spring quarters — Seewis.
During the winter, in such of the Swiss hotels
and pensions as are frequented at that season, we
meet, as a rule, only the health-seeking portion of
our countrymen and of other nations, but in sum-
mer the tourist class may be studied at leisure.
2 2 High Life and Toiuo^s of Silence.
As we stand on the long balcony which runs
round two sides of the Angleterre at Chamonix,
the conversation of a party of typical Americans
may often be heard. It is not unfrequently in this
style.
Paterfamilias, standing with his hands in his
poclcets surveying the view, observes that Mount
Blank does not look so tall as he expected.
" Tall ! " cries the eldest hope of that family, " I
should think not ! Why I could go to the top in
two hours ! "
Paterfamilias here remarks that the person at
the other end of the balcony, who Is receiving such
glances of admiration from the female portion of
the company, in consequence of his recent feat of
having his limp form pulled to the summit of the
mountain in question, has informed him that " one
must sleep at the Grand Mullets on the way."
"You mean the Grand Mulcys, don't you, sir?"
says a youth from 'Igh 'Ackney who considers
himself to be of an intelligent turn of mind, and
who does not object to impart some of his culture
to others.
" Stranger ! " Paterfamilias exclaims, " I always
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence. 2-*
o
mean what I say ; and if I remark that you arc
an impertinent Britisher, I mean it ! "
The youth is diminutive and weak-looking. He
scowls darkly at the well-built American, and ob-
serving, " I fail to comprehend your allusion ! "
retires from the contest.
" I thought I'd sampled /livi I " says Pater-
familias complacently, as he saunters along the
balcony and seats himself beside the hero of the
hour.
'^ Now, tell me, sir/' he asks, " is there a good
hotel on the top of Mount Blank ? "
The intrcpide replies with ill-disguised scorn,
that not only is there no building of any
sort on the summit, but that the so-called inn of
the Grands Mulcts is a miserable hovel ; that, after
spending the night there, you must start in the
dark with a lantern, climbing over mile after mile
of snow, and that, by the time you hav^e been
hauled up the Bosses, have reached the summit
and have retraced your steps to Chamonix, you
are in a condition of such extreme exhaustion,
that even the roar of the seven-inch long cannons
which are fired in your honour as you proudly
24 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
enter the hotel, hardly suffices to revive you. The
American is deeply impressed by this account, and
exclaims, " Sir ! allow me to shake the hand of so
courageous a mountaineer ! " which request is
promptly complied with, and if the ascenseur (I
cannot call him a climber), is of a particularl}'
generous turn of mind, perhaps a dirty bit of rag
torn from a flag, placed on the summit a few days
previously, is offered and gratefully accepted.
See this same family next morning as thc)- wend
their way on a string of mules towards what they
are pleased to call Mount Vert. I remember once,
when I was staying there, witnessing the arrival
of -such a party. I was having my luncheon at a
little table in a distant part of the dining-room,
when they entered it, and, after ordering something
to eat, they began to look round tliem. I was
both surprised and puzzled to find that, after a few
minutes, their glances were unmistakably and
exclusively directed towards my corner, and much
whispering went on, of which I was evidcntl)" the
subject. Presently, one of the ladies of the party
appeared to take upon herself the weight of a
heavy responsibility, for, amid the approving nods
High Life and Towers of Silence, '»
-D
of her friends, she came across the room to where
I was sitting", and addressed me as follows : —
^' Madam, will you be so very kind as to inform
me if vou have made your face as it is now bv
crossing the^/<^^/Vr this morning ? Because, if our
faces are likely to get so blistered and burnt. I
p:uess we won't 2:0 over ! "
I replied that I had blistered my face on the
Dent du Geant the day before ; whereupon, my
questioner wanted to know if that was as bad as
the Mer de Glace, and if I thought that if she and
her sisters wore three gauze veils, one over the
other, their complexions would escape. I fancy
that they completely exhausted the supply of veils
at the Montanvert bazaar, for, \\\ default of a large
enough stock of dark blue, all colours were called
into requisition, the temporary disfigurement of
appearing in an apple-green veil over two others
of blue and yellow (the latter suspiciously like a
promoted butterfly net), being as nothing when
compared to the horror of having to appear at
table cChote with a skin like mine.
On reaching the edge of the glacier, an individual
with a stock of woollen socks, of broken English
26 H^K^^^ L^f^ <^^^^ Tozuers of Silence,
and of insinuating manners, is generally to be
found. He marks out the confiding party of
Americans as his prey, and hastens to tell them
that, unless they each put on a pair of woollen socks
over their boots, they must certainly fall during
the slippery passage of the Mer de Glace. He
appeals to the guides who may, or may not, be his
relations, and these worthies invariably return the
answer, which they keep for occasions when the
question arises as to the spending or not spending
of a certain number of francs, that " it is certainly
more prudent." Thereupon, the tourists sit down
in a row, and have their boots covered with grey
woollen socks, which will, by the time they reach
the Chapeau, be hanging in draggled fringes all
round their high-heeled French boots. On arriving
at that little inn, they have a long inscription burnt
into their alpenstocks as a record of their travels,
and I heard an American, on one occasion, giving
minute directions for the words '^ London " and
" Paris " to head the list.
I recollect another amusing incident connected
with this nation. Several years ago, when staying
at Chamonix, I met three young Americans, who
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence.
intended making the ascent of ]\Iont Blanc. They
had done no walking previously, but they attached
no importance to that fact, and made their plans
for going up Mont Blanc, with all the certainty of
getting there, which they would have felt regarding
a walk to ]\Iontanvert, or over what they some-
times call " the Jemmy '' (Gemmi). They started in
high spirits one lovely morning in July, after giving
strict orders that the cannons were to be fired both
when they reached the summit, and on their return.
For the benefit of those of my readers who have
not assisted at this ceremony, I may here add that
each hotel has two or three very diminutive
cannons, which are fired by the respective porters,
who give a prod with a long stick, and then turn
and run, while a majestic puff, about the size of an
Qgg, is seen to emerge from the mouth of these
warlike machines, followed by a report resembling
that of a pistol.
I happened the next day to go up to the Grands
Mulcts, intending, on the day following, to ascend
IMont Blanc. A short time after arriving at the
hut, I was informed by ]\Iadame Tairraz that there
were three gentlemen in the next room who wished
2 8 High Life and Toiuers of Silence.
to speak to me, and that they were obliged to ask
me to come to them as they felt too ill to move. I
accordingly accompanied her into the adjoining
room, where I saw three prostrate formiS, stretched
on three mattresses, and recognized the three
aspiring Americans.
"Madam," said No. i, "we r(?;/sider it our duty
to warn you. We started from here this morning
to ascend Mount Blank. We walked over the snow
hour after hour. At length it began to get soft,
and we floundered along up to our waists. Our
guides pulled and pulled, and we struggled on for
ten weary hours. Then w^e asked our guides how
much further it was to the summit 1 They replied
that we were not yet at the Bosses. We asked
" what is the Bosses t " They answered by point-
ing upwards to a ridge, about as wide as the blade
of a knife, and about as steep as the side of a
house. We thereupon decided that our friends at
Chamonix would be very anxious if we did not
return in good time, so down we came, and here
we are. Madam," he continued, feebly thumping
the mattress with his fist ; " madam, no woman can
go up Mount Blank in all this fresh snow, or no
man either, as far as that goes ! ''
High Life and Towe7's of Silence. 29
I thanked the American, who was evidently fully
persuaded of the accuracy of his statements, sym-
pathized with him on his disappointment in not
reaching the top (though I daresay he did so by
the time he returned to America), and withdrew.
We sneaked through the village next evening to
avoid any well-meant salutations from the cannon,
and went up to Montanvert, so I did not see our
friends again.
Less clever and amusing than our American
cousins, but often affording considerable entertain-
ment, is the extraordinary medley of our own
country-folk whom we meet in Switzerland.
There is the kindly person — more often than not
a clergyman — who gets up parties of uncongenial
people, and despatches them on various excursions
for which about half of them are totally unfitted.
He says to A. : " There is B., who is going to
the Jardin to-morrow ; why don't you go with
him ? " "I don't know Mr. B.," replies A. " Then
I'll introduce you. Here, ]\Ir. B., is Mr. A., who
wants to go to the Jardin to-morrow ; you could
make the excursion very pleasantly together ! "
The two men smile a ghastly smile, but there is no
way out of it, so A., who weighs eighteen stone
30 High Life and Towers of Silence.
suffers from his heart, and likes to take his
time over a walk, and B., who has already had a
month in Switzerland, is in first-rate training,
and is also most anxious to be home in time
for dinner, so that he may take pretty Miss C. and
her mamma for a walk afterwards, are linked
together, and a day's pleasure has many a fetter
fastened to it for which neither of the party bless
their kind old friend in their inmost hearts.
Then there is the stingy and mean person who,
when asked if he will pay for his guide's lunch at
Montanvert, invariably answers that he's not going
to be cheated into paying what it's not his duty to
pay. When taking a room at the Hotel Mont
Cervin at Zermatt, he informs Mr. Seiler that he
will have to go to another hotel, if he does not
get it for less, and sometimes does try the other
hotels, to the secret merriment of Seiler, who
owns them all. This person occasionally dis-
tributes copies of " The British IVorhma/i^' to mule-
drivers and others instead of tips, thus arousing
evil passions in the hearts of the recipients, but a
sense of good works and economy in his own.
He furtively takes rolls from the breakfast- table
High Life and Towel's of Silence. 31
and puts them in his pocket, where, possibly, thc\'
assimilate with a collection of candle-ends from
the last hotel, and, when the passages are heated,
leaves his door open with the hope of exchanging,
without paying for it, the cold air in his room for
the warm air outside.
We have all encountered the unsnubbable person,
but this individual is met w^ith so constantlv in all
countries, and in every class of society, that he is
but too familiar an object to us, and our only wish
is to avoid and forget him.
Then there is the elderly spinster who makes a
point of bringing all her oldest garments to
Switzerland. She does not mind how unsuitable
they may be for travelling. She will boldl)' mount
a mule in a dress of some thin, flimsy material,
trimmed with lace more or less white. When she
gets down, she leaves a portion of this garment on
the pommel, and various fringes and threads from
the lace may be discovered on the rocks of the
Mauvais Pas after she has crossed it. Her old kid
gloves have no tops to the fingers, and the artificial
flowers in her hat are weatherbeaten by man\- a
storm. She always wears a bonnet on Sunda}-s
3 2 High L ife and Tozuers of Si fence.
and a mantle from which the greater part of the jet
beads, with which it was trimmed, have disappeared.
Then there is the person who is ahvays trying
to accumulate masses of information, which is of
no use to him, as he never either makes notes of it
or remembers it. Every one he meets must answer
as many questions as he can manage to ask during
the conversation. What is the name of that river ?
Where does it go to? How long is it? How
deep is it? Is it spring or glacier water? Are
there many fish in it ? What fish ? Does one get
them at table d'Jiote ? Is one allowed to catch
them ? W'hat must one use to catch them with ?
Are they large or small ? and so on, without end.
W^e also meet the party of English or Americans,
who are "personally conducted ^' by an agent of
Messrs. Cook or Gaze. This flock is renowned for
its absolute helplessness. None of the troop speak
a word of any language but their own, so they are
continually worrying their unhappy conductor to
translate \'arious notices of no possible interest to
them, and he is driven nearly wild by their
perpetual requests for small change and their com-
plaints as to their accommodation.
High Life a)id Towers of Si le nee. 33
" Mr. Smith," says a damsel from across ' The
Herring-pond,' "will you lend me twenty-five cen-
times? I've forgotten my purse." Mr. Smith is
just in the act of arranging for the thirty-three
mules, which he has chartered for the day, and
settling the knotty point as to the just amount to
be distributed in tips to the various mule drivers.
He hands her the twenty-five centimes, and takes
out with a groan, for about the fiftieth time that
day, his bulky note-book. Hardly has he finished
entering her debt into it than an elderly spinster of
forbidding aspect marches up to him. His heart
sinks, for he sees trouble ahead. " Mr. Smith,"
she begins, " I must beg of you not to have me
placed at dinner this evening next to Miss A., and
I wish to inform you that I will never go on ex-
cursions in the same carriage with that young
person. If I were you, Mr. Smith, I should con-
sider it my duty to remonstrate with her on her
flippant behaviour yesterday morning ; wh\', I
heard her askincT Mr. B. to come over and sit bv
her at meals, because she felt sure he was terribly
bored by the old frump next him. He sits between
me and Mrs. C." (a very popular and comfortable
D
34 H^S^^ ^^fo ^^^^ Towers of Silence.
looking old lady), "so I suppose she meant her,
which was very ungrateful of the pert little thing,
for ]\Irs. C. has always been friendly to her. Yes,
Mr. Smith, it is clearly your duty, for the credit of
Mr. Cook's tours, to speak your mind to Miss A."
Mr. Smith shudders. He has a sneaking admi-
ration for ]Miss A., though her sharp tongue, com-
bined with her pretty face, gets him not un frequently
into trouble. He informs Mrs. C. that he will not
throw her and 3>Iiss A. more into each other's
society than he can help, and he hurries off to see
why Mr. D. is beckoning to him with such
energy.
" ]\Ir. Smith, come here ! Now, do tell this man
that I won't be cheated! I've told him that he's
asking twice too much for this stick, and I'm sure
it's not a real chamois' horn at the top, is it .^
Please get it for me at a reasonable price, and
tell him that I'll never buy anything from him
again ! "
I could fill pages with such conversations, heard
day after day in front of the ]\Iontanvert and the
Angleterrc, at Chamonix, but I fear to become as
tedious to my readeis as the majority of the per-
High Life and Towers of Silence. 35
sonally conducted ones rapidly become to their
leader.
Again, we meet the lady climber, who
reaches the summits of her peaks, and is usually
favoured by the weather. And we meet the other
species of lady climber, who either sees the Italian
lakes from the summit of the Matterhorn, or
against whom all the winds of heaven are ranged,
and who encounters a gale, impossible to withstand,
on one part of the Weisshorn ridge, while another
party is basking in a hot sun and still air a little
higher up. This class comprises persons of vine-
gary temperament, given to having the tents in
which they sleep out blown away, and very critical
as to the achievements of other lady climbers, by
reason of the fact that they have failed to imitate
them. These persons generally find that the best
guides, with whom they have climbed once or
twice, are doing a wonderfully good business,
judging from their numerous engagements. One
of these would-be lady climbers may be heard
innocently expressing her surprise that there is not a
single first-rate guide disengaged for the next day.
" Have you tried so and so t " inquires a friend.
D 2
o
6 //4'/^ Z//d^ rt:;/^/ Toiuei's of Silence.
" Oh, yes," she answers; " he told me this morning
that he is engaged for to-morrow."
" Dear me ! that is vcr\' curious," remarks a
bystander, w^hose first season it is, but whose
activity and genial disposition are a delight to the
guides, " why I asked him not ten minutes ago if
he would ascend the Dom with me to-morrow, and
he said he would."
The lad}' climber is puzzled, but the truth sud-
denly flashes across the mind of the last speaker,
and he feels that he would be ^rlad to have with-
held his remark.
Perhaps some of us are familiar with the German,
who always vindicates the honour of his country,
whenever any remark, w hich he imagines to be
slightly uncomplimentar}', is made. Probabl}' his
comprehension of what has been said is exceedingly
incomplete, but he labours under the idea that the
" Vaterland " has been slightingl}' spoken of, and he
accordingly demands an apolog)-, and, if ver}- young
and of the student class, burns to add another to
the arra}' of scars with which his face is dishgured.
lie only gets laughed at, however, by ourcountr\'-
men, and I ha\e often wondered what would be the
result if an Englishman, skilled in boxing, proposed
High Life and To7uers of Silence, 57
to settle the dispute with his fists. But it is pleasant
to bear in mind the very charming specimens of
the German nation whom most of us, who have
travelled much, must have met No one can have
ever failed to enjoy the society of the cultivated and
intelligent Germans, who whilst speaking several
languages, unlike their less courteous countr\-men,
never correct or appear to notice the mistakes of
the foreigner who tries to talk to them in their own
tongue. Germans are most perse\'ering in their
attempts to speak English, and they generally
accept, with much good nature, the involuntary
smiles which some of their remarks cause.
Some years ago a German, who had been sent to
Davos for the winter, was asked why his doctor had
recommended the place to him. He much as-
tonished his questioner by replying, " I was sent
here for blood-shedding." In other words, he was
a hai^morrhage patient.
A German friend, wishing to convey to us the
information that some one in the village kept hens,
remarked, " She has the little chickens which make
eyes," and added, " I have by me always a basket
of eyes." '
^ German, Ei (egg), pronounced eye.
2,S High Life and Towers of Silence.
On another occasion our friend was telling us
some of his troubles, and it required all the self-
control, of which we were capable, to refrain from
smiling when he announced, in tones of much
distress, " I have lost five parents,'- and my father
mourned greatly/'
One day I was shopping at St. Moritz Bad, and,
on my observing to the woman at the Grand Bazaar,
who was serving me, that I supposed her shop was
closed in winter, she replied, " Oh, yes ; in winter
we always live upstairs." This answer seemed to
me somewhat irrelevant, but, when she went on to
tell me that she would soon open her shop up in
the village, I understood that" upstairs " meant St.
Moritz Dorf.
" I do not like Miss T., she keeps always her
nose upstairs," said my German friend to me one
day. A ;/^^r^^r^^/.yj/ was evidently a feature he did
not admire.
Those who have spent several months in any of
the winter Swiss health-resorts, such as St. IMoritz,
Davos, Maloya, W'iesen, Andermatt, or Montreux,
will at once think of two officials, usually to be
- French, parents (relations).
High Life and Tozvcrs of Silence. 39
met within such places, and often forminc^ a centre
for contending factions and cb'ques. I refer to the
medical and spiritual advisers. The medical ad-
viser is often a person of weak lungs, who cannot
reside in his own country, or he is an individual
whose stock of medical knowledge is not large
enough to bear distribution over anything but a very
limited colony, in this case he will probably not have
passed the Swiss examination, which is necessar}'
in order that he may have the right to practise.
He therefore merely exists on sufferance, having
obtained the permission of the local doctors to
practise for so long as they see fit. The answers
at the Swiss examination must be given in French
or German, an interpreter not being allowed ; but
it is said that the failures cannot generally be
attributed to a want of knowledge of either of these
languages. Possibly the examination is in itself
very difficult. The doctor may perhaps be a young
Swiss, working his way to fame, in which case
his residence will probably be short.
As he usuallv lives in the same hotel as his
patients, his influence over them is very great, and
it is by his advice that they ^o in spring to the
40 High L ife and Towers of Silence,
lakes of Geneva and Lucerne, or to Thusis, Ragaz,
Seewis, or Promontognio.
I must utter a protest against the very unwise
habit, which is not unfrequent, of medical men
sending their patients to places, which they have not
themselves visited. They judge these places merely
from their altitude above sea-level, and from their
position with regard to the neighbouring mountains;
these facts being mostly gathered from an exami-
nation of the map, from the pages of a guide-book,
or, worse still, from the ignorant chatter of irre-
sponsible persons, who are only too ready, after a
stay of twenty-four hours in a place, to give their
opinion upon its climate, and to advise their friends
to go there or not to go there, as the case may be.
These people, of course, know nothing of the wants
of delicate invalids, of the peculiarities of the climate,
regarding the Bise, Fohn, and other winds^ during
certain months of the year, and, possibly, though
they may be aware that an English chaplain re-
sides in the hotel, they can't remember whether
there is a doctor within one or ten miles' distance.
I have heard of people being sent to Soglio in early
spring, where but few of the rooms had stoves, to
High Life and Towers of Silence. 41
Chateau d'Oeux, where the accommodation was
miserable and the food atrocious ; to Alvenau Bad
when the hotel was still closed and the doctor
away ; and to other places, against which there
were quite as many objections. Therefore I would
impress on delicate people, as strongly as I can^ not
to consent to start on a wild-goose chase^ half
across Switzerland, without, first of all, having a
sound opinion from some disinterested person as to
the suitability of the health resort for which they are
bound.
It is, I know, a very sweeping thing to say, but
I may state, after much thought, that I shall be
surprised to know of any place so suitable for deli-
cate persons in the month of April, when the winds
in the heights are keen and the air in the plains is
damp, as Seewis, above the Prattigau. I am aware
that patients may hear that the food is bad there.
This assertion I must answer, in order to save time
and spare hotel-keepers' feelings by unpleasant
comparisons in order to get a standard to go by,
simply with a flat contradiction. What Seewis may
have been I know not. Of what it is, I can speak
from my own experience. I have tried Thusis,
42 High Life and Towers of Silence.
Les Avants, Gllon, Montreux, Chamonix, Meran,
Wiesen, Davos, and other places in the month of
April, and Seewis is by far the most suitable, owing
to its extremely sheltered situation, its position on
a steep slope 1200 feet above the Prattigau, and
3300 feet above the sea, and the shady walks
amongst the orchards, in which the lovely little
village is smothered. Seewis is reached in two
hours' drive from Landquart, the road turning off
at Pardisla from that which continues to Davos.
