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;XPLORATION.

MOUNTAIN EXPLORATION

BY

EDWIN SWIFT BALCH

BULLETIN OFTHE
GEOGRAPHICAL CLUB
OF PHILADELPHIA
Vol. 1 January, 1893 No. i
 1 
MOUNTAIN EXPLORATION* BY
EDWIN SWIFT BALCH
(A. B. Harvard University : Member of the Philadelphia Bar.)
Read before the Geographical Cluby December p, i8g2
I.
The importance of mountaineering from a geograph
ical point of view is hardly understood by people in general.
Most persons look upon it purely in the light of a sport,
and consider it, not unjustly, as a very dangerous sport.
How much has been done by mountaineers from a geo
graphic, a scientific or an artistic impulse is hardly
known, nor is it scarcely ever considered what a field is
still open for mountain exploration and observation. The
following statements, from the sixth edition of Murray's
"Handbook of Switzerland," published in 1854, voice well
the old and still largely prevalent opinion of mountaineer
ing : " The ascent of Mont Blanc is attempted by few ;
those who are impelled by curiosity alone are hardly

Copyright, 1893, by E. S. Balch.

2 Mountain Exploration.
justified in risking the lives of the guides. It is a some
what remarkable fact that a large proportion of those who
have made the ascent have been persons of unsound
mind. Those who have succeeded have, for the most
part, advised no one to attempt it." Of late years there
has unfortunately developed a tendency among certain
men to treat the Alps as greased poles. But the beginnings
and the development of mountaineering were largely due
to other causes, the same causes which have moved
explorers all over the world: the desire to find out and
map new regions, the desire to make scientific experiments,
the study of the geology and the botany of the mountains,
and in many cases the beauty and charm alone of the
mountain landscapes.
The first point that suggests itself in considering
mountaineering is to look at the field it opens to
explorers: at the extent of mountain ranges all over the
world. The mountain countries cover, I believe, some
thing like one-sixth of the globe. The Alps, the Pyrenees,
the Norwegian Ranges, the Caucasus, in Europe. The
Himalayas, the Kuenlun, the Hindoo-Koosh, the Altai,
the Japanese Mountains, and many other ranges, in Asia.
The Atlas, the Drakensberg, Kilima-Njaro, Kenya,
Ruwenzori, in Africa. The Rocky Mountains, the Sierra
Nevada, the Mexican Volcanoes, the Alaskan Ranges, the
Andes, in America. New Zealand and the Sandwich
Islands, in the Pacific. Here is country covering a large
area, of which much is still unexplored, and of which what
is known is largely due to mountaineers.
To all snowy ranges, for purposes of geographical
exploration, it is necessary to apply what we may call
modern scientific mountaineering. To reach the big
peaks, to cross the passes, to map out the glaciers, trained

Edwin Swift Balch. 3
climbers are needed, and even trained amateur climbers,
when unassisted by professional guidance, have, in many
cases, gone to distant countries and failed in accomplishing
their explorations. Dr. Giissfeldt, for instance, one of the
best known climbers in the Alps, tried to explore the Chilian
Andes;' but, owing to his having only Chilian natives
with him, was unable to accomplish his purpose or to reach
Aconcagua. Seton-Karr,^ Schwatka and several others
have vainly tried to ascend Mount Saint Elias, and several
expeditions have not, as yet, succeeded in unravelling the
secret of the Alaskan Mountains, for we are not yet sure
but that Mount Wrangell may not be the highest summit of
North America. Kilima-Njaro, in Central Africa, resisted
the attempts of several ordinary travellers, though they
were men of nerve and pluck, such as Mr. H. H. Johnston,'
and though not difficult, Kilima-Njaro* would not be con
quered until an expert like Purtscheller came along.
It is hardly to be wondered at that the Alps were not
explored during the Middle Ages. The mediseval burgher's
idea in general was that thfey were pretty uncomfortable
places. One old chronicler, Fleming, after casting about
for some reason to explain the existence of mountains, had
nothing to say about them, except that they were inhabited
by the beasts. When Whymper** first came to the Val Tour-
nanche, he found that the natives of that valley firmly
believed that gins and effreets lived on the Matterhorn
that on its summit was an invisible ruined city, where the
Wandering Jew and the spirits of the damned met. The

' p. Giissfeldt. Reise in den Andes von Chili und Argentinien.
' H. W. Seton-Karr. The Alpine Regions of Alaska. Proceedings
of the Royal Geographical Society. i88j.
' H. H. Johnston. The Kilima-Njaro Expedition.
' H. Meyer. Across East African Glaciers.
• E. Whymper. Scrambles Amongst the Alps. Chap. IV.

4 Mountain Exploration.
Norwegian peasants have similar traditions. One of the
most beautiful ranges in Norway, one of the most interest
ing I ever ascended, are the Trolltinder," or Witch Peaks.
They were named from their having a great many pin
nacles of rock near their summit. These were supposed
to have been a band of Trolls, who, in nightly orgy, forgot
to return to their caves before dawn, and were then
changed into stones, in which form they remain to this
day. The feeling in former times in Scotland about the
mountains is, I think, well expressed in the old Scotch
ballad, "The Demon Lover:"
' ' ' Oh what hills are you, yon pleasant hills
That the sun shines sweetly on ?'
' Oh yon are the hills of Heaven,' he said,
' Where you will never win !'
" ' Oh whaten a mountain is yon,' she said,
'All so dreary wi' frost and snow ?'
' Oh yon is the mountain of hell,' he said,
' Where you and I will go !' "
It is interesting to note the very poetical names which
are applied by the mountain peoples all over the world to
their big summits, and the great difference in the feelings
of the dwellers among the peaks from those of the modem
unsentimental, realistic Englishman or American. The

" 1 made the ascent of the TroUtinder (5,860 feet) from the Isterdal,
with two Norwegian reindeer-hunters, on July 9 and 10, 18S1. We left the
Hotel Aak in Romsdal at eleven P.M., and were out exactly twenty-four
hours. The way to the plateau from which the Witch Peaks properspring was
known to the hunters ; it is up an exceedingly steep wall of rock of about
two thousand feet in height. We ascended that one of the " Trolls " which
seemed to us the highest. The pinnacle was easier climbing than the wall.
Unfortunately for us, a storm coming up, we did not have much of a view.
The hunters said no one had ever climbed the TroUtinder before, nor have
I ever seen an account of an ascent. 1 picked up the antler of a reindeer
on the plateau.

