-nSSnnxnsJSssSx ---**-» &BtB&& NNWtWe^ "I give thefe Boois fcr ike founding cf a College in this Colony'' Gift of the Rev. Heber H. Beadle 1917 FRONTISPIECE. THE SUMMIT OF THE HOMING PASS IN 1864. PA8E 108. SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS, BY EDWARD WHYMPER; DOWN THE RHINE, LADY BLANCHE MURPHY. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. THE BURROWS BROTHERS CO., CLEVELAND, OHIO. Longitude East from Oreeuwicb MAP OF PARTS OF SWITZERLAND AND SAVOY Engraved expressly for "WHYMPER'S SCRAMBLES C\^% AMONGST THE ALPS." ^ Published by VallortesK The Burrows Brothers Company, .«?¦"¦><,,,-. - CLEVELAND, OHIO. ^ f?,# , -¦'& i89o. &m&T ' ¦ ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ,tN. .v*-, -',%„, Scale of English Miles. ¦$**'< z& " ¦ ¦ MATTHEWS, NORTHRUP 4 CO} , .' £ 4«iyffitWnOrttj **? BUFFALO AND NEW YORK. . y =H R(,U'-'r~- ¦ ' Bex / -flmuiu'V ¦ V Clron-ge-3 , -J, --W :i'-tk~ b',. IWmu< St.jSl.0tt/ -', M^»"io \_ft */ ; L.HO.',.. '%«-', ... PREFACE, In the year i860, shortly before leaving England for a long Continental tour, a certain eminent London publisher requested me to make for him some sketches of the great Alpine peaks. At this time I had only a literary acquaintance with mountaineering, and had even not seen — much tss set foot upon — a mountain. Amongst the peaks which were upon my list was Mont Pelvoux, in Dauphine. The sketches fhat were required of it v, ere to celebrate the triumph of some Englishmen who intended to make its ascent. They came — they saw — but they did not conquer. By a mere chance I fell in with a very agreeable Frenchman who accompanied this party, and was pressed by him to return to the assault. In 1S61 we did so, with my friend Macdonald, and we conquered. This was the origin of my scrambles amongst the Alps. The ascent of Mont Pelvoux (including the disagreeables) was a very delightful scramble. The mountain air did not act as an emetic ; the sky did not look black instead of blue ; nor did I feel tempted to throw myself over precipices. I hastened to enlarge my experience, and went to the Matterhorn. I was urged toward Mont Pelvoux by those mysterious im pulses which cause men to peer into the unknown. Not only was this moun tain reputed to be the highest in France, and on that account was worthy of attention, but it was the dominating point of a most picturesque district of the highest interest, which, to this day, remains almost unexplored. The Matterhorn attracted me simply by its grandeur. It was considered to be the most thoroughly inaccessible of all mountains, even by those who ought to have known better. Stimulated to make fresh exertions by one repulse after another, I returned, year after year, as I had opportunity, more and .more determined to find a way up it, or to prove it to be really inaccessible. A considerable portion of this volume is occupied by the history of these attacks on the Matterhorn, and the other excursions that are described have all some connection, more or less remote, with that mountain or with Mont Pelvoux. All are new excursions (that is, excursions made for the first time), unless the contrary is pointed out. Some have been passed over very briefly, and entire ascents or descents have been disposed of in a single line. If they had been worked out at full length, three volumes instead of one would have been required. Generally speaking, the salient points alone have been dwelt upon, and. the rest has been left to the imagination. This treatment has saved the reader from much useless repetition. 4. PREFACE. In endeavoring to make the book of some use to those who may wish to go- mountain-scrambling, whether in the Alps or elsewhere, undue prominence, perhaps, has been given to our mistakes and failures ; and it will doubtless- be pointed out that our practice must have been bad if the principles which are laid down are sound, or that the principles must be unsound if the prac tice was good. It is maintained in an early chapter that the positive, or unavoidable, dangers of mountaineering, are very small, yet from subsequent pages it can be shown that very considerable risks were run. The reason is obvious — we were not immaculate. Our blunders are not held up to be admired or to be imitated, but to be avoided. These scrambles amongst the