The scenery is beautiful, and walks and excursions,
suitable for those who can only saunter along, for a
few minutes at a time, on flat ground, and for the
robust, who will think nothing of the seven hours'
ascent of the Scesaplana, can be had in all
directions. Herr Hitz, of the Kurhaus, is a very
civil and attentive host.
WIESEN.
High Life and Towers of Silence. 4^
CHAPTER III.
THE DIAVOLEZZA IX WINTER WITHOUT GUIDES.
Morbid interest displayed by many people in accidents
which have terminated fatally — Works of Mr.
Whymper and Dr. Emile Zsigmondy — The danger of
small excursions undertaken without sufficient pre-
cautions — We set out for the Diavolezza — Bad snow —
Mr. S. suffers greatly from fatigue — The Pers glacier —
Darkness overtakes us — Mr. S. leads us through the
seracs — Tracks at last — A mauvais pas — We lose sight
of the tracks and Mr. S. feels very faint — He is almost
unable to walk — Two anxious hours — The foot of the
glacier is reached — We meet a relief-party at Pontresina.
The morbid interest which many people take, in
reading the details of fatal accidents, is especially
noticeable if we mention Mr. \\'hymper's charming
book, " The Ascent of the Matterhorn," to any
reader of that work, outside the circle of climbers.
The first remark usualh' made is, " What a
dreadful accident that was in which poor Lord
Francis Douglas was killed ! How wonderful the
44 ^K^^^ ^{/^ ^^^^ Towers of Silence.
description of it is ! " Then comes the old thread-
bare observations about the rope, followed by" Mr.
Whymper had a marvellous escape when he tumbled,
head foremost, down that place which there is such
a striking picture of!" The illustration of two
climbers ascending some rocks, and the third shoot-
ing down over the heads of the others, in Dr. Emile
Zsigmondy's " Les dangers des Montaignes," should
make the fortune of that work, amongst a certain
class, did not the pathetic circumstances under
which it was published, give it, in any case, a place
which is unique amongst books on climbing.
I have nothing tragic to offer to my readers, yet
some of my walks have ail but had fatal termina-
tions, so, perhaps, the recital of a few of them may
not be quite devoid of interest. On easy passes
and humble mountains the greatest risks have
been run by me, and, while ascending such peaks
as the Weisshorn or Dent du Gcant with safety,
I have nearly come to grief on Piz Julier, the Col
du Tour, and, deepest degradation of all, the
Stelvio !
Let me first relate the particulars of a most un-
comfortable day spent on the Diavolezza.
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence. 45
A year or two ago, I found m)'self at Pontrcsina.
It was winter, and the ugly moraine of the
jMorteratsch Glacier, as well as its gaping crevasses,
were deeply buried in snow. Any one walking over
the treacherous surface had but to step on one of
the \'ielding snow bridges, and the slender support
breaking away under the weight, he might easily
have been precipitated to unknown depths. There-
fore the danger to a single traveller was great,
but, if several persons were together, they could
use a rope and thus check the fall of any one of
them and walk in safety on the glacier.
I had crossed the pretty little Diavolezza pass
in summer, and, consequently, the way was familiar
to me. Some friends then staying at St. Moritz
were anxious to make the excursion with me, and
I very stupidly volunteered to accompan\' them as
guide. i\Iy companions were both apparently
strong men, one of them being the German who
had ascended the Julier with me, and the other an
Englishman, whom we will call Mr. S. We started
one cloudless morning, and, driving as far as tlie
Bernina Houses, left our convex'ance there, and,
loading ourselves with rope, knapsacks, and ice
46 High Life and Toiucrs of Silence.
axes, began to ascend the deeply-covered slopes of
snow.
Mr. S. soon found the walk very tiring, in
spite of the order of our progress, in which he
came last. The snow was nearly to our knees, and,
after a time, we gratefully welcomed some rocks,
which enabled us to mount with less fatigue. We
advanced very slowly. Mr. S. had often to stop
and rest, and it was a quarter past two o'clock by
the time we reached the summit of the pass. I
feared that Mr. S. was too tired to undertake the
long walk on the other side, so I urged our return
to the Bernina Houses. This would have been a
matter of an hour or so, as the tracks were now
made, and there were slopes down which we could
have glissaded. But after a rest, Mr. S. felt him-
self again, and, his pluck overcoming his discretion,
he insisted on our continuing our route as we had
originally intended.
A short and steep descent brought us to the
level of the Pers Glacier, which, at this point, must
be crossed to a rock, between it and the Morteratsch
Glacier, called the Isla Pers. We tied ourselves
together, and I took the lead, ]\Ir. S. came next,
and Mr. H. was last on the rope. The snow was
High Life and Tourers of Silence, 47
extremely soft, and, at every step, I carefully
sounded with my axe, sometimes uncovering
ghastly looking chasms, into the blue depths of
which one peered without seeing the bottom.
Great caution was necessary, and we had to zigzag
in order to cross the crevasses transverseh', as,
otherwise, the whole party might have broken into
one at the same time. At last we scrambled on to
the rocks of Isla Pers. It was beginning to get
dusk, and, by the time we had glissaded to the
level of the Morteratsch Glacier, the light had
almost failed. I was much annoyed with myself
for being unprovided with a lantern, an omission
which had, once before, obliged me to spend a night
on the snow, at a height of 11,000 feet on the
Grandes Jorasses. But regrets were useless. We
hurried on. Twenty minutes brought us to the
seracs, child's play in summer, but most formid-
able under the conditions in which we found them.
I may here explain that seracs are pinnacles of
ice, generally separated from each other b\' pro-
found crevasses. As I paused an instant to try and
discover the best place for forcing a way through
them, ]\Ir. S. asked, —
" Do you know this part of the glacier well ?"
48 High Life and Towers of Silence.
" No," I replied, '' I have been here once before
in summer, and I walked with }ou and Mr. H., a
few days ago, fcr a little distance amongst the
seracs."
" Then may I lead, as I have often been as far
as this ?" inquired Mr. S.
I answered that I should be delighted if he
would try and get us out of the labyrinth in which
we found ourselves.
I undid the rope and tied myself in Mr. S.'s
loop, and, giving the cord a twist round my axe,
we started.
Soon Mr. S. called " Hold tight here ! we are
near the Grand Moulin ! " ^ I planted my axe
deeply in the snow, and let out the rope, inch by
inch, while our leader felt his way cautiously down
a steep slope.
" All right ! we have passed it ! you can come !"
he cried presently, and I advanced, held in my
turn by Mr. H. To my right, about three feet
^ A moulin, or glacier mill, is a shaft in the ice, hollowed
out by falling water. An unroped person, falling into a
moulin, would be almost certain to lose his life, and, even if
he were roped, it would require much strength to pull him
up, the walls of the moulin being so smoothly polished.
High Life and Tou^^rs of Silence. 49
from mc, I could just discern, through the gloom, a
large' gaping hole, in which, far down, water
eurq-led. We had been on the look-out for this
moulin for some time, and were glad to have found
it. We were now sure that we were walkincr in
the right direction. An hour passed, and then
Mr. S. stopped. '* This is becoming serious," he
said, " we don't seem to be advancing at all, and I
feel my strength failing me." It had indeed been
weary work both for mind and bod\', and crj-eat
was my relief, on stooping down to examine some-
thing which had attracted my attention, to find that
it was a line of tracks running parallel to our route.
" Look ! " I exclaimed, *' here are tracks I our
tracks of four days ago when we picnicked on the
glacier I We are all right now."
Alas ! We little knew that, in an hour or so, a
more serious danger than any we had encountered
that day would have to be faced !
But first there was a niauvais pas to be got over,
which had given us some trouble even in da\'light.
It consisted in a narrow ridge of ice, which ran for
ten or twelve feet, between deep crevasses. At its
termination a jump had to be made over a wide
E
50 High Life and Towers of Silence.
chasm. We were now approaching this ridge
and anxiously looking out for it. At last we
reached it, and, sitting down, I paid out the rope to
Mr. S., whose axe at once fell to work in the con-
struction of some new steps, our footholds of a few
days before having melted away. The other end of
the ridge was a mere knife-edge, and, as he neared
it, I had to support him as well as I could with the
rope, for it was not easy for him to preserve his
balance while he worked. After twenty minutes or
so he called, " Advance close to me and give me all
the rope you can, I must jump." I joined him, let
out all the rope possible and off he went in the
darkness, coming down with a heavy thud on the
other side of the crevasse. Mr. H. then advanced
to my side, and, on hearing Mr. S.'s cheering remark,
" There's plenty of room over here ! " I sprang
with all my strength in the direction in which Mr.
S. had taken his departure and came down, buried
nearly up to my neck in soft snow. Then Mr. H.
performed an acrobatic feat resembling ours, and
we felt that the rest of our route would be plain
sailing, a delusion from which we were destined
speedily to recover.
High Life and Toz^'crs of Silence. 51
After walking" for about ten minutes, it seemed
to me that we were bearing- too much to the right.
"Are you sure that this is the right way," I inquired.
"Well, no," replied Mr. S., "the fact is I am so
tired that I feel quite stupid."
I went up to him, and, in truth, he seemed far
from well. Some brandy from Mr. H.'s flask-
revived him a little, and then we changed places
and I took the lead. First I returned for a short
distance in our tracks, then bore away to the left.
Our old footmarks were evidently obliterated, for
we lost sight of them soon after emerging from the
seracs.
After a little time, Mr. S.'s strength again forsook
him, and he sat down on a stone, saying that he felt
very faint. The remains of the brand)' did him good,
but there was still a long distance to be traversed,
before we could hope to be clear of the glacier.
I hastily reviewed the situation in my mind.
If our poor friend were to faint, Mr. H. would
have to remain with him while I went for help. If I
accomplished my walk down the snow-covered
glacier without falling into a crevasse, and reached
Pontrcsina alive, it would still be six hours at least
E 2
52 High Life and Towers of Silence,
before a relief-party could join those left on the
glacier, and, by that time Mr. S. might be frozen,
owing to his helpless condition and inability to
keep himself warm with exercise. One thing only
could be done for the time being. We placed
ourselves on either side of Mr. S., giving him our
arms. Then, carefully prodding the snow at every
step, we slowly advanced. I need not dwell on
our frequent halts, and our great fear lest Mr. S.
should fall in a faint on the snow ; but it will easily
be understood how terribly anxious we were during
the next two hours, till, finally, we realized that the
danger was over and the end of the glacier all but
reached.
It was 1 1 p.m., when, at length, we cast ourselves
on the snow, and rested our weary limbs in one good
slide, which landed us amongst the stones at the
foot of the glacier. We made the best of our way
towards the restaurant, and were overjoyed to see a
light, shining through the trees beyond the little
inn. It turned out to be the lamp of a conveyance
sent from Pontresina to wait for us.
As we drove into the village, lanterns could be
seen flitting to and fro, and, emerging from the door
High L ife and Tozuers of Silence. 5
->
of the Krone, was Hans Grass, followed by several
other guides, who were laden with coils of rope,
shov^els, provisions, and other necessaries for our
rescue. Very hospitable did the shelter of the
hotel seem, after our prolonged excursion, and warm
was the welcome which we received from our friends,
who had been very anxious about us, and who still
believed that we risked our necks on that occasion,
in spite of the naive remark, with which Mr. H.
attempted to reassure them that "there was no
danger, all the crevasses were covered with snow ! "'
54 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
CHArTER IV.
THE STELVIO UNDER SNOW.
Our plans for the Ortler district — We start for Santa
Catarina — A fair porter — The hotel is closed — Our
porter conducts us to a small inn of uninviting appear-
ance — Cupelin's three pieces of information — We are
driven back to Bormio by bad weather — We decide to
reach Tyrol by the Stelvio — We take a carriage and are
joined by two Germans who are going our way —
Cupelin's treasures — The fourth cantoniere — The car-
riage can go no further — Difficulty in procuring porters
— We speak our mind — At last we get under weigh —
Our German companions — I am forced to make the
tracks — My maid faints, and my hands are frost-bitten
— Preparations for spending the night on the Stelvio —
A primitive lodging — Cupelin cuts up the staircase for
firewood.
I WAS staying at Bormio, in northern Italy, and
wished to do a Httle climbing in the Ortler group
High Life and Tcivcrs of Silence, 55
before going to Meran. It was late in autumn,
and the snow had already crept down the hills
and approached the valleys. My guide, Edouard
Cupelin, of Chamonix, joined me at the Bagni
Nuovi at Bormio, and our plans were as follows.
He and I were to go to Santa iMaria, and to sleep
there, and, meeting a guide previously ordered
from Sulden, to cross a pass with him into the
Suldenthal. On arriving there, we intended to
ascend the Ortler, and as many of the other peaks
in that district as the weather would give us time
for. Meanwhile, both maid and luggage were to
cross the Stelvio in the diligence and join me at
Sulden.
The weather was unsettled, not bad enough to
lead us to think that it would not be fine next
day, and not fine enough to make our minds easy
as to the result of a start. However, we had often
set out for excursions in worse weather, and found
it improve afterwards, so we decided to start for
Santa Catarina on the day after my guide's arrival.
The afternoon following that on which Cupelin
joined me we took a carriage, and provided our-
selves with a cold turkey, a tin of soup, some
56 High Life and Toiuers of Silence,
potted meat, a bottle of Marsala, and one of
chapagne. W^e were thus to a certain extent
independent of the resources of Santa Catarina,
and the quantity and quality of our provisions is
noteworthy, as they afterwards played- a leading-
part in the performance, into the details of which
I shall presently enter.
Half an hour after quitting- the town of Bormio,
the road suddenly came to an end. A large slice
of it had been washed down by the recent rains, and
it was quite impossible for the carriage to advance
an}' further.
" We must find a porter, and walk," observed
my guide. The driver looked about, and, at length,
hailed a girl who was coming up the valley, with an
empty basket on her back. She was young, and
slight, and pretty, and I was much surprised at
the immense weight she carried without the least
apparent eftbrt. All the provisions and m\' knap-
sack, were placed in her basket, and she insisted on
taking the rope also. When she began to walk
she went so quickly that we were obliged to beg
her to go slower. When I say " beg," I refer to
the various signs which we made to convey our
High Life and Toilers of Silence. 57
wishes to her, for she spoke only Italian, and wc
did not understand a word of that language. On
arriving at Santa Catarina, we found, as we had
feared would be the case, that the hotel was already
closed, so we proceeded to hunt for a lodging in
the village. We twisted our faces and our hands
into many contortions, indicative of our wants, and
Cupelin assailed our porteress with a torrent of
Chamonix/<7/^/j. She seemed to understand what
we were looking for and signed to us to follow her.
After a short time she stopped before a grimy-
looking cottage, and called. At the sound a
number of chickens emerged from the door, then
a pig, and finally the landlady, for this was an inn !
She nodded with a cheering air of comprehen-
sion, when Cupelin dangled first a knapsack and
then a rope and axe, before her eyes, typical of a
night's lodging and departure on the morrow across
the mountains. We followed her across the street
to what looked like a loft, but was, in reality, the
dcpcndance of the hotel.
The room assigned to me was far superior to
what I had dared to hope for, so I installed myself,
and sent out Cupelin to explore, and see if he
^S High Life and Towa^s of Silence.
could find the guide from Sulden. In an hour
he returned with three pieces of information. First,
that the man from Sulden had not arrived, but
that another guide could be obtained, if required.
Secondly, that the weather was as bad as it could
possibly be; and thirdly, that there was not a
single soul in the village who could speak any
language excepting Italian. He said that he had
given vent to his ideas freely in his native patois
with admirable effect.
Next morning, at 5 a.m., Cupelin knocked at
my door, saying that the rain continued to fall
steadily, and that, whenever the mist lifted, the
hills could be seen heavily covered with fresh
snow. Clearly there was no chance of our being
able to cross to Sulden that day, and it seemed
very probable that the weather on the day follow-
ing would be just as bad. A stay at Santa Cata-
rina at that time of year, and in a dense fog, did
not possess many charms, and, as even the amuse-
ment of sitting in a room which was salle a ina)iger,
kitchen, and poultry-yard all in one, might pall
after a time, we determined to tear ourselves away
from our luxurious surroundings and return to
HioJi Life and Tourers of Silence. 59
Bormio. Packing up the remains of our provi-
sions and our other possessions, we started for our
muddy walk down the valley through the drizzling
rain.
Arrived at Bormio, we discussed the advisability
of remaining there till the weather should improve,
or of going over the Stelvio at once to ]\Ieran,
and hoping for better things in Tyrol. A decided
brightening of the heavens made us finally decide
on the latter course, and then, having settled that
we were to cross the Stelvio, the question arose as
to how it was to be accomplished. The diligence
had ceased to run for a week or more, though, till
then, this piece of information had not leaked out,
and vague rumours were current that there were
five feet of snow on the summit of this, the highest
pass in Europe crossed by a carriage-road. How-
ever, the landlord promised to give us a carriage,
which he thought would be able to reach the top of
the pass, and, once there, we could walk down the
other side. Had Cupelin and I been alone, we
should have done the whole journey on foot, but
the maid and luggage had to be considered, and it
was inconvenient to send them by the long round
6o High Life and Towers of Silence,
via Colico, Como, Milan, and Verona, the diligences,
which take the shorter route, having all stopped
running, owing to the fearful state of the roads, in
consequence of the heavy rains. I gave my maid
the choice of accompanying me over the Stelvio or
going round, and as she much preferred the former,
and was strong, I had no hesitation in allowing
her to do as she wished.
I therefore sent all the luggage by grandc
vitesscy via Milan, except two small portmanteaus_,
which a couple of porters would be able to carry
for us from the pass to Trafoi, and at Trafoi,
another carriage could be had. Our plans stood
thus when the dinner-bell rang.
There were two Germans dining at table d'hote,
the only visitors remaining in the hotel. They
had been waiting for some time to cross the Stelvio,
so I suggested that we should all travel over
together, as a strong party would be an advantage.
The landlord engaged to supply us with a com-
fortable carriage, drawn by four horses, and the
driver was to have orders to go as far as ever he
could. Cupelin had carefully treasured up the
wine and tinned meat, and he also foraged in our
High Life and Towers of Silence, 6i
rooms for candle-ends, which were articles to which
he attached much value. Cupelin's habit of hoarding
up what, at the time, often seemed useless rubbish,
frequently stood us in good stead, but seldom
more so than during the next twenty- four hours.
The morning broke grey and cloudy, but the
rain had ceased to fall, and as we slowly crawled
up the long windings of the road, we speculated
how soon the bleak, brown slopes would give
place to snow. The road began to be covered with
a thin sprinkling, soon after reaching the second
Cantoniere. On arriving at the third, the snow
began to ball a good deal on the wheels, and the
driver had often to get down and knock it off. A
short distance below the fourth Cantoniere (which
is the Italian Custom-house), it became impossible
for the vehicle to advance any further, so we
alighted and trudged through the deep, soft snow,
till we reached the very dirty and primitive inn.
The driver and Cupelin brought the luggage and
then returned for the horses. When we had
ordered something to eat, we inquired for porters
to carry our luggage over the pass to Trafoi. One
and all, they refused point-blank, in .spite of the
62 High Life and Towers of Silence.
eloquence of one of the Germans, who was the
only member of the party able to speak to them in
Italian. He asked them their reasons for declining
to accompany us. They replied that they were
afraid of avalanches. He then inquired if they
would go, at least, to the summit of the pass, for it
occurred to us that we could leave the luggage
at a little deserted road-mender's house there, and
the next day two men from Trafoi might be sent
up to fetch it. We also had an idea that the Italian
porters might be willing to go so far as long as
they were not obliged to cross the frontier, un-
pleasant results sometimes ensuing to persons
doing so, whose ideas about free trade do not quite
correspond with the law of the land. The porters
assured us that they feared avalanches on the
Italian side of the pass also. The slope being but
little steeper than that from Hyde Park Corner to
Hyde Park Gate, this excuse was obviously absurd,
so I asked our German friend, who did not know
the road, to inform the men that I had crossed the
Stelvio twice during the past month, and conse-
quently knew the pass well enough utterly to dis-
believe such statements as to avalanches on the
High Life and Towers of Silence. 6
•1
Italian side, and that I feared they were either
excessively lazy or utter cowards. These strong
remarks, aided by some uncomplimentary obser-
vations from Cupelin, delivered in Chamonix
patois, had the desired effect, and the men con-
sented to carry our luggage to the summit of the
pass, the innkeeper looking very sulky because we
should thus escape the inhospitable shelter of his
roof, under which he had fully decided that we
should spend the night.
The afternoon was advancing, so we got under
weigh as quickly as possible. The snow was cer-
tainly very, very bad ; in fact Cupelin and I secretly
agreed that we had never seen it worse, but we made
light of it before our faint-hearted porters.