Edwin Swift Balch. 5
Englishman speaks of the Himalayas as " the Hills," and
sometimes destroys the dignity of Mont Blanc by speaking
of it as " Blank." To the great mountain of Nepal he
affixes the name of a little Indian surveyor, " Everest," just
as to the great falls of the Zambesi,^ so poetically and accur
ately termed by the natives " Mosi-oa-tu-nya," "Smoke
Sounds There," he applies the present regulation title,
" Victoria." There is a fine grandeur to the old names of
great peaks, " The Finsteraarhorn," " Dark Eagle Peak,"
the " Jungfrau," which needs no explanation; the " Wetter-
horn " and " Uschba " in the Caucasus, meaning almost the
same thing, " Peak of Storms ;" the Schreckhorn, " Peak of
Terror;" "lotunheim" in Norway, the "Home of the
Giants." African savages have poetical feeling enough to
call their great mountains respectively, " Kilima-Njaro,"*
" The Mountain of the Spirit Njaro ;" and " Ruwenzori,"'
" The Cloud King." Similarly, the Maories in New Zealand
call their great peak "Ao-Rangi,"'" meaning " The Light of
Day," from being the first peak to catch the morning light
and the last to show the glow of evening ; the name
" Ao-Rangi " also meaning " Scud Peak," because the cloud
baiiners gather about the highest parts of the mountain.
No more fitting title could be found for the great Asiatic
range than its Sanscrit name, " Hima- Alaya,"" meaning
" The Abode of Snow," with its twenty-nine thousand foot
cloud-piercing culminating point, the highest measured
mountain on the globe, justly bearing its Indian names,'^

' D. Livingstone. South Africa. Chap. XXVI.
" H. Meyer. Across East African Glaciers.
0 H. M. Stanley. In Darkest Africa. Chap. XXX.
> " G. E. Mannering. With Axe and Rope in the New Zealand Alps.
' ' A. Wilson. The Abode of Snow.
12 D. W. Freshfield. The Great Peaks of the Himilaya. Alpine
Journal, XII.

6 Mountain Exploration.
" Gaurisankar " or " Deodungha," " The Home of the
Gods " or " The Abode of Deity."
But one gleam of a desire for elevated things occurs
in the Middle Ages. By a coincidence which should be
interesting to Americans, the first real Alpine ascent took
place in the same year as the landing of Columbus. The
Mont Aiguille is described as one of the seven wonders of
Dauphind." It is six thousand and eighty feet in height,
and is a long narrow wedge, flat at the top, where there
are grass and trees. One English climber says it has walls
all around it, steep as a house, while another describes it
as a paper-cutter set on edge. It was ascended by order
of Charles VIII of France by his Chamberlain, Julien de
Beauprd, with, the help of ropes and ladders. The following
account has come down to us :
"On June 26, 1492, I, Franjois de Bosco, almoner to
the Seigneur Julien de Beaupr^, in company with other
hardy adventurers, ascended the Mont Eguille, or Mont
Inaccessible, and the day following, having said Mass
on the said mountain, ate, drank and reposed thereon. The
Seigneur Julien de Beaupr^ changed the name of the
mountain from Eguille, or Montagne Inacessible, to
Eguille fort, causing it to be solemnly baptized in the
name of the Holy Trinity by a certain Sebastian de
Carect, one of the Royal Chaplains, and afterwards chant
ing the Te Deum, Salve Regina, and many other anthems."
They found numerous chamois on the summit, where they
spent six days, and found the descent still more horrible
than the ascent.

'' F. Gardiner. A IVeek Amongst French Dolomites. Alpine fournal,
XIV.

Edwin Swift Balch. y
The first undoubted ascent" of a glacier-bearing peak
was that of the Buet.'* This was ascended in 1770, by
Jean Andr^ and Guillaume de Luc, of Geneva. Jean
Andr6 published a book, " Researches on the Modifications
of the Atmosphere," and it was for the purpose of making
some experiments on the atmosphere that he ascended the
Buet. On their ascent one of their guides accomplished
the wonderful feat, which it is not explained how he con
trived to live through, of sliding down upon his back fif
teen hundred perpendicular feet. On reaching the summit
the de Lues found that they were standing only upon a
mass of congealed snow which jutted out over a most fright
ful precipice. Their first impulse was " to retreat with all
speed, but soon reflecting that the addition of their weight
to this frozen mass, which had been supported thus for
ages, could have no effect in bringing it down, went again
upon that horrid terrace." This ascent is very interesting,
both in showing that it was the desire for scientific infor
mation in regard to the atmosphere which led to this
ascent, and the lack of scientific information of the day in
regard to everything relating to ice and snow, in the de
Lues imagining that a cornice, which is blown up by the
winds every Winter, and which always falls during the
Summer, "had been standing there," as they conceived,
" for ages."
In Central Switzerland the earliest explorations were
made by the monks . of different monasteries, such as the
St. Bernard, the Simplon, Engelberg, Disentis. There is
no doubt, from notes that have come down to us, that

'* The ascent of the Titlis by a monk of the Engelberg Convent iu
1739. long considered the first ascent of a snow mountain, is now said to be
doubtful. Alpine fournal, XVI, 66.
'» D. W. Freshfield. The History of the Buet. Alpine fournal, IX.

8 Mountain Exploration.
these early explorers were led by the love of geographical
exploration, and in the case of the greatest of them,
Placidus a Spescha,"' scientific knowledge and a love of
mineralogy and geology were added to a desire to know
the boundaries and the formation of the mountains with
which he was immediately surrounded. He is certainly
one of the most interesting figures amongst early moun
taineers, leaving a large collection of minerals and many
notes of his ascents. There is a great deal of naivete in
many of a Spescha's doings. In an ascent of Piz Valrhein
in 1787, as mountaineers had not then grasped the value
of the rope, a Spescha and his three companions and his
guide were reduced to grasping each other's coat-tails — as
far as they went — for half-way to the top, his companions
getting frightened, he cut steps in the snow for them, and
left them sitting in these steps whilst he completed his
ascent alone, and two or three hours later, on his descent,
he found them still sitting there.
Mont Blanc again falls before the desires of a scien
tist." In 1760 the celebrated geologist de Saussure visited
Chamonix, and offered a large reward to anyone who
should discover a route to the summit of Mont Blanc.
Several attempts were made by the Chamonix guides to
reach the top, and they reported to de Saussure that it
would be useless to take provisions, as he would be quite
unable to eat, and recommended him to take nothing but
a light parasol and a bottle of scent. Three guides finally
started on June 8, 1786, and reached the arfete joining the
Dome du Gout<^ to Mout Blanc, and considering further

'• D. \V. Freshfield. Placidus a Spescha and Early Mountaineering
in the II iind ner Oberland. Alpine fournal, X.
¦' W. Longman. Chaiiionuv and Mont Blanc. Early History. Alpine
fournal. VfU.

Edwin Swift Balch. 9
ascent too dangerous, retumed. One of the party, Jacques
Balmat, remained behind, however, spending the night in
a hole in the snow, and the next day began his explora
tions, and discovered a route which led to the summit,
nearly reaching it himself. He was utterly exhausted by
fatigue and exposure, and was ill for weeks on his return
to Chamonix. Dr. Paccard, the village physician, attended
him during his illness, and in return Balmat told him of
what he had done, and offered to take him to the summit.
On the 7th of August, 1786, they started without com
panions, and reached the highest summit about six P. M.
on the next day. De Saussure himself ascended Mont
Blanc the following year with ten guides, and he made
many other expeditions in the Alps, either scientific or
geographical in their character.
In the Oberland mountaineering comes shortly after
wards.'' The Meyers of Aarau had long been distin
guished as topographers and students. To clear up the
geography of the Oberland, the Meyers, accompanied by
two chamois hunters, made the first ascent of the Jung
frau, on Augusts, 181 1, and the following year the Finster
aarhorn, the " Dark Eagle Peak," the highest of the peaks
of the Oberland, was ascended by the same climbers. This
ascent has been much disbelieved in until within a few
years. The Meyers started from the Grimsel and had
an exceedingly difficult climb, so hard that it has never
been repeated until quite recently. The peak was as
sharp as a house roof, and entirely plastered over
with ice, which hung out for several feet over the
precipice, so that the Finsteraarhorn glacier was seen
through a hole in it.