Alps were holiday excursions, and as such they should be judged. They are spoken of as sport, and nothing more. The pleasure that they gave me cannot, I fear, be transferred to others. The ablest pen's have failed, and must always fail, to give a true idea of the grand eur of the Alps. The most minute descriptions of the greatest writers do nothing more than convey impressions that are entirely erroneous — the reader conjures up visions, it may be magnificent ones, but they are infin itely inferior fo the reality. I have dealt sparingly in descriptions, and have employed illustrations freely, in the hope that the pencil may perhaps suc ceed where the pen must inevitably have failed. The preparation of the illustrations has occupied a large part of my time during the last six years. With the exception of the views upon pp. 18, 19. and 24, the whole of the illustrations have been engraved expressly for the book, and, unless it is otherwise specified, all are from my own sketches. About fifty have been drawn on the wood by Mr. James Mahoney, and I am much indebted to that artist for the care and fidelity with which he has fol lowed my slight memoranda, and for the spirit that he has put into his admirable designs. Most of his drawings will be identified by his mono gram. Twenty of the remainder are the work of Mr. Cyrus Johnston, and out of these I would draw especial attention to the view of the Matterhorn facing p. 36, the striated rock upon p. 63, and the bits from the Mer de ' Glace upon pp. 138, 139. The illustrations have been introduced as illustra tions, and very rarely for ornamental purposes. We have subordinated everything in them to accuracy, and it is only fair to the artists who have honored me by their assistance to say that many of their designs would have ranked higher as works of art if they had' been subjected to fewer restrictions. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. (SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS.) The Drawings were made on the Wood by H J. Boot, C. Johnson, J. Mahonby, J. W. North, P. Skblton, W. G. Smith, and C. J. Stanilahd ; and were Engraved by J. W. and Edward Whymphr. * Front Photographs. ** Designs. FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. FAQS ** I. The Club-room of Zermatt in 1864 Frontispiece. 2. Mont Pelvoux and the Alefroide, from near Mont Dauphin 16 * 3. The Mont Cenis Road and the Fell Railway, on the Italian side.. 30 4. The Matterhorn, from near the Summit of the Theodule Pass 36 5. "In attempting to pass the corner I slipped and fell" 34 ** 6. A Cannonade on the Matterhorn (1862) 57 7. "The Chimney" 64 8. The Crags of the Matterhorn during the Storm, Midnight, Aug. 10, 1863 71 ** 9. Descending Western Arete of the Pointe des IiIcrins 89 ** 10. "We saw a toe — it seemed to belong to Moore; we saw Reynaud a flying body" 95 ** 11. The Summit of the Moming Pass in 1864 108 12. The Bergschrund on the Dent Blanche in 1865 117 13. The Matterhorn from the Riffelberg 121 * 14. The Grandes Jorasses from the Val Ferret 133 15. The Summit of the Col Dolent 134 16. Fog-Bow, seen from the Matterhorn on July 14, 1865 157 IN THE TEXT. 1. Beachy Head 9 2. The Devil of Notre Dame.. 10 ** 3. Mules 10 ** 4. A Cure in Difficulties 13 .5. At the St. Bernard 13 ** 6. Which is the Brute? 13 ** 7. "Garibaldi!" :.... 15 * 8. Briancon j ¦ 16 9. Mont Pelvoux from above La Bessee ! 18 10. In the Val d'Alefred 19 11. The Grand Pelvoux de Val Louise 20 12. Buttresses of Mont Pelvoux 21 * 13. Portrait of R. J. S. Macdonald 23 14. Outline to show Route up Mont Pelvoux ; 24 15. The Blanket Bag 27 16. Natural Pillar near Molines. 29 ** 17. Crossing Mont Cenis 30 ** 18. The Little Postilion 31 " 19. The. Centre Rail on a Curve 32 20. Section of the Fell Railway 32 * 21. The Covered Ways of the Fell Railway 33 22. The Centre-Rail Brake 34 23. Outlines of the Matterhorn from the North-east 37 6 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGB * 24. Portrait of J. J. Bennen 38 * 25. Portrait of Jean-Antoine Carrel '. 