One of the Germans was fat and portly. He
puffed like a grampus, and continually got into
drifts and holes up to his waist. He then scrambled
out as best he could, and continued any remark
he might have been making at the moment of
his exit, his obser\'ations being usually most cheer-
ful ones, for he evidently considered the whole
thing a very good joke. His companion was
thin and small, and appeared fully aware of all
64 High Life and Toiucrs of Silence.
the discomforts of the situation, which were, in
his case, greatly exaggerated by the thin elastic-
sided boots which he wore. My maid trudged along
pluckily at the end of the procession, while Cupelin,
a heavy knapsack on his back, hovered about and
encouraged every one by turns. One of the Italians
headed the troop, but, after a little time, he halted,
and proceeded to inform me in very bad French
that he contemplated returning home. I replied in
the sternest and most scornful tones which I could
assume, that perhaps, if I made the tracks, he might
manage to walk in them. I hoped that this would
spur him on and induce him to exert himself, but
he merely stood aside, in order to let me pass to
the front, and looked as if, on the whole, he con-
sidered that I had taken a mean advantage of him.
Cupelin, in the meantime, was a long way
behind, engaged in a war of words with the other
porter, who also wished to back out of his engage-
ment. For an hour or so I pushed steadily for-
ward, ploughing through powdery snow, which
often reached to my waist. Then the Italian offered
to change places with mc for a little, and so,
working slowly onwards, we at length reached the
High Life and Toiuers of Silence. 65
stone pillar which marks the frontier between Italy
and Austria/ Snow was falling, and a strong wind
howled round us, and all distant objects were ob^
scured by the driving mist. None of the other
members of the party were, as yet, in sight, so I
spent the time while waiting for them in con-
templating the not very lively prospect of the
descent, which we were soon to make, of the slopes
just below. By keeping as much as possible out
of the gullies, and descending, one above the other,
in as straight a line as we could, it seemed to me
that we should avoid all risk from avalanches.
Still the idea of the long distance which lay between
us and Trafoi, and the fact that it was alreadv
beginning to get dusk, failed to %\\^ me any grati-
fication.
Glancing back down the long furrow which we
had made through the snow, a tall figure with a
bundle on its back could be seen, and, presentl\%
two more individuals also came into sight. I tried
to make out my maid amongst them, but failed to
identify her, and, as the party approached, I was
much puzzled by her absence. When, however,
* The Stelvio is 9000 feet above the level of the sea.
F
66 High Life and Towers of Silence,
they nearly reached us, I noticed that, at every
step, CupeHn sank nearly twice as deeply into the
snow as we had done, and that he appeared to be
in an unaccountable state of intense heat and
fatigue. As soon as he got quite close to us, the
mystery was suddenly solved, for, on his back,
fastened with shawls, and her face as white as
the snow itself, was my maid, in a state of complete
unconsciousness. I was horrified, fearing that the
case was very serious, but Cupelin reassured me
saying that he felt sure she had fainted, owing to
being in a much higher air than she was accustomed
to, and that now he was able to apply restoratives
she would speedily recover. He told me that he
had carried her on his back, without once halting,
for an hour. Placing my maid for a moment on
the luggage, he went over to the road-mender's
house. A blow or two from his powerful axe sent
in the door with a crash. A ladder led upstairs to
a loft, and, up this ladder, Cupelin transported my
maid, asking me to fetch his flask as quickly as I
could. I had taken off my gloves in order to rub
my maid's hands, and, not waiting to put them on
again, I ran as fast as I could to where the luggage
HicrJi Life and Towers of Silence. 67
had been left, a little distance from the house.
In my hurry I tripped and fell once or twice, and
consequently made my hands terribly cold as I
plunged them in the snow to aid myself to get up
again. By the time I reached our baggage, I no
longer had any sensation left in my fingers, and
could only put my arm through a strap attached to
my knapsack and pull it along, and, no one being
in sight, I was unable to ask for help. My return
was therefore rather a slow process, and, in spite of
my endeavours to bring back sensation into my
hands, by rubbing them with snow, I utterly failed.
By the time I entered the house, both my hands
were perfectly white and dead. It was a decided
case of frost-bite. My maid was just beginning to
recover from her long faint, and a little brandy
brought her completely to. On noticing my hands,
Cupelin instantly poured out some cognac and
rubbed it over them. After a short time my arms
began to ache fearfully, then I felt in my hands all
those tortures of returning sensation incident to
frost-bite, and, as Cupelin continued to rub, the
whiteness gave place to a darker hue, and finally
complete sensation returned.
Y 2
68 High Life and Towers of Silence,
The two porters, after having carried our luggage
into the house, took their leave and went home,
while the remaining five of us consulted as to what
our next step should be. The short afternoon had
nearly closed in, and the scramble down to Trafoi
would have been a serious matter at that hour,
even had my maid been quite well, but, after our
experience of the last few hours, we felt convinced
that our wisest course was to remain where we
were for the night, and, early next morning,
descend to Trafoi, my maid being pulled down the
slopes, wrapped in a rug, should she feel unequal
to walking. As soon as this decision was arrived
at, we began to unpack our stores and to make
ourselves as comfortable as was possible under the
circumstances.
The house consisted of a sort of cellar (possibly
a stable), below, and a loft, approached by a ladder,
above. In this room there was a rough hearth and
a chimney to carry off the smoke ; also two small
windows from which the glass seemed long ago to
have departed. Furniture there was none, nor was
there a bundle of hay or straw ; the place was as
bare as it possibly could be. The operation of
High Life and Toiuers of Silence. 69
making ourselves comfortable was carried out in
this wise. First of all, Cupelin brought up the door
\vhich he had broken in. It was placed across the
two portmanteaus, thus forming a table. A candle,
which Cupelin triumphantly produced from the
depths of one of his pockets, was lit and m^ade to
stand upright on the table. With a few sticks,
which the porters had dug up from under the
snow, a fire was kindled, and soon our eyes were
smarting in a manner which must be expected if
a fire is lit under a chimney which is half blocked
up with snow. My maid, being the invalid of the
party, was placed in the most sheltered corner,
and an impromptu couch made for her with
our wraps. Then we cooked the dinner. The
soup was heated, mixed with snow, in a large
tin, from which we first removed a potted
tongue ; and on our tinned soup, potted meat,
champagne and marsala, did we feast The
German, who was of a lively turn of mind, made us
a speech, in which he lauded what he was pleased
to call our courage, and made the best of every-
thing, while his friend, who was less cheerfully
inclined, contemplated his shrivelled boots, and
yo High Life and Towers of Silence.
looked as if he were pondering on the stock of
rheumatism he was la}'ing up. Table d'hote
concUided, we all tried to get a little sleep.
Cupelin did the best he could for us. The two
Germans had an ulster of mine between them
to protect them against a temperature many
degrees belovv^ freezing-point. I had the rope as
my pillow and a thin shawl as my sole wrap,
and when he had settled us, Cupelin took some
stones, which he had put in the fire to heat, and
placed them against our feet. He himself would
not He down, but sat over the crackling wood,
carefully gathering the little bits together from
time to time, and thus economizing our limited
stock of fuel. The weary hours passed terribly
slowly ; sleep under such conditions of discomfort
was quite impossible, and as the fire gradually died
out the cold became intense. My gloves, lying
near me, grew hard as steel, and at last I could
bear it no longer, so softly rose and went over to
where Cupelin was sitting.
" Cupelin," I whispered, " it is intensely cold ;
have we 710 more wood ? "
" None, madam," he replied ; and adding some-
High Life and Tozvers of Silence. 71
what inconsistently, as it seemed to me, " But I
shall soon get some," he left the room.
Immediately after heavy blows were heard out-
side.
" What is that ? " cried both the Germans at once.
" I don't know," I answered ; " I'm just going to
see." As I spoke Cupelin entered, carrying several
large pieces of wood.
" Where did you succeed in finding all that
wood ] " I inquired in surprise.
" Oh, it's part of the stairs," replied my guide, as
he heaped up some of it on the hearth. ''The
staircase is the only wooden thing in the house,
except the door ; we will send a few francs from
Trafoi in payment."
This fresh supply of wood kept us tolerably
warm until the morning broke, grey and cloudy as
the day before. But this chapter is passing beyond
all reasonable limits, so I will keep the account of
what happened to us, when we said good-bye to
the road-mender's house, for the next.
72 High Life and Towers of Silence,
CHAPTER V.
THE FLOODS OF 1882 IN AUSTRIA AND
NORTHERN ITALY.
Return of the porters — We are persuaded to go back to the
Custom-House — The officials speed the parting guests —
We go down to the Muster Thai by the Wormser Joch
— Arrival at Mais — We hear about the floods — The
Germans leave us — State of the road to Meran — We
reach Meran — We plan a small excursion — A porter is
engaged who suffers from continual hunger — He accepts
our offer to remain till our return at the foot of the peak
— He shows us our destination — We find that the point
indicated is not the summit — A long detour — We give
chase to the porter %vho has not waited for us — His sack
is found to be empty — The porter still suffers from
hunger — Cupelin starts for Chamonix and I set out for
Montreux — The floods — The manner in which wood is
collected at Meran — Trent — Appearance of Verona after
the inundation — We reach Switzerland.
When the light grew strong enough for us to
begin our packing, we set to work and made our
preparations for going down to Trafoi. All that
High Life and Tozuers of Silence, 'j'}^
we should require till the next day was put into
Cupelin's knapsack, the rest of the goods were
packed in the portmanteaus, which we should have
to leave on the pass, till some porters from Trafoi
could be sent up to fetch them.
Breakfast was, of course, out of the question, as
nothing remained from our slender stock of pro-
visions. We hoped that a couple of hours would
enable us to reach Trafoi, which uncomfortable
little place seemed to us, in the dim and distant
future, even as the flesh-pots of Egypt. Just as
Cupelin was engaged in uncoiling the rope, in order
to fasten my maid up in a rug with it, loud shouts
were heard outside, and tramping up through the
snow we saw our two porters of the day before,
accompanied by two custom-house officers. W'e
triumphed much at the sight, for we imagined that
it meant repentance on the part of the porters ; but,
alas ! their motive, when it was disclosed, did not
consist in an offer to carry our luggage to Trafoi.
The party conducted their manceu\-res with tact,
however. First, opening one of their knapsacks,
they produced coffee and bread, inquiring, with
apparent interest, how we felt. Then one of the
74 High Life and Towers of Silence.
custom-house officials disclosed the real object of
this early visit. He said that it was expressly
forbidden for anv one to cross the Stelvio once
the snow is down, and that should we, in breaking
this rule, meet with an accident, the custom-house
authorities would be blamed for allowing us to
pass and he might, in consequence, lose his place.
He promised, if we would return to the custom-
house with him, to supply us with porters, who
would carry our luggage to Santa Maria in the
Musterthal, whence we could get a carriage, and
reach Meran next day. He would also pro-
vide us with a hand-sledge, on which my maid
could be pulled for a good part of the distance.
Such an offer was not to be despised, so we turned
our backs on the inhospitable building in which we
had spent the night, and were not long in reaching
the fourth Cantoniere. While we had a combined
breakfast and luncheon there, the hand-sledge was
prepared and the luggage fastened on it, and, when
we came out, we found that all the men of the es-
tablishment intended to accompany us as far as the
Swiss frontier. My maid was placed on the port-
manteaus, and tied to them by the aid of shawls
High Life and Towers of Silence. 75
and the rope, and off we started. A camera
would have been very welcome at that moment,
for a funnier procession I never saw.
Cupelin and I were in front, closely followed by
the stout German, who got himself into holes as
usual, and with his habitual cheerfulness remarked,
as he emerged on all fours, " C'est comme (gasp) le
Boulevard des Italiens ! " Then came the sledge,
with my maid perched high up on the luggage.
Two strong porters made light of the weight, and a
custom-house officer walked on each side, steady-
ing the sledge, and giving encouragement in a, to
her, unknown tongue. Some nondescript persons
straggled along behind, and a small yellow dog, who
continually disappeared in the snow, his ears and
tail alone visible, brought up the rear. It was very
pleasant when the snow gradually gave place to
stones and grass, and the sight of a green forest
below us, lit by the sun, which had at length con-
trived to emerge from its covering of clouds, was
most refreshing to our eyes, wearied as they were
by the bleak, snowy landscape which we had had
around us during the last twenty-four hours. Here
some of our escort left us, only the two custom-
76 High Life and Towers of Silence.
house officers and a couple of porters going on
with us to Santa Maria. The woods of chestnut
were beautifully fresh, the leaves shone like satin
after the rain, and the Musterthal seemed a very
paradise to us, as every step led us lower, where
the vegetation became more luxuriant. Soon a
cluster of white houses peeped through the trees,
and we arrived at the village. We feasted right
royally at the clean little inn, and then ordered a
carriage to take us to Mais. Two small vehicles
were prepared for us, and away we went, along a
narrow country road, strewn with large stones, and,
in some places, with trunks of trees. The jolting
was fearful, and even Cupelin exclaimed from time
to time that he'd never seen anything like it in his
life (an expression of opinion not uncommon
amongst guides, as Mr. Dent truly remarks^). On
reaching the Austrian frontier, our luggage was
mercilessly examined, and a long delay conse-
quently ensued, so that it was dark before the lights
of Mais could be seen, twinkling through the heavy
rain, which fell during the last hour of our drive.
1 " Above the Snow Line," by Clinton Dent. This delight-
ful book will amuse and interest people who have never
even seen a mountain.
High L ife and Tozuers of Silence. 7 7
The hotel at Mais was cold and cheerless, but
we were not disposed to be critical after our late
experiences. I noticed as I entered the dining-
room, that the two Germans were evidently listen-
ing to some news which did not please them,
judging from the expressions of their faces, and
the way in which they ejaculated the German
equivalents for " fearful ! " '' terrible ! " and "dread-
ful ! " at intervals, whenever the landlord paused
in his narrative. I was not left long in doubt as
to the subject of the conversation, for, as soon as
they saw me, they hastened to tell me that they
were informed by the hotel-keeper that a great
part of Tyrol was under water, that many of the
roads and railways were completely washed away,
the line in the Pusterthal being destroyed from
end to end, and piles of stones which had been
swept down the lateral valleys by the swollen
torrents were heaped many feet high above the
rails in some places. The landlord had also
told them that the valley between Mcran and
Botzen was simply a lake, and all communication
cut off between the two places, the letters and
provisions coming round the other way. This
necessitated a wide detour, and, should the road in
78 High Life and Towers of Silence,
question be, in its turn, destroyed, the hundreds
of invahds then staying at Meran would have a
most trying time. Many people stop there in the
autumn for a month, or so, before going to the
Riviera for the winter, and most of the visitors are
lung patients in a very delicate state of health.
These poor people could not, of course, undertake
a journey to the south, which, under these con-
ditions, must be made partly on foot, partly in
boats, and partly by carriage, often halting at
most uncomfortable night-quarters. Therefore the
invalids had no choice but to remain at Meran
during the whole winter, as the repairing of the
line would take some months. Meran, under any
circumstances, was not likely to suit them during
the cold weather, and, in consequence of the floods,
the provisions took so long to reach the town that
the meat was generally far from fresh by the time
it arrived, and hardly any vegetables could be
procured. In view of such attractions, the two
Germans preferred to avoid Meran, and go straight
to Innsbruck.
The following morning I started in a convey-
ance called, by a somewhat strained courtesy, the
High Life and Toivcrs of Silence. 79
diligence, accompanied by my maid and Cupclin.
This vehicle was bound for Meran. The road was
very bad, and, in some places, great slices had been
washed away, and only a gap remained. On
these occasions the post pulled up at the edge of
the gap, the passengers alighted, and walked across
an extemporized bridge, which had been hastily
constructed of pine-trees and boards. Another
vehicle waited on the other side, and in this the
journey was continued till we came to a place
where the road was again broken away, when the
former performance had to be repeated once more.
It was a most tedious drive to Meran under these
conditions, but, at last, towards evening, we got there.
Needless to say, our luggage, sent by Grande
Vitesse from Bormlo, had not arrived, and, to make
a long story short, we saw nothing of it for six
wrecks, when, by aid of many telegrams and much
intelligence on the part of the concierge at the
" Continental," Milan, it reached that hotel three
hours before our arrival there, and had conse-
quently taken more than six weeks to travel from
Bormio.
Meran looked much as usual, the floods not
8o High Life and Towers of Silence,
being visible from the village, but, though we did
not see them, we heard of little else, and it was
clear that, being at Meran, we had better remain
there a little time till travelling became easier, as
we were in no hurry to reach Montreux, where I
intended to spend the winter.
It was not of any use to keep Cupelin in so non-
climbing a district, and during such non-climbing
weather, so I decided to send him back by Inns-
bruck after we had taken one walk and seen what
we could of the views near Meran. The next day
being tolerably fine, we settled to go up a moun-
tain, of which I have quite forgotten the name. We
were told that some scrambling was necessary in
order to reach the summit. As neither cf us had the
least idea of the position of this mountain, or the
way to approach it, we engaged a porter who
volunteered to lead us in the right direction, and,
at 4 a.m. the following morning, we set out in clear
weather. Our porter was lanky and hungr}^-look-
ing, and eyed the load of provisions which he had
placed in a common sack, and tied round his neck
with a string, with longing glances. About two
hours after starting he suggested that he was
High Life and ToiL'crs of Silence. 8i
hungry, so we gave him a plentiful supply of
bread and cheese, and he sat down by the side
of the path to enjoy himself. His manner of
getting up the hill consisted in making dashes
down the sides of gulleys, and mounting them
again a little further on. As this mode of pro-
gression seemed likely to waste a good deal of
time, Cupelin suggested to the youth that he should
keep strictly to his vocation of porter, and allow
us to do the guiding of the party. He was nothing
loath, the way was easily found, and, before very
long, we left the trees behind, and reached a deso-
late stony tract, on which the Austrian Alpine
Club have erected a hut. The porter observed
that it would be an excellent plan to halt here for
luncheon, but we sternly bade him continue for an
hour more, and Cupelin, for about the twentieth
time that day, gave vent to the words '* Vorwarts !"
and " Schnell ! " words to which he seemed to
attach more importance than to all the rest of the
German language.
A little further on the ground became steeper,
and, looking back, the porter could be seen, labori-
ously following us in an attitude much affected by
G
82 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
infants of tender years. He plaintively informed
us that he found it very difficult to get on, as he
had no nails in his boots, and consequently required
to make use of his hands as well as his feet. We
looked to where a thin, white, wedge-like peak shot
up towards the sky, and mentally pictured our
porter's attitudes when he reached the ridge ;
judging by the early stage at which he brought all
available means of holding on into use, he would
require to be a centipede by the time he got there,
if he intended to adhere.
" Supposing we leave him here ? " Cupelin sug-
gested.
I asked the porter if he would prefer to wait for
us under a rock near at hand, or if he very much
wished to go on.
He replied without hesitation that he would be
delighted to remain below, and furthermore added
that he was very hungry. We sat down and had
luncheon, and then, putting two rolls and a flask in
our pockets, placed the rest of the provisions in the
sack. They consisted of a large piece of veal and
one of beef, half a loaf of bread, a slice of cheese,
two hard-boiled eggs, and a bottle of red wine.
High Life and Towers of Silence. 8
T
Leaving the sack with the porter, and taking the
rope, we began to scramble over loose stones and
snow, then climbed along a narrow ridge, which led
us to the point shown to us from below b\- the
porter, and declared by him to be the summit.
Miserable delusion ! From our standing-point the
ridge still extended upwards, the snow curling in a
beautiful cornice over a bare wall of rock to our
left. I did not particularly relish the idea of going
along this ridge with only one guide, and Cupelin
also thought it imprudent, so we descended the
slopes of snow to our right till they became less
steep, then traversed, and finally mounted in almost
a direct line to the summit. This, however, took
us the greater part of two hours, and we only
remained on the top for a short time. The view
was a lovely one, many chains of, to us, unknown
mountains rising around in wave-like ranges.
The descent straight down the slopes was quickly
accomplished, but Cupelin looked in vain towards
the large rock below for our porter. On stopping
for a moment to try and discover his whereabouts,
we caught sight of a black dot, rapidly grow-
ing smaller in the distance. This was the
G 2
84 High Life and Towers of Silence,
porter, en route for Meran. We supposed that he
feared an accident in consequence of our long
delay, and probably intended to organize a search-
party, or to take his revenge in some equally play-
ful and irritating manner for the pace at which
Cupelin had made him walk that morning.
Hunger prompted us to try and overtake him as
speedily as possible, as the contents of his sack
had many attractions for us. We ran as fast as
we could, and called loudly, and, at last, the object
of our pursuit stopped, and we rejoined him.
"Now, madame," said Cupelin, "please ask him
to undo the sack and get out the provisions."
I translated this to the porter, but he did not
appear to relish the request, and handed over his
bag with an air of sulky resignation. The moment
Cupelin felt its weight a loud exclamation broke
from him.
" Le coquin ! II a tout mange ! "
And it was quite true ; not one atom of bread or
meat, or a single drop of wine remained, and the
youth stood by, lean and hungry-looking as ever.
When we had freely expressed our opinion on
the absence of our dinner, Cupelin observed that
High Life and Towers of Silence. 85
the porter still, perhaps, suffered from hunger, and
was equal to another meal ; so, by way of testing
his capacities in that direction, he offered the
remains of one of our rolls, which was at once
eagerly accepted, and therewith consumed. Lower
down, where pine-forests gave place to vineyards,
that young man again found means of satisfying
the ever-present pangs of hunger, for he occupied
himself in attacking the grapes with a disregard of
the possible danger to himself from the guardians
of the vines, which our experience of his courage
during the day had not led us to expect.
