Part 8 (1/2)

(M117)

Before long, the smooth unbroken snow slope leading up to the Col du Mont Rouge, glistening like a sheet of amber-coloured satin in the light of early dawn, came into sight. One of the party, who had complained throughout of the slow pace at which he had been going, and who was already far ahead, now went through a singular performance. Conceiving that he would stimulate us to greater exertion by displaying his own agility, he suddenly shot forth, as an arrow from the bow, and ran at great speed on to the snow slope. But he had misjudged the hardness of the snow. It fell out, therefore, that after two or three curious flounders his limbs suddenly shot out to all points of the compa.s.s. A desperate effort to recall his members under control resulted only in his suddenly coiling up into a little round ball, like a spider in a state of nervousness, and in that shape descending with considerable momentum, and not a few b.u.mps, down the slope over some k.n.o.bby stones and on to a fortunately placed little gra.s.s ledge. When we joined him a few minutes later, he observed unblus.h.i.+ngly that he had found a capital place for breakfast. So have I seen a skater, after performing a few exercises of a somewhat violent nature, resembling the dances performed by n.i.g.g.e.r minstrels wearing excessively long boots, suddenly sit down and instantly adjust a perfectly correctly applied strap. On resuming our journey the agile member was firmly secured with a rope, for fear, as we told him, that he should become possessed with a sudden idea to hunt for a suitable place for luncheon by resorting to his previous tactics. Somewhat crestfallen, he took a place in the rear of the caravan, and condescended to make use of the little notches sc.r.a.ped out by the leader in the hard snow.

(M118)

A few minutes later the full sunlight of early morning burst upon us, and produced, as it always does on such occasions, a feeling of supreme contempt for those slothful individuals who had not got up as early as we had. This moment of exhilaration is often the very best of a whole expedition, and is apt to lead, I know not why, to an ebullition of feeling, which usually takes the form of horse-play and practical joking.

A series of gentle slopes led us up to the Col. Our ascent took us gradually round the base of the Ruinette, and we cast anxious glances to our right to see if any practicable line of rocks could be made out. The mountain is tolerably steep from this side, but the rocks are broken and were bare of snow. On the summit of the Col the party divided, the agile person and some of the others deciding that they would go straight on to Arolla, while Burgener and I bespoke the services of the porter, and made straight for the long b.u.t.tress of rock running down almost directly to the Col on the north-west face of the mountain. Half an hours complicated scrambling resulted in our attaining a little level plateau of rock on the ridge. As we looked down on to the great snow-field from which the Gtroz glacier takes its origin, we perceived, far away, the forms of our companions looking like a flight of driven grouse about a quarter of a minute after the sportsman has missed them with both barrels. No doubt they were enjoying themselves thoroughly, but from our point of view the sight of some four or five individuals walking along at ten-foot intervals with bowed heads and plodding gait did not suggest any very consummate pleasure. Rejoicing, therefore, that they were making nice tracks for us to follow later in the day, we turned again to the rocks above. Following always the ridge, we clambered straight up, and found opportunities for very pretty gymnastics (that is, from our own point of view) on this part of the mountain. Our object was to select rocks that would give good practice in climbing, rather than to pick out the easiest possible line, and as a result we got into more than one difficult place, difficult enough at any rate to demand much conversation on the part of the guides.

In about three hours from the Col we found ourselves looking over the arte on to the southern side of the mountain with a very compact and varied view in all directions. Close by, the long ridge of the Serpentine formed a fine foreground, and a wide expanse of glacier district made up a tolerably wild panorama. A few minutes climbing along the crest landed us above a deep notch filled in with soft snow. Into this we plunged, and in another minute or two stood on the summit of the Ruinette. So far as we knew at the time, the mountain had not previously been ascended from the northern side, and, indeed, the peak does not appear to be visited nearly so often as it deserves. Following for the most part the same line as that taken during the ascent, we regained, in about a couple of hours, the Col.

Here we hunted diligently, seeking what we might devour, and feeling sure that our friends would have left us something as a reward for our energy.

