THE ALPS FROM END TO END THE ALPS FROM END TO END By Sir WILLIAM MARTIN CONWAY WITH IOO FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. D. M'CORMICK J8i m Wm¥t ^««/S^l^i_»W8_^/'Wflil^B__! (WttftmintfUv ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO. 1895 EcUou.gjlf ~Vv\ ~W-\ ( Edinburgh : T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty CONTENTS CHATTER PAOE I. INTRODUCTORY, 1 17 346197 II. THE MARITIME ALPS, III. THE COTTIAN ALPS, . IV. THE WESTERN GRAIANS, V. MONT BLANC, . . . . VI. THE BUET, CHAMONIX TO S. MAURICE, 116 VII. THE BERNESE OBERLAND, WESTERN PART, S. MAURICE TO THE GEMMI, . . 131 VIII. MONTE ROSA, . . 158 IX. BERNESE OBERLAND, . 177 X. URI AND GLARUS, . . . 208 XI. MOUNTAIN EALLS, . 237 XII. THE RHATIKON AND SILVRETTA GROUPS, . 251 XIII. OETZ AND STUBAI MOUNTAINS, .... 269 XIV. ZILLERTHAL AND VENEDIGER GROUPS, . 293 XV. GROSS GLOCKNER AND EASTWARD, .... 324 XVI. TIROLESE SCRAMBLES IN 1875 (I.) THE WILDER FREIGER, . . 354 (II.) THE BOTZER, 361 (ill.) THE WILDE KREUZ SPITZE, 365 viii CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XVII. A RUN THROUGH THE WESTERN AND CENTRAL ALPS, 370 (I.) THE MARITIME ALPS, . 372 (ll.) THE COTTIAN ALPS (E. BIT), . 374 (ill.) THE CENTRAL DAUPHINY ALPS (W. COTTIANS), 376 (IV.) THE GRAIAN ALPS, . .379 (V.) THE CHAIN OF MONT BLANC, 384 (VI.) THE NORTH ROUTE THROUGH THE SWISS ALPS, . 386 (VII.) THE SOUTH ROUTE THROUGH THE SWISS ALPS, . 390 North End of Colle di Tenda Tunnel, 17 Punta Fenestrelle, Punta Dei Gelas, and other Peaks East of the head of the Rovina Valley, from near the Top of the Chiapous Col, 27 Punta Argentera from the North, 28 Punta Argentera from Ascent to Colle di Val Miana, 29 Looking South from Colle di Val Miana, 31 Returning from the Colle di Val Miana, 32 Road from S. Damiano to Elva, . 38 Looking South from near Elva, 40 Looking South from the Pelvo d'Elva, 43 Monte Viso from the foot of the Pelvo d'Elva, 44 A View from the Viso Hut, . . 49 Monte Viso from near Crissolo, . 51 Descent of Monte Viso. Sanctuary of S. Giaffredo, 53 S. Giaffredo, Crissolo, 55 The Party on the Colle Delle Porte, 57 The Dent Parrachee from the Rateau, 65 ' The Fourth Child of Milk,' . 68 Aiguille de la Sassiere, . . 73 Aiguille de la Saniere from the Pointe de la Traversiere, . 81 A Rest by the Way, 88 In the Allee Blanche, . 93 Grandes Jorasses from the Allee Blanche, 95 Exit of the Combal Lake, . . 97 Southern Glacier de Miage from its Foot, 99 Southern Glacier de Miage and D6me Glacier, 101 Southern Glacier and Col de Miage, 102 THE ALPS FROM END TO END Mont Blanc, seen across the D6me Glacier from the Bionnassay Hut, . . . . Aig. de Bionnassay, from Bionnassay Arete of Mont Blanc, Bionnassay Arete of Mont Blanc, . Col de Miage from Bionnassay Arete of Mont Blanc, The Bionnassay Arete of Mont Blanc, VallotHut, ... Vallot Observatory and Hut, Approaching the D6me du Gouter from the West, Mont Maudit from South Slope of Dome du Gouter, Mont Blanc and the Bosses from the South-west slopes of the D6me du Gouter, Summit of Mont Blanc, View from the Summit of Mont Blanc, .... Mont Blanc de Courmayeur from top of Mont Blanc, Mont Blanc from near the Col d'Emancy, . Grand Combin from the Col d'Emancy, Grand Mouveran from Gryon, The Plaine Morte Glacier, looking East, Looking towards the Gemmi, from the Lammern Glacier, . The Rhone Valley from the Angle of the Leuk Valley, Hdchste Spitze of Monte Rosa from the Nord End, Breithorn from Foot of Lo'tschen Glacier, On the Way to the Lotschenliicke, . Lotschenliicke from the West, The Lotschenliicke from the Concordia Hut, Aletsch Glacier from the Concordia Hut, . Jungfraujoch, Monch, and Eiger from the Roththalsattel, . Finsteraarhorn from the Top of the Jungfrau, Curved Track of a Fallen Ice-block, The Galmi Peaks from the Walliser Viescher Glacier, On the Oberaar Glacier, , View from a Point on the South Ridge of the Galenstock looking Eastward at Dawn, . .... The Rhone Valley from the Top of the Galenstock, at page 104 ?) 106 51 108 )» 110 )» 112 )1 114 )> 116 U 118 » 120 ¦>} 122 _M 124 J» 126 J» 127 >) 128 J) 131 )) 132 ») 151 )) 155 )J 158 . » 171 ?) 177 51 178 1) 180 ¦>> 182 5) 184 )I 186 .» 