The morning after our excursion. Cupelin started
on his return journey to Chamonix. I remained
at Meran a week or two longer, and then determined
to go to ]\Iontreux.
The journey, as far as Verona, appeared likely
to be a very uncomfortable one, at least so the
hotel-keepers said. But I find that these good
people generally show over-much anxiety for the
welfare of their clients, when it is a question of their
departure ; so I consulted with a carriage-owner,
and he took a very different view of the situation.
" Oh, yes," he said, " the journey can easily be
86 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
made and won't be very long ; but the roads are
bad, and the carriage will get extremely wet, so I
cannot let you have it according to the ordinary
tariff."
This I had expected, and was very glad to have
found means of leaving the place without more
difficultv\
We started early in the morning from J\Ieran,
and all went well till we approached Botzen. Then
we had to go through a regular lake, the water reach-
ing half-way up the carriage-wheels. The horses
were rested for a short time at Botzen, and from there
we telegraphed to the hotel at Trent, asking the
landlord to send a carriag^e to meet us at the nearest
station to, that town to which the train could go.
From Botzen the road became even worse than it
had been from Meran. We had to sit with our feet
on the seats of the carriage, as the water filled all
the inside of it. I thought once or twice that the
vehicle would float and the horses begin to swim.
Boats of primitive construction paddled about, and,
high on the shores of the lake, we could see regular
settlements of poor people, camped out under sheets
which formed impromptu tents, who had been lite-
High Life and Towers of Silence. ^j
rally washed out of house and home. It was very,
very sad to see all round one the ruin which had
been caused by the floods. The water having sub-
sided a good deal during the last fortnight, much of
the land which had been covered was now exposed
to view. Vineyard after vineyard could be seen,
with mud clinging to the vine leaves, and the once
beautiful purple fruit hanging shrivelled and spoilt.
Melons floated on the water, and, high up on trees
and houses, a slimy mark told to what a depth the
flood had stood in the vallev. At leni^th we
reached a station from which we could go by train
nearly to Trent. After making the short journey
by railway, we were obliged, on alighting at the
station, to walk along platforms of board, laid
across rushing torrents, which, swollen with the
rains, had formed many unfamiliar channels for
themselves. It was dark by this time, and the
sight was a weird one. Men with flaming torches
stood all along, and the water boiled and surged
below. We had to walk for, perhaps, ten minutes
before reaching the place where it was possible for
carriages to meet us.
The scene reminded me of a curious sight which
88 High Life and Tozucrs of Silence.
may be observed on spring nights at Meran. The
wood, cut in winter in the forests bordering the river
for many miles above Meran^ is piled up and left at
the edge of the stream. As soon as the melting of
the snow in spring swells the river, a number of
stakes are driven into the bed near the bridcre at
Meran, and a barrier formed obliquely across the
water. This is left open in one narrow place only,
from which a swiftly-flowing current leads, between
walls, to a reservoir. The work of making this
barrier concluded, the various woodmen all along
the river are informed, and at once begin to
throw the wood into the stream, cut in blocks some
three or four feet long. Down it dashes towards
Meran, and, following the strongest part of the
current, most of it is carried down the small channel
into the reservoir, and is there landed. Some, how-
ever, float against the barrier, and other pieces be-
come wedged between stones. In order to free
these pieces and send them into the right and narrow
way, a number of men place themselves at the
various points, where the wood is likeh* to be stopped
and push it off again with long poles. In order
that the river ma\' not become filled durincf the
High Lifeand Towers of Silence. 89
night with the pieces of wood which catch in this
way, the work of staving them off is continued till
a very late hour, sometimes, I believe, the whole
night, the men working by torchlight, and often
standing in several feet of water. It is a very
picturesque sight to watch them from the bridge^
the lights reflected from the rushing water, and
flashing on the figures of the strong-looking
Tyrolese peasants who are toiling below.
But we are now at Trent, and never did the
always comfortable "Hotel de Trent" seem half
so comfortable as on this occasion, after emerging
from the floods. We were told that communi-
cation was open to Milan, so the next day we
started by train, noticing as we left the hotel
the marks of the flood on the walls as high as the
first floor. Before reaching Verona we had to
cross a river, the railway bridge over which had
been entirely destroyed. Accordingly, the per-
formance of getting out, walking across very totter^
ing planks and getting into a train on the other side,
had to be ijone throucfh. Verona had evidently
suffered terribly from the inundation. Many of
the houses by the river were mere shells, and the
90 High Life and Towe^^s of Silence.
water still flowed above the basements. We
arrived that evening at Milan and the following
day said good-bye to Italy, and passed by the
Mont Cenis into Switzerland. Two months at
iMontreux followed, and the rest of the winter was
spent at Chamonix. I have described my climbs
there in "The High Alps in Winter ; or, Moun-
taineering in search of Health," so will not refer
to any of those scrambles in these pages, but will
narrate in the next chapter the adventures of a day
spent the following spring on the Glacier dc Tour.
High Life and Toivcrs of Silence. 91
CHAPTER VI.
COL DU TOUK WITHOUT GUIDES.
We decide to make the excursion of the Col du Tour,
Fenetre de Sale'na and Col de Chardonnet — Much fresh
snow above the village of Tour — An unpleasant scramble
— We gain the glacier — A thick fog and great heat —
The pass — We are in doubt as to the prudence of crossing
the Col de Chardonnet in a fog — We reluctantly make
up our minds to go back the way we came — We do not
enjoy the descent — At ten o'clock we reach Chamonix —
Condition of our faces — The guides are not sympathetic
when at last we can leave the house.
This excursion was undertaken in the middle of
May. The season was a late one, and snow still
lay heavily on the ground down to a height of
5000 feet. Chamonix was very empt\', but an
energetic young EngHsh clergyman, in addition to
one or two other visitors, was staying at the Hotel
d'Angleterre. My enterprising countr\'man was
anxious to see as much as he could of the chain of
Mont Blanc, during the week or ten days he
92 High Life and Toiuei's of Silence.
intended to stay at Chamonix. I, on my part,
wanted to take some good walks and get into
training for the summer season, so we combined
our forces, and, at five o'clock one morning, we
started for the Col du Tour, intending to cross it
and return to Chamonix, via the Fenetre de Salena
and the Col de Chardonnet, a tour which I had
made a few months previously. Our first plan
had been to ascend to the Col du Geant, but the
uncertain state of the weather decided us to go
instead to the Col du Tour.
At a quarter past six one morning, we left our
carriage at the little village of Tour. Crossing the
meadows, we at once came upon patches of snow,
and the ground was thickly sprinkled as we began
to mount the rhododendron-covered slopes which
lead up to the level part of the glacier du Tour,
above the ice-fall. A little path gives easy access
to the plateau above, but the track was hidden by
the snow, and we had such a stiff climb to reach
the top of the slope, so steep as to be almost a
precipice, that we unanimously congratulated each
other that the weather, which had been rather
cloudy when we set out, had so much improved as
High Life and Towers of Silence. 93
to allow us to hope that we could carry out our
plan of returning by the Chardonnet Col, and so
avoid the descent of a place which had given us
such difficulty in ascending, hampered as we were
with rope and knapsacks. A long grind up a
snow-covered moraine brought us to the level part
of the glacier. We tied ourselves together, and
keeping the rope tightly stretched, we started once
more. The snow was very soft, and, as we were
only a party of two, I had to prod for crevasses
with great care, as it would have been difficult
for my companion to pull me out had I fallen
through. The weather, though it had improved
since we left Chamonix, was by no means settled.
For a few minutes a blue expanse of sky, with
glittering domes of snow standing out against it,
could be seen. Then the mists would blot out
everything, and we could not distinguish objects at
a greater distance than a few yards. The glare of
the snow was intensified by the white mist and the
heat was most trying, as there was not a breath of
air moving. When, from time to time, our sur-
roundings became distinct, I noted the direction of
the. Col, which is by no means easy to find from
94 High Life and Towers of Silence.
the Glacier du Tour, as it is not seen till within
twenty minutes of reaching it. My friend began
to find the heat and glare almost unbearable, and
had often to stop and rest. The softness of the
snow made it most fatiguing, and my weight did
not enable me to make the tracks very deep, so
that he sank in my footsteps.
It was 3.15 p.m. when we reached the pass, and,
as we mounted to the little ridge on which the
stone man is built, a rush of cold air greeted us
from the other side, and, while we had luncheon
and reviewed the situation, we became thoroughly
chilled. The question was this — should we go on,
or should we return as we came. The Fenetre de
Salena, a narrow pass giving access to the Glacier
de Salena, was invisible, owing to the fog. How-
ever, I knew that I could manage to find it, as it is
very close to the Col du Tour. But to reach the
Col de Chardonnet from the Fenetre, the wide snow-
fields of the Salena Glacier must be traversed to
the foot of the Chardonnet Pass, and the berg-
schrund or crevasse below the latter must be
crossed, a possible place to get over it being found.
Step-cutting might also be necessary on the steep
High Life and Toilers of Silence. 95
slope below the summit of the Col, and an hour
and a half must be allowed before one can descend
the other side and get clear of the glacier. Not a
very promising prospect to contemplate at 3.30, in
the month of May, and in a fog ! Our plan of
returning had but one drawback — the descent of
the wall up which we had scrambled in the morning
and which we had found difficult. We rapidly
decided that the latter alternative was the only
one we could with prudence adopt. Packing the
remains of our provisions, we straightway launched
forth, and after numerous plunges, and, lower
down, a good glissade, we reached the beginning
of the steep rocky slope just as it grew dark. We
were tired from the heavy walking, and, in the
dusk, exaggerated the difficulties of our morn-
ing's climb, so that we were not in the pluckiest
frame of mind possible when we began slowl>- to
descend.
After a few minutes, it became impossible to dis-
tinguish rocks, rhododendron bushes, and precipices
from each other, and, as a blunder between the two
last might have been somewhat awkward, we again
uncoiled the rope. It had been discarded when we
96 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
quitted the glacier, but now we attached ourselves
again, and I went down to the end of my tether.
When I was firmly placed, I drew in the rope,while
my companion descended, and so, little by little,
we approached the pastures below. At length we
reached them and walked rapidly to Argentiere,
where we had coffee while a carriage was being got
ready, and at 10.10 p.m. we turned into the court-
yard of the Angleterre at Chamonix. I suppose
that the account of an excursion ought to end with
the return, but the three following days were much
more memorable to me than the events of the walk
I have mentioned. I have many times had my face
badly burnt on ice and snow, but never have I
experienced such agony as resulted from my walk
to the Col du Tour. My friend suffered quite as
severely as I did, and for four days neither of us
could leave the house. The stiffening of the skin
made opening one's mouth to eat a matter in which
all ones ingenuity was required, and the pain from
the blisters with which my face was entirely covered,
prevented me from lying down even for a moment
during the second night. A sorry spectacle we pre-
sented when at last we could leave the hotel, and
High Life and Towers of Silence. 97
I fear, from the grins of the guides, that they were
not altogether sympathetic for misfortunes con-
tracted during an excursion accomplished without
their aid.
11
98 High Life and Towers of Silence.
CHAPTER VII.
FIRST ASCENT OF THE BIESHORN.
(4161 metres, or 13,652 English feet.)
A few words about the peaks of the Alps which remained
unascended in 18S4 — Imboden gives me some unex-
pected information — Appearance of the Bieshorn from
the Vispthal — We examine the mountain from the Festi
— We decide to attempt its ascent — The start — A night
below the Bruneggjoch — Our peak at close quarters —
The Biesjoch — We begin the ascent of the Bieshorn —
Excitement — " It will go somehow, but I daresay you
won't like the look of it ! " — The appearance of the
arete — We have a lively two hours — Imboden loses his
axe — A virgin summit — We try a short cut in descend-
ing — A miniature'avalanche — Imboden suggests a novel
mode of crossing a glacier — Back on the Bruneggjoch —
We cross the Barrjoch and descend to St. Nicholas.
On July 24th, 1885, the la.st great peak of the Alps
which had remained unascended, succumbed before
the determined attack of Mr. Seymour King.
This mountain, the Aiguille Blanche de Peuteret,
had cost Professor Balfour and his c:uidc their
00
o
V
n
u
3
to
High Life and Toiuers of Silence. 99
lives in 1882, and, since that time, various un-
successful attempts had been made to ascend it,
bad weather having invariably caused those
climbers who started for the excursion to return
before advancing to any great height. I myself,
amongst others, had assaulted the mountain on
the side of the Glacier de la Brenva, and bitter
was my disappointment and that of my guides
when, after crossing the bergschrund, going for
some distance up the steep slope below the rocks,
and finding the snow excellent and the stones
too firmly frozen to bombard us, a storm came on
and we were most reluctantly obliged to retreat.
Great, therefore, was my joy, when sitting one lovely
evening in July, 1884, on the rocks of the Festi,
which is the sleeping-place for the Dom, to receive
the following information from Joseph Imboden,
my guide. He told me that for some years he had
been waiting for an opportunity to ascend one of
the two mountains which till then had not been
conquered. I was much surprised to hear that two
of the first-class peaks of the Alps remained un-
climbcd, while I had only known of one, and I
eagerly asked for further particulars.
II 2
lOO High Life and Tozuers of Silence,
" See, madame, that fine point rising to the right
of the Weisshorn/' he said ; " that mountain is 350
feet higher than Piz Bernina, and yet no one has
ever been up it ! " I looked to where he pointed
and exclaimed, " But, Imboden, surely that is the
Brunegghorn ! " *' Madame," replied he, " ask any
of the mule-drivers and second-rate guides whom
you may happen to meet between Stalden and St.
Nicholas, the name of the high white peak which
you see while walking from one of these places to
the other, and those who don't tell you that it's the
Brunegghorn will assure you that it's the Weisshorn !
Look far below It, there is the Brunegghorn.'^
I carefully examined the ridges, and there was
no doubt of the accuracy of his statement. We at
once decided to take advantage of the beautiful
weather, and start for the ascent of this new
peak as soon as Imboden should return from
an ascent of the Matterhorn, for which he had
been previously engaged. During our walk up
the Dom next day, our eyes frequently wandered
across the Vispthal, and we eagerly discussed
the characteristics of the fine white peak opposite.
Some steep rocks led to a long and narrow
High Life and Toiucrs of Silence. loi
ridge, plastered up with snow on the right
and falh'ng away in steep rocky walls to the left.
We were uncertain whether it would be best for
us to follow this ridge in its entire lengthy or to
strike it near the summit by mounting the rocks.
The relative disadvantages of these routes were,
that, in the first case, should we find ice on the
ridge, the amount of step-cutting would be almost
prohibitory, requiring perhaps four or five hours
for the passage of the ridge alone ; and, in the
second case, the rocks were evidently, from Im-
boden's observation of them from the arete of the
Weisshorn, excessively rotten, and, as the snow
which lay on them in patches melted, we might
expect a regular bombardment by falling stones.
Hence we decided to make no definite plans till we
should be able to examine the mountain from the
Biesjoch. Of course we kept our intentions a
profound secret. Imboden had set his heart on
taking the first travellers up the peak, and had
been careful not to announce the fact of its being
unascended till he saw a reasonable probability
of carrying out his project. It seems astonishing
that so high a mountain should have hitherto
I02 HigJi Life and Toiuers of Silence,
escaped notice, but its position, lying far back in
the range, and only seen from the Vispthal, when
it is invariably mistaken for the Brunegghorn or
Weisshorn, or from the summit of the surrounding
peaks, when it is passed overwithout notice, amongst
so many other mountains, accounts for the curious
fact that plans were so rarely made for its assault.
I find in Ball's ** Western Alps " the following
notice of the Bieshorn (as we christened it), on page
308 : " The ridge which circles round from peak
4 1 61 " (the Bieshorn) " did not appear practicable at
any point." This remark occurs in a notice of a
passage of the Biesjoch, made in 1864 by Messrs.
Moore, Morshead, and Gaskell, with the guides
Christian Aimer and Peter Perm. Since ascend-
ing the mountain, I have met several climbers
who told me that they had resolved to make the
first ascent.
On the 6th August, 1S84, we left Zermatt in
lovely weather at ten o'clock. I was accompanied
by Joseph Imboden and another guide. Our
object for that day was to find a convenient nook
in the rocks where we could spend the night at as
high an altitude, and as near our work for the next
HigJi Life and Towers of Silence. lo
-»
day, as was possible. Imbodcn knew all the moun-
tain paths well, and led us up a beautiful little track
from Herbrigen, winding steeply among the rocks,
and, in three hours, bringing us to a collection of
chalets high above the last trees. Here we lounged
for a little, and admired the magnificent view of the
distant Bernese Alps, and the bold forms of the
Dom and Taschhorn, shooting up into the sky on
the other side of the valley. Then, filling some
bottles w^th milk, we began once more to mount.
The heat was very great, and, as the day wore on,
dark clouds gradually covered the sky, and the
thunder boomed amidst the rocks. We quickened
our pace, and, without much trouble, found a
sheltered spot under an overhanging cliff, near the
foot of the Abberg glacier.
As we lay that night in our sleeping-bags, I
noticed, with great satisfaction, that the rain
ceased and the sky slowly cleared, and when, at
2.30 a.m., w^e began to prepare for breakfast, all
mist had disappeared, and everything promised
well for our excursion. At 3.45 we got under
weigh and began to grope along the slippery grass
slope by the aid of our lantern. Soon we arrived
I04 High Life and Towers of Silence.
at the moraine, and then, after a little of this par-
ticularly unpleasant feature of mountain climbing,
we reached the glacier. Hastening up it, we soon
found ourselves close to the ice-fall. Nov/ I have
a great affection for ice-falls — in their right places —
but an ice-fall in the dusk of early morning, when
one is still rather sleepy, and inclined to imagine
that the towering scracs above are ten times their
real size, and leaning over one at twice their actual
inclination, is not a sight to produce, at any rate,
a feeling of satisfaction. Therefore, when Imboden
asked me if I would like to go through, or pass
along the rocks, I thankfully pronounced in favour
of the latter. They required a considerable display
of gymnastics, and we were delayed for half an
hour or so by having chosen them in preference
to the snow. By 6.40 we gained the Bruneggjoch,
and from there our peak rose, white and glitterin
in the sun, across the plateau of the Turtman
glacier. Imboden had a good look at it while I
took several photographs, and, as we breakfasted,
he told me that he thought our best plan would be
to go direct to the Biesjoch, and see if we could
keep along the ridge leading upwards from there.
or
High Life and Toiuers of Silence. 105
Breakfast finished, we left the camera and one of
the bottles of wine on the Bruneggjoch, and started
off across the slopes of frozen snow towards the
Biesjoch. Thirty minutes quick walking brought
us to the bergschrund below the pass, and ten
minutes more sufficed for the step-cutting above it.
Once on the Biesjoch we had a good view of the
ridge to the right. It went up very steeply and
was fringed with snow cornices which hung over,
sometimes on one side and sometimes on the
other. The snow on the pass was loose and
powdery, and Imboden shook his head as he
noticed these unpromising details, and remarked
that it would not go. It remained, therefore,
to us to mount by the rocks, which were
already beginning to discharge their artillery of
stones down the steep snow slopes, which divided
them from the plateau of the Bies glacier. So on
we had to go with as little delay as possible, anxious
to be above those slopes before the cannonade
became still more furious. We ran down the
slope on the south side of the pass, quickly crossed
over towards the rocks, and began to ascend the
snow slope at the place which seemed the least
io6 High Life and Towels of Silence.
exposed to the falling stones. Fortunately, a good
kick from Imboden's foot always sufficed to make
our steps without waiting to cut them, and, in a
short time, we were on the rocks, from which stones
were ceaselessly pouring down on to the glacier
below, or into the bergschrund. The rocks were
excessively rotten and most irritating to climb.
Every step tended to upset stones, and, in spite of
great watchfulness, the rope was continually dis-
lodeinsf others. An hour and a half of this sort
of work was most trying to all our tempers, and it
was a great relief to be told by Imboden, that, on
reaching a knob of rock a short distance above us,
we should, in all probability, find ourselves on
the ridge, and be able, he hoped, from that point,
to follow it to the summit. The character of this
ridge was thus the turning-point in our ascent. If
it was practicable, we should reach our goal. If it
was impracticable, the hour of the day rendered a
descent to the glacier, and an ascent from there
directly to the summit altogether out of the question,
supposing such a route to be possible. Hence it
was with great impatience that we awaited the
arrival of our leader on this knob, as on what he
High Life and Tozuers of Silence. 107
might see when he reached it, depended the result
of our excursion. At length Imboden clambered
on to the rock, and, standing up, surveyed the ridge.
Then turning to us, he remarked, '*' It will go some-
how, but I daresay you won't like the look of it."
A second or two more, and the other guide and I
emerged on to the ridge, and saw what sort of
work lay before us. We had a platform some
three or four feet square to stand on, but from
there the ridge quickly narrowed to a knife-edge
of hard snow, which, after remaining level for a
short distance, shot upwards in a narrow crest,
from which a cornice of snow curled over, and
glittering icicles hung and fell off, as they melted
in the powerful rays of the sun. I confess that
I by no means liked the look of it, and I observed to
Imboden that the ridge of the Weisshorn appeared
much less difficult. Imboden seemed amused by my
remark, and informed me that there was no com-
parison between the two, and that a person who
would not attempt to cross the ridge in front of us
might feel quite happy on the arete of the Weisshorn.
