We preferred to push into shore on our skiffs and to parley. The old man declared he had come up to say the weather was bad. We looked round. Did appearances give him the lie? Kurz was sure they did. More cautious, because nearer the age of the old salt, I thought they might; but both boys promptly agreed with their father and the dog wagged its tail approvingly.
Kurz and myself began by making sure of the provisions. Then, by a few judiciously applied biscuits, we won the favour of the dog. Then we said that, rather than come down at such an early hour, we should spend the day in runs on the glacier, whereupon Victor Marti felt it would be his duty to do likewise. Ernest, in his turn, did not see why he should not spend, in our agreeable company, a day that was so young. The father winced, but consented.
Then I thought the juncture had come when I might propose to both young men to take full advantage of our new supplies of victuals and drink by spending another night on the heights. The family met again to “sit” upon the suggestion. Meanwhile I liberally paid old Marti for his trouble and took him apart to tell him that if the weather was really bad on the morrow, I should send his boys down. This arrow hit the mark. He was a perfectly honourable old man, true to the core. Turning to his sons, he told them that on no account were they to come back home without their “gentlemen.” I hope, for his comfort, that he realised that the “gentlemen” would not either consent to be seen again in the valley without his boys.
Anyhow, we spent a delightful day in ski-ing in the precincts of the Synagogue, repaired at night to our hut, slipped through the window, and spent a night free from molestation. I deemed that it would be wise to let the sun rise before we did. When it did, it shone with wonderful grace and power. The mists were scattered out of the sky and the cobwebs cleared away from our brains. We entered upon the trip which is described in the next chapter, and during which my excellent young friends pushed on steadily to Kandersteg, our goal, longing all the time for the sight of the telegraph poles on which hung the wires which would convey to their mother the message of their safety.
CHAPTER III
FROM THE COL DU PILLON TO THE GEMMI PASS (DIABLERETS, WILDHORN, WILDSTRUBEL, AND KANDERSTEG).
The range—Ski-runners’ logic—Itinerary—The Plan des Roses—Untoward experiences on the Rawyl pass—Death through exposure—The Daily Mail and Mr. Arnold Lunn’s feat—House-breaking—On the Gemmi—Perspective and levels—Relief models of the Alps—My smoking den—Old Egger.