188 )» 191 » 192 )) 194 5) 198 JJ 200 ILLUSTRATIONS xi The Neve of the Rhone Glacier from the Top of the Galenstock, . Gletschhorn and Peaks beyond from the Top of the Galenstock, Galenstock from Gletscbjoch, Gletschhorn from the Tiefenglacier near the Foot of the Galen stock couloir, .... The Gletschjoch from near Goscheneralp, . Piz Gurkha from the Hiifi. Glacier, Summit of Piz Gurkha, The Todi from Piz Gurkha, Todi and Sand Alp Valley, from Ueli, Carrel overwhelmed by Sheep at Niischen, The Interior of the Muttsee Hut, . Amar Sing on the Rock tooth, Meer Pass, . The Martinsloch, from the West, . Gully below the Martinsloch on the East side, The Liinersee from the Top of Scesaplana, Scesaplana from the Verra Joch, . Ubelsthalferner from the new Teplitz Hut, On the Schlussejoch, Pfitscherthal from below the Schlusseljoch, Near S. Jacob in the Pfitscherthal, From the Wiener Hut, looking West, On the Way up the Hochfeiler, Ascending the Hochfeiler, . The Dolomites seen over the Weisszintjoch, The Neveserjoch from the Eisbruckjoch, The Gross Venediger from the Krimmlerthb'rl, Amar Sing, Karbir, and Herr Jagermeyer in the Kiirsinger Hut, Outside the Kursingerhiitte, drinking Kaiser Franz Joseph's Health on his Birthday, . Looking West from the Adlersruhe, Sunrise from the Adlersruhe, on the Gross Glockner, looking North-east, Looking South-east from the Adlersruhe, . The Gross Venediger from the Gross Glockner, . at page 202 55 204 55 205 55 206 55 208 55 211 55 212 55 214 55 222 55 224 55 226 J) 229 55 231 55 232 55 258 260 55 288 55 293 55 294 55 296 J) 299 5) 300 55 302 55 304 55 306 5) 311 55 312 3 55 318 55 331 55 332 55 333 51 334 Xll THE ALPS FROM END TO END From the Top of the Gross Glockner, looking North, . . at page 334 The Klein Glockner from the top of the Gross Glockner, . „ 336 The Gross Glockner from the Klein Glockner, „ 336 The Schareck from the Sonnblick, . . -55 340 View from the Ankogel looking North, . „ 345 Hochalmspitz from the Ankogel, . . „ 346 Starting down from the Hanover Hut, . „ 351 CHAPTER, I INTRODUCTORY Changes have been taking place so rapidly throughout the lifetime of this generation that it is impossible for one who during, say, five-and-twenty years, has been interested in some line of study or activity, to look back to the beginning of his career without emotions similar to those felt on turning to the history of a remote epoch. When I began climbing mountains, almost a quarter of a century ago, mountaineering, at all events in the Alps, was a very different matter from what it is to-day. The age of Alpine conquest was even then approaching its close, but present conditions did not prevail, and the sentiment of climbers was still that of pioneers. The old-fashioned climber, the mountain hero of my boyhood, was a traveller and desired to be an explorer. When he went to the Alps he went to wander about and to rough it. He probably thought he could reduce the number of peaks still unclimbed and by most people conceived to be unclimbable, and it was his chief ambition to do so. The desire to discover new routes, which still lingers among Alpine travellers, is a belated survival from A 2 THE ALPS FROM END TO END the days when most Alpine peaks were unclimbed. It is now being supplanted by emulation in the accomplishment of ascents of extreme difficulty. The rush of tourists that came with improved means of communication and the development of railways, roads, and inns throughout the frequented and more accessible parts of Switzerland, could not be without effect upon mountaineering. The change at first showed itself in a change of habit of the systematic climber, the man for whom Alpine climbing takes the place of fishing or shooting. Ceasing to be a traveller he has acquired the habit of settling down for his holiday in a comfortably furnished centre, whence he makes a series of ascents of the high mountains within reach. Previously mountaineering was one of the best forms of training for a traveller, and indeed supplied, for busy persons whose annual holiday must be short, experi ence of all the charms, excitements, and delights which reward the explorer of distant and unknown regions of the earth. The object of the journey now to be described was to discover whether the time had not come when a return might be made to the habits of Alpine pioneers. Of course the mystery is gone from the Alps, how completely none but climbers know. Almost every mountain and point of view of even third-rate importance has been ascended, most by many routes. Almost every gap between two peaks has been traversed as a pass. The publications of some dozen mountaineer- INTRODUCTORY 3 ing societies have recorded these countless expeditions in rows of volumes of appalling length. Of late years vigorous attempts have been made to co-ordinate this mass of material in the form of Climbers' Guides, dealing with particular districts, wherein every peak and pass is dealt with in strict geographical succession and every different route and all the variations of each route are set forth, with references to the volumes in which they have been described at length by their discoverers. Nearly half the Alps has been treated in this manner, but the work has taken fourteen years, and of course the whole requires periodic revision. It occurred to me that it was now possible, taking the whole range of the Alps, to devise a route, or rather a combination of climbs, the descent from each ending at the starting-point for the next, so that a climber might begin at one extremity of the snowy range and walk up and down through its midst to the other extremity over a continuous series of peaks and passes. The Alps, of course, though spoken of as a range, are not a single line of peaks, but a series of locally parallel ridges covering a region. There is no continuous Alpine ridge stretch ing from one end of the region to the other. It would be possible to devise a countless variety of com binations of peaks and passes, each of which would fulfil the conditions of my plan. Some would take years to carry out, for they would lead over peaks that can only be ascended under exceptionally good conditions of weather. 