4° 26. The Col du Lion; looking toward the Tete du Lion _ 41 ** 27. At Breuil (Giomein) 44 28. Outlines of the Matterhorn from the Theodule Pass 46 29. Diagram to show manner of fastening Tent-poles 47 30. Alpine Tent 47 31. Climbing Claw 51 32. Rope and Ring 51 33. The Matterhorn from Breuil 58 ** 34. "But what is this?" 59 35. An Arch of the Aqueduct in the Val Tournanche 61 * 36. Water-worn Rocks in the Gorge below the Gorner Glacier 62 37. Striations Produced by Glacier-action 63 ** 38. "Carrel lowered me down" 67 * 39. Portrait of Monsieur Favre _ 73 * 40. Crossing the Channel 74 ** 41. A Night with Croz 75 * 42. Portrait of Michel-Auguste Croz 76 43. The Aiguilles d'Arve from above the Chalets of Rieu Blanc 78 * 44. Portrait of Melchior Anderegg : 81 45. Map of the Breche de la Meije, etc 82 * 46. The Vallon des Etancons 83 47. Map of the Central Dauphine Alps 84 48. The Pointe des Ecrins from the Col du'Galibier 86 49. Outline to show Route up Pointe des Ecrins 86 50. Fragment from the Summit of the Pointe des Ecrins '. 88 ** 51. A Snow Couloir.... ..- , '. 93 ** 52. Portraits of Mr. Reilly' on a wet Day .v 99 53. Our Camp on Mont Sue 100 54. Ice-Avalanche on the Moming Pass 108 55. Fac-simile of a Letter from Croz , 112 56. Part of the Southern Ridge of the Grand Cornier 113 57. Part of the Northern Ridge of the Grand Cornier 114 * 58. Portrait of Leslie Stephen 116 * 59. Portrait of T. S. Kennedy 119 60. Diagrams to show Dip of Strata on the Matterhorn 122-3 * 61. My Tent-bearer — The Hunchback 125 * 62. The Bouquetin , 127 63, A Cretin of Aosta 129 64. My Ice-axe.....' .• 135 65. Kennedy Ice-axe t 136 66. Stephen Ice-axe 136 67. Crampon 136 * 68. Portrait of Christian Almer 137 * 69. On The Mer de Glace 138 * 70. Ice-Pinnacles on the Mer de Glace 139 * 71. Western Side of the Col de Talefre 142 ** 72. Glissading : 143 ** 73. The Wrong Way'to use a Rope on Glacier 146 ** 74. The Right Way to use a Rope on Glacier 146 75. "Croz! Croz! Come here" 153 76. The Actual Summit of the Matterhorn in 1865 154 77. The Summit of the Matterhorn 155 78. Rope broken on the Matterhorn 157 * 79. Portrait of Monsieur Seiler 158 80. Manilla Rope broken on the Matterhorn 159 81. The "Second" Rope broken on the Matterhorn 160 «* 82. The End ,62 83. Natural Pinnacles in the Valley of the Durance ..' 163 CONTENTS. ¦.SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS.) CHAP. PAGB I. — Introductory 9 II. — The Ascent of Mont Pelvoux 16 HI. — The Mont Cenis Pass and the Fell Railway— The Great Tunnel through the Alps 30 IV. — My First Scramble on the Matterhorn 35 V. — Renewed Attempts to ascend the Matterhorn 44 VI. — The Val Tournanche — The Breuiljoch — Zermatt — Ascent of the Grand Tournalin 59 VII. — Our Sixth Attempt to ascend the Matterhorn 69 VIII. — From St. Michel to La Berarde by the Col des Aiguilles, d'Arve, Col de Martignare, and the Breche de la Meije 75 IX.— The Ascent of the Pointe des Ecrins 83 X.— From Val Louise to La Berarde by the Col de Pilatte 91 XI. — Passage of the Col de Triolet, and Ascents of Mont Dolent, Aiguille de Trelatete and Aiguille d'Argentiere 96 XII. — The Moming Pass — Zermatt 105 XIII. — The Ascent of the Grand Cornier no XIV. — The Ascent of the Dent Blanche 116 XV. — Lost on the Col d'Herens — Seventh Attempt to ascend the Mat terhorn 119 XVI. — On the Valley of Aosta, and the Ascent of the Grandes Jorasses. 126 XVII.— The Col Dolent 133 XVIII. — Ascent of the Aiguille Verte 137 XIX. — The Col de Talefre _ 142 XX.— Ascent of the Ruinette— The Matterhorn 144 XXI. — The Ascent of the Matterhorn 150 XXII. — The Descent of the Matterhorn 155 Appendix ~ 162 7 Scrambles Amongst the Alps BEACHY HEAD. CHAPTER I. ON the 23d of July, i860, I started for my first tour in the Alps. As we steamed out into the Channel, Beachy Head came into view, and re called a scramble of many years ago. With the impudence of ignorance, my brother and I, schoolboys both, had tried to scale that great chalk cliff. Not the head itself— where sea-birds circle, *nd where the flints are ranged so or derly in parallel lines — but at a. place more to the east, where the pinnacle called the Devil's Chimney had fallen down. Since that time we have been often in dangers of different kinds, but never have we more nearly broken our necks than upon that occasion. In Paris I made two ascents. The first to the seventh floor of a house in the Quartier Latin— to an artist friend, who was engaged, at the moment of my 9 IO SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS. entry, in combat with a little Jew. He hurled