' ' W. Longman. The Oberland District. Alpine fournal, VIII.

IO Mountain Exploration.
The next ascents of importance" were those of the
Wetterhorn from Grindelwald by Mr. Wills in 1854, the
conquest of the highest peak of Monte Rosa in 1855, and
the ascent of Mont Blanc without guides in 1856, which
ascents led to the formation of the Alpine Club in 1857,
and the science of modern mountaineering may be said to
date from that time. Since then, a Swiss, a French, an
Italian, a German, an Austrian and a Norwegian Alpine
Club have been formed, who number their members by
the thousand, and the mountains of Switzerland have
been explored in every nook and cranny.
I have mentioned the need of the mountains being
explored by trained mountaineers, and the following
example will show what I mean. In 1863 the Mont Blanc
chain, lying directly in front of Chamonix, and visited
yearly by thousands of tourists, had been mapped out by
the Sardinian army survey.™ On this map, amongst others,
were two peaks, the Aiguille d'Argenti^re, and the Pointe
des Plines. These were marked as being a mile and a
half distant from one another, and as being six hundred
and seventy-two feet different in height. The Sardinian
surveyors, of course, had done the best that could be done
by men who were not mountaineers and who were afraid
of the snow. Mr. Adams Reilly," a member of the Alpine
Club, thought from one or two ascents he had made that
the map of the Mont Blanc chain was not very accurate,
and decided that he would survey the chain himself, and
to carry this out, amongst other things, he planned the

"Sir Frederick Pollock. The Badminton Library. '^'^ Mountaineer
ing." Chap. I.
2° E. Whyraper. Scrambles Amongst the Alps. Chap. XI.
2 1 Adams Reilly. A Rough Survey of the Chain of Mont Blanc.
Alpine fournal, /, 266.

Edwtn Swift Balch. 1 1
ascent of both the Aiguille d'Argenti^re and the Pointe des
Plines. His survey showed one very curious and unex
pected result : that these two peaks, which lay almost in
front of Chamonix, but were a mile and a half apart, and
in whose heights there was a difference of six hundred
and seventy-two feet, were absolutely one and the same,
seen from different sides and wrongly measured. The
difference in height was possibly due to the surveyors
measuring different points of the same mountain as the
summit. Mr. Reilly concluded not to ascend the Pointe
des Plines. If we turn to a map of the Caucasus of thirty years
ago — or less than that, twenty-five years ago — we find the
Caucasus represented on the map by a sort of caterpillar
with a hump at each end ; these humps were called
respectively Mount Kasbek and Mount Elbruz. All the
Caucasus Mountains, a range almost as large as Switzer
land, with such peaks as Koshtantau and Shkara, over
seventeen thousand feet in height, were utterly unknown
until Mr. Freshfield's expedition in 1868,^^ in which he,
with two other members of the Alpine Club, and that
most splendid of guides, Frangois D6vouassoud, for the
first time brought to the notice of the world the Caucasus
as one of the greatest of mountain chains.
Many other of the mountain districts of the world
have already been reached by mountaineers, which until
their advent had remained terra incognita ; but, barring
Switzerland and the Pyrenees, which have been entirely
explored by the different Alpine Clubs, there is no chain
of mountains which is as yet thoroughly known or per
fectly mapped out. New Zealand, though settled and

' * D. W. Freshfield. Travels in the Central Caucasus and Bashan.

12 Mountain Exploration.
inhabited by Englishmen for many years, had to wait
until a few years ago for Mr. Green to first explore its
Alps.=» The Himalayas, although the Indian Govemment
has tried to map and explore them, are still, in many cases,
keeping their secrets until men shall come along who
know the science of climbing. Mr. Graham's trip in the
Sikkim Himalayas in 1886 showed conclusively how little
was known about the Himalayas, as he has now left us in
doubt as to whether the two peaks which he saw from the
top of Kabru were not higher than Gaurisankar.^
In America there is a large field left for mountain
exploration. Of the Selkirks we know but little; Saint
Elias has not been reached; the Alaskan Ranges and
Mount Fairweather and Mount Cook are, I beUeve,
entirely untouched. The Mount Wrangell Range is hardly
known, even by name, and though it is said to have been
measured and to be over twenty thousand feet high, we
know practically nothing about it or its surroundings.'^
On the map of the Northern Rockies, north of the Sel
kirks, we find a bunch of peaks, called Mount Brown and
Mount Murchison, and marked as being over sixteen
thousand feet high. Of these mountains we again are in
almost complete ignorance, though from Mr. Green's
explorations we may doubt the accuracy of their supposed
altitude.^ In South America the Andes of Peru and Chili
are mostly still unascended, and even Ecuador has had

2" W. S. Green. High Alps of New Zealand.
2*W. W. Graham. Travel and Ascent in the Himilaya. Alpine
Journal, XII.
*» H. W. Elliott. Our Arctic Province, p. 77. " The Triangulation of
Mount Wrangell is said to have been made iu 1885, by Lieutenant H. T.
Allen, U.S. Army."
'" W. S. Greeu. Among the Selkirk Glaciers.

Edwin Swift Balch. 13
only one serious exploration by Mr. Whymper.^ I mention
these facts particularly because it seems to me that if the
Geographical Club ever becomes strong enough to think of
fitting out exploring expeditions, it will find in some of
our Western mountain regions unexplored country enough
for many years, and I hope to see our Club come to the
front in helping to clear up the mountain geography of
America. Turning now to what mountaineering has done for
science, the glacial phenomena, and the forms of water in
ice and snow and clouds, have been studied with care and
trouble by such men as Tyndall,^ Forbes,^' Agassiz,*
Escher von der Linth, Guyot, who have camped out on
some occasions for weeks at a time. There was the fam
ous expedition of 1842, when the movements of glaciers
were practically • first determined, when the Neuchatel
scientists lived on the ice for two seasons, under the pro
tecting shelter of a boulder, which became known to
Alpine fame as the "Hotel des Neuchatelois." The
geology of the mountains has been studied by such men
as Professor Bonney of London and and Professor Shaler
of Harvard University. Botany has had its devotees
in such men as Packe, and a little botany I have noticed
myself, would not, perhaps, come amiss this evening.
The Alpine flower, the Edleweiss, is now very rare in
Switzerland, but I have come across it three times;
and in two of these cases it was in a perfect field, in
remote corners of the Alps. I suppose in both these
instances it would have covered a lawn of perhaps half

2' E. Whymper. Travels Amongst the Great Andes of the Equator.
2' J. Tyndall. The Forms of Water ; Hours of Exercise in the Alps.
2 'J. D. Forbes. Occasional Papers on the Theory of Glaciers.
^° L- Agassiz. Geological Sketches.