It transpired, however, subsequently, that the agile persons exertions had provoked in him such an appet.i.te that there was little if anything to leave, so we followed the tracks laid out in the snow, noticing with some concern that one member of the previous party had sunk at every step some eighteen inches deeper into the soft compound than anybody else. By the marks on the snow we perceived, also, that he had trailed his axe along by his side, a sure sign of weariness. By sunset we had gained the Pas de Chvres, and ran gaily down the gentle slope towards the hotel. A little distance from the building we came so suddenly upon a manly form, outstretched, like a stranded star-fish, on a mossy bank, that we almost leaped upon his stomach. Yet he moved not, and was apparently wrapped in slumber. We stopped and crept cautiously up to survey him more closely. It was the agile person.

2. _A Little Maiden._

(M119)

In the old days of mountaineering, Saas was a place more often talked about than visited. The beauty of the scenery around was indeed unquestionable, the number of expeditions of every degree of difficulty seemed almost without limit, first-rate guides could be obtained with ease, and yet there was never any difficulty in finding quarters in the hotels. In ascending the main valley from Visp the great stream of travellers divided at Stalden into a large stream that made its way to Zermatt and a little rivulet that meandered along the much finer valley towards Saas and the Mattmark. It thus fell out that, notwithstanding a small body of indefatigable mountaineers had explored the higher peaks and pa.s.ses on both sides of the valley with tolerable completeness, there was left a considerable number of smaller expeditions capable of providing good amus.e.m.e.nt for the climber desirous of acquiring fame or of exploring the less known districts. In these days, when the soaring ambition of mountaineers has led them to climb heights far greater than any found in the Alps, an account of an expedition of an unimportant peak may seem out of place. Indeed, its details were so devoid of sensational incident that the recital may be dull; but, as will appear directly, that is not the writers fault; at any rate, he ventures to give it, for the same reason that invariably prompts youthful authors to write unnecessary books; that is, as they say in their preface, to supply a want long felta want, it may be stated, usually felt in their own pockets and nowhere else.

With every respect to the older generation of mountaineers, they are much to blame in one matter. The stock of Alpine jokes is scanty; indeed, a well-read author can get them all, with a little arrangement, into the compa.s.s of one short description of a day in the mountains. Again, the number of Alpine subjects lending themselves to facetiousness is but small. The supply has been proved beyond question entirely inadequate to meet the demand, but former writers have recklessly drawn on this limited stock and entirely exhausted the topics, if not the readers. Some allowance may therefore be made when the position is considered, and it is realised that the writer is endeavouring to patch together a fabric with materials almost too threadbare for use, and that he is compelled wholly to pa.s.s by such attractive topics as the early start and consequent ill-temper, the dirty porter, the bergschrund, the use of tobacco, or the flea. The last-mentioned beast is in fact now universally prohibited from intrusion into polite Alpine literature; he has had his day. But why? he has surely some right to the place. An eminent French composer(6) has written a ballad in his honour; but though, as old Hans Andersen wrote, he was much thought of at one time, and occupied a high position, seeing that he was in the habit of mixing with the human race, and might even have royal blood in his veins, yet he is now deposed. I cannot forbear from paying a last tribute to the memory of a departing, though formerly constant, companion. To find oneself obliged to cut the acquaintance of a friend whom I have fed with my own hand must give rise to some qualms.

Unfortunately, too, the older writings are too well known of many to be dished up again in altered form, like a Sunday dinner in the suburbs; so that even the most common form of originality, videlicet, forgetfulness of the source from which you are borrowing, is forbidden. Plagiarism is a crime that seldom is allowed to pa.s.s undetected. There are many people in this world possessed of such a small amount of originality themselves, that they spend their whole time in searching for the want of that quality in others. The human inhabitants of the ark, unless they made the most of their unexampled opportunities for the study of natural history, must have become desperately bored with each other, and no doubt, when set free, said all the good things, each in their own independent nucleus of commencing society, which they had heard while immured. On the whole, it is fortunate for writers that the period known as the dark ages came to pa.s.s; it allowed those who commenced their career on this side of the hiatus to make, on the old lines, a perfectly fresh start.