him with great good-will and with considerable force into some of his crockery, and then recommended me to go up the towers of Notre Dame. Half an hour later I stood on the parapet of the great west front, by the side of the leering fiend which for cen turies has looked down upon the great city. It looked over the Hotel Dieu to a small and commonplace building, around which there was always a mov ing crowd. To that building I descend ed . It was filled with .chattering women and eager children, who were strug- 1 gling to get a good sight of three corpses which wgre exposed to view. It was the Morgue. I quitted the place dis gusted, and overheard two women dis cussing the spectacle. One of them concluded with, " But that it is droll ;" the other answered approvingly, " But that it is droll ;" and the Devil of Notre Dame, looking down upon them, seemed to. say, "Yes, your climax, the cancan — your end, not uncommonly, that build ing: it is droll, but that it is droll." I passed on to Switzerland ; saw the sunlight lingering on the giants of the Oberland ; heard the echoes- from the row-horns in the Lauterbrunnen valley and the avalanches rattling off the Jung- frau ; and then crossed the Gemmi into the Valais, resting for a time by the beautiful Oeschineh See, and getting a forcible illustration of glacier-motion in a neighboring valley — the Gasteren Thai. The upper end of this valley is crowned by the Tschingel glacier, wh irh , as it descends, passes over an abrupt cliff that is in the centre of its course. On each side the continuity of the gla cier is maintained, but in the centre it is cleft in twain by the cliff. Lower down itis consolidated again. I scram bled on to this lower portion, advanced toward the cliff, and then stopped to admire the contrast of the brilliant pin nacles of ice with the blue sky. With out a warning, a huge slice of the gla cier broke away and fell over the cliff on to the lower portion with a thunder ing crash. Fragments rolled beyond me, although, fortunately, not in my direction. I fled, and did not stop until off the glacier, but before it was quitted learned another lesson in glacial mat ters : the terminal moraine, which seem ed to be a solid mound, broke away underneath me, and showed that it was only a superficial covering resting on a slope of glassy ice. On the steep path over the Gemmi there were opportunities for observing the manners and customs of the Swiss mule. It is not perhaps in revenge for generations of ill-treatment that the mule grinds one's legs against fences and stone walls, and pretends to stunv ble in awkward places, particularly SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS. n when coming round corners and on the brinks of precipices ; but their evil habit of walking on the outside edges of paths (even in the most unguarded positions) is one that is distinctly the result of as sociation with man. The transport of wood from the mountains into the val leys occupies most of the mules during a considerable portion of the year : the fagots into which the wood is made up project some distance on each side, and it is said that they walk intuitively to the outside of paths having rocks on the other side to avoid the collisions which would otherwise occur. When they carry tourists they behave in a similar manner; and no doubt when the good time for mules arrives, and they no longer carry, burdens, they will still continue, by natural selection, to do the same. This habit frequently gives rise to scenes : two mules meet — each wishes to pass on the outside, and neither will give way. ' It requires con siderable persuasion, through the me dium of the tail, before such difficulties are arranged. I visited the baths of Leuk, and saw the queer assemblage of men, women and children, attired in bathing-gowns, chatting, drinking and playing at ehess in the water. The company did not seem to be perfectly sure whether it was decorous in such a situation and in such attire for elderly men to chase young females from one corner to another, but it was unanimous in howling at the ad vent of a stranger who remained cov ered, and literally yelled when I depart ed without exhibiting my sketch. I trudged up the Rhone valley, and turned aside at Visp to go up the Visp Thai, where one would expect to see