14 Mountain Exploration.
an acre, and, contrary to tradition, it was not in inaces
sible places.
Botany naturally suggests zoology. Many people
think that the chamois is now extinct in the Alps to a
great extent, and the ordinary traveller hardly realizes
how many of them are left above the snow line. In cer
tain parts of the Alps they are frequently visible, some
times in herds of forty or fifty. I once had the pleasure
of watching a chamois through a telescope, from a rock
where we were taking lunch. This chamois was crossing-
a glacier below us, and was quite unconscious of our
presence. It was very interesting to watch how the
animal threaded his way amongst the crevasses, and
seemed to know where he might go with safety, and
wandered up and down, jumping the crevasses, leaping
from one bit of ice to another. On another occasion,
Mr. Binney and I, in trying to ascend Piz Julier in the
Engadine without guides, came within a few yards of a
chamois, who was taking his noonday siesta under a large
rock. Monsieur Janssen, of the French Academy, made an
expedition two years ago to the top of Mont Blanc," to
determine, by means of spectroscopic observations, the
presence or absence of oxygen in the solar atmosphere-
His observations are scientifically, I believe, of a great
deal of value. He himself states that he considers it an
established fact that oxygen is absent from the solar
atmosphere, and an attempt has since been made of build
ing an observatory on Mont Blanc for further observa
tions, which attempt, however, the mountain has literally,
as well as figuratively, frozen out, by freezing some of the

'' Alpine fournal, XV, 326.

Edwin Swift Balch. 15
porters so badly that the attempt was given up.^^ In order
to make his experiments, being an old man, and not much
of a climber. Monsieur Jannsen made his ascent in a very
peculiar way. He had a sled made, and having first been
carried to the ice at the Pierre Pointue, twenty-two guides
dragged him on his sled to the Bosses and to the top.
This may seem rather an odd manner of climbing, but as
a result he found himself on the summit in the full pos
session of his intellectual powers, and was able to carry
out his scientific task without the smallest difficulty or
fatigue. From this fact he concludes that the trouble that
de Saussure and others experienced in working at high
altitudes was due to physical exhaustion. Monsieur
Jannsen evidently did not believe in the effect of the rari
fied air, believing, as many climbers do, that it is the want
of training, and not the atmosphere, that affects us at
great heights. I believe, myself, that the thin air has a
great effect on us. I have noticed it not only in myself,
but in others. If any one stays two or three weeks at a
time on the Riffelberg, which is eight thousand four
hundred feet high, they are very apt to develop a tendency
to sleeplessness and exceeding nervousness, which can be
cured by descending to a lower altitude. Professor Heil-
prin gave us an account two years ago of his ascent of
Citlaltepetl and I was very much struck with his state
ment that when he got near the top, eighteen thousand
feet high, he could not take more than five or six steps
at a time without stopping to breathe. This has also
been my experience at great elevations. After passing
somewhere about twelve thousand feet, it is necessary

' 2 C. E. Mathews. New Experiences in the Old Playground. Alpine
fournal, XVI, 24.

1 6 Mountain Exploration.
to take very short trips and then stop. In the highest
ascent I have made, that of the Nadelhorn,^ fourteen
thousand three hundred feet in height, and therefore some
four thousand feet less than Professor Heilprin's, I found
that towards the end my limit with any kind of comfort
was about twenty-five steps or so, when it became neces-
sary to take a breathing spell. I found a snow ball with a
spoonful of brandy on it to be an exceedingly grateful
treat under the circumstances. There is, of course, no
question but that different people have different altitudes
which they can reach, or at which they can work. I have
been told in Switzerland, though I cannot vouch for the
statement, that there are some of the Chamonix guides
who have never been able to reach the top of Mont Blanc,
as their breathing powers gave out, and they have not
been able to go farther than the Grand Mulets, or the
Bosses. In Mr. Graham's ascent of Kabru, in the Sikkim
Himalayas, a height of at least twenty-three thousand and
seven hundred feet was reached, by long odds the greatest
height ever ascended.** His party had risen gradually
until they got to the foot of the mountain, some seventeen
thousand feet up, and were, therefore, already used to the
rarified air, but he says that neither himself nor either of

'' 1 made the second ascent ofthe Nadelhom {4,334 metres) , which was
the first by a traveller, on June 29 and 30, 1882, with the guides Franz Burg-
ener and Alois Anthamatten. Leaving Saas im Grund at two o'clock in the
afternoon, we bivouacked on the side of the mountain, and leaving our
camp at four A.M., reached the col between the Ulrichshom and Nadel
hom at half-past nine o'clock, and the summit ofthe latter about two P.M.
The final ar^te took us four hours, although it was easy climbing. We
followed the same route as the guides, who, led by Franz Andermatten, are
said to have made the first ascent in 1859. We found absolutely no traces
of any previous ascents. Compare W. M. Conway's paper: The North
District of the Saas Grat. Alpine fournal, X, jjS.
"* W. W. Graham. Travel and Ascent in the Hiindlaya. Alpine
fournal, XII.

'"#*.

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Edwin Swift Balch. 17
his guides seemed to suffer from the rarified air, the curi
ous thing in this so exceedingly high ascent being that the
only apparent effect was a very strong beating of the
heart, so loud that it was quite audible.
In regard to the possibility of a greater height than
Mr. Graham's ascent being reached, I think that Lieu
tenant Peary's dress on his Arctic trip has possibly opened
the way. His Eskimo reindeer suit, whose entire weight
was only eleven and a half pounds, will, if properly util
ized, probably add to the limit of the altitude that can
be reached by man. It is impossible in climbing at great
altitudes to carry but very little, and that little must of
necessity be food, and climbers are often driven back by
the inability to take with them some cover in which to
sleep out. Mr. Peary's dress seems to obviate this diffi
culty, as with it he was enabled, by just burrowing into a
hole in the snow, to sleep with perfect comfort. I hope to
see some climber try this dress ; it would enable a man to
sleep out very high up, and to push on for several days as
long as he had provisions, without being forced to return
when perhaps within easy reach of his summit, by the
necessity of getting to a camp where there were tents and
sleeping bags.
I should like to mention here in connection with food,
that a most invaluable article of diet on a mountain side
is a roll with a plentiful supply of butter and honey, in
equal parts, put inside. There is no food that stops thirst
quite as effectually as this, and it can often be eaten when
one is too jaded for anything else.
There is another point, besides geographical explora
tions and scientific experiments, in which the mountains
appeal to many persons, and that is the beauty of the
scenery. It has appealed to artists and to photogra-