I ascended the Weisshorn a few weeks later, and
most thoroughly agree with him on this point.
io8 Hi^h Life and Toiuers of Silence.
With such enlivening conversation our appetites
were sharpened for luncheon. We left all the pro-
visions, except one bottle of wine, at the beginning
of the ridge, and the heat was so great that all wraps,
even our gloves, could safely be deposited there
also. At 9.45 we began our long climb along
the crest. The total absence of wind was greatly
in our favour and enabled us to maintain our
equilibrium along the first part of the ridge with-
out difficulty. It is very impressive to look down
from such an arete, and it is rarely that one
finds oneself quite on the crest of such a knife-
edge, with one's feet well turned out, and one's
axe almost useless from the absence of anything at
the side to stick it into. From this ridge the eye
plunged down direct to the Turtman glacier on
the right, lying nearly 3000 feet below, and on the
left to the Bies-glacier, from which rose the sharply
pointed Weisshorn, while 10,000 feet lower than
the ridge on which we stood, a silvery thread
marked the course of the Visp between Stalden
and St. Nicholas. The snow on the arete was in
perfect condition, firm without being too hard, and
seldom requiring the use of the axe. We kept as
High Life and Tczuers of Silence. 109
much to the right as the extreme steepness of the
slope rendered possible, for we were anxious to keep
well off the cornice. Once we bore to the left, and
tried to ascend by the rocks, but the footholds were
so few and far between, and the detours, which
the difficulty of the rocks rendered desirable, were
so many, that we found it better to return to the
snow. Every step had to be made with care, and
it was seldom prudent for more than one of us to
move at a^time. Thus more than two hours passed
before we were within measurable distance of the
summit. "Measurable distance," in climbing a
new peak, is invariably a very short distance, as,
until the last moment, it is seldom possible to know
what unexpected obstacles may be met with. At
last, however, we got off the snow, and began to
climb the rocky point which formed the summit of
the mountain. As Imboden placed his axe near
the top, the stone on which he put it slipped away,
and off went the axe, clattering down towards the
Bies- glacier. A step or two more and the peak
sunk to the rank of its surrounding brethren, and
what I believe to be the last but one unsealed
mountain, over 13,000 feet high, in the Alps, was
I lo High Life and Towers of Silence.
conquered. Not a sign of a previous ascent could
be discovered, so the peak was really ours. We
built the regulation stone man, deposited our names
in a bottle, and congratulated each other in no
measured language. Then, as we had a long descent
before us and the clouds had begun to boil up from
the valley, threatening a thunderstorm, we began
our downward way. The descent of the ridge was
easier than the ascent, owing to the good steps
which we had made while mounting ; but, for a
short distance, the steepness of the slope rendered it
advisable for us to go down, face inwards. It was a
real pleasure, on reaching our little possessions, left
further down, to examine the long arete with its
line of tracks along it, though we could only halt
for a few minutes, as the sky grew more and more
overcast. After descending the rocks for some time,
Imbodcn said that by bearing to the right, and gain-
ing a snow slope, we should probably be able to get
down quicker^ this slope joining the rocks further
below. Accordingly we traversed and began the
descent of this slope. Snow lay loosely over the
ice beneath, and, after a few steps, a loud " whish ! "
announced that the powdery substance had begun
High Life and Towers of Silence. 1 1 1
to start off in an avalanche, and, in a few seconds,
a broad streak of ice had been swept clear by it."
Owing to the great heat the ice was by no means
hard, and, the slope not being very steep, we found it
easy to descend in the track of the avalanche ; we
had had no difiicuky in holding fast when it started
just above us. The rocks were quickly reached,
and then the snow slope below them had to be
descended. We chose a place where the rocks
came well down towards the glacier, and, as the
snow was so extremely soft, we took the precaution,
before trusting ourselves to it, of throwing down
some large stones, in order that the snow, if it
wished to form an avalanche, might do so before it
had an opportunity of carrying us down with it.
Once fairly on the snow, we made our way as fast
as w^e could out of the reach of falling stones on to
the plateau of the Bies-glacier, and trudged along
towards the Biesjoch. On reaching that pass, snow
began to fall lightly, but the heat was intense, and
the snow on the Turtman glacier simply detestable.
We sank to our waists at every step, and at last
tried to advance on our knees, but were so over-
come by the thought of what ludicrous objects wc
112 High Life and Towers of Silence,
must be in that jjositlon, slowly advancing across
the snow-field, that our laughter obliged us to
resume a mode of progress enabling us to give all
our attention to the avoidance of crevasses, for the
strongest snow bridge would not have been safe in
such heat. It took us an hour and a half to descend
from the Biesjoch to the Bruneggjoch, a distance
covered that morning in forty minutes' ascent, and
we were glad of a little rest on rejoining our baggage
on the pass. The question then arose as to how
we should descend from there. If we took the
route, followed in the ascent, we should reach
Kerbrigen, a small village from which we should
have to walk to Randa, a distance of some miles,
before we could get a carriage to take us to Zermatt.
If, on the other hand, we crossed a stony point to
our left (looking towards Zermatt), we should reach
a pass between this point and the Inner Barrhorn,
called the Barrjoch, and, crossing this pass, be able
to descend to St. Nicholas, where we could sleep.
We decided for the latter, as I was glad to have an
opportunity of seeing more new ground. It was a
very pretty pass ; a steep snow slope leading down
beneath the cliffs of the Barrhorn, and bringing us
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence, i i
'>
out on the fine crlacier below. This c^lacicr wc
descended, and then bore away to the left, passing,
after an hour or so, below the Stellijoch, a pass
which forcibly reminded nie of Tyrolese scener\-,
with its bare, straight, regular walls of rock, between
which a glacier flowed down. As we crossed the
stony slopes, the thunder began to roll and our
axes to sing their responses in a somewhat disquiet-
ing manner. But the rain kept off till we reached
St. Nicholas at 8.30 p.m., and then it descended in
torrents. We returned to Zermatt next day.
1 14 High Life and Towers of Silence.
CHAPTER VIII.
OVER THE MATTERHORN FRO:\I VISP TO BREUIL,
AND BACK BY THE COL ST. THEODULE WITH-
OUT SLEEPING OUT.
The Matterhorn is irresistible — Alexander Burs^ener consents
to Start at ii p.m. — The hut is occupied by an American
and his guide, who have gone up to see the sunrise —
They are anxious to follow us up the Matterhorn — They
find holding on with their hands formidable work and
retire after five minutes of it — The summit of the
Matterhorn — Ice on the rocks — The ladder — Condition
of the Tyndal arete — Alexander calls for a halt till the
moon should rise — A weary descent — We are obliged
to cut steps down the whole of the glacier Du Lion —
Breuil — Alexander mounts a donkey — The Col St.
Theodule — Professor Schultz.
Though the IMattcrhorn is so well known to
climbers that they are not likely to be interested
in hearing about it, yet it may peihaps amuse
some of my readers if I tell them of a passage I
made over this mountain.
High Life and Towers of Silence. 1 15
On the morning of August 19th, 1883, I left
Visp for Zermatt, walking as far as St. Nicholas
and then driving. The weather was cloudless, and
as the carriage turned the corner where the Matter-
horn first becomes visible, its aspect as it shot
upwards against the dark-blue sky was most
inviting.
Strolling out into the garden of the Hotel
Zermatt, after dinner that evening, the mountain,
blotting out the stars with its wedge-like form,
looked still more attractive, and I suddenly re-
solved that if I could find a good guide I would
start to ascend it that very night. Having come
to this decision, I hunted about for a long time in
vain, receiving answers from all the best men to
the effect that they were engaged. At last a
friend caught sight of the dark face of Alexander
Burgener, and asked him if he would go. He had
that day crossed the Mattcrhorn with Professor
Schultz. They started at an early hour from the
hut on the Swiss side, went over to Italy, and re-
turned by the Furgenjoch. It occurred to me,
therefore, that Alexander had probably had
enough exercise for the present. However, he
I 2
I 1 6 High Life and Tozuers of Silence,
thought otherwise, and told me that he would be
ready to start by ii p.m., and Professor Schultz,
whose guide he was, having most kindly consented
to let me take him, the matter was settled. I
therefore went to m.y room about ten o'clock,
arrayed myself in climbing garb, had supper, and
punctually at eleven we set out.
A little before three w^e reached the hut, and
went in in order to make some coffee, thereby
rudely awakening from their slumbers an American
and his guide, who had slept there to see the sun-
rise. The guide was very anxious to take his
Herr up the Matterhorn, and kept on begging me
in German to urge the American to make the
attempt, Alexander meanwhile listening with a
scowl of contempt on his face. I asked the
traveller if he had made any previous ascent.
*' Oh dear, yes," he said, and mentioned some un-
familiar names of American hills, also the Corner
Grat. He then observed, surveying the mountain
with a critical air, that any way he supposed it
would not be miore difficult to go to the summit
than it had been to reach the hut, " for," he re-
marked, " to come up here we had even to hold on
HigJi Life and Tozvers of Silence. 1 1 7
with our hands in some places ! " This decided
me to let them try it, for I was quite certain that
after five minutes' "holding- on with their hands,"
they would find discretion the better part of valour.
Nor was I mistaken. We had taken but a very
few steps upwards when we saw our friend being
carefully let down on his back over a rock which was
more or less, but especially less, on a slope, and then
they were lost to sight. The climb to the summit
was trying, owing to the intense heat of the sun
beating straight on our backs. Once on the top a
cool breeze greeted us, and we spent an hour ot
intense enjoyment looking at the magnificent view
around us, the distant mountains free from a trace
of cloud, and the pointed Viso standing like a
sentinel looking towards the plains of Lombardy.
No words can convey more than the faintest idea
of the charm of such a view seen on such a day.
Brcuil lay far below. We did not intend to go
there, but to return, as Professor Schultz had done,
by the Furgenjoch.
Reluctantly I tore myself from the view, and
prepared for the gymnastics which I knew were in
store for us on the descent. There is not much
1 1 8 High Life and Toivers of Silence,
difficulty until one reaches the ladder. Here the
real scramblinc: becfins. The climber finds himself
on a sloping- slab of rock. In the centre of this
slab two cords are seen side by side. They dis-
appear at the edg-e, and the next objects which he
sees on casting his eyes over the precipice are the
pastures near Breuil, many thousand feet down.
Below the rock these ropes form a ladder, which
falls sheerly at first, and then is held back in a
loop by its lower end being attached to the nearest
point at which there is standing room. Conse-
quently, as soon as the traveller is fairly on the
ladder, it begins to swing with his weight, and the
rungs not being directly below each other on
account of its curved shape, much strain comes on
the arms while the feet grope for the next step.
A glance down should not be missed by the
climber who is sure of his head, the sight is sensa-
tional in the extreme. When I was about half-
way down the ladder I heard a loud exclamation
from Alexander, and immediately after a block of
ice flew over my head. It appeared that he had
had one of his feet on it, and, owing to the heat of
the rocks, the under part had melted and the whole
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence, 1 19
piece slipped away. As Alexander's power of
balancing himself on next to nothing- may be com-
pared to those of Blondin, no harm ensued, but
for one horrible instant I fully expected to see him
also shooting down over the ledge. There was a
good deal of ice on the rocks, in a melting and
unstable condition. The long ridge called the
Tyndall arete was covered on the top by three or
four feet of snow, and the sun had been so powerful
that very few of the tracks of ProfessorSchultz's party
could be seen, owing to the melting of the snow.
It was exceedingly unpleasant to walk in, as wc
had to make certain of our footing at each step,
the soft substance sliding off continually in small,
hissing avalanches. Our progress was thus very
slow, and it was dusk before we were fairly off the
ridge. " Well," said Alexander, " we can't go on
in the dark; the moon will rise in an hour; till then
wc must wait here." We were on a sort of plat-
form, about three feet wide and a dozen long. The
guide and the porter sat down and slept, after tether-
incT me and askincr me to call them when it should
be light enough to go on. The cold was intense.
At a distance water trickled down the rocks, but it
I20 High Life and Towers of Silence.
was impossible to reach it. Our tea and wine and
all our eatables were finished, and thirst began to
inflict its tortures on us. I walked backwards and
forwards along the ledge. Far away lay the plains
of Lombardy covered with a slowly-rising mist.
Through the curling vapour rose the Viso and
other Alpine towers of silence, with the first shim-
mer of the moon on them. Higher she came, and
the ice of the glacier began to glitter, and the
black shadows to fall across the streams of light,
and the slumbering valleys below to become visible
and show to us at what a height we were above
them.
I awoke Alexander and the porter, and we
began once more our downward way. Sometimes
I saw the beginning of a rope. Far below the
porter's voice would be heard calling to me to
come. Then I would turn my face inwards, take
the cord in my hand, and, plunging into the deep
shadow, grope my way down, Alexander often
descending with the rope looped round a rock
above him. Owing to the heat of the day and the
melting of the snow, a film of ice covered many of
the rocks. The shincrle near the bccrinning of the
High Life and Towers of Silence. 121
Couloir du Lion was transformed into a very slip-
pery glacier, irritating beyond measure to walk
down. As we approached the head of the
Glacier du Lion, the moon sank, and again Alex-
ander called for a halt. Once more I spent the
time in pacing up and down till the grey light of
early morning allowed us to set out again.
Then began the weary work of cutting steps
down the glacier, which was frozen from top to
bottom. With throats and tongues parched and
swollen from thirst and fatigue, and eyes tired from
constant watchfulness, we zigzagged down the
slope, the silence of the mountain world only
broken by the blows from the porter's axe as step
after step was hewn, or by the distant roar of the
stones which pour from time to time down the cliffs
of the Matterhorn. It was still dusk when we
reached a patch of rocks over which flowed a
tiny stream. The delight with which we filled
our drinking-cups can be imagined, and we went
on again greatly refreshed after our draught of
the somewhat muddy glacier water. It was 8 a.m.
when we entered the hotel at Breuil, lack of pro-
visions obliging us to descend to it instead of
122 High Life and Towers of Silence.
crossing back to Zermatt by the Furgenjoch.
From Brcuil there is a good bridle-path to within
an hour of the Col St. Theodule. We determined
to ride so far if any animals were forthcoming.
Breakfast concluded, we were informed that there
was a mule and also a donkey at our disposal.
For some obscure reason the mule was assigned to
me, and very comical was it to see Alexander's
powerful form mounted on a creature hardly larger
than himself. He and the porter took it in turns
to repose their wearied limbs by riding the poor
little donkey. Leaving the animals when the
glacier was reached, we walked to the Col in an
hour, and rested there for some time, the heat
being so great. Then en route once more, and at
5.30 p.m. we entered the Monte Rosa at Zermatt.
I felt most guilty in having detained Professor
Schultz's guide for so long, but he took the matter
in the kindest way possible, and assured me that
he had not been inconvenienced. Thus ended a
period of continual exertion, lasting for forty-two
and a half hours. Out of this time the guides had
had two hours' sleep while I walked about to keep
myself warm, but Alexander had been at work the
High Life and Towers of Silence. 123
whole of the day on the evening of which he
started with me ; and I, on the other hand, had
come on foot from Visp to St. Nicholas that
morning, so we all had taken quite as much exercise
as was good for us, to say the least of it.
124 High Life and Towers of Silence.
CHAPTER IX.
THIRD ASCENT OF THE HIGHEST POINT OF THE
DENT DU G£ANT.
A short account of the Dent du Gdant — Signer Alessandro
Sella's ascent — Mr. Graham's ascent — We start for the
Col du Geant — State of the hut — A thunderstorm — Bad
weather obliges us to return — Mr, Hartley's ascent —
Our second attempt — Bad weather again — We console
ourselves by a scramble up La Vierge — A fine day at
last — Burgcner's cairn — Michel enjoys himself — The
first summit — Description of the climb from the lower
to the higher peak — The view — A furious wind —
Montanvert — Mr. Donkin's photograph of the Dent du
Geant.
Such numbers of English people visit Montanvert
every year that the sharply-pointed form of the
Dent du Geant must be familiar to many of them.
I will briefly mention a few facts in connection
with this peak. Many attempts were made to
scale it at different times. Charlet Stratton, a
Chamonix guide, who first reached the summit of
High Life and Tozuers of Silence. 125
the Petit Dru, tried alone to find a way up the
Dent du Geant. He examined the mountain on
every side, and came to the conclusion that it was
impossible to ascend it without artificial aid, as by
fixing nails and ropes to the rocks. Alexander
Burgener conducted a party as far as the lower
part of some steeply sloping slabs. From this
point further progress could not be made, and a
small stone man was built, called Burgener's
cairn.
Time passed on. One day in July, 1882,
Edouard Cupelin was ascending ]\Iont IMalet, a
peak not far from the Geant. When scrambling
up some rocks near the summit (the climb being
made by a new route) the porter exclaimed, " Look !
there is a flag on the Dent du Geant ! " Cupelin,
who, at that moment, was making a move upwards
over a particularly steep and slippery piece of
rock, told the porter with some warmth not to talk
nonsense, but to attend to his work. The youth
said no more for the time being, but, when the
climbing became less severe, he again repeated his
remark, adding, " Look, and see for yourself"
Impatiently Cupelin turned to look, but no sooner
126 High Life and Towers of Silence.
had he done so than he cried, " Ma foi ! C'est blen
vrai, cependant ! " and the party bejan to specu-
late with much eagerness who the happy person
was who had made the first ascent of the Geant.
It was noticed that the flag was fixed on what
appeared to be the lower of the two points, but
they were so nearly of a height that absolute
certainty could not be felt, nor, as it afterwards
was proved, did the circumstance of the inferior
height of that part of the mountain on which the
flag was placed in the least affect the credit due to
those who made this first ascent, since the diffi-
culty in reaching the lower summit far surpasses
that found in passing from one point to the
other, the second peak exceeding the first in
height by about four or five feet only. The
next day it was known at Montanvert that Signor
Alessandro Sella, with Maquignaz as leading guide,
had accomplished the first ascent of the Dent du
Geant.
It was a work requiring both time and patience.
On many parts of the mountain ropes had to be
fixed and iron nails driven into the rock to attach
them to, as there was neither foot-hold nor hand-
High Life and Toivers of Silence, 1 2 7
hold. Maquignaz deserves the greatest credit for
his engineering of the mountain. Signer A. Sella's
ascent was followed by that of some more Italians.
The ropes left by them were poor in quality, and
by no means new. In the autumn of the same
year Mr. Graham went up the peak, accompanied
by the guides Auguste Cupelin and Payot. They
reached the higher of the two points. I should
have mentioned that the reason which induced
Signor A. Sella to return without going up both
peaks, was that, by the time he reached the
place where his flag was planted, it was already
very late in the afternoon, and every minute which
remained of daylight was required for the descent.
I state this on the authority of Signor Vittorio
Sella, a cousin of Signor A. Sella.
My guide was very desirous of following in his
brother's footsteps, and when I arrived at Mon-
tanvert in June, 1883, he suggested that we should
take advantage of the first fine day to ascend the
Geant. The weather that season was most un-
settled. We waited day after day for the sky to
clear sufficiently to give us a fair chance of attain-
ing our object. At last, on the 28th, we set out for
128 High Life and Towe7's of Silence.
the Col du Geant. The air was extremely sultry
and when we reached the snow we found it so soft
that we often sank to our knees. The guides were
heavily loaded, as Cupelin insisted on taking a
large supply of new rope to place as we went up
the rocks by the side of the cords already there, for
his brother AuG^uste had assured him that when he
made the ascent with Mr. Graham in the autumn,
the ropes were then much frayed and worn, and
hanging all the winter was not likely to have
improved them.
When we entered the hut we found that some
hard work lay before us. The floor was covered
with ice to a depth of several inches, and snow
had penetrated through crevices in the walls, and
altogether our quarters looked most comfortless.
However, some one must be the first of the season
to spend the night there, and, as we had plenty of
time before us, it was rather amusing than other-
wise to chop away the ice with our axes and shovel
out the snow. Our party consisted of the brothers
Cupelin and Michel Savioz. Two guides would
have been sufficient^ but during our winter climbs,
on all of which Michel had accompanied me as
High Life and Toi^'crs of Si/oicc. i 29
porter, he had so constantly spoken of the dclic^ht
it would give him to ascend the Geant, and his
hope that some one would take him up it before
long, that it was a real pleasure to me to let him
accompany us on this occasion, as a slight recom-
pense for the continual good-humour, willingness
to please and make himself useful, and pluck which
he showed during all our scrambles. Auguste
Tairraz was also with us, having helped to carr\'up
some of the ropes, provisions, and firewood for us.