(M120)

Perhaps no country in the world has had the minute topography of its uninhabited districts so thoroughly worked out as Switzerland. Beyond question the orography is more accurately given than anywhere else; in this respect, indeed, no other country can compare with it. It might seem, even to those who have studied the matter, almost impossible to find any corner of the Alps that has not been described; and the discovery that a few superficial square yards of Swiss territory, arranged on an incline, had not been discussed in detail came upon the writer with somewhat of a shock. It was clearly somebodys duty to rectify the omission and fill the gap; whether the expedition was of importance from any point of view, or whether any one in the wide world had the smallest desire to read a description of it, was a matter of no moment whatever. There was a vacuum, and it was a thing abhorrent. The mountain, to which reference is made above, lies east of Saas, and is known to such of the inhabitants as have any knowledge of geography as the Portienhorn. Substantially this peak is the highest point of a long rocky ridge running north and south, and called the Portien Grat.

(M121)

One fine evening we sat outside the inn at Saas just before dinner, seriously discussing the prospect of climbing this mountain. The guides were of opinion that we ought to sleep out, and surmised that the rocks might be found much more difficult than they looked. With some reluctance on our part their views were allowed to prevail on the point, and they started off in triumph, promising to return and report when all the necessary preparations for starting should be completed, while we went in to prepare ourselves for the next day by an early dinner. The inn in those days was somewhat rude, and the cuisine was not remarkable save for the extraordinary faculty possessed by the chef for cooking anything that happened to come in his way, and reducing it all to the same level of tastelessness. On the present occasion, however, stimulated, no doubt, by certain critical rebukes, he had determined to surpa.s.s himself. Towards the end of the repast, as we sat chewing some little wooden toothpicks, which were found to have more flavour than anything else placed on the table, we heard the chef cross the yard and go into a certain little outhouse. A few minutes later a subtle and delicate aroma made its way into the apartment, leading us, after a few interrogative sniffs, to get up and close the window. Gradually the savour became more p.r.o.nounced, and one of the party gave expression to his opinion that there was now satisfactory proof of the accuracy of his constant statement that the drains were out of order. Gradually intensifying, the savour a.s.sumed the decided character of a smell, and we looked out of window to see in which direction the cemetery lay. Stronger and stronger grew the perception as steps came mounting up the stairs; the door opened, and all doubt was set at rest as the chef entered, bearing proudly a large cheese. In a moment, to his dismay, he was left undisputed master of the apartment.

(M122)

We left Saas equipped as for a serious expedition. A stout rustic, who was the most preternaturally ugly man I ever saw, led the way; he had a very large mouth and an odd-shaped face, so that he resembled a frog with a skewer wedged across inside his cheeks. On his back he bore a bag full of very spiky straw, which the guides said was a mattress. In about an hours time we arrived at a carelessly built chalet on the Almagel Alp, of which the outside was repulsive and the inside revolting. But the experienced mountaineer, on such occasions, is not easily put out, and exhibits very little astonishment at anything he may see, and none at anything that he may smell. The hut consisted of a single apartment, furnished with a fireplace and a bed. The fireplace was situated in the centre of the room; the couch was separated by a dilapidated h.o.a.rding from a shed tenanted by a cow of insatiable appet.i.teindeed, it may have been originally designed as a manger. The bed, which accommodated apparently the family of the tenant, was found on actual measurement to be forty-eight inches in length and twenty in width; nevertheless the two guides packed themselves into it, adopting in their rec.u.mbent position the theory that if you keep your head and your feet warm you are all right. By the flickering gleams of firelight it could be perceived through the smoke that these were the only portions of their frames actually in the bed owing to its excessive shortness; but guides share, with babies in perambulators, a happy faculty of being able to sleep peacefully whatever be the position of their heads.

The dispossessed family of the tenant would not submit, notwithstanding strong remarks, to summary eviction, and watched our proceedings with much interest. It was pointed out to them that curiosity was a vicious quality, that it had been defined as looking over other peoples affairs and overlooking ones own, and that, on the whole, they had better retire, which they did reluctantly, to a little shed in which was a large copper pot with other cheese-making accessories. Apparently they spent the night in scouring the copper pot.

The mattress proved to be so tightly packed that it was easier, on the whole, to lie awake under it than to sleep on the top of it, and less painful. About 4 A.M. one of the guides incautiously moved his head, and having thus disturbed his equilibrium fell heavily on to the floor.

Thereupon he woke up and said it was time to start. We bade a cheerful adieu to our host, who was obtaining such repose as could be got by the process of leaning against the doorpost, and made our way upwards.

On the south side of the Portienhorn a long and rough rocky ridge, preserving a tolerably uniform height, extends as far as the Sonnighorn.