greater traces of glacial action, if a glacier formerly -filled it, as one is said to have done. I was bound for the valley of Saas, and my work took me high up the Alps on either side, far beyond the limit of trees and the tracks of tourists. The view from the slopes of the Wiessmies, on the eastern side of the valley, five or six thousand feet above the village of Saas. is perhaps the finest of its kind in the Alps. The full height of the three - peaked Mischabel (the highest mountain in Switzerland) is seen at one glance — eleven thousand feet of dense forests, green alps, pinnacles of rock and glittering glaciers. The peaks seemed to me then to be hopelessly inaccessible from this direction. I descended the valley to the village qf Stalden, and then went up the Visp Thai to Zermatt, and stopped there sev eral days. Numerous traces of the for midable earthquake-shocks of five years before still remained, particularly at St. Nicholas, where the inhabitants had been terrified beyond measure at the destruction of their churches and houses. At this place, as well as at Visp, a large part of the population was obliged to live under canvas for several months. It is remarkable that there was hardly a life lost on this occasion, although there were about fifty shocks, some of which were very severe. , At Zermatt I wandered in many di rections, but the- weather was bad and my work was much retarded. One day, after spending a long time in attempts to sketch near the HSrnli, and in futile endeavors to seize the forms of the peaks as they for a few seconds peered out from above the dense banks of woolly clouds, I determined nbt to re turn to Zermatt by the usual path, but to cross the G8rner glacier to the Riffel hotel. Aftera rapid scramble over the polished- rocks and snow-beds which skirt the base of the Theodule glacier, and wading through some of the streams which flow from it, at that time much swollen by the late rains, the first dif ficulty was arrived at, in the shape of a precipice about three hundred feet high. It seemed that there would be no dif ficulty in crossing the glacier if the cliff could be descended, but higher up and lower down the ice, appeared, to my in experienced eyes, to be ifnpassable for a single person. The general contour of the cliff was nearly perpendicular, but it was a good deal broken up, and there was little difficulty in descending by zigzagging from one mass to another. At length there was a long slab, nearly 13 SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS. smooth, fixed at an angle of about forty degrees between two wall-sided pieces of rock : nothing, except the glacier, could k be seen below. It was a very awkward place, but being, doubtful if return were possible, as I had been dropping from one ledge to another, I, passed at length by lying across the slab, putting the shoulder stiffly against one' side and the feet against the other, and gradually wriggling down, by first moving the legs and then the back. When the bot- * torn of the slab was gained a friendly crack was seen, into which the point of the baton could be stuck, and I dropped down to the next piece. It took a long time coming down that little bit of cliff, and for a few seconds it was satisfactory to see the ice close at hand. In another moment a second difficulty presented itself. The glacier swept round an angle of the cliff, and as the ice was not of the nature of treacle or thin putty,- it kept away from the little bay on the edge of which I stood. We were not widely separated, but the edge of the ice was higher than the opposite edge of rock ; and worse, the rock was covered with loose earth and stones which had fallen from above. All along the side of the cliff, as far as could be seen in both directions, the ice did not touch it, but there was this marginal crevasse, seven feet wide and of unknown depth. All this was seen at a glance, and almost at once I concluded" that I could not jump the crevasse, and began to try along the cliff lower down, but with out success, for the ice rose higher and higher, until at last farther progress was stopped by the cliffs becoming perfectly smooth. With an axe it would have been possible to cut up the side of the ice — without one, I saw there was no alter native but to return and face the