1 8 Mountain Exploration.
phers.*^ It would not be possible to write a paper on moun
taineering and not refer to the work accomplished by the
distinguished landscape painter, Gabriel Lopp^. He has
done, to me, some of the most wonderful feats of getting
pictures under difficulties. He trained a guide to act as
his artistic porter, and to carry his umbrella, boxes and
canvas, and arrange them all on arriving on a peak, while
he himself could get a breathing space, and his man would
then pack his things up again, so as to save him all trouble
after his sketching was done. Lopp6 showed me in his
studio a number of sketches — large oil sketches — which
he has made from the tops of such mountains as Monte
Rosa, the Rympfischhom and Mont Blanc. He has staid
three weeks at a time at the hut on the Col du G6ant, to
paint, his provisions being brought up six thousand feet
from Courmayeur every day. One of his most curious
feats was painting a sunset from the top of Mont Blanc.
He said it was very hard to induce the guides to go with
him, as everybody said that no one could possibly be on
Mont Blanc late at night and come down alive, and he
told me that it took him a long while to make his guides
comprehend that if people ascended by lantern light, they
could surely just as well descend by lantern light. This
was long before the days of the hut on the Bosses, and he
therefore had to descend the entire way to the Grand
Mulets at night, a matter of five or six hours' climbing.
No one can look at Mr. Whymper's books, with those
wonderful illustrations, without being aware that it was
something more than a mere desire to get up mountains
that induced him to go to the Alps and the Andes. Mr.
" » The illustrations accompanying this paper are phototypes by Messrs.
Gutekunst & Co., of Philadelphia, from sketches by the author. The first is
the peak of the Nadelhorn ; the second, the Mont Emilius from Aosta ;
the third, the range of the Dent du Gfeant from Courmayeur, and the
frontispiece Niigeli's Gratli from the Grimsel.

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Edwin Swift Balch. 19
Donkin and Signor Sella have carried cameras to the tops
of the big peaks of the Alps and the Caucasus, and photo
graphs have been taken from, and of, places that look, and
are, almost inaccessible. But fruitful though such a remark
may be in raising a never-ending discussion, I feel that it
is necessary to warn my hearers that mountain photo
graphs do not in all respects give the only accurate appear
ance of the mountains. I believe that they are topograph
ically accurate, but with a tendency to rather diminish the
steepness of the lines ; while the mind unquestionably has
the tendency to exaggerate the steepness of the moun
tains. When any one who has never seen the mountains
except in photographs gets to the mountains, he will find
them much larger than he had any idea of. A photograph
gives all the details more accurately than any but the
most elaborate painting, but it can never give the sugges
tion of the scene, in the way that a firm water-color sketch
can do. Drawing and form are the flesh and blood of
landscape, but color and effect are its soul, and these are
lacking in photography. I mention this as I do not wish
to see the Kodak usurp entirely the place of the water-
color box in the traveller's outfit. Herr Alexander Seller,
the great hotel proprietor, the uncrowned king of Zermatt,
showed that he understood the greater mental effect of
painting, for when he wanted to advertise the new hotel
on the Riffelalp, he did not have a photograph taken from
nature, but he first had a painting made, and this photo
graphed. By so doing, the Matterhorn rose in its full
majesty, as it is suggested to the mind, and not simply
topographically accurate as a photograph would have
made it. This photograph from a picture was to be seen
all over Switzerland a few years ago, and I have no doubt,
brought not a few francs to the pocket of that clever
Herr Seller.

II.
The first beginnings of mountaineering ; and, indeed,
all early mountaineering, are entirely free from any taint
of the modern climber's idea. There are no attempts to
get up a mountain by the wrong side, simply for the sake
of doing something that nobody has done before. The
early climbers climbed either from a desire for geographical
exploration, or to make scientific discoveries, or for the
sake of the scenery. At first alpenstocks were separated
from the axes, and scientific travellers carried the geolog
ical hammer to cut steps. Ladders were used in all the
early explorations, we are told, to bridge the crevasses.
The art of mountaineering has now been thoroughly
studied, and we find the use of the rope and the ice axe
universal amongst good mountaineers.^
There is a difference between mountaineering and
climbing which I should like to insist on, as it is not always
quite understood. Mountaineering in itself rather belongs
to the field of geographical exploration, and climbing
proper is only a branch of it — though a very important one.
A man might be a good climber and yet a poor moun
taineer. In mountaineering proper it is the head which
does the work, not the muscles. It is a question of knowl
edge, not of mere physical force ; knowledge to find the

' ' Any members of the Club who may turn their attention to mountain
exploration, will find much valuable information about "Equipment" in
The Report of the Special Committee on Equipment for Mountaineers,
in the May number of the Alpine fournal for i8g2, XVI. Longmans, Green
& Co. , London. This report can be had as a separate pamphlet. It contains
a list of firms who supply English mountaineers. There is a chapter on
"Equipment " in The Badminton Library : Jl/ountaineering, by C. T. Dent.
Longmans, Green & Co., London, and Little, Brown & Co., Boston. Many
useful hints can also be found in F. Gallon's Art of Travel. John Murray,
London.

Edwin Swift Balch. 21
road, to keep it, to read the weather. The traveller's part
is not one of mere mechanical effort ; his can be more the
head work, while the guide is certainly better as far as mere
muscular strength and skill. There is very often some
perfectly easy way up some great and fearfully inaccessible-
looking mountain, and good mountaineering consists in
finding that safe and easy way. In sheer climbing you
start to break your neck or not, just as it happens.
To make a good mountaineer is a matter of time and
practice. Going to Chamonix and being led up Mont
Blanc by three or four guides, and then going to other
places and just being led up big peaks is not the way by
which good mountain explorers are made. The best way,
perhaps, would be doing a great many small climbs at first
without any guides, to gradually acquire proficiency of the
elementary principles, and occasionally take a climb with
a good guide to study his methods.
If you take a first-class guide you get the very best
skill that can be had, as he has all the advantage of thor
ough head knowledge and all the physical skill, which I
believe is never really acquired by anybody who has not
been born and who has not lived in the mountains all his
life. The ordinary guide has certain physical advantages
over the amateur, which in almost all cases more than
counterbalance all the amateur's knowledge. He is not
always stronger than the amateur ; indeed, he may be the
weaker man of the two, but he knows better how to apply
his strength. He is able to get up and down rocks on which
an amateur is perfectly helpless, and by the help of the
rope to haul along the amateur after him. From long
experience a guide is generally much more likely to Ijit the
right way on a new mountain than any amateur; he is
also generally better able to read the weather and tell the