Ultimately the ridge, still running in a southerly direction, curves slightly round to the west up to the Monte Moro, and thus forms the head of the Saas valley. There are several unimportant peaks in this ridge perhaps equally worthy, with the Portienhorn, of a place in literature; but of all the points south of the Weissmies this Portienhorn is perhaps the most considerable, and certainly the most difficult of access. At any rate, we climbed the peak, and this is how we did it.

(M123)

It was clear that the southern ridge was more feasible than the northern one, which drops to a col known as the Zwischbergen Pa.s.s, and then rises again to merge into the ma.s.s of the Weissmies. The whole of the western slope of the Portienhorn is covered by the Rothblatt Glacier, the ice of which is plastered up against its sides. We kept to the left of the termination of this glacier, and after a brief look round turned our steps away from the rock b.u.t.tress forming the northern boundary of the glacier, though we were of opinion that we might by this line ascend the mountain; but we nevertheless selected the southern ridge, on the same principle that the sportsman, perfectly capable of flying across any obstacle, however high, sometimes, out of consideration no doubt for his horse, elects to follow somebody else through a gap. In good time we reached a point about halfway up the side of the mountain, and halted at the upper edge of a sloping patch of snow. It was fortunate that we had ample time to spare, for considerable delay was experienced here. Burgener had become newly possessed of a remarkable knife, which he was perpetually taking out of his pocket and admiring fondly; in fact, it provided material for conversation to the guides for the whole day. The knife was an intricate article, and strikingly useless, being weak in the joints; but nevertheless Burgener was vastly proud of the weapon, and valued it as much as an ugly man does a compliment. In the middle of breakfast the treasure suddenly slipped out of his hand, and started off down the slope.

With a yell of anguish he bounded off after it, and went down the rocks in a manner and at a pace that only a guide in a state of excitement can exhibit. The incident was trivial, but it impressed on me the extraordinary powers of sure-footedness and quickness on rocks that a good guide possesses. An amateur might have climbed after these men the whole day, and have thought that he was nearly as good as they, but he could no more have gone down a couple of hundred feet as this guide did without committing suicide, than he could have performed a double-three backwards the first time he put on skates. He might, indeed, have gone backwards, but he would not have achieved his double-three. Turning northwards the moment we were on the arte, we made our way, with a good deal of scrambling, upwards. The rocks were firm and good, and, being dry, gave no great difficulty. Still they were far from easy, and now and again there were short pa.s.sages sufficiently troublesome to yield the needed charm to a mountain climb, difficult enough at any rate to make us leave our axes behind and move one at a time. But how have the times altered since our expedition was made! Nowadays such a climb would be more fitly mentioned casually after dinner as a nice little walk before church, a capital after-breakfast scramble, a stroll strongly recommended to persons of an obese habit, and so forth. Nevertheless, there is a very distinct pleasure in climbing up a peak of this sortgreater, perhaps, than may be found on many of the more highly rated, formidable, and, if the truth be told, fas.h.i.+onable mountains; for the expedition was throughout interesting, and the contrast between the view to the west where the Mischabelhrner reared up their ma.s.sive forms, and to the east looking towards Domo dOssola and the Italian lake district, was one to repay a climber who has eyes as well as limbs. The crest was in places tolerably sharp, and we were forced at times to adopt the expedient, conventionally supposed to be the only safe one in such cases, of bestriding the rock edge. It should be stated, however, that, as usual on such occasions, when we desired to progress we discarded this position, and made our way onwards in the graceful att.i.tude observed at the seaside in those who are hunting on the sand for marine specimens. And thus we arrived ultimately at the top, where we gave way to a properly regulated amount of subdued enthusiasm, proportionate to the difficulty and height of the vanquished mountain. No trace of previous travellers could be found on the summit. It was a maiden ascent. Doubtless the mythical and ubiquitous chamois-hunter had been up before us, for at the time I write of the district was noted for chamois; but even if he had, it makes no difference. We have found it long since necessary to look upon ascents stated to have been made by chamois-hunters as counting for nothing, and in the dearth of new peaks in the Alps, have to resort to strange devices and strained ideas for novelty. Thus, a mountain in the present day can be the means of bringing glory and honour to many climbers. For instance:

A climbs it First ascent.