jump. It was getting toward evening, and the solemn stillness of the High Alps was broken only by the sound of rush ing water or of falling rocks. If the jump should be successful, well : if not, I fell into that horrible chasm, to be frozen in, or drowned in that gurgling, rushing water. Everything depended on that jump. Again I asked myself, "Can it be done?" It tmtst be." So, finding my stick was useless, I threw it and the sketch-book to the ice, and first retreating as far as possible, ran forward with all my might, took the leap, barely reached the other side, and fell awk wardly on my knees. Almost at the same moment a shower of stones fell on the spot from which I had jumped. The glacier was crossed without fur ther trouble, but the Riffel, which was then a very small building, was cram med with tourists, and could not take me in. As the way down was unknown- to me, some of the people obligingly suggested getting a man at the chalets, otherwise the path would be certainly - lost in the forest. On arriving at the chalets no man could be found, and the lights of Zermatt, shining through the trees, seemed to say, "Never mind a guide, but come along down : we'll show you the way;" so off I went through the forest, going straight toward them. The path was lost in a moment, and was never recovered : I was tripped up by pine roots, I tumbled over rhododen dron bushes, I fell over rocks. The night was pitch-dark, and' after a time theJights of Zermatt became obscure or went "out altogether. By a series of slides or falls, or evolutions rriore or less disagreeable, the descent through the forest was at length accomplished, but torrents of a formidable character had still to be passed before one could ar rive at Zermatt. I felt my way about for hours, almost hopelessly, by an ex haustive process at last discovering a bridge, and about midnight, covered with dirt and scratches, re-entered the inn which I had quitted in the morning. Others besides tourists' got into dif ficulties. A day or two afterward, when on the way to my old station near the Hornli, I met a stout cur6 who had es sayed to cross the Theodule pass. His strength or his wind had failed, and he was being carried down, a helpless bun dle and a ridiculous spectacle, on the back of a lanky guide, while the peas ants stood by with folded hands, their reverence for the Church almost over come by their sense of the ludicrous. ON THE ZAHNSTEIN. SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS. 13 I descended the valley, diverging from the path at Randa to mount the slqpes of the Dom (the highest of the Mischa- belhfirner), in order to see the Weiss- horn face to face. The latter mountain is the noblest in Switzerland, and from this direction it looks especially magnif icent. On its north there is a large snowy plateau that feeds the glacier of which a portion is seen from Randa, and which on more than one occasion has destroyed that village. From the direction of the Dom — that is, immedi ately opposite — this Bies glacier seems to descend nearly vertically : it does not do so, although it is very steep. Its size is much less than formerly, and the lower portion, now divided into three tails, clings in a strange, weird-like manner to the cliffs, to which it seems scarcely possible that it can re main attached. Unwillingly I parted from the sight of this glorious mountain, and went down to Visp. A party of English tourists had passed up the valley a short time before with a mule. The party num bered nine — eight women and a governess. The mule carried their luggage, and was ridden by each in turn. The peasants— themselves not unaccustomed to overload their beasts — were struck with astonishment at the unwont ed sight, and made comments, more free than welcome to English ears, on the nonchalance with which young miss sat, calm and collected, on the miserable beast, while it was struggling under her weight combined with that of the luggage. The story was often repeated ; and it tends to sustain some of the hard things which have been said of late about young ladies from the ages of twelve or fourteen to eighteen. Arriving once more in the Rhone valley, I proceeded to Viesch, and from thence ascended the .lEggischhorn, on which unpleas ant eminence I lost my way in a fog, and my temper