It afterwards appeared that he was firmly resolved
to ascend the Geant instead of remainincf at the
hut during our absence, and he had settled in his
own mind that, if we refused to take him, he would
go alone ! We had been working so hard in trying
to make our hotel comfortable that a loud crash of
thunder, followed by rolling echoes which pealed
amongst the surrounding peaks, caused us to start
and look out. While the men liastily brought in
our possessions, which had been left on the rocks
outside, I went to the edge of the cliff, from which,
looking over, Courmayeur can be seen, seven
thousand feet below. The sight was one of the
grandest I have ever witnessed. Far down black
1 30 HigJi Life and Towe7's of Silence,
clouds surged up and filled the valleys. Away to
the cast one strip of pale blue sky was visible,
against which stood some of the Zermatt peaks,
white and calm and peaceful amid the howling
storm which already began to rage about their
feet. The heavens grew more and more angry-
looking, and streaks of crimson and indigo appeared
through the boiling mists. Soon the valleys were
buried in the seething mass, and only the long line
of Alpine sentinels, on the ridge of which I stood,
remained proud and untouched, looking down on
the confusion beneath while sunbeams played about
their heads. Again a roar of thunder and a
blinding flash of lightning.
" Come in ! ^' called the guides, and, as I returned
to the hut, the full force of the storm broke on the
ridge, and hail began to fall in stones as large as a
pigeon's ^g%. The clatter and noise were tremen-
dous. We could hardly hear each other speak.
The axes had long ago been placed outside, where
they could sing to their heart's content without
hurting any one, the musical talent displayed by an
ice axe during a thunderstorm being as wonderful as
it is disquieting. For some time the din of the
HigJi Life and Toivcrs of Silence. 1 3 1
storm and the flashes of lightning occupied our
attention. Cupelin was the first to speak aloud
the thought which was, I fancy, in the minds of all
of us, " We shall have to return to iMontanv^ert
to-morrow without ascending theGeant, I fear," he
remarked. Before nightfall the fury of the storm
had abated, but I can't say much for the degree
of comfort in which we spent the hours till morning.
There was about an inch of water on the floor of
the hut, owing to the melting of the ice which still
remained, despite all our efforts to get rid of it.
The furniture consisted of an extremely diminutive
table, some very narrow seats fastened along the
walls, and one plank ; this last article representing
the spring mattress of the establishment, and when
propped up by a stone under each end of it to keep
it out of the water, and placed across the hut, it
was assigned to me as my couch. I did not find it
everything which could be desired, owing to the
fact that, having once balanced myself along the
centre of it, the smallest movement disturbed the
equilibrium, and as I was once or twice so rash as
to indulge myself in a little sleep, I was generally
' awakened by a sensation of extreme cold in one of
iv 2
132 High Life and Towers of Silence.
my feet, consequent on its having found a temporary
resting-place in the lake. Two strings, with a few
frayed threads attached to them, composed what I
had been told was the great luxury of the place,
namely, a hammock.
The next morning, as soon as it was light, we
set out on our return to Montanvert. Snow was
falling heavily, and the Geant was concealed by
mist. We hid our ropes in the rocks of the
Aiguilles Marbrees, and pitied ourselves greatly.
So ended our first attempt on the Dent du Geant.
I will say only a few words concerning our second
start for that mountain. It was particularly un-
fortunate. The weather was bad for some time,
though there were occasionally single fine days.
I consulted Cupclin on the advisability of making
the ascent in one day from Montanvert. He
thought that, as he had to fix the ropes during the
climb, we should be delayed, and the time be too
short, so he said that he would like to go the first
fine day with his brother, put up the ropes, sleep
that night at the cabin on the Col du Geant, and
let Michel and me join him thereabout five o'clock
next morning, if the weather still remained good.
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence. 133
This I agreed to, and on July 4th they started. I
looked for them eagerly with a telescope at the time
I thought them likely to become visible, and my
surprise was very great when, after watching their
two figures reach the upper part of the slabs, I
noticed quite a little crowd standing near Burgener's
cairn. This, I afterwards learnt, was a party, in-
cluding Mr. Hartley and some other Englishmen,
who had come up from Courmayeur.
That night, Michel and I departed on our weary
trudge through the darkness to the Col. The sky
was clear when we started, but gradually fleecy
clouds crept over it, and, by the time that we were
all fairly on the first slopes above the Col leading
to the Geant, snow had begun to fall. Reluctantly,
we retraced our steps, and consoled ourselves as
best we could by a scramble up La Vicrge, which
we fondly believed to have been, till then, un-
climbed. All honours were paid to her, and a red
cotton handkerchief belonging to Auguste, was
tied to a rock on the summit. Then we went down
to Montanvert, preaching patience to each other
cu route.
On the night of the 13th, we quitted the hotel
134 ^^S^^ Life and Towers of Silence,
at Montanvcrt, bound for the third time for the
Geant. The stars shone from a cloudless sky, and,
as the sunrise tinged the snowy dome of Mont
Blanc with pink, we emerged from amongst the
shattered and tottering masses which form the ice
fall of the Glacier du Geant. Our peak looked
more sharply pointed than ever, seen through the
clear atmosphere, and it was difficult to realize that
we should, in a few hours, be standing on its sum-
mit. We breakfasted by the little stream which
runs through the snow above the scracs, and then
set out towards the Col. This time, we did not go
to the hut, but crossed the snow-field below the
Aiguilles Marbrees, steering straight for the slopes
of the Geant. From this point, a long and tire-
some climb landed us at the foot of the actual
peak. Arrived there, we lunched and left the knap-
sacks, ice-axes, and everything which was not
absolutely necessary, the guides turning out of
their pockets a marvellous collection of surplus
tobacco, candle-ends, old bits of bread, books of
certificates, and other nondescript articles. The
view was striking, as this part of the mountain
overhangs the valley of Courmaycur.
HigJi Life ana Tourers of Silence. 135
Before starting for the real scramble of the day,
our ninety feet of rope was attached to us in all its
length, so that there was a considerable distance
between each person. The party was arranged as
follows : — Auguste Cupelin led, his brother came
next, I was third, and Michel last. The climbing
as far as Burgener's cairn is easy, but once there,
the whole aspect of the mountain changes. Directly
above, some smooth slabs of rock are placed at a
considerable angle. They are smoothly polished,
but are divided by a crack which runs down the
centre of them. By the side of this crack, a rope
has been fixed by means of a few iron nails, which
have been placed wherever there is a crevice which
will admit of their being driven in. Above these
slabs the rock appears to rise in a sheer and un-
broken wall, but as all other sides of the peak
actually overhang, it is up the face of this cliff that
the traveller must go. Nor is it as bad as it looks.
There are no loose stones save one, which has been
called the rocking-stone, and round which the rope
passes in a loop. As the tension increases, the
stone moves a little, which does not tend to
steady the nerves of the climber, should he be
136 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
unaware of the fact that the stone is too firmly
jammed in to allow of its falling. The slabs were
decidedly pleasant to ascend, as each person goes
up directly above the other ; this is always much
less trying than traversing. It is curious to watch
this part of the climb from Montanvert. The
travellers are almost against the sky-line, and only
part of their bodies can be seen, the crack con-
cealing the rest. They look, through the telescope,
like flies on a church spire, as they creep slowly up
the steep slabs.
As we ascended this part of the mountain, I
could hear Michel telling himself, with many ex-
clamations of delight, how much he was enjoying
the scramble, and the continual grin on his face
widened to an alarming extent whenever, as was
not unfrequently the case, he could find no resting-
place either for hands or feet. Altogether, he was
evidently having what our American cousins would
call " a real good time." Above the slabs
there is a ledge which must be followed for a little
distance. Here there is a cord which generally
forms a hand-rail, but on this occasion it was buried
in the fresh snow which was plastered up against
High Life and Tozvcrs of Silence, 137
it. Then comes a short gulley, with an unpleasant
amount of ice in it. Emerg-ing from the gully, the
work becomes easier till some more slabs are
reached. These have to be traversed, and I thought
the few steps across them the most difficult of the
whole climb, as there really is hardly room for one
or two nails in the side of one's boot, in the tiny
ledges, and each step must be a long one. Then
the rocking-stone is reached, and soon afterwards
some perpendicular gullies. A fixed rope hangs
down the centre of them, and the ascent of this
passage is very fatiguing for the arms, as almost
the whole weight of the body comes on them. It
is a relief when a sort of shoulder, slightly pro-
jecting from the first peak, is reached. Here there
is a place large enough for several persons to stand
at ease before assaulting the last slope of the lower
tooth. The flagstaff is not seen till one reaches
this peak, but once there, all the rest of the route
is in full view. The second peak is seen to be
joined to the first by a sort of pass, consisting in a
ridge which falls away sheerly to a depth of many
thousand feet on either side. To reach this little
Col, a descent of some forty feet or so must be
13S High Life and Tozuers of Silence,
made. The peculiarity of this arete which thus
connects the two summits, consists in a hump of
rock perched on it which juts out on one side just
where the ridc^e must be struck. This obstacle has
to be passed round; it cannot, owing to the peculiar
formation of the rid^e, be climbed over. Con-
sequently, the traveller must clasp his arms round
it and grasp what he can with his left hand,
gradually worming himself in that direction.
Meanwhile, the man above has a firm footing (what
Cupelin would describe as " solide comme un
boeuf!"), and could easily check a slip, and there
is also good standing-room on the ridge for the
leading guide, so this awkward little passage is not
really dangerous or even very difficult, though it is
extremely uncomfortable. Once on the ridge, the
highest point is easily attained from there.
The actual summit consists of a flat slab of rock
perhaps six feet wide and as many long. No part
of the descent can be seen, except the lower peak,
as the rock falls away in vertical and, in some parts,
in overhanging walls on all sides.
We felt as if our platform floated in mid-air,
amongst the spires and domes of the great moun-
High Life and Towers of Silence. 139
tains around, so completely did \vc seem to he
separated from the earth below. Far down, the
silent stream of the Mer de Glace flows onwards
towards Montanvert. Lower still, on the other
side of the range, the green fields and valleys,
purple where the shadows fall, may be seen, backed
by the pointed Grivola, Grand Paradis, and other
peaks of the Graian Alps, and further still, if the
eye could penetrate the rising mist, the cities of
northern Italy, and the battle-field of Magenta
might be observed. Even as our eyes ranged over
the wonderful panorama spread round us, the
clouds began to travel up, driven by a furious
wind, and a rapid change in the weather was
evidently not far distant.
We hastily prepared to quit the spot, which for
so long we had looked forward eagerly to reaching,
and hardly were we under weigh when snow began
to fall, and the wind to howl and rage amongst the
cliffs. We had often to stop on our downward way,
and cling with all our force to the rocks, as the
gusts of wind made frantic dashes at us, and seemed
as if they would tear us from our insecure positions.
A couple of hours sufficed for us to reach the place
140 High Life and Towers of Silence,
where we had left the knapsacks, and then our
difficulties were over. A violent thunderstorm
came on soon after we had passed through the
seracs of the Geant, and we were drenched to the
skin by the time that the hospitable doors of
Montanvert opened to admit us.
An extremely successful photograph has been
taken by Mr. W. F. Donkin, of the higher peak of
the Dent du Geant, from the lower peak. The
enlargements from his negative are so striking
that an invalid friend of mine, seeing one of these
pictures hanging up in my sitting-room one
evening, had such a severe nervous attack in con-
sequence of the impression it gave him of the
horrors of the peak, that a doctor had to be called
up during the night to administer remedies.
I recommend any of my readers who desire to
become better acquainted with this mountain
than I can make them by any verbal description,
to examine one of these photographs at Spooner's,
in the Strand. Taking a camera up such a peak
was, in itself, a wonderful feat.
iV
' W^t^^^-i
High Life and Tozuej^s of Silence. 141
CHAPTER X.
PRIMITIVE CUSTOMS OF SOME ALPINE
VILLAGES.
Wiesen in ^vinter and spring — Result of a death in the
village — Agriculture — Haymaking — Pontresina in winter
— Treatment of criminals — The policeman — Education
— Examination of porters at Chamonix who desire
to become guides — Notice-boards — Advertisements —
Wiesen again — Laws against riding, driving, and to-
bogganning on certain days — The watchman — A village
concert — A wedding — Excursions — A ball — Feats of
strength — A digression in order to relate some amusing
incidents of a winter stay in the heights — Bradshaw
does his best to amuse the continental traveller.
In order to learn the quaint customs of the in-
habitants of some of the small Alpine villag-es,
one must live in them at all seasons of the year,
but more especially during the months when
strangers do not travel. It is also necessary to
gain the confidence of the natives, and to be on
very friendly terms with them, encouraging them
142 High Life and Toiuers of Silence,
to speak of their local affairs, and taking an interest
in all that concerns them.
I have lived, during all last winter, in the little
village of Wiesen, in the Chiton of the Orisons.
This lovely place is known in summer principally
to Swiss and Germans, but until 1884-85 it had
not been frequented in winter. During the winter
mentioned, however, five English people stayed
there, and last season there were about twenty winter
guests. The climate is milder than that of Davos,
and, when the snow begins to melt, the drying of the
roads takes place very quickly, owing to the steep-
ness of the slope on which the village is built.
Wiesen is 4771 feet above the level of the sea, and
about a thousand above the river. The scenery all
round is magnificent, and in spring the landscape
becomes fairy-like in its beauty. The slopes are
studded with blue gentians and lilies of the valley,
and woods of larch and pine clothe the hill-sides,
while above, the glaciers of Piz d'Aela glitter and
shine, and the Tinzenhorn and Piz Michel stand
as sentinels on the chain which separates the
valley of the Landwasser from the Engadine.
Wiesen is reached in six hours from Chur, and
High Life and Tozuers of Silence. 143
in an hour and a half from Davos. The villac^ers
are very simple in their ideas, and some of their
customs are excessively curious and primitive.
It sometimes happens that one of the peasants
by reason of extreme old age, dies. The whole
population of the village at once clothes itself in
black, and continues to wear mourning for three
weeks. Perhaps this custom may have originated
in the fact that, in so small a community, each
person is'-related in a more or less distant degree
to every one else. The peasants, though very
poor, are not in actual want, but great thrift is
necessary for them to gain enough to keep them.
Wages are very low, the women receiving seven
pence (70 centimes), and their food, for working in
the fields from six o'clock in the morning till dusk,
while the men make fifteen pence (i franc 50 cen-
times), and often less, their food being also given
them.
The soil is very poor and, in some places, so thin
that the rock is reached at a depth of a foot or
less below the surface. Owing to the excessively
steep slope of the ground near Wiesen, the earth
slips down during the year to a considerable
144 ^^^'^^ -^^fo ^^^^ Tozve7^s of Silence. ■
extent, and, in order that the upper parts may not
become quite bare, the following method of keep-
ing up the soil is resorted to. A post is driven
into the ground at the top of the slope. To this
post a pulley is fastened, with a rope of platted
hide passed round it. A wheelbarrow is attached
to each end of the rope, and, as one of the
labourers descends, he pulls up the man who is
mounting, whose barrow is filled with soil from
a trench dug along the bottom of the field.
This soil is put above, and thus replaces the earth
which has slipped gradually down. The land
must be treated in this way every year, thereby
adding another to the many difficulties of cul-
tivating the fields in the mountainous districts of
Switzerland.
In spring the land is ploughed. To accomplish
this four cows are required. As very few families
possess so many, they unite together, and perhaps
each family contributes one. Then they go and
work on the field belonging to the owner of one of
the cows, and when that is finished, pass on to the
next, and so on till all is done, the whole of the
four families joining in the work. The cows are
High Life and Toiucrs of Silence. 145
guided by a child, who walks in front and flicks
them on their noses with a switch, when they have
to turn at the end of a furrow. Two ploughs are
used, each drawn by a pair of cows. The first
breaks up the ground, and the second, following
immediately after, turns it over and makes the
furrow. Then some women break up the clods
with hoes, and a man walks after them, carrying a
bag of seed, which he scatters with his hand. The
final operation consists in raking the ground, in
order that the seed may be covered. In the
evening, when the day's work is over, the different
families may be seen returning home, carrying
their ploughs on their shoulders.
In hay-making time the peasants again turn out
in families, and, in some places, where the ground
is extremely steep, the danger of a slip is so great
that the hay-makers are roped. This can be seen
every autumn on the slopes below the Cap de
Moine, near Les Avants. The peasants are usually
very peaceable and honest, but of course now and
then a crime, generally on a very small scale, is com-
mitted. As a rule there is a place for locking uj)
prisoners in the villages, constructed in the most
L
146 High Life and Towers of Silence.
primitive manner possible, regular prisons being
only found in the towns.
The subject of prisons recalls to me some
amusing anecdotes related by a friend who has,
for many years, been a constant visitor to Pon-
tresina. It appears that whenever it is necessary
to lock up an evil-doer at Pontresina, it is the
custom to confine him in a room in the school-
house. Some time ago an Italian was sentenced
to a short term of imprisonment for stealing a
pocket-handkerchief Feeling very thirsty in the
night, he took out his knife, screwed off the lock
of the door, and going downstairs, knocked at the
schoolmaster's door to beg for a glass of water.
This unsuspicious individual gave it to him, and
on the man's promising to return to his cell, he
went to sleep again. The Italian, having got what
he wanted, went back to his room, and proceeded
to screiv the lock on again. In the morning he
was still in confinement, no doubt considering it
a luxury to have a bed to. sleep on, good food to
cat, and no work to do for several days.
Last winter an Italian stole two watches and
was placed in the same room, but he preferred
High Life and Towers of Silence, i 47
pusliinij the bars of the prison window aside and
letting himself down to the ground b\' a rope
made out of the bedclothes, in preference to dis-
turbing the schoolmaster. This may be accounted
for by the prisoner's being " wanted " in Italy for
half-murdering his wife. Another curious custom
is that, at the end of the visitors' season, the
street lamps are dismantled, and tlie village
policeman is sent away to visit Pontresina only
once a month during the winter, just to see if
any one wants to be taken up. This official makes
up for his lack of work in winter by great activity in
summer. The fact mav be accounted for, when it
is remembered that he receives half the fines in-
flicted on persons who walk on the grass, thereby
injuring the hay, or otherwise transgress the laws.
He carries a book containing various statutes,
and, if he spies a nurse and children, of peculiarly
inoffensive aspect, sitting innocently on the grass,
he marches up to them, and, taking the book from
his pocket, proceeds to read out the law relating
to their offence. Having concluded, lie holds out
his hand for the fine, but the offenders, being Eng-
lish, and not having understood a word of what
L 2
148 High Life and Toilers of St knee,
he has read to them, are completely mystified,
evidently taking him for a skirmisher of the
Salvation Army, and simply shake their heads,
whereupon the policeman begins again, and once
more reads the paragraph from beginning to end,
this performance occasionally continuing for some
time.
The winter is the season devoted to education,
and the society at Pontresina, for keeping the
paths and ways in order, procured some free
instruction in geology for the guides a year or
two ago, in order that when making excursions
in summer with travellers their conversation might
be more interesting, and that their minds might
be improved by a wider range of knowledge. A
geologist from Sils came over to give them lessons,
and at one of the classes he stated, with some
pride, that he would send a large parcel of stones,
which he himself had collected, the next day
by post from Sils to Pontresina. An old guide
sitting by, whose conservatism is well known,
and whose identity will be at once recognized
by frequenters of Pontresina, raising his hand and
pointing towards the mountains, remarked in tones
High Life and Tozvers of Silence. 149
of much scorn, " Stones ! send stones by post !
Why we have more stones than we know what to
do with up the slopes behind the village! I've
been up many a mountain without all this useless
knowledge ! Show me any man who will go up a
peak better because he can talk about stones ! "
Apropos of the wish to raise the standard of educa-
tion amongst guides, it may amuse my readers to
hear the answers giv^en by some Chamonix porters
at an examination held in that village for the
purpose of finding out whether several young men,
who had till then acted as porters were eligible for
reception into the society of guides. I quote from
notes made on the spot.
Exainiiier. — " How do you know where the
north is ? "
Porter. — " By the sun being there."
Examiner. — " What is Switzerland } "
Porter. — " A kingdom."
Examiner. — " How would vou cross the crevasse
often found between a glacier and a moraine } "
Porter. — " By stepping over."
Examiner. — " But if it is very wide 1 "
Porter. — " Build a bridge across
, ))
150 High Life and Tozuers of Silence.
Examiner. — " Nonsense ! "
Porter. — " Go home again ? "
Examiner. — ^^ Never I Cut steps, of course. Now,
tell me what you would do if a traveller who was
with you was very cold and tired, and wanted to
go to sleep on a glacier ? "
Porter. — " I would tell him not to."
Examiner. — " But if he insisted } "
Porter. — ''Then I would beat him."
The examiner did not seem to think these
answers unusual, and the candidate passed. But
to return to Pontresina.
The troops of English who visit this place in
summer do not appear to have imparted much
skill in their language to its inhabitants, judging
from the wording: of some of the notice-boards.
We are informed, when we enter some of the
woods, that " In the months of July and August it
will cuttered the wood in the forest. Because by
the transport thereof stones are coming down, it
is necessary to have care to it." While speaking
of the frequent mutilation our language receives at
the hands of foreigners, I must also mention the
notices posted up in a hotel not five miles from
IligJi Life and Toiuers of Silence, i 5 i
Pontrcsina. On the door of the salon \vc read
*' Dogs will by all means be chased from public
rooms," and "To prevent disagreeableness and
reclamation for lunchon and diner table d'hote
visitors are highly requested to be at the appointed
tims." A leading article in the organ of that
town began, " Why those hills of shadow tint
appear more sweet tl an all the landscapes smil-
ing near this distance lends enchantment to the
view."