4, THE ALPS FROM END TO END The route selected had to be capable of execution within three months of average weather, which is a mixture of good and bad, with the bad predominat ing. It was also essential that it should lead as con tinuously as possible through snowy regions and that it should traverse as many of the more interesting and well-known groups as possible. By beginning with the smaller ranges at the southern extremity of the Alpine region we were able to start early in the summer season with the maximum of time before us. The Colle di Tenda, over which goes the road from Turin to Ventimiglia, is regarded as the southern limit of the Alps and the boundary between them and the Apennines. Thither therefore we transferred our selves on the 1st of June. The first division of the journey was thence to Mont Blanc, which naturally had to be crossed ; the line of route therefore lay partly in France, but chiefly in Italy, the Dauphiny mountains being of necessity omitted as lying aside of the direct way. At Mont Blanc we had to choose between two main possible ways. We might go along the southern Pennine, Lepon- tine, and other ranges, or by the northern Oberland ridge and its eastward continuations. I chose the northern route as being shorter and, to me, more novel. Arriving thus at the eastern extremity of Switzerland the general line to be followed across the Tirol was obvious, the final goal being the Ankogl, the last snowy peak in the direc tion of Yienna, some two hundred miles from that city. AYMONOD, CARREL, AND KARBIR To face page 5 INTRODUCTORY 5 The party assembled at the Colle di Tenda for this expedition was rather a large one as Alpine parties go. I was fortunate enough to secure as companion my friend Mr. E. A. FitzGerald, an experienced climber. He brought with him two well-known guides — J. B. Aymonod and Louis Carrel, both of Valtournanche, a village near the south foot of the Matterhorn. Carrel is famous as one of the guides who accompanied Mr. Whymper to the Andes. For the first part of the journey I engaged my old Himalayan companion, the guide Mattias Zurbriggen of Macugnaga, and I was also accompanied by two of the Gurkhas (natives of Nepal) who were with me in the Himalayas, to wit, Lance Naick Amar Sing Thapa and Lance Naick Karbir Bura Thoki, both of the first battalion of the 5th Gurkha Rifles. It was through the kindness of my friend Colonel Gaselee that these men were per mitted to come home and join our caravan. The Gurkhas are admirable scramblers and good weight- carriers, but they were not experienced in the craft of climbing snow-mountains. They had begun to learn the use of axe and rope in India, but it was felt that, if they could spend a further period of three months at work under first-rate guides, their mountaineering education would be advanced and they would be better able thereafter to assist in Himalayan exploration, which up till now has been so neglected. It was in view of giving them experience of snow and glacier work that 6 THE ALPS FROM END TO END our route was devised to keep as far as possible to snow and to avoid rather than seek rock-scrambling, in which they were already proficient. Fortunate people who live in islands or without bellicose neighbours have no idea of the excitements of frontier travel in Central Europe. So long as you merely want to cross from one country into another there is only the customs-house nuisance to be fought through; but if you try to settle down near a frontier and enjoy yourself in a normal fashion, walking to pretty points of view and staring about as you please, all sorts of annoyances and impediments arise in your way ; whilst if you wish to travel along the frontier these become indefinitely multiplied. It is useless to try dodging gendarmes and folks of that kidney on the Franco-Italian frontier. They are too numerous, active, and suspicious. We knew this and made what we sup posed were sufficient arrangements beforehand. Ministers and august personages were approached by one another on our behalf, friendly promises were given, and the way seemed smooth before us ; but we started along it too soon, not bearing in mind that governmental machineries, though they may ultimately