22 Mountain Exploration.
likelihood of any storms, and if caught in a storm he is
much more sure of retracing his steps.
Perhaps the first thing that a mountaineer should
learn is the value of an early start ; too many people lose
an hour or two in the morning, and will, perhaps, be rushed
all day in the hope of accomplishing their expedition
before nightfall. In high climbing it is generally best to
start in the small hours ; in fact, it is possibly best to start
in the late hours of the night, and if climbers would only
remember this they would often save themselves much
extra fatigue, and avoid the danger of thunder-storms
which are most frequent towards nightfall.
One of the elementary rules of mountaineering, and
one which it seems to take a long time to acquire, is to
learn to walk very slowly, very steadily, and one might
say rhythmically. The Chamonix guides have a maxim :
" Plus doucement on monte, plus vite on arrive au som
met," and amongst the Italians there is an old saying,
" Chi va piano va sano, chi va sano va lontano." The real
secret of motmtain walking is not to make halts ; if the
slope steepens, to slow down your pace so as not to break
the rhythm of your step, and on rocks to try to accomplish
every bit with the most methodical regularity and the
least possible gymnastic effort.
Reconnoitring a peak belongs more especially to the
mountaineers, not to the climbers. Reconnoitring is
studying out the best route, and knowledge and brains will
tell here. In this branch an amateur may become as
proficient as the best guide, and may be much superior
to any second-rate guide. This part of mountaineering
has not generally enough stress laid on it. To make a
new ascent the peak should be well studied beforehand, so
that the right line of ascent for the entire distance should

Edwin Swift Balch. 23
be taken. It is very much like painting a picture or writing
a paper for the Geographical Club in this respect ; that is,
you should first grasp the whole, and only later the detail.
To try to work out your route whilst you are actually
asc'ending is the best plan to fail. If possible, it is always
best to lay out your route beforehand from some other
mountain facing the peak. From there you can see your
entire route far better than you can when you are on the
mountain itself, when it is quite impossible to lay out the
best course to be followed. You have to consider whether
you will ascend by the face and through couloirs — that is,
snow gullies on the face of the mountain — or by one of
the aretes — that is, by one of the long ridges that lead to-
the summit. Alpine authorities incline both ways ; some
to the faces and some to the aretes. For my own part, I
am inclined to prefer the back of the ridge, as I think one
is in less danger from either stones or avalanches. This-
art of reconnoitring a peak so as to pick out the best route
is one that can only be acquired with a good deal of
experience and by careful knowledge and study of moun
tain structure. Some years ago I made an ascent with
Mr. Seton-Karr, who has since done so much exploring in
Alaska." We each decided on what we considered the
best route for our peak. He said an arfete was the best ;
I inclined to a couloir on the face of the mountain, basing
my belief, I am afraid, on Mr. Whymper's theories. We
eventually went up by my route, and were just able to get
up, as towards the top our mountain was almost imprac
ticably steep. We came down by Mr. Seton-Karr's route,
with the result that — if I remember aright— we did not
have to put on the rope the whole way down.

3 ' Alpine Journal, X, 162.

24 Mountain Exploration.
In general I think one may assume that snow travel
ling is easier than rock travelling. It might be laid down
as an axiom that where snow can lie man can go. Rock
aiguilles, such as the Dru, are the hardest climbing of all.
Snow travelling and ice travelling are generally very
pleasant forms of walking, as there is something pleasanter
in the application of the boot to snow than to rock. As a
rule, of course, snow slopes are not very steep, and beyond a
certain limit of steepness — such as thirty-five degrees — it
is safer for an amateur not to meddle with them. When
one is on snow mountains of any degree of steepness one
must always be on the lookout for avalanches. There have
been cases where parties have been swept away by avalan
ches which have come down from above them. There have
been cases such as Professor Tyndall's on Piz Morteratsch,^
where the avalanche has originated in some one of the
party slipping and the whole mass of snow moving down
the side of the mountain with the party. In Tyndall's case,
as in many others, it was due to bad guiding. An expert
can almost always tell by the consistency of the snow
whether it will lie safely, and whether it is safe to go on
it, and one can generally see a long way ahead, from the
lay of the snow, whether there is any immediate danger of
avalanches. The unpleasant part of snow travelling is
when the snow is soft and you sink in at every step ; some
times up to your waist, when it may become a matter of
difficulty to extricate yourself, and certainly not without
much effort and fatigue.
Step cutting, which is a very important part of snow
travelling, is difficult to do well, and is not to be learned
without a good deal of practice. It is something like a

" J. Tyndall. Hours of Exercise in the Alps.

Edwin Swift Balch. 25
stroke in rowing; beginners are apt to use simply the
arms, while step cutting, to be effective for any length of
time, needs the use of the muscles of the shoulders and
the back ; the arms being rather the means of communi
cation by which the force of the body is carried to the head
of the axe. If you cut simply with your arms you will
Very soon grow tired. But an experienced step-cutter will
work for a long time because he is using his entire muscular
power. Probably the best way to acquire proficiency in
the art would be to practise it at first under the teaching
of a good guide.
In snow travelling it is also of the greatest importance
to the amateur to learn how to sound for crevasses with
the point of his axe, and this is a point that in going with
guides is verymuch neglected, though when you are moun
taineering without guides it is one of those things that
must be used on every snow field. I believe there is
nothing but experience that will tell you when you drive
your axe through the snow as to whether you are driving it
into solid snow, or whether there is a crevasse underneath.
Speaking of crevasses naturally suggests the rope.
Mark Twain, in his ascent of the Riffelberg, states that
he started from Zermatt, and that for fear of accidents
he and his secretary, Harris, were each securely lashed on
the high road to five guides apiece. Mark Twain thought
he was only funny, but in reality he had hit one of the
most important rules of climbing. A great many acci
dents would be avoided if people would not be afraid of
seeming afraid, and would only be willing to put on the
rope when the work is not very difficult. The less a per
son has climbed, as a rule, the more willing is he to take
the risk of walking over snow-covered glaciers without
being roped. For instance, to quote from my own expe-

26 Mountain Exploration.
rience. my brother and I went last year to the Jardin.
Our guide was Fran9ois D6vouassoud, one of the best
men in the Alps, who was Freshfield's guide in the Cau
casus. He did not object in the least to putting on the
rope for all the work we did on the glacier de Leschaux,
but thought it, on the contrary, extremely wise. A French
man made the excursion at the same time with us. He
had never been on a glacier before, and his guide did not
even take the trouble to have a rope. He did not come to
grief, but I could not help thinking, as I saw him walking
amongst the crevasses, that if anything should happen, of
course people would blame the mountains and not that
stupid Frenchman. This falling into snow-covered cre
vasses, where people are not roped together, is a form of
accident which almost every year kills some travellers,
and for which the mountains get all the blame ; though to
illustrate how you can fall into crevasses and not think
anything about them if you are roped in the proper way,
and also to show the difference in power between a first-
rate guide and his employer, I can instance a long tour I
made with a prominent member of the English Alpine
Club, and the two well-known Tyrolese guides, the Spech-
tenhausers.^^ Our guides were on each end of the rope
and we were in the middle. We would come to some
hidden crevasse ; the first guide would sound with his axe
and then step over it ; my English friend would then come
and sink in ; I would then sink in, and the last guide
would step over the crevasse without the least apparent
effort. Tumbling into a crevasse, if you are roped, is a
very small matter, although the sensation if you fall com
pletely through is unique. The most curious part of the

''A.J.Butler. Notes on the Eastem Alps. Alpine fournal, XI, 123.