Though it relates to Italy and not to Switzer-
land, I cannot forbear adding one more extremely
amusing notice. I copied it from an advertisement
posted up at the railway station at Bordighera.
Here it is : —
*' I beg to inform travelling people that I have
established a first class Hotel at Arengano, 40
minutes from Pegli, Riviera di Poncnte. This
house, situeted suth, sorrownded by a beautiful
oranges gardens — has a splendid view upon the
coast till Genoa reparated from the north windy
and wery kealthy. There finds the all beautiful,
viz., a very swit climate by all seaifon, a very good
service, ecc, ccc.
152 High Life and Toive^^s of Silence.
" The actual master is the same Mrs. woho kept
the Hotel d'Angleterre a Pegli."
The Swiss health resort which is famed for " its
dustless atmosphere and extraordinary frequency
of tourists," while "the hotel is furnished with
balconies and extensive views," does not compare
in the quaintncss with which the advertisement is
worded with that recommending the establish-
ment kept by the " Mrs." who owned the Angleterre
at Pegli.
But to return to Wiesen and its unsophisticated
inhabitants. Some of the laws, which I believe are
in force in all the towns and villages in that part of
the world, seem very autocratic to strangers. For
instance, there are three days in the year, Christmas
Day, Easter Day, and Harvest Thanksgiving Day,
on which no one but the pastor and the doctor is
allowed to ride, drive or toboggan. Each able-
bodied man in the commune is obliged to work on
the roads for a certain number of days every year^
unless he prefers to pay for a substitute. After a
heavy snowfall, nearly the whole village turns out
to open the communication and make the roads
practicable for sledges ; and, in the spring, when
Hio^h Life and Towers of Silence. 1 5
■^
some parts of the road are free from snow, before
the old winter drifts have melted in other places,
large parties of men and women spend their time,
from sunrise to sunset, in breaking the hard-frozen
substance and shovelling it off the road, where it
quickly dissolves, and thus the track is prepared
for wheeled vehicles. Wiesen, like Pontresina, is
very quiet and peaceable in winter, and the police-
man divides himself between Wiesen and Filisur,
a village about six miles distant by carriage-road.
There is, however, an official in each village, whose
duty it is to look after the safety of the inhabitants.
I made this person's acquaintance for the first time
one night in spring, while spending a few weeks at
Wiesen. I was awakened about midnight by a
terrible noise under my window. It might have
been shouting or it might have been quartlling, in
any case it made the night hideous, and, as the
sounds died away at length in the distance, I
determined that I would speak my mind to Mr.
Palmy, the hotel-keeper, and beg him to have the
disturber of my slumbers restrained.
" Mr. Palmy," I remarked next morning, " there
was a very disorderly person making a great noise
154 High Life and Towers of Silence.
under my window late last night ; he ought not to
be allowed to wander about and make such a com-
motion at that hour ! "
" What time was it ? " Mr. Palmy inquired.
''About midn^'ght, I think," was my reply.
" Then," said Mr. Palmy, " it must have been
the ivatclinian ! "
" The watchman ! " I exclaimed ; " but why does
he make such a noise } "
''Oh, he sings," Mr. Palmy replied.
*' Does he ? " I inquired, somewhat sceptically.
" Do you know the words of his song ? "
"Yes," said Mr. Palmy, "this is the verse he
sings at midnight —
" Hort, Ihr Herren, und lasst Euch sagen,
Unsere Clock hat Zwolf geschlagen,
Zwolf das ist die End der Zeit ;
Mensch bedenk der E\vi2[keit." '
" One would think of ' the end of time ^ on hear-
ing him sing," I observed, " even without undcr-
* " Hear, my masters, let me tell,
Twelve has sounded from our bell,
Twelve, which is of time the end,
Bids you think what road you wend."
High Life and Towers of Si knee. 155
standing the words ; anything more appalh'ng I
never had the misfortune to hear ! "
]\Ir. Palmy then told me that the watch is kept
by a different person each month, all the villagers
taking it in turn to fulfil this duty. Fortunately,
the individual with the remarkable voice who dis-
turbed me so much seems to combine strength of
lungs and originality of execution to an extent not
shared by his neighbours, not a few of whom are
really » musical, and when a monster concert is
given at Alveneu by the choirs of the neigh-
bouring villages, much of the singing is very good
indeed.
A wedding in one of these little villages is a
curious sight. The bride is ahva)'s dressed in
black, and, on her head, she wears a wreath of
orange blossoms, from the back of which a long
pig-tail of the same flowers hangs below her waist.
Those of the wedding guests who wish to do much
honour to the occasion, also appear in black, and
after the ceremony, which closely resembles our
own, it is not uncommon to see the bride start off
for a long walk, accompanied by a number oi her
friends, while the bridegroom remains at home
1 56 HigJi Life and Tozuers of Silence.
with the other men. A dance takes place in the
evening, and the festivities are kept up during the
greater part of the night. I have often wondered
how the youths of Wiesen manage to propose for
their wives ; one never sees the men and women
together. On Sundays, before service, they wait
outside the church in two separate parties, and on
the arrival of the pastor, ready dressed in his
black gown, they all flock into the building after
him and take their places on different sides of the
aisle. They never walk together, and, when work-
ing in the fields, the women invariably keep in one
group and the men in another.
Three excursions are made during the winter in
sledges. They take place on Sundays, and one of
them is participated in only by the couples who
have become engaged during the past year, another
by those married within that time, and the third
is undertaken by all the young people of the
village, the men paying for the sledges. Each
sledge holds two persons, the composition of the
pairs being determined by lot.
Dancing is indulged in to a great extent in the
winter months. The ball begins usually at two
o
tr.
o
H
HigJi Life and Tozuers of Silence. 157
o'clock in the afternoon. At six o'clock dinner is
partaken of, each girl bringing cakes and bread
for herself and her partner, and the young men
supplying coffee and wine. Dancing is continued
after dinner, and goes on the entire night, the
entertainment not concluding until seven o'clock
next morning. Instead of going home and resting
after all this exercise, the men spend an hour or
two after the ball in feats of strength. Some of
these trials of strength consist in two men sitting
one on each side of a table, who clasp their right
hands. Each man then pushes to his left, and
whoever draws down his opponent's hand to the
table is the winner. Again, two men placing
themselves as above, lock the second fingers of
their right hands together, and try who can pull
the hardest ; sometimes neither will give in till
one or the other dislocates a finger. Another of
these feats, in which also two men sitting on each
side of a table engage, is this. The competitors
place the elbow of the right arm on the table, then
closing their hands, they press the outside of the
fingers, from the knuckles to the central joints,
against each other, and push as hard as possible,
15S HigJi Life and Toiuers of Silence.
each endeavouring to force his opponent's hand o^
the table, and they will not unfrequently refuse to
accept defeat till most of the skin has been rubbed
off their fingers.
At a certain well-known hotel in the Canton of
the Orisons, there was once upon a time a secretary
who was very proud of his knowledge of English.
Any orders which were given to him in that lan-
guage had a curious way of not being carried out,
but as he always replied, "Yes, sir, I quite under-
stand," whenever he was told anything, it did not
seem at first as if want of comprehension had
anvthincT to do with it.
One day an English clergyman, staying in the
hotel, asked the secretary if he could get four
Oxford frames for him, and went on to say,
" Probably you don't know what Oxford frames
are like ; I can show you som.e to give you an
idea."
" Yes, sir, I quite understand what you want,"
the secretary replied, as usual.
A few days later the hotel-keeper, meeting the
visitor who had ordered the Oxford frames, said to
him, —
High Life and Towers of Silence. 159
" My secretary tells me, sir, that you have
requested him to procure you four oxen. I am
afraid we can only supply you with one at present,
but the other three shall be forthcoming in a day
or two."
An English lady, asking the Swiss doctor in one
of these Alpine health-resorts, if he could recom-
mend her a cook, was greatly amused when he
answered, " I find it much easier to become a wife
than to become a cook in these places ! " This
unfortunate German word bekominen (to get) is
very often translated into " become " by persons
who have an imperfect knowledge of English, and
I have heard a friend plaintively observing at a
railway station, that she found it quite impossible
to " become " her luggage !
The same Swiss doctor whom I have mentioned
above, was heard regretting last winter that the
lung of one of his patients was ''very sensible
(sensitive) in taking cold so easily."
And now a i^w words about that outof-the-vvay
little place, Jenisberg, the tiny village across the
valley, which can only be approached on foot, in
an hour's walking from Wiesen.
i6o High Life and Towers of Silence.
Jenisberg has its spiritual wants supplied by the
pastor from its neighbour opposite, who goes over
once a year to hold a service. It seems curious
that it should possess a church which is so seldom
made use of. This annual service takes place
during the summer, when most of the peasants
are on the Alps high above the village with their
cattle. It is not too far for them to come down
to attend church at Jenisberg, but they would not
have time to pilgrimage over to Wiesen as they do
during the winter. The baptisms and weddings,
however, take place at the larger village, and the
babies who come to be christened are often so
swathed in garments and covered with veils, that,
on at least one occasion, a child was found to have
been smothered en ronte^ the parents not under-
standing that lack of air could possibly be injurious.
The pastors of some of these villages have an
easy, and for Switzerland, a luxurious life. The
minister at Wiesen holds a service at Filisur on
alternate Sundays, and also is obliged to go, as
stated above, once a year to Jenisberg. For the
fulfilment of these duties he receives a salary of
;^I20 a year, a house, a supply of wood, which the
Grand Moulin, Morteratsch Glacier.
Page 48.
High Life, and Toivers of Silence. i6i
peasants take it in turns to cut up for him, and as
many sacks of potatoes as he is likely to require.
He has a little garden, and devotes a good deal of
his time to his bees, and may often be seen
visiting the hives with a sieve over his face, round
which sacking is sewn, which covers his head and
neck, and preserves him from any risk of stings.
But this chapter has quite overrun the limits,
which even the most indulgent of my readers would
be likely to prescribe as sufficient for one set of
subjects, so I will try and tell them about some-
thing quite different in the next few pages, finish-
ing this chapter with a piece of information taken
verbatim from " Bradshaw's Continental Guide"
(May, 1885), page 147.
" The Tete-Noire is one of the most picturesque
passes in Switzerland, has a museum, baths, and a
spire church, where a priory was founded in the
eleventh century."
Truly, the Tete-Noire must be a remarkable
pass !
Until some months ago travellers were informed
b>^ the same guide, that there was a diligence from
Visp to Zermatt, and, turning to the pages devoted
M
1 62 High Life and Towers of Silence,
to a time-table of the Swiss posts, the hour of
starting of this phantom conveyance could be
found. I have often wondered what the feeling
of unsuspecting tourists would be on arriving at
Visp, with a large supply of American trunks,
at the sight of the " diligence," which consists
of one or two baggage-nmles, or sometimes, I
believe, only of the postman.
But the immense accumulation of information
which '* Bradshaw's Guide " gives us, is too valuable
for its editor not to have merited our warm thanks
and admiration.
VILLAGE CHILDREN AT WlEbEN T0130GGANNING.
HigJi Life and Tozuers of Silence, 163
CHAPTER XL
THREE VERY SMALL SCRAMBLES.
The Riffelhorn from the glacier — We decide to descend by
the same route — Imseng distinguishes himself. The
last gully — We make the descent — Guides who chuckle
reassuringly — Advantages and disadvantages of Pontre-
sina in summer — " The Sisters " — Christian Grass —
Zermatt again — We start for the Rothhorn — Mist — We
go up the Unter Gabelhorn from the Triftthal — Dr.
Mosely's gully.
Many of my readers have been, I am quite sure,
to the Corner Grat, passing on the rii^^ht the little
Riffelhorn. And, no doubt, a great number of
those who have visited the former point of view,
have also scrambled up the latter. Hie Riffelhorn
must therefore be familiar to not a few, and those
who know it by sight as well as those who have
climbed it, may be interested in hearing how we
made what seems to have been the first descent of
M 2
164 High Life and Towel's of Silence,
that part of the mountain commonly known as the
route from the glacier.
The weather for some time had been very un-
promising-, but the Riffelhorn is always a good
object for a walk whenever the higher peaks are
concealed by clouds.
I had so often been up the Riffelhorn by the
ordinary route, that I eagerly caught at the sug-
gestion of a friend that we should go up from the
glacier. We set out one morning ivith the object
of making this excursion, and my friend had Peter
Taugw^lder as his guide, while I was accompanied
by Abraham Imseng. The latter volunteered to
take us straight up from the glacier by a route
which seemed to be more in his brain than on the
mountain, for, after leaving us spread out like
limpets on some steep glacier-polished rocks, he
went on to explore. While we waited he contrived
to wriggle himself into a position from which he
could neither move up nor down, and he was
obliged to call Peter to his aid, the latter passing
us with some difficulty, as we adhered as best we
could to the slippery face of rock. As soon as
Imseng was dislodged, we all went down again
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence, 165
to tl\c glacier and tried once more further back.
Here the rocks were more broken, and, after
mounting them for a Httle time, \vc reached the
foot of the gully, up which we had to go. We sat
down and lunched there, as the afternoon was
getting on, our walk up the glacier, which we had
taken in preference to the path by the Riffel, having
consumed some hours. But we were in no hurry,
as the. charm of the work before us lay in its
quality, rather than in its quantity.
After halting for half an hour or so, the two
guides began a series of wonderful gymnastics on
the rocks above. First, Imseng struggled a little
way up, with some prodding and much verbal
encouragement from Peter. Then, finding that
grasping a rock with both arms and kicking his
toes against upright slabs where no foothold
existed, did not facilitate his ascent or allay the
growing impatience of the guide below, he suddenly
let go and subsided with a long slip and a clatter
amongst the stones beneath. Then Peter made
an attempt, but without any niore satisfactory
results.
P'inally, Imseng gave up in despair, and bearing
1 66 High Life and Towers of Silence.
to the left, found an easy passage, by mounting
which he reached the upper part of the guUey.
Setthng himself comfortably and securely amongst
the rocks, he threw down the loose end of the rope,
which was caught by Peter, and then our share in
the work began, Peter directing us from below. I
was the first to start. A good pull at a projecting
rock brought me into a place resembling a chim-
ney, from which one side had been broken away,
while three remained standing. In this cJieniince
Jarge icicles had formed and hung all round.
Obeying Peter's orders, I placed my feet on the
Jittle ledges which are most conveniently placed
here and there for a short distance up it. Then
the rock overhangs and the cJiciniiice must be
quitted, and some slabs to the left gained. This is
the difficult bit. As the climber leans over, the
rope also drawing him in the same direction, he
feels as if a touch from a feather would disturb his
equilibrium and turn him over, in which case he
would find himself lying on his back on a smooth,
steep slab, with his feet dangling helplessly over
the precipice, and he himself only kept in position
by the guide above who holds the rope, but from
HioJi Life and Toiuers of Silence. 167
whom he is completely hidden, so that a sudden
pull or letting out may be expected at any
moment as an encouragement to come on,
which the poor traveller is, of course, quite
unable to do. Therefore, as far as I can re-
member, as soon as I had partly reached the
slabs, Peter shouted to me to pass the rope to
my right side (it was then at my back), and this I
did by slipping myself along under it. Directly I
had a firm hold of it the rest was easy, and, before
long, I had joined Imseng, and was undoing the
end of the rope which was tied round my waist, in
order to throw it down to my companion. He
climbed up with ease, Peter followed, and in a
minute or two we all stood on the summit of the
Riffelhorn.
Having compared notes as to our various sen-
sations coming up^ we began to prepare for the
scramble down again. One of the guides, I think
it was Peter, was the first to be launched, and
judging from the number of times he called out to
Imseng not to let the rope out so fast, he was
evidently having a lively time of it, for it was, of
course, much more difficult for the first man, as he
1 68 High Life and Towers of Silence.
had no one to direct him and tell him when he was
near a foothold. At length the check on the rope
ceased, and Imseng drew it up and attached my
friend, sending him forth in a way which resembled
the action of a fisherman throwing his bait. This
time, things appeared to go more easily, and I w^as
encouraged for my attempt by the information,
which was shouted to me from below, that " it is
all right as long as you don't let yourself turn over
on your back ! " Tied in my turn to the free end
of the rope, I departed on my knees. The one
awkward little bit was got over more easily than
I had expected, and soon I was wedged in the
cJieinince. While taking the last few downward
steps, I was somewhat startled when all the ninety
feet of rope arrived in a bundle from above, alighting
just between me and my companions, and Imseng's
eternal chuckle was faintly heard from overhead,
as he left his post and started for the descent
by the ordinary route. Cheerfulness in guides
is a quality I much admire, and when their
cheerfulness is of the kind displayed to per-
fection by Peter Dangl, it tends to raise one's
spirits ; but if, on remarking to a guide tliat one
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence. 169
wishes he would be quick, as the ice-pinnacles
above look very shaky, his response is to stop and
giggle, then I consider his cheerfulness exaspe-
rating to the last degree, for I think that there is
nothing so trying in risky positions as a reassuring
chuckle. Imseng is a good guide, and, I am sure,
an excellent person in every way, but I do wish
that he would reform his habit of chuckling at
moments when it is by no means a pi'opos.
Now, I must ask you to travel with me up the
Rhone Valley, across the Furka Pass and the
Oberalp to Chur, and thence to the Engadine.
The Engadine in summer is crowded to over-
flowing by our compatriots, and, for some obscure
reason, many of those who go there return to it
year after year. The air is certainly magnificent,
though not finer than that of Saas-Fee. The
scenery, too, is beautiful, but I cannot admit that
it will compare with the Riffel Alp, Fee, Bel Alp,
or many other places. The hotels are overcrowded,
and their proprietors, as a rule, independent and
disobliging. I do not care to stay in a place where,
if I complain of the food, I am liable to be told
that my rooms are required for the following day.
I 70 High Life and Towers of Silence.
For invalids, the Engadine has the advantage of
being easy of access, owing to its carriage-road, of
having a climate free from the mists which most
places situated on hill-sides are more or less liable
to, of good doctors, of short, level and shady
walks, and plenty of society to amuse those who
are not strong enough to walk far.
But the more robust will naturally prefer other
hunting-grounds, where the mountains are finer,
the hotel-keepers anxious to make travellers com-
fortable, and the majority of the guides neither
extortionate in their charges, nor ignorant of all
peaks and passes except those in their own district.
I had heard so much of the charms of the
Engadine in summer, that I wished to visit it at
that season, and one July, when the weather was
fine, and Pontresina, as usual, crowded with people,
I found myself there.
Most of my walks that summer were quite un-
eventful, so I shall only speak of one, which was
amusing to us who took part in it, and possibly a
very short description of it may recall a pleasant
scramble to my readers, many of whom have
doubtless made the excursion.
The Westerly Teak of the Two Sisters, from the Easterly Peak.
Page 171.
High Life and Towers of Silence. i 71
Young Christian Grass, an excellent little Pon-
tresina guide, scrambled with me one day, soon
after my arrival, over the peaks of the Two Sisters,
As we stood on the summit of the lower or
easterly point, I was much struck by the appear-
ance of the highest, or westerly '* sister." The
walls of rock on the side facing us looked too
unbroken to admit of their beincf climbed without
very great difficulty, and the view of the preci-
pitous and sharply-pointed peak, with St. Moritz
and its lake, and the range of Piz Ot behind the
Engadine valley forming the background, was
very impressive.
" I wish we had the camera with us," Christian
remarked to me, as we discussed the view in front
of us; '^we might come back another day, and
then you could take a photograph from here," he
added.
This suggestion was a good one, and I decided
to act on it, our reason for having left the camera
at home on this occasion, being the uncertainty of
the weather, which was very cloudy when we set
out.
A short time afterwards, meeting a friend who
1/2 H^g^^ L^f<^ ^^^^^ Towers of Silence.
was anxious to ascend " The Sisters," we agreed to
make the excursion together, and another friend
also deciding to join us with her guide, we settled
to start the following morning, the two guides
undertakings to look alter the three travellers.
