“As we approached the ice-fall which gives access to the Glacier de Seilon, there occurred the sad accident which cost Louis his life, depriving us of an old and tried companion, and the Valais of one of its best guides. We were running down and across the glacier when the leading three came to a small depression and ridge running straight down the slope parallel to the sides of the glacier, evidently a crevasse bridged over by snow. The first two crossed safely, but apparently loosened the snow, which gave way under Louis. He fell back into the crevasse which was about 8 feet across, and as the rope tightened, it snapped, and he was gone. Basile was running on to the bridged crevasse a little higher up, at the same moment, but although it gave under him, his pace carried him over, and he fell clear. Abbet was just behind Louis and saved himself by throwing himself down.”
ON THE STOCKJÉ, LOOKING EAST.
To face p. 238.
Mr. Moore next gives a sketch of the crevasse and of the position of each in relation to it. Then he continues: “This journal is no place to describe the half-hour which followed, the memory of which is only too fresh for those who were present. It is enough to say that we could not reach Louis with 130 feet of rope, and had to tear ourselves away. It was a great relief to know from subsequent examination that, although we had heard him answer for about five minutes, he could not have lived longer, and in all probability felt nothing. The search party of guides that went up next day found the body 160 feet down, and as we had only 80 feet of reliable rope, we could have done nothing.”
The sketch shows—and its accuracy cannot be doubted—that Messrs. Moore and Parkin were keeping a course that led them past the crevasse without touching it; that Basile Theytaz showed less discretion, and escaped because, being unroped, he came singly on the bridge, in a place where the crevasse was narrower and when he was sufficiently under weigh. Abbet escaped simply because he approached the crevasse in the wake of Louis Theytaz, and took warning in time, for he was about to cross the gulf at its widest.
One may say—in all kindness and with every sympathy—that the roped party which met with the accident was badly led, and one may say so the more confidently, as the leader seems to have been fully aware that he was heading for a formidable crevasse.
When planning my traverse from Bourg St. Pierre to Zermatt, I had it in my mind that an expedition across the Pennine Alps from end to end would not be complete, unless I pushed on over the Mischabel and Weissmies ranges to the Simplon pass, beyond which begin the Lepontine Alps.
The weather was so fine and our powers of endurance had been so slightly taxed that we might easily have pushed on. In fact, in respect of weather, circumstances remained so favourable that we might have continued till the end of February without experiencing a check. The weather report was so perpetually: Still and warm in the High Alps.