The third type of mountain structure which may lead one into the wrong valley is what may be called “The Double Col.” It is damnably common and a good example of it will be found in the track I describe later on in this book when I speak of the short cut from the Ariège Valley into the Roussillon.
The accompanying sketch will explain the character of this sort of tangle, and it is most important that anyone unacquainted with these mountains and wishing to learn them should seize it thoroughly, for it is the worst of all the lures that get a man astray.
Observe carefully the numerous contours on [the sketch map overleaf]. They are numerous because it is necessary to show the minute details of such a case. I will suppose them to be about 50 feet apart. The traveller is coming up the valley marked V, the floor of which is marked in black upon the sketch, and the apex of which is, let us say, 6000 feet above the sea; he climbs the last little slope of 250 feet and reaches the col at C, which is 6250 feet above the sea. On this saddle he has upon either side of him precipitous slopes, which lead up to two summits of mountains upon the right and the left, the one towards A, the other towards B. Right in front of him opens another valley corresponding apparently to the valley V from which he has come, and which we will call W. The floor of this also is marked in black upon the sketch. It will be observed from the contour lines that the descent on to W is easy, though the walls bounding it on either side become increasingly precipitous as one proceeds.
Hidden from him by rising ground upon the right, as he stands at C, there is yet another valley, the floor of which is also given in black. This valley we will call Y, and it is this valley which leads the traveller towards his object; valley W only gets him deeper into the wilderness. Both valleys W and Y, are so precipitous that once engaged in either of them one is caught and compelled to pursue them for many miles. It is evident that on a very large scale map such as this, and with full contour lines giving every few feet of height, the traveller would make no error. Once at C he would go up to the right around the base of mountain B, rising continually until, somewhat under 6500 feet, he came to the second col, D, which would bring him down into valley Y.
But consider how this corner would look upon an ordinary small scale map!
The whole distance from the apex of valley V to the apex of valley Y is not half a mile. It would occupy little more than a quarter of an inch upon your French map. The general trend and nature of the valleys, which the traveller shut in by high mountains cannot grasp, would seem obvious upon such a map and he would take it for granted that he could make no error and that the passage marked from V to Y would be perfectly plain sailing. It would never occur to him that he could be trapped into the little ravine W leading nowhere and in no way connected with his journey.
The map would look something like this, perhaps, giving one a perfectly accurate general impression of the whole country-side, but quite useless for the critical point C-D, the difficulties of which nothing but numerous contours and a very large scale can possibly explain. The traveller consults the map, he sees the mountain group whose summits are A, H, and K, with their heights marked, he sees the other mountain group culminating at B with its height also marked, he see the main valley V up the road of which he has proceeded with the town in which he stopped and the river which he has been following. He sees the pass clearly marked at C-D, leading over to the further valley Y with its town, river, and road—and the journey seems to present no difficulties. It is only when he gets actually shut up in the hills at the heads of the valleys that he may begin to doubt or to be misled. On his map he could never believe that the little torrent W going right round out of his direction could take him in, or that he would get into its valley.