But just as Miss S. and myself, with Christian
Grass, were about to set out, a little note came
from our mutual friend, telling us that, as she
intended to start that night for Piz Roseg, she
feared to over-fatigue herself if she ascended " The
Sisters ^^ in the morning. We were therefore left
with Christian as our sole guide, and as he had one
lady to conduct up the peak who had never set
foot on a mountain before, another who finds it
all she can do on rocks to look after herself, and,
worse than all, he was obliged to carry the
camera sticks, and prevent them from getting
jammed into gullies and hooked on to pro-
jecting rocks, I think that his hands were pretty
full. He shared my opinion, but engaged to
get us all up somehow in time. Arriving on
the little Col between the ea.^terly peak of
"The Sisters^' and Piz Murigal, the rope was
put on. Having expected our friend to bring
High Life and Toivers of Silence, i 73
another long enough for three people, Christian
had only with him a cord of sufficient length for
two^ and as his mind was much disquieted by
seeing me following unroped, I respected his
feelings, and wedged myself in between two rocks,
solemnly promising not to move till he should
return from taking Miss S. and the camera to the
top of the first peak. Miss S. went very well
indeed, but not so the tripod, for, in some places,
Christian found it more convenient to push it up
in front of him, leaving it on a ledge till he could
give it another lift on. Reaching the summit,
Miss S. and the camera were deposited in a safe
place, and down little Christian scrambled to my
nook. As soon as I had joined Miss S., Christian
suggested that they should begin their climb to
the other peak, while I arranged the camera and
got everything ready for taking a picture. I
wished to have their figures in it, as this would
increase the interest of the photograph, and give
an idea of the size of the mountain. It was curious
to watch them as they gradually mounted the
wall of rock in front,and one realized how extremely
deceptive its appearance of difficulty was, by the
1 74 High Life and Towers of Silence.
ease with which they rose, step by step. As they
reached a shoulder which projects to the left,
and stood out against the sky line, I clapped my
hands. This was the signal agreed upon, and
they at once remained still. I made an exposure
and released them from their position by again
clapping my hands. As soon as they arrived on
the summit I again photographed them. The
view turned out to be the best taken that day, and
when enlarged by the Autotype Company it really
made a very effective picture. Christian was much
pleased with what I fancy he looked upon as our
joint production, and placed the copy which I
gave him in a place of honour in his house. If
the climb up " The Sisters," from the Col to the
summit of the second point was a matter of three
hours, instead of less than a sixth of that time, it
would be one of the most delightful scrambles in
Switzerland. As it is, the excursion is one which
all who are not subject to giddiness and who like
climbing, will thoroughly enjoy. Now let us
return to Zermatt.
A year or two ago, a party, including two
Englishmen, myself, and the guides Edouard
High Life and Towel's of Silence. i 75
Cupclin, Imseng, Peter Taugvvaldcr, and a porter,
arranged to cross to Zinal over the Rothhorn, and
back by the ]\Iomin<^ or one of the other passes.
One starlight night we set out and trudged up the
Triftthal, towards the snowy ridge by which the
Rothhorn is approached. But the weather was
not amiably disposed towards us, and, as the grey
light of early dawn crept over the sky, a film of
cloud began to veil the peaks, and, before long, our
mountain was wrapped in mist, and snow had
evidently begun to fall on the higher summits.
It was therefore quite useless for us to try and
go over the Rothhorn^ and, as the idea of returning
to Zerm tt about four o'clock in the morning was
not pleasant to us, we looked about and con-
sidered what employment, suitable to the state of
the weather, could be found in the neighbourhood
of the Triftthal.
The Unter Gabeihorn looks well from this side,
and we inquired if any one had ever been up it
from the direction of the Trift. The guides
replied that they believed not, but they expressed
their willingness to make an attempt from there if
we wished to try it. It seemed the only piece of
176 High Life and Towers of Si knee.
climbing to be had, so we determined to steer
straight up for the ridge, and then work along to
the right towards the summit. But first the porter
was sent back to Zermatt with such of our pos-
sessions as we did not require, and, whenever I
think of the events of that day, I am much amused
by recalling the comical aspect under which
Cupelin appeared, as he stood in the faint light of
dawn, the lantern still burning, in the wild, bleak
Triftthal, engaged in counting, and mentally taking
a list of the various articles, such as handkerchiefs,
for instance, belonging to me which the porter was
placing in his knapsack to take back. When I
travel with Cupelin, I invariably leave all the
responsibility of packing and seeing that nothing
is left behind, to him, and he takes upon himself
so completely the united duties of courier, ladies'
maid, guide, cook, and many other vocations, that
he looks after all articles likely to go astray, as if
that was the sole business of his life.
The surplus luggage disposed of, we began to
ascend, each one straggling up by whatever route
seemed best to him. It was a tiresome walk, over
loose stones, and the monotony was becoming
High Life and T outers of Silence. i ^']
tr\-ing when one of the party, who was slightly in
advance of the others, managed to disturb the
equilibrium o{ a rock about the size of a grand
piano. He contrived to step aside as the great
mass lurched over, and it can be imagined with
what promptitude we, who were below^ retired from
what seemed the likely course of the huge boulder.
Down it came, springing with deafening crashes
from side to side, while the air became tainted
with an odour of splintered flint. At last it reached
the bottom of the slope, and we congratulated our-
selves that no one had been struck, an event which
would certainly have been fatal to the person re-
ceiving the blow.
On reaching the ridge the guides considered it
advisable to rope us. The weather had been
gradually getting worse and worse, and now a
raging wind was blowing and driving a mixture
of rain and snow into our faces. But the summit
was near at hand, so setting to work with a will,
we scrambled upwards and gained the foot of a
steep and smooth gully overhanging the Triftthal,
which led to the top of the peak. Peter was leading,
and spent a considerable time in trying to wriggle
N
178 HigJi Life and Tozuers of Silence.
himself up this gully. Then Imseng made an
attempt, but thoug-h easy enough for a tall man,
^he passage was decidedly difficult for those of
moderate height, as a good handhold near the top
of it was just out of their reach. Cupelin was the
third to try and ascend, and putting his feet as
high up as possible, he stretched out his six feet
four of height, and, grasping a projecting piece of
rock far up in the gully, found himself before long
on the summit. It was easy for us to join him by
aid of the rope, and, in a few minutes, we were all
gathered amongst the shattered blocks which form
the highest point of the Unter Gabelhorn. The
weather obliged us to curtail our stay there to a
very few minutes, and then we began the descent
by the ordinary route, which is quite easy, not
requiring the use of the rope. On returning to
Zermatt we made inquiries as to the history of
the Unter Gabelhorn, and, as far as we could as-
certain, our ascent was the second by the gullc\-
overhanging the Triftthal, the first ascent having
been made by Dr. Moscly, who was afterwards
killed on the Matterhorn. The Unter Gabelhorn
can also be ascended from the Triftthal, and our
High Life and Towers of Silence. 179
gullcy avoided, by traversing the peak to the left
as soon as the travellers are fairly on the ridge at
the foot of it. The ordinary route is thus joined a
short distance below the summit.
N 2
iSo High Life and Towers of Silence,
CHAPTER XII.
TWO OLD FRIENDS.
Imboden makes a suggestion — Appearance of the Weiss-
horn — A warning — Anecdote of an ascent of the Mat-
terhorn — Imboden sounds the depths of the perfidy of
the human heart— A friendly suggestion — We start for
the Ried Pass — I am accompanied by a guide and
porter of whom I know very little — The ideas of the
ormer become confused — We undertake the guiding —
A dangerous piece of advice — Obliged to resort to
strategy— Fee — Arrangements for ascending the Weiss-
horn — We set out from Randa — The comforts awaiting
US at the hut — Uncertainty— We start at 4 a.m. — The
delight of climbing a classical peak — The Arete — Arrival
on the summit — Descent to Randa — Apres ccla, la
deluire.
"You must go up the Wcisshorn with me," Im-
boden had said, as from the summit of the Bieshorn
we admired the beautiful white peak, with its
terraces of broken glacier, and the long and
narrow at'cte of rocks which forms the usual ap-
proach to the mountain. And had ever one of
High Life and Tozucrs of Silence. i8i
these "palaces of nature" a grander highway by
which to draw near to its solitudes than the narrow
ridge of the VVeisshorn, on which the climbers
walk and look down to the broad basin of the
Bies glacier and the hollow between the Weisshorn
and Rothhorn, many thousands of feet below?
Throw a stone from the top of one of those long
snow couloirs with which the arete is seamed. It
will bound from side to side, adding another to
the many markings in the gulley, and will not stop
till it buries itself far below on the glacier, or
falls into one of the gaping crevasses. Imboden
declared that I should think the passage along the
ridge a most delightful climb, but added, holding
up one of his fingers with a warning gesture, *' If
it is in good condition when we ascend it, and
you find it easy, doiit say so, for numbers of the
people who go up the W'eisshorn would find walking
to the Corner Grat a much more suitable occupa-
tion. We see the folly of that sort of thing too
often on the Matterhorn, and such stupidity will
go on till some one is killed."
He has often amused me by his anecdotes of
people who, while professing to possess much skill
1 82 High Life and Towers of Silence.
in mountain craft, have to be helped almost as if
they were babes in arms, and he especially men-
tioned the case of an individual with whom he
made the ascent of the Matterhorn. This person
spent the greater part of the day in telling Imboden
that he knew they would all be killed, and when
they reached the upper hut the traveller offered to
pay the entire tarif (4/.) if Imboden would take him
down from there. The latter, however, insisted on
continuing the ascent, while the lion-hearted one,
at every halt, begged with tears in his eyes to be
guided back again to the valley, and offered bribes
which at last accumulated to almost fabulous
sums. Imboden was younger in those days, and
had not sounded to the full the depths of the
perfidy of the human heart. His sensations can
therefore be imagined when, after safely landing
the cringing, terrified, helpless traveller at Zermatt,
he overheard him inform a party of choice spirits,
who were all agape to hear the news, that ** The
Matterhorn is a swindle ; there^s not a pin to choose
between climbing the Matterhorn and walking
along the high road ! ^' - •
Needless to say, Imboden did not disclose the
High Life and Towers of Silence. i8
->
name of the intrcpide in question, and such people
are too numerous for the identity of this particular
specimen of the class to be a matter of certainty,
even to those who best know the usual frequenters
of Alpine districts.
Imboden should write a book, and call it,
" Personal recollections of scenes and characters/"'
There would, I fancy, be some searchings of heart
on its publication ; but the work would be interest-
ing in a high degree.
The Weisshorn was a peak which I had long
looked forward to climbing, so I promised Imboden
to telegraph to him from Fee, when my stay there
should have terminated. Meanwhile I prepared to
set out from St. Nicholas by the Ried Pass. As
Imboden was engaged, I took the only man I
could find, and bitterly regretted my bargain. The
guide was quite unknown to me, but I had been
told that he was up to his work, so I thought that
he could probably at least contrive to cross the
Ried. Nev^ertheless, the excursion was not un-
eventful, for the individual in question managed
so completely to muddle his brain that, by the time
we had ascended the Balfrinhorn, and stood on the
184 High Life and Toilers of Silence.
summit of the pass, he was quite unable to inform
us in which direction the descent should be made.
The porter was steady and reliable, but, as he had
never crossed the pass before, he naturally did not
know the route. However, there is not a lar.::^e
choice, and to turn to the right, down the rocks,
as soon as the arete has been kept to for a short
distance, seemed the most natural course to pursue.
We therefore carefully descended the wall of rock
which overhangs a small glacier, part of which we
could see from above. The guide blundered along
after us as best he could, continually hooking on the,
rope to projecting rocks, and^ as he was entirely
unconscious of this performance, the result was
occasionally awkward both to himself and to us.
At last we neared an extremely steep couloir
of frozen snow, which, about a hundred feet or so
lower down the slope, was cut asunder by a gigantic
bergschrund. The upper edge of the chasm must
have been seventy feet or more above its lower lip,
and, to add to the attractions of the place, large
stones fell at intervals, and now and then the couloir
was swept by perfect avalanches of broken frag-
ments of rock. The guide halted in a knowing
High Life and Toivers of Silence, 185
manner when he saw this charming spot, and
suggested to us that it would be well to lose no
time in gaining the centre of the couloir, as then
we could glissade down it. I alleged my timidity
on steep snow as a reason for not following his
advice, for the man, it was evident, was quite in
earnest. Continuing, therefore, to descend by the
rocks, we gradually drew near to the glacier, from
which, however, we were cut off by a large crevasse.
Catching sight of a bridge by which it could be
crossed, I steered towards it, and had the doubtful
satisfaction of hearing my follower observe that, if
we attempted to cross at that one particular place,
we should all, without doubt, be killed. Indeed, so
tiresome did he become about the matter that I
could only manage him by a most dishonest piece
of strategy. It was evident that any suggestion
coming from me would be doomed, so I sharply
informed him that he w?.s quite mistaken in sup-
posing that I wished to cross the snow bridge, as
my intention was to jump the crevasse from the
place at which we stood. This settled the question.
Assuring me that nothing would induce him to go
over, except by the snow bridge, which was what
1 86 High Life and Towers of Silence,
he had advocated from the beginning, and that my
plan was, as he had said before, madness, he
straightway turned towards the bridge, and before
long we were able to unrope. Fee was reached by
dinner-time, and the hotel as usual was crowded to
overflowing ; but the landlady had not locked
herself up in the bureau in despair, as I have been
told she has sometimes done, and a room for me
was forthcoming, thanks to some friends who had
secured it the day before.
I spent about a fortnight at Fee, taking photo-
graphs and making small excursions. Then the
time drew near when I had to think of leaving, so
taking advantage of Mr. Barnes's offer of Imboden
on an off-day, I telegraphed to Zermatt and ap-
pointed the Tuesday following for the Weisshorn.
When ascending the Weissmies on the Saturday
before, I was much disgusted to notice a change
in the weather, and snow beginning to fall during
the descent, I was simply in despair. The next
morning brought a cloudless sky, but the higher
parts of the splendid amphitheatre of peaks round
Fee glittered in garments of fresh snow. I was
sorrowfully trying to resign myself to the idea of
High Life and Tozvers of Silence. 187
my excursion being postponed till the following
season, when a telegram from Mr. Barnes to the
effect that "the Weisshorn is believed to be all
right," raised me to the seventh heaven.
Hastily packing, I started for St. Nicholas, and
the next day, by one o'clock, I was at Randa.
There I was greeted by a note which told me that
Imboden was engaged on an ascent of the
Weisshorn that very day, but that on mounting to
the hut with the porter, I should find my guide
there. All the provisions had been most thought-
fully ordered, and everything arranged for me by
my friend, so very soon the porter and I set out, and
began slowly to ascend through the pine-woods.
Before long we met Mr. Donkin and Mr. Barnes,
who told us that the condition of the Weisshorn
was very fair, considering the large amount of fresh
snow which had fallen. Then on again till the
trees grew stunted and finally ceased altogether
and grassy slopes took their place. At last a
dilapidated stone hut, built close under the rocks
could be seen, and on the roof sat Imboden, while
blue smoke curled up from the chimney of the
cabin, telling us that we should not have to wait
iS8 High Life and Toilers of Silence.
long before beginning to cock our dinner. The
inside of our lodging was even less inviting than
the exterior, and judging by the amount of day-
light which could be seen through various cracks
and holes, it would evidently not be a desirable
residence durincr a shower of rain. We were soon
installed, and our not very elaborate dinner con-
cluded. The next thing to do was to go out and
examine the weather. I was much annoyed to
see that heavy thunder-clouds covered the sky, and
already a few drops of rain had begun to fall.
Imboden shook his head, and declined to give an
opinion one way or the other, while the porter
loudly bewailed the state of things, and addressed
various uncomplimentary remarks, couched in very
strong language, to the darkening heavens. How-
ever, as there was no use in sitting up to contemplate
so unpleasing a s'ght we retired to our couches of
damp straw. Mr. Barnes had kindly left a large
plaid, and this proved an excellent protection
against the rain which steadily dripped through
the dilapidated roof. There was a hole in the wall
near my corner through which I could see the sky.
Every now and then I glanced out, and towards
High Life and Towers of Silence. 189
midnight a star or two appeared and gave hope of
an improvement in the weather. At two o'clock,
the hour fixed for our rest to terminate, Imboden
still slept. I knew that he must require a good
night after his exertions of the day before, and, as
there was plenty of time, I did not call him till
three. Then the preparations for departure began,
for the sky was once more cloudless and our late
period of uncertainty lent a greater pleasure to the
thought of the enjoyable day in store for us. It
was just four o'clock when we set out. First, slopes
of stones had to be crossed, then some hard snow
which crunched cheerily under our feet, succeeded
by a scramble up a short, steep gully. Here the
lantern was left, and, shortly afterwards, we began
to ascend the broken and easy rocks by which
the beginning of the arete is gained. The fresh
snow had filled up all the hollows amongst these
rocks, and the climb was not such a pleasant one
as it generally is. At least, so said Imboden, but
I enjoyed every part of the work that day, and
having heard so much of the Weisshorn, every step
w^as like renewing an old friendship. I think that
next to ascending a new peak, there is no delight
IQO High Life and Toivers of Silence.
so great as making the acquaintance of one of
the classical giants of the Alps. Every feature
is already familiar from the descriptions of the
pioneers of mountaineering, and there is a sensa-
tion of being thoroughly at home which is intensely
pleasant.
As soon as we reached the beginning of the ridge,
our first halt was made, and w^e seated ourselves
comfortably amongst the rocks for breakfast. The
arete looked most inviting, with its gendarmes or
rocky towers, some of which have to be climbed
over. Breakfast finished, we began the passage of
the ridge, and a more enjoyable scramble I never
had. The foothold and handhold is so solid that
one need never feel insecure, and the view down
on both sides is striking in the extreme. " I told
you that you would like it," remarked Imboden as
he saw hov/ thoroughly I appreciated the climb.
The principal gendarme was capped with snow, and,
on many of the rocks, there was a covering two or
three feet deep, but it was in good condition and
did not delay us much. At the end of the ridge
there was a narrow arete of snow, topped by a
cornice, and here it is that travellers unskilled in
High Life and Towers of Silence. 191
mountain climbing are apt to be made uncomfort-
able by the sight of the valley, as viewed through
a hole in the cornice pierced by an axe or a finger,
and this miniature picture is certainly not reassur-
ing, but the party can keep well down the slope
during most of the time, so that, even if there is a
little difficulty, there is no danger. A short distance
above this part of the mountain we again halted, and
after having had something to eat,left theknapsacks
and pursued our way up the final snow slope. The
steps of the day before had been melted away and
new ones had to be cut. The last i^w minutes
seemed interminable and I was by no means sorry
when Imboden cried " Here we are!"" and I saw
that we had reached the summit.
It was just nine o'clock. Blue sky was still
overhead, but in the valleys white clouds could
be seen, like tufts of eider-down floating towards
the earth. The Visp with its many windings,
and the village of Randa were visible, and far
below broad glaciers swept past our peak, and
rival sumimits raised their heads from the icy waves
which slowly but ceaselessly moved on around them.
Glancing towards Zinal, the cliffs fell away in
192 High Life and Tozucrs of Silence.
magnificent precipices, appalling to look down.
The actual summit of the Weisshorn terminates in
a sharp point of frozen snow, and the three sides
correspond to the three faces of the mountain. In
order that the travellers may rest at the top, a
platform must be cut for them. Along the ridge
which, after descending, rises again to form the
crest of the Bieshorn, huge cornices hung over,
fringed with glittering icicles, which fell off from
time to time and danced gaily down the slope.
We spent one delightful hour in admiring the
lavish display of well-known peaks around us, and
then we began the descent. Far below the long
arete could be seen, and a vapoury mass hung
against it, and gradually thick mists boiled up on
either side. The effect of the ridge thus cut off
from the earth was most curious and very beautiful ;
I have never seen anything of the kind more striking.
The fresh snow delayed us a good deal going down,
as it was, by that time, so wet and slippery. How-
ever, by half- past one o'clock we were at the hut,
and, after a short rest there, descended to Randa.
The same afternoon I drove to St. Nicholas.
Next day the sky was obscured by clouds, and,
High Life and Towers of Silence. 19
t
towards evening, heavy rain fell. But we had been
up the Weisshorn and '' after that the deluge " — also
the dentist at Lucerne. Bad weather was of no
consequence during the week of purgatory spent
there, and when, every morning, I saw the down-
pour still continuing, I congratulated myself on
having utilized the last fine day of the season for
an excursion the pleasant recollection of which, in a
measure, compensated for the miseries I was called
upon to endure at the dentist's hands.
194 High Life and Tozucrs of Silence.
CONCLUSION.
Reasons for venturing to present this work to the public,
and good wishes for those who visit Switzerland for
health or pleasure.
I HAVE not published this little book " in order to
supply a long-felt want." On the contrary, I have
no reason to suppose that it fills a gap of any sort.
I have derived much enjoyment from the labour of
writing it, and have felt some of the old pleasure
of the excursions come back, as I tried to recall
each point of interest, and if I can give the very
least amusement to even one of my readers, my
task has not been unprofitable. This is really
my feeling with regard to it, and if 1 might suggest
a moral to be drawn from some of the incidents
related, it would be in no wise to copy the manner
in which many of my excursions were made, but
to be as prudent with regard to small climbs in
winter as if you were setting out for the Dent
High Life and Towers of Silence. 195
Blanche in summer, and on no account to unneces-
sarily handicap yourself by taking either guides or
friends with you about whose climbing powers and
endurance you feel any doubt.
I might go prosing and twaddling on for another
ten pages, as is not unfrequently the case with
" conclusions," but having nothing more to impart
to my readers, now that I have said a few words of
apology for venturing to present this book to the
public, I do not doubt that I shall act wisely in
terminating in a more abrupt manner. I will
therefore merely wish all those who visit Switzer-
land for their pleasure as much enjoyment as I
have derived from my travels there^ and I heartily
desire for the invalids who go in search of health
and strength, a benefit as great, from the pure,
bracing air, as has been obtained by the author of
this little work.
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