Edwin Swift Balch. 27
feeling is the inability to put your feet anywhere, the
sensation of utter helplessness that it gives you to be
kicking around trying to get your feet on to something.
From being on the ice and snow in the light you suddenly
find yourself in semi-darkness. The dark green-blue ice
rises in front of you, a lot of very cold snow falls down
the back of your neck, your hat goes down from you, and
you are half crushed by the rope, until the people who
have not gone in haul you out by main force, and you are
landed in a confused heap on top of the glacier.
On snow arfetes it is imperative to keep a sharp look
out for cornice; that is, the overhanging snow on the
ar^te, where the snow has been beaten up by the winter
winds, curled over, and is hanging in space. In ascents
early in the year, before the cornice has fallen, parties are
sometimes in great danger who do not know enough to
keep away from these cornices. Several accidents have
occurred on the Lyskamm at Zermatt from this cause. A
good mountaineer will generally reduce the danger to a
minimum by leading you exactly on the top of th« ridge,
and not on the overhanging snow ; but if the ridge is
exceedingly sharp, it is very difficult not to walk on the
cornice, as, if you attempt to walk on the other side, you
are in danger of detaching avalanches where it is very
steep. The most wonderfully narrow escape on record had Mr.
A. W. Moore,** in a descent of the Monch with Melchior and
Jakob Anderegg; Melchior is renowned in Alpine fame as the
best of guides. I quote Mr. Moore's own words : " As far as
the point of bifurcation the inclination of this southern arete
is very moderate ; beyond that point it becomes steeper.
*° A. W. Moore. The Monch and fungfrau from the Wengern Alp.
Alpine Journal, VII.

28 Mountain Exploration.
It is as narrow as an ar^te can be. On the left hand it is
an absolute precipice ; on the right a slope which might be
called precipitous, falls to the Aletsch Glacier. The quan
tity of snow on the ridge was enormous, and the sun had
begun to tell on it. We knew too much to attempt to
approach the upper edge, and kept at a distance of some
twelve feet below it on the Aletsch side ; lower down we
dared not go, owing to the steepness of the slope and the
danger of starting an avalanche. With Melchior in front,
it is unnecessary to say that we moved with the greatest
caution : no man is more alive than he to the danger aris
ing from a snow cornice. He sounded with his axe at
every step, and we went steadily along, anxious, but with
every reason to believe that we were giving the cornice a
wide berth. Suddenly came a startling cry from Melchior:
at the same instant I felt myself stagger, and instinctively
swinging ever so slightly to the right, found myself the
-next moment sitting astride on the ridge. With a
thundering roar the cornice on our left for a distance of
some two hundred yards, went crashing down to the depths
below, sending up clouds of snow dust which completely
concealed my companions from me. It was only by the
absence of all strain on the rope that I knew — though at
the moment I scarcely realized the fact — that they were,
like myself, safe. As the dust cleared off, Melchior, also
sitting astride of the ridge, turned towards me, his face
white as the snow which covered us ; that it was no personal
fear which had blanched our leader's sunburnt cheeks, his
first words, when he could find utterance, showed : ' God
be thanked !' said he, ' I never thought to see either of
you here.' We had, in fact, escaped destruction by a
hand's breadth. As I believe, our right feet had been on
the ridge, our left on the cornice, and we had just sufficient

Edwin Swift Balch. 29
firm standing ground to enable us to make that instinctive
movement to the right which had landed us k cheval ; for
Jakob had fallen in the same position as myself. Few
words were said, but words poorly express the emotions at
such a moment. Melchior's axe had been carried down
with the cornice as it fell, but had fortunately lodged on
the face of the precipice fifty feet below. It was too pre
cious to leave behind, so we let him down by the rope, and
descending in the cat-like way peculiar to first-class guides
when not hampered by Herrschaft, he regained it without
difficulty." As far as I am personally concerned, I am inclined to
prefer rock climbing to snow climbing. I suppose that it
is with me, as with most amateurs, that one has so much
more opportunity of practising in crags at a low altitude,
that one acquires a much greater proficiency in the art.
When it comes to climbing very bad rocks, I think there is
no question that a good guide is better than any amateur ;
but the charm of rock climbing is that one is always more
or less independent. With a little care there is compara
tively little risk on rocks. I notice that people always
think that the most dangerous thing in the mountains —
the one danger that they seem to notice, is that of slip
ping ; every one thinks he will slip and fall. This is, how
ever, by no means as serious a risk as people think, if
proper precautions are taken ; unfortunately, proper precau
tions are not always taken. I once met an American tour
ist who was about to ascend the Riffelhorn. He started
to tell the landlady what to do with his effects in case
he should be killed ; he thought of making his will. I told
him that if he would only put nails in his boots, instead of
going up with smooth heels, he would be in no need of any
such proceeding, as he would then be in no likelihood of

30 Mountain Exploration.
slipping — the only possible risk on the Riffelhorn. It is
wonderful how quickly, in a bad place, a man drops from
his position as lord of creation and crawls around on all
fours, or lying or sitting down, or in any other strange
position in which he may feel most secure. I remember
once crossing an ar^te ; at one place the rocks were thin,
flat slabs, overhanging on one side, and on the other set at
an angle of about seventy degrees. Being perfectly
smooth, there was no foothold for a distance of about
thirty feet, and we had to move along by hooking our
elbows over the tops of these rocks and hanging on to
them by main force. In descending bad rocks it is gen
erally well to turn your face towards them, and it is always
well to remember that a rock may be loose and prove inse
cure as a handhold or foothold. The only rule that can be
given at all as applying to bad rocks is that one should
have at least three points of attachment to them, either
one hand and both feet, or both hands and one foot.
A great and very real risk is the danger of falling
stones ; because it is one of those risks which it is almost
impossible to guard against. After one has travelled
much in the high Alps there is a certain sound of a crack
above by which one learns to know that a stone is loose,
and which makes one instinctively get ready to hide or to
run. I had a very close call myself some years ago in a
place where any of the ladies of this Club who should hap
pen to visit the Dolomites, and who should wish to take
the much-travelled route from the Ampezzo to the Grod-
ner Thai, would undoubtedly pass. It was on the bridle
path between Caprile and Campidello. The path at one
place leads through the very narrow Sottoguda gorge.
Cliffs rise on both sides several hundred feet in height.
We were a rather large party, one of whom was an Italian

Edwin Swift Balch. 31
with a little child. We were walking quietly along, when
there was a crack overhead — that peculiar crack which is
so uncomfortable to a mountaineer. I remember stopping
instinctively, and before I had time to look or move, a
boulder struck the ground exactly in front of me, and
where my very next step would have been. Another flew
right over our heads. Of course, we all promptly ran
away : one always does in such cases. I mention this par
ticularly in order to show that it is not necessarily in the
very high mountains, but often when not actually climb
ing that you meet with the greatest risks. A stone coming
on a mountain side has a very peculiar sound. It hums
exactly like a hornet. Sometimes it travels so fast that
you will not see it, but you will hear it go by you like a
rifle bullet. On a steep mountain side, such as the side of
the Matterhorn, when a stone does come, it is curious how
quickly a party in a place where they cannot run will flat
ten themselves out against the rocks. I believe it is an
undoubted fact that stones coming down a mountain side
leave a smell of sulphur behind them f at any rate, all the
natives are agreed as to who it is sends them.'"
Another danger constantly present, or at least one for
which experts are always on the lookout, is that of being
caught in a storm. This is probably the greatest danger
in the mountains. Parties have started out, been caught
in a storm, and have never returned, either lost in a
crevasse, or frozen in the snow, or struck by lightning.
There is a good deal of danger if you are caught in