shortly afterward.Then, after crossing the Grimsel in a severe thunder storm, I passed on to Brienz, Interlachen and Berne, and thence to Fri- bourg and Mo- rat, Neuchatel, Martigny and the St. Bernard. The massive walls of the convent were a welcome sight as I waded through the snow-beds near the summit of the pass, and pleasant also was the courteous salutation of the H SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS. brother who bade me enter. He won dered at the weight of my knapsack, and I at the hardness of their bread. The saying that the monks make the toast in the winter that they give to . tourists in the following season is not founded "on truth : the winter is their most busy time of the year. But it is true they have exercised so much hos pitality that at times they have not pos sessed the means to furnish the fuel for heating their chapel in the winter. Instead of descending to Aosta, I turned aside into the Val Pelline, in or der to obtain views of the Dent d'Erin. The night had come on before Biona was gained, and I had to knock long and loud upon the door of the cure's house be fore it was opened. An old woman with querulous voice and with a large goitre answered the summons, and demanded rather sharply what was wanted, but be came pacific, almost good-natured, when a five-franc piece was held in her face and she heard that lodging and supper were requested in exchange. My directions asserted that a passage existed from Prerayeji, at the head of this valley, to Breuil, in the Val Tour- nanche, and the old woman, now con vinced of my respectability, busied her self to find a guide. Presently she in troduced a native picturesquely attired in high -peaked hat, braided jacket, scarlet waistcoat and indigo pantaloons, who agreed to take me to the village of Val Tournanche. We set off early on the next morning, and got to the summit of the pass without difficulty. It gave me my first experience of con siderable slopes of hard, steep snow, and, like all beginners, I endeavored to prop myself up with my stick, and kept it outside, instead of holding it between myself and the slope, and leaning upon it, as should have been done. The man enlightened me, but he had, properly, a very small opinion of his employer, and it is probably on that account that, a few minutes after we had passed the summit, he said he would not go any farther and would return to Biona. All argument was useless : he stood still, and to every thing that was said answered nothing but that he would go back. Being rather nervous about descending some long snow-slopes which still intervened between us and the head of the valley, I offered more pay, arid he went on a little way. Presently there were some cliffs, down which we had to scramble. He called to me to stop, then shouted that he would go back, and beckoned to me to come up. On the contrary, I waited for him to come down, but in stead of doing so, in a second or two he turned round, clambered deliberately up the cliff and vanished. I supposed it was only a ruse to extort offers of more money, and waited for half an hour, , but he did not appear again. This was rather embarrassing, for he carried off. my knapsack. The choice of action lay between chasing him and going on to Breuil, risking the loss of my knapsack. I chose the latter course, and got to Breuil the same evening. The landlord of the inn, suspicious of a person entirely innocent of luggage, was doubtful if he could admit me, and eventually thrust me into a kind of loft, which was already occupied by guides and by hay. In later years we became good friends, and he did not hesitate to give credit and even to advance con siderable sums. My sketches from Breuil were made under difficulties : my materials had been Carried off, nothing better than fine sugar-paper could be obtained, and the pencils seemed to contain more silica than plumbago. However, they •were made, and the pass was again crossed, this time alone. By the fol lowing evening the old woman of Biona again produced the faithless guide. The knapsack was recovered after the lapse of several hours, and then I poured forth all the terms of abuse and re proach of which I was master. The man smiled when called a liar, and shrugged his shoulders when referred to as a thief, but drew his knife