So the next morning we walked up to the Pierre Pointue as a preliminary step—a good many and rather arduous steps—towards the object in view. The exertion of toiling up the zigzags or the more rarefied atmosphere had a remarkable effect on one of the party, whose face when we reached the chalet was found to be wreathed in smiles and wearing an expression of great intelligence. He had in fact become possessed of an idea. Bubbling over with self-satisfied chuckles, he suggested that we should ascend the Aiguille du Midi by the face directly in front of us and then descend on the other side, thus making a col of the mountain. The idea found favour instantly, and the intelligent person was so much pleased that he ordered a bottle of wine, plastered over with a very costly variety of label, and regretted it. Investigation of the cellar revealed only two casks of wine, but the “carte” comprised a long list of various vintages. Fired with enthusiasm and inflated with limonade gazeuse, we left the chalet and strode vigorously up the hill in order to prospect the route and reconnoitre the rocks. The exertion and the pace soon told upon us, the sooner that it was a hot, enervating day; the kind of day that makes one perforce admire the [pg 144]ingenious benevolence of nature in fashioning out on the grassy slopes rounded inequalities, exactly adapted to those of the human figure in a seated or recumbent position. The heated air rising from the ground gave flickering and distorted views of distant objects, like unto marine phenomena viewed through the cheap panes of a seaside lodging-house window. The grasshoppers were extraordinarily busy; the bees droned through the heavy air; the ants, overcome apparently by the temperature, had given up for the time straining their jaws by their foolish practice of carrying large parcels about without any definite object, and had retired to the shady seclusion of their own heaped-up residences; the turf was most inviting. It now occurred to us that there was no absolute necessity for the whole party to ascend on the present occasion, and that perhaps the guides might go up quicker alone. The details of this suggestion were acceded to on the part of the amateurs of the party with astonishing alacrity and unanimity. We laid the scheme before the guides, and they also thought it a very fine one. Thereupon, with much parade and ceremony, they braced themselves up for great exertion, borrowed the telescope, remarked that they expected to be back some time during the night, and started upwards with somewhat over-acted eagerness. My companion and I disposed ourselves comfortably in the shade, and resumed an argument which had [pg 145]originally commenced some days previously. I waxed eloquent on the subject under discussion and with much success, for such was the force of my logic and the cogency of my reasoning that I bore down on my opponent, and reduced him in a short time to absolute silence, from which he did not awake for nearly two hours.
Ephemeral acquaintances
About this time the guides, who in all probability had also been comfortably asleep within a short distance of us, returned and gave a favourable report concerning the mountain. Elated by this news, we climbed a short distance further up, and met there a large party of ephemeral acquaintances who were taking an afternoon’s pleasure on the hills. After the manner of people when so engaged, they set forth with great energy and climbed up a steep little rock tump a few hundred yards distant. Arrived at the summit, they roared out unintelligible remarks to us, and we did the same to them till we were hoarse; we waved our hands and hats and they flourished their handkerchiefs as if they were our dearest friends on earth, just setting out on an emigrant ship for the Antipodes. The party then descended; the nearer they came the less friendly and demonstrative were we, and by the time we met the warmth of affection recently manifested on both sides had wholly evaporated, and we conversed in ordinary tones on indifferent topics. Then they set out for another little hill, [pg 146]and we were moved, apparently by some uncontrollable impulse, to go through the same idiotic performance. Emotional behaviour of a similar kind is not infrequently observed in the mountains. We journeyed together back to the Pierre Pointue, viewing each other with distrust and suspicion; and when it was found that we had bespoken the beds—if the exaggerated packing-cases lined with straw bags could be considered such—we parted on terms the reverse of friendly. So frail are the links that bind human affections.
A familiar character
Standing in front of the hut was a type of character very familiar in these tourist-frequented districts. His exterior was unpromising; his beard of a fortnight’s growth, or thereabouts, somewhat fitful withal and lacking in uniformity of development. A hard hat, with a shining green veil folded around its battered outline, decorated his head; his raiment was black and rusty, his legs cased in canvas gaiters fastened with many little girths and buckles, and in his right hand he grasped a trusty three-franc pole made of wainy deal, and surmounted at the top by a brown knob similar to those which come out suddenly when we try to open a chest of drawers in a cheap lodging. He fidgeted about for a while, asked questions in a rather loud tone of voice at us, and we felt that it was his intention to enter into conversation. It was even so. After a while he sidled up and [pg 147]requested with much diffidence to be informed what we proposed to climb on the morrow. Now the true mountaineer, however amiable his disposition, always shrinks up into his shell when such a question is put to him on the eve of an expedition. My companion indicated by a sweep of the arm a space of territory extending about from the Mont Buet on the one side round to the Aiguille de Gouté on the other. Our friend surveyed from end to end the extensive panorama suggested, then looked seriously at us and observed that we should probably find it a fine walk. We expressed gravely the opinion that he was quite right, and then went in to dinner, while our composite friend expatiated on the project to his companions as an expedition but little out of the ordinary run, and one that he was perfectly prepared to undertake himself if so disposed; then he resumed his contemplation of a rock some ninety feet or so in height jutting out through the glacier above, which he was under the impression was a lady descending from Mont Blanc. We did not learn his name, but the individual may, nevertheless, possibly be recognised. Some points of the argument were still unsettled when we climbed over the edges of our respective boxes and vanished into the strawy depths below. The clear moonlight streamed in through the window and prevented sleep; so I lay in my wooden box thinking over the recent discussion, but with such a distinct intention—[pg 148]like little Paul Dombey with Mrs. Pipchin—of fixing my companion presently, that even that hardy old mountaineer deemed it prudent to counterfeit slumber.