*i E. Whymper. Scrambles Amongst the Alps. Chap. V.
*2 E. Javelle. Souvenirs d'un Alpiniste. " Quand tout fut pass6,
Knubel, qui n'essuyait pas pour la premiere fois le feu de cette batterie, dit
avec un singulier sourire ; 'j'espere ^?^'z7se tiendra tranquille maintenant,
allons et passons vite, c'est ici que nous sommes le plus exposes.'"— "Ascen
sion au Cervin."

32 Mountain Exploration.
a storm of getting irretrievably lost ; such as, for instance,
in the ascent of Mont Blanc in 1870, where eleven persons.
— three tourists and eight guides — were lost and the
bodies of only five were recovered ;^ or the expedition of
Count Villanova, two years ago, which, led by Maquignaz
—the first climber of the Dent du G^ant, and one of
the best mountaineers in Switzerland — started out from
Courmayeur for Mont Blanc and was never heard from,
as a fearful storm came up, and they probably perished in
a crevasse somewhere."
T® illustrate the danger of storms, amongst occur
rences of which I know personally, our President told me
of an adventure he once had on the Grimsel. He started
from the Rhone Glacier with two Englishmen, about five
o'clock one afternoon. The sky was perfectly clear, but
on arriving at the top of the Grimsel towards dusk, on the
Swiss side, they were met by a perfect whirlpool of cloud
which came up from the north, and a violent snow-storm
made them lose their way. They sat down alongside some
boulders ; it was growing dark, and they knew not where
to go. The party could never have endured an Alpine
night in such a storm, and would probably have perished
if it had not been for the dogs at the Grimsel Hospice. I
was at the Grimsel the same year, and the man who kept
the Hospice told me that his dogs, two great, big mastiffs,
always let him know the moment anybody reached the top
of the pass by their barking, the pass being nine hundred
feet above the Hospice, up a steep slope of rocks and
snow. Professor Heilprin and his companions were get
ting exceedingly cold, and were losing hope, when they
were surprised by these dogs jumping on them, and

*' J. Stogdon. The Late Accident on Mont Blanc. Alpine Journal, V.
** Alpine Journal, XV, 274.

Edwin Swift Balch. 33
presently a man who had followed the dogs appeared with
a lantern ; they were all then able to descend in safety.
In an ascent I made some years ago, we were coming
down a very narrow ar^te of rock, and were, fortunately,
at the time very nearly off it. Below us was a long snow
slope. We had reached our peak, the Portienhorn,^' in
very fine weather, but on the descent a storm had come
across the valley from the north, and as it came up to us
it began to thunder. When about fifty feet from the snow,
we were enveloped in a heavy mist. Our ice axes suddenly
began to give out a frightful hissing noise ; they began to
sing and to make a loud buzzing in our hands. There was
a flash of lightning directly after that, but fortunately we
were not struck. Parties have been struck in similar
circumstances, the lightning being perhaps drawn to
them by the steel of their axes.
This danger of getting lost through fogs and storms
is one of the points that a climber should learn to guard
against by training himself to remember the route that he
has taken, in order to be able to retrace his steps. This
faculty is generally absent in amateurs, but strongly
developed in guides, though it is precisely one of those
points that an amateur can do just as well as a guide.
The power of retracing your steps is largely due to the
habit of turning around constantly and taking a mental
impression of your route backwards as you are coming up.
I have not the least doubt that the habit of sketching
largely increases a man's power in finding his route over
again.

*= I made the second ascent of the highest peak of the Portienhorn
(3,660 metres) and the first from the south on June 26, 1882, with Franz
Burgener. We traversed the peak, ascending by the southem arSte aud
descending by the northem arete.

34 Mountain Exploration.
The fascinations of a new ascent are quite beyond the
appreciation of anyone who has not experienced them.
You have your way to find ; you have to keep watching
out that no accident happens ; you have the beauty of the
scenery; all helping you along and inducing you sometimes
to do things that you had much better leave undone.
There are several Philadelphians who have added to our
knowledge of the mountains ; our President has been one of
the explorers of Citlaltepetl and Iztacihuatl ; my friend Mr.
Binney was one of the party with whom I had the pleasure
of first ascending and first naming the Piz Bevers in the
Engadine. He also was the first English-speaking moun
taineer to reach and give an account of the Hochalmspitze,
the most Easterly glacier-bearing peak in Europe."'^ Mr.
Charles Francis Judson, who is also a very excellent
mountaineer, has, amongst other ascents, climbed the
Grand Combin by a new route, an exceedingly brilliant
piece of mountaineering.*'
I think myself that possibly, without being realized
by the climbers themselves, it is the beauty and the weird-
ness of the Alpine world, and the strange and always
changing scenes that you experience on mountain trips,
that induces so many persons to go through the difficulties
and fatigues of climbing. Sunrise above the snow line,
if you are once fairly up at eleven or twelve thousand
feet, amongst fine peaks, is perhaps the most magnificent
sight in the natural world. The view from the Gorner-
grat, if you have gotten up there before the sun rises,
surrounded as you are by the Mischabel, the Lyskamm,
the Weisshorn, and especially with the Matterhorn rising
in its full majesty before you, is one of those views which
*• Alpine Journal, XII, 12$.
^' Alpine Journal, XV, 444.

Edwin Swift Balch. 35
transcend anything one could dream of. The Matterhorn
glows before the sun rises with a most unearthly radiance,
catching the reflection from the clouds, the air, and the
sky, until long before you see the sun, the tip catches a
faint flush of rosy gold which then descends the entire
peak. Everything is gold in the lights and pale blue-gray
in the shadows. Neither the Bay of Naples, nor anything
I have seen on the ocean, nor in the flat countries, nor
Niagara, seem to me to offer quite the grandeur that a fine
mountain scene gives us. The most magnificent view I
ever had was an hour and a half spent on the Ortler in the
early morning of a cloudless day, before any snow clouds
had arisen around the peaks. We were thirteen thousand
feet up, in the highest spot in the Eastern Alps, with all our
surroundings pale blue and shining silver, and from our
summit could see all the Alps of Tyrol and all the Alps of
Eastern Switzerland— the Dolomites, the Engadine, all
their peaks revealed to us in hundreds and hundreds. Such
a view amply repays one for the troubles and fatigues of
many a long day's work, and I think anyone who has once
looked upon such a scene can understand why men will
brave the difficulties and dangers of mountaineering, and
comprehend its fascinations.