grind exceed ing small, do so with phenomenal slowness. When there fore we actually came upon frontier ground we were not expected and the ways were often closed against us. It was not till just as we were leaving Italy for the unsuspicious and more travelled regions of Upper INTRODUCTORY 7 Savoy and Switzerland that the spreading wave of orders and recommendations in our favour, washing outwards from the official centre, broke against the mountain wall and produced a sudden profusion of kindnesses and attentions which, if they had come a fortnight sooner, would have made our journey more pleasant, if not more successful. As it was, however, we were treated in the Maritime and Cottian Alps as probable spies. The peaks and passes we wanted to climb were closed against us, and we had continually to change our plans in order to avoid fortresses and the like futilities, sight of which in the far distance without permission is a crime. Nor were these political difficulties the only ones we had to contend against in the first part of our journey. Eager to be early on the ground, we arrived too early. None of the inns were open in the upper valleys and the high pastures and huts were deserted, so that we had to descend low for food and often to sleep in the open air. Moreover, to make matters worse, the season was backward. The mass of winter snow had waited till May to fall, and in June the mountains were draped with a white vesture proper to the month of March. Ascents which should have been simple thus became dangerous or even impossible from avalanches. It was, therefore, in every sense a misfortune that our start was not delayed at least a fortnight. Future travellers will do well to postpone an intended visit 8 THE ALPS FROM END TO END to the Maritimes for climbing purposes till the 21st June at earliest. From Limone, where our journey may be said to have commenced, to Lend, near Wildbad Gastein, where it ended, we traversed on foot about 1000 miles. The distance wheeled off on the large scale maps with a Morris's Chartometer, came out almost exactly 900 miles ; but as no account was taken of the minor zigzags, which form so considerable a part of every mountain ascent, an additional allowance must be made for them. It must also be remembered that the horizontal projection of a route, as on a map, is shorter than the up and down hypothenuses actually traversed. In allowing therefore an extra hundred miles for these considerations, we are not, I believe, claiming the full extent of our debt We let it go at a thou sand miles for round numbers' sake. We were eighty- six days between start and finish, and during sixty -five of them we were on the march ; the remaining twenty- one were devoted for the most part to writing, though one or two were absolute holidays, and perhaps half a dozen were days of halt caused by storm. We climbed in all twenty-one peaks and thirty-nine passes. If the weather had been better, the peaks would have been more and the passes fewer ; but the weather was offcener bad than good, and we had to push forward by such routes as were practicable in the teeth of storms. It is curious that throughout the whole INTRODUCTORY 9 summer, we were not once caught by a thunderstorm on the mountains. I am not without hope that the publication of this book, and especially of the final chapter, so kindly contributed by the Rev. W. A. B. Coolidge, the most learned expert in Alpine topography that has ever lived, will induce others to follow our example and set forth to see the whole Alpine region. Such a course may be specially recommended to beginners in mountaineer ing, who will thereby derive more experience in a given time and at less expense than they could attain by settling themselves down in one or two well-known centres. My advice to a beginner is this. Let him spend his first season in one of the great centres, climbing under the tutelage of a first-rate guide. Having thus learnt the rudiments of his craft, let him boldly strike forth with a couple of amateurs, if possible more experienced than himself, and taking a series of easy expeditions, let him traverse the moun tains of the Tirol without guides. In succeeding years he will be able to pass through the higher and more difficult ranges, climbing always in good company, but only occasionally taking a guide. Three or four seasons of this kind of work will give him all the experience needed for mountain-exploration in any part of the world. He will acquire a knowledge of the Alps as a range or region of mountains and not merely as a casual assemblage of crags affording gymnastic 10 THE ALPS FROM END TO END problems. If as he goes along he pays attention to geological phenomena and keeps his eyes open to all matters of natural beauty and interest, he will derive not merely health but education of a high order from each successive