In the small hours of the morning we got under weigh. For some time we had been leading a life of sloth in Chamouni, and the delight of finding ourselves once more on the mountain path, and making for a rock climb, entirely precluded that fractiousness which, as all readers of Alpine literature know, ought properly to be described at this period of an expedition. The path was irregular and demanded some equanimity, for the stumbling-blocks were innumerable and artfully placed to trip up the unwary in an aggravating manner. Feeling it unfair that all the work should be thrown on the guides, I had volunteered, rather magnanimously, to bear part of the burden, and selected the lantern as my share. By this means it was not only possible to walk in comfort over a well-lighted track, but the bearer was enabled also to regulate the pace to a speed convenient to his own feelings. Before long, however, we reached the lower snow patches of the Glacier des Pélèrins, and the light was no longer necessary.
Halting doubts and fears
We made straight across the crisp snow to the base of a promising-looking rock buttress lying to the right of the snow gully that runs up the side of the mountain, feeling sure that either by the rocks or the snow a [pg 149]way up could be found. And now I am painfully conscious of a glaring defect in this Alpine narrative. A mountain ascent without a bergschrund is as tame as a steeplechase without a water jump, but candour compels the admission that no bergschrund was visible. Either we had hit on a spot where the orthodox chasm was filled up for the time, or else this particular glacier was an exception to all others previously treated of in mountain literature. In a few seconds we found ourselves on the rocks, delighted to exchange the monotonous mode of progression compulsory on snow for the varied gymnastic exercises demanded on rocks. The sun had risen, the axes clanked merrily against the stones, the snow was in good condition for walking, everything seemed favourable, and we gazed down complacently on the distance already traversed. Above us the mountain was broken up and easy, and we climbed on rapidly, each in the fashion that seemed best to him. So good was our progress at first, that we were already far up the buttress, and could barely see our morning’s tracks in the snow beneath, when a halt was called for breakfast, and we had time to look around. Now, however unconventional this expedition may have been in many respects, the sagacious student of Alpine literature will know that it must be wholly impossible to omit all reference to the weather. As soon might one expect two prosaic persons of slight acquaintanceship to abjure the topic at a chance [pg 150]meeting. The western sky wore a rather ominous look of half mourning, and heavy grey and black clouds were whirling about and forming up in close order in a manner suggestive of rising wind. Even at this stage of the proceedings the thought crossed our minds that the storm which was evidently brewing might possibly overtake us, and that perhaps we ought at once to turn back.
The storm gathers
One thing was evident; that we must decide quickly, whatever we did. We determined to push on for a while, and with that intent girded ourselves with the rope and worked our way on to the top of the first buttress. At this point, further progress directly upwards was impossible, and we were compelled to cross the gully and make for the rock on the left-hand side. Considerable care is always necessary in crossing, horizontally, a gully filled with snow, where the rope is rather a source of danger than of security. We had to give all our attention to the passage, and when we reached the rocks opposite, the climbing, though not formidable, was still sufficiently difficult to occupy all our thoughts for the moment, and we had but little leisure, and perhaps but little inclination, for meteorological observations. At the top of the rocks a promising snow slope, stretching upwards with gentle curves and sweeps, seemed to offer a fair prospect of rapid progress. Such snow slopes are at all times a little [pg 151]deceptive. Even when the climber is close to them they look oftentimes much easier than they immediately after prove to be. From a distance, say from under the verandah of a comfortable hotel, when the climber in posse indicates the way he would pursue with the end of his cigar, they are absurdly easy. So, too, are obstacles in the hunting-field, such as stiff hedges and uncompromising gates, easy enough when the Nimrod studies them as he whirls along in an express train. Subsequently, when immediately associated with a horse, these same obstacles assume a different guise. Then are the sentiments of the hunter prone to become modified, and compassion for dumb beasts becomes more prominent in the thoughtful votary of the chase, till finally it may be observed that the little wits jump sometimes more than the great ones. Even so does the mountaineer often discover, on a nearer acquaintance that the snow incline up which he proposed to stride merrily is inclined at a highly inconvenient angle. However, at the commencement of our slope we found the snow in good condition, and advanced quickly for some little distance, but before we had got very far it was necessary to resort to the axe, and we had then ample opportunities of looking round. The clouds were lowering more and more, but as they were swept up by a sou’westerly wind, the intervening mass of the mountain prevented us from seeing thoroughly what might be in store for us. [pg 152]The wind, too, was growing stronger every minute, and my companion, who was still pursuing his argument, and, as it appeared subsequently, making some rather good points, had to exert himself considerably in order to make his voice heard.