when spoken of as a pig. The following night was spent at Cor- mayeur, and the day after I crossed the Col Ferrex to Orsieres, and on the next SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS. the Tete Noir to Chamounix. The Em peror Napoleon arrived the same day, and access to the Mer de Glace was refused to tourists ; but, by scrambling along the Plan des Aiguilles, I managed to outwit the guards, and to arrive. at the Montanvert as the imperial party was leaving, failing to get to the Jardin the same afternoon, but very nearly succeeding in breaking a leg by dis lodging great rocks on the moraine of the glacier. From Chamounix I went to Geneva, and thence by the Mont Cenis to Turin and to the Vaudois valleys. A long and weary day had ended when Paes- ana was reached. The inn was full, and I was tired and about to go to bed when some village stragglers entered and began to sing/ They sang to Gari baldi ! The tenor, a ragged fellow, whose clothes were not worth a shilling, took the lead with wonderful expression and feeling. The others kept their places arid sang in admirable time. For hours I sat enchanted, and long after I retired the sound of their melody could be heard, relieved at times by the treble of the girl who belonged to the inn. GARIBALDI I The next morning I passed the little lakes which are the sources of the Po, on my way into France. The weather was stormy, and misinterpreting the patois of some natives — who in reality pointed out the right way — I missed the track, and found myself under the cliffs of Monte Viso. A gap that was occa sionally seen in the ridge connecting it with the mountains to the east tempted me up, and after a battle with a snow- slope of excessive steepness, I reached the summit. The scene was extraordi nary, and, in my experience, unique. To the north there was not a particle of mist, and the violent wind coming from that direction blew one back stag gering. But on the side of Italy the valleys were completely filled with dense "passes of cloud to a certain level ; and Jiere— rwhere they felt the influence of the wind — they were cut off as level as he top of a table, the ridges appearing above them. I raced down to Abries, and went on through the gorge of the Guil to Mont Dauphin. The next day found me at La Bessee, at the junction of the Val Louise with the valley of the Du rance, in full view of Mont Pelvoux- and by chance I walked into a cabaret where a Frenchman was breakfasting who a few-days before had made an un successful attempt to ascend that moun tain with three Englishmen and the guide. Michel Croz of Chamounix — a right good fellow, by name Jean Reynaud. The same night I slept at Briancon, intending to take the courier on the fol lowing day to Grenoble, but all places had been secured several days before hand, so I set out at two P. M. on the next day for a seventy-mile walk. The weather was again bad, and on the summit of the Col de Lautaret I was forced to seek shelter in the wretched little hospice. It was filled with work men who were employed on the road, and with noxious vapors which proceed ed from them. The inclemency of the (6 SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS. weather was preferable to the irihospi- tality of the interior. Outside, it was disagreeable, but grand-^inside, it was disagreeable and mean. The walk was continued under a deluge of rain, and I felt the way down, so intense was the darkness, to the village of La Grave, where the people of the inn detained me forcibly. It was perhaps fortunate that they did so, for during that night blocks of rock fell at several places from the cliffs on to the road with such force that they made large holes in the macadam, which looked as if there had been explosions of gunpowder. I re sumed the walk at half-past five next morning, and proceeded, under steady rain, through Bourg d'Oysans to Gren oble, arriving at the latter place soon after seven P. M., having accomplished the entire distance from Briancon in, about eighteen' hours of actual walking. This was the end of the Alpine por tion of my tour of i860, on which I was introduced to the great peaks, and ac quired the passion foT mountain- scram bling the development of which is described in the following chapters. ^.jpgig £irWm>' , *fv, , <-, • p 3RIAN