summer holiday. A long mountain traverse, consisting of a series of ascents and descents, conveys a truer idea of any moun tain region than can be yielded by a number of climbs radiating from a centre. Observe that the valleys in any mountain area are depressions below its average plane, just as the peaks are eminences left standing above the average. A traveller who approaches a group of mountains by way of the valleys, and climbs each peak from some valley centre, naturally receives the impression that the valley level is the normal one, and that whatever is above that level is part of a peak. The climber, however, who takes a fine across a series of peaks and ridges cannot avoid more justly regarding the whole mountain-mass as an elevated region, from whose mean level he descends into excavated hollows, or mounts to the summits of protu berances, which are in fact the relatively insignificant ruins of a formerly yet more elevated mass. Thus he grasps the nature of the mountain region more truly than a ' Centrist ' can, and when he stands on some lofty eminence commanding a wide extending panorama, the view is self-explained in all its great features. It is a well-recognised fact that the size of mountains can only be appreciated by an experienced eye. New- INTRODUCTORY n comers to the hills always under-estimate, sometimes absurdly under-estimate, magnitudes and distances. It is only when a man has climbed peaks, and learned by close inspection the actual dimensions of such details as bergshrunds, couloirs, cornices, and the like, that he is enabled to see them from afar off for what they are. The beginner has to learn size by disappointment and fatigue. The shoulder that seems so near takes hours to reach. He begins by distrusting his estimates and ends by acquiring the power of estimating justly. What applies to individual peaks seen from a moderate distance, — the Lyskamm or Monte Eosa, for instance, from the Gorner Grat, — applies with yet more force to panoramic and distant views. The eye, even of an experienced ' Centrist/ probably fails to attain any true conception of the area of a view by roving over its multitudinous details. When, however, a man has traversed the depth of a mountain region on foot, and climbed a succession of peaks and passes, beholding from each the next and the last and others later to come or more remotely left behind, he has within him a scale whereby to measure the depth as well as the extent of a view. He per ceives, without need to reason, the correct relation of the parts in all the visible area that at any moment surrounds him. An obvious advantage possessed by the wanderer from end to end of the Alpine region is his power of observing and comparing the qualities of the scenery in different 12 THE ALPS FROM END TO END parts and of gaining a clear idea of the larger natural features. He learns to think of the Maritime Alps as a ridge lying between sea and plain and commanding views of both. The Cottians he remembers for their wave-like sequence washing south ; the Graians for the seeming irregularity of their arrangement and the lovehness of their valleys and hillside tarns. Mont Blanc enthrones itself once for all in his mind as monarch of the whole range. The limestone wall-peaks that fringe the northern range from the Buet to the Glarnisch and yet further east, come to be thought of as a single feature characteristic of the region as a whole, com parable, in this sense, to the long depression of the Rhone and Rhine valleys. All the great groups, Pennines, Oberland and so forth, come to be known not by the individual peaks they bear — mere trifling Matterhorns, Finsteraarhorns and the like — but as huge masses of the folded earth-crust, compared with which peaks are details of small account. When we started walking in June, it is probable that none of us were in very good condition. Our early ascents were made in a region which nowhere rises to a high level, and for some days we did not reach an altitude of 10,000 feet. At this time we frequently experienced discomfort from the effect of diminished atmospheric pressure. The fact appears to be worth record, for I do not remember ever before noticing any similar sensations in Europe at so low an elevation. I INTRODUCTORY 13 shall describe only my own experiences, but they were similar to those of the rest of the party. I have said that we were not in good mountaineering condition, but I was not in bad condition either. I had been takinsr two hours' exercise with daily regularity for several months and could walk twenty miles, at any rate, without incon venient fatigue. I was in fact distinctly pleased with myself the first day in the hills, and thought I had never begun an Alpine season so well. My disgust was all the greater next morning, when, at about 7000 feet, all the symptoms overtook me in a mild