Factory of river and of rain,
Link in the Alps' globe-circling chain.
The sense of the sublime excited in us is due not to mere 'extension of space,' but to admiration of the excellence revealed by our larger range of vision. The barren ice-field is seen to water a thousand meadows, the destructive torrent to fertilise a whole province. The evil of the world seems for once contained within the good.
Had Mr. Mill lived a generation later, and wandered upon Tyrolean snows as well as amongst the meadows at their feet,[49] he would probably have hesitated to state so broadly that 'what makes the greater natural phenomena so impressive is simply their vastness,' and that no 'admiration for excellence' enters into the feeling they inspire.
So far (except that we had not crossed over the top of the Corno Bianco) we had followed in the footsteps of Lieut. Payer, who had first conquered the Adamello in the previous year. Henceforth our course lay over unknown ground. The descent from the Adamello snow-fields into Val Camonica had never been attempted, and, from the configuration of the range, was likely to be a matter of difficulty. We had, however, a large space to search over and a choice of several glens to descend into, any one of which would bring us, with more or less circuit, to the great valley. We naturally determined to try first the nearest gap, looking down into the Val Miller and leading directly to Edolo; if that failed we were prepared to go further and force a passage down one of the glaciers falling towards Val Saviore.
Having returned in our old footsteps to the base of the peak, we traversed the snow out of which it rises to its further or south-western foot. On the rock-face overhead I noticed several small ranunculuses in flower at an elevation of 11,500 feet above the sea. A projecting crag on the right of the gap which we had selected as our first point of attack enabled us to reconnoitre what lay below us. We were in a position very much resembling that of the traveller from Zermatt, when he has reached the summit of the Weissthor and gazes down at Macugnaga, except that in our case the valley was not more than 3,500 feet below us. On the other hand, we were on unknown ground and had to trust entirely to our own judgment. That of the guides was prompt and favourable. A nasty tongue of glacier curled over the ridge, but soon broke short from the steepness of the cliff; so long as we gave a wide berth to the stones discharged by this ill-conditioned neighbour they foresaw no impossibilities or dangers ahead. The rocks proved worthy of our estimate. Although steep—quite as steep as those leading up to the Schreckhorn Sattel—they were thoroughly safe, and gave firm foothold on broad shelves and rough ridges. We went on without check, until within a hundred feet of their base we found ourselves apparently cut off from the snow-field below by a smooth cliff. We underwent a few minutes' grim suspense while Michel and François searched right and left for some ledge or crack. But soon the welcome shout of 'es geht' rose to our ears, and we found our escape. Swift glissades followed, and we shot quickly down the slopes of the little glacier which nestles beneath the crags. Nothing now remained but to scramble over the huge boulders to the stream below us and follow its waters until we struck a path. The Val Miller is a wild upland glen, hemmed in by cliffs, above which are seen the twin snow-crests of the Adamello. In an hour from the glacier we reached the only châlets in the upper valley, known as the Casetta di Miller.[50] The rock on which the hut was founded was highly 'moutonnée,' or polished by glacier action, as our scientific companion did not fail to point out. A few moments later he impressed the fact still more forcibly on our memories. A large bowl brimming with delicious milk had been brought out for our refreshment. Either in the excitement of draining it the drinker overbalanced himself, or a perverse barometer chose that moment to swing between his legs. Anyhow,
Δούπησεν δὲ πεσών, ἀράβησε δὲ τεύχε' ἐπ' αὐτῷ.
Down he fell with a thump, and the aneroids rattled about him.
The consequences of the fall were serious: a thick coating of cream, quicksilver and châlet dirt, a bruised knee and—worst of all in the sufferer's mind—several broken instruments.
Opposite the huts we crossed to the left bank of the stream, and followed a cow-path which soon brought us to the verge of the long, abrupt descent separating Val Miller from its continuation the Val di Malga. The path corkscrewed through a gully in quaint little zigzags, built up toilsomely with stones, steep as an attic staircase and odious enough to wind down under a hot afternoon sun. The cows whom we had seen above can scarcely look upon the day of their move for the summer months with the same pleasure which their sisters throughout the Alps are said to exhibit. An English farmer would as soon think of driving his herd to the top of the Monument as up such a place.