form that we used to feel at about 19,000 feet in the Karakorams. There was the same peculiar fatigue, the same discomfort if the regularity of breathing were interfered with, the same disinclination to stoop or permit the arms to press against the sides. I should probably not have noticed these effects in detail if Himalayan experience had not familiarised me with each of them in an acute form. The faintest suggestion of them was therefore immedi ately perceived and recognised for what it was. It is certain that the diminution in the supply of oxygen to the blood is the cause of so-called mountain sickness. In order that the blood may be supplied at a high level with the same amount of oxygen in a given time as it is accustomed to be brought in contact with at sea-level, a proportionately greater volume of air must be passed through the lungs in that time. This may be accomplished by breathing deeper or more rapidly; in 14 THE ALPS FROM END TO END either case a greater amount of work is thrown upon certain muscles than they are accustomed to. If a man has a generally strong and healthy frame or possesses the swift adaptability which is the special characteristic of youth, he may be able to meet such a demand without inconvenience. As a rule, however, the special muscles must be brought into training, and, for this, time is re quired which will probably be longer for an older man than for a youngster. Before I was thirty years of age, I could go from England to the Alps and climb the first day ; it takes me now longer every year to get into climbing condition, and this without reference to the general condition for low-level exercise in which I may start. These remarks seemed worth recording because one so often hears climbers state that, having never experienced any discomfort from diminished atmospheric pressure, they believe men mistake lack of condition and fatigue for such discomfort. The fact is that lack of condition manifests itself in this form, but it requires closer observation than most climbers devote to matters passing under their notice to differentiate between the symptoms of mere fatigue, the same at all levels, and those of lack of condition in a man's breathing apparatus. During the course of the summer and when our con dition left nothing to be desired I yet on several occasions noticed trifling indications of the same symptoms ; once, for instance, late at night in the Mutten See hut, and INTRODUCTORY 15 several times after drinking mulled red wine. My belief is that the vigour of every man begins to be diminished at a very moderate elevation above sea-level, and diminishes further with every increment of height till a level is reached where even the dullest observer perceives that something is wrong. To find a scale of comparison for one's energies at different levels is the difficulty. It is easy to tell when one is doing one's best, but to compare the efficiency of that best at various times and under varying circumstances is not at all easy, and for the unobservant is impossible. A few remarks on the equipment carried on this journey will be less out of place here than in the body of the narrative. We carried with us a Mummery tent (made by Edgington) and two eider-down sleeping bags, so that we were independent of shelter as far as Fitz- Gerald and I were concerned. Each of us had a small (^-plate) camera, mine being a ' Luzo ' which I have used for years with continued satisfaction. The Eastman film supplied for it gave satisfaction. As a head-covering for climbing purposes I employ, and intend for the future to adhere to, a turban, formed of a long strip of soft woollen stuff wound about the head. This serves as protection against both heat and cold. The end can be wound about the neck and face. The whole strip can be used as an extra garment and is invaluable in case of being benighted. In valleys the strip is rolled up and put in a knapsack, whilst on the hillside there is 16 THE ALPS FROM END TO END no populace to stare and a man may wear what he pleases without becoming conspicuous. Amar Sing's turban was made of a good big Kashmir shawl, which he used as a rug at night. In a storm on one occasion he made a tent of it, under which four men took shelter. Of course all of us who had them wore pattis for gaiters.1 Aymonod and Carrel were so envious of our comfort in snow that they both declared their intention of providing themselves with pattis on the earliest occasion. The difficulty is that they have to be specially woven. It is no use cutting a strip of cloth five or six inches wide and three yards long out of a broader piece of stuff and hemming the edges ; they will inevitably fray. Pattis must end at both sides with selvage edges ; that is to say, they must be specially woven in a narrow loom. Carrel said that he would try to introduce the industry of _p