We descended from the eminence by a different route; during both ascent and descent I had occasion to admire the courage and caution of my young companion, and the extraordinary cohesive force by which he clung to the rock. He, moreover, evidently felt himself responsible for my safety, and once when I asserted my independence so far as to attempt descending a kind of ‘chimney,’ which, though rather dangerous-looking, I considered to be practicable, he sprang to my side, and, with outstretched arm and ringing voice, exclaimed, ‘Monsieur, je vous défends de passer par là!’
Anxious to avoid the inconvenience of the rules of the Chamouni guides, my aim, from the first, was to render myself as far as possible independent of their assistance. Wishing to explore the slopes of the Col du Géant, not for the purpose of crossing into Piedmont, but to examine the fine ice-sections which it exhibits, and to trace amid its chasms the gradual conversion of the snow into ice, I at first thought of attempting the ascent of the col alone; but ‘le petit Balmat,’ as my host at the Montanvert always named him, acquitted himself so well on the occasion referred to that I thought he would make a suitable companion. On naming the project to him he eagerly embraced my proposal; in fact, he said he was willing to try Mont Blanc with me if I desired it.
On the morning of Friday, July 24, we accordingly set off for the Tacul, I making, as we ascended, such few observations as lay in our way. The sun shone gloriously upon the mountains, and gleamed by reflection from the surface of the glacier. Looked at through a pair of very dark spectacles, the scene was exceedingly striking and instructive. Terraces of snow clung to the mountains, exposing, here and there, high vertical sections, which cast dense shadows upon the adjacent plateaux. The glacier was thrown into heaps and ‘hummocks,’ their tops glistening with white, silvery light, and their sides intensely shaded. When the lateral light was quite shut out, and all that reached the eyes had to pass through the spectacles, the contrast between light and shade was much stronger than when the glacier was viewed by the broad light of day. In fact, the shadows were no longer grey merely, but black; to a similar augmentation of contrast towards the close of the day is to be referred the fact that the ‘Dirt Bands’ of the Mer de Glace are best seen by twilight.
A gentleman had started in the morning to cross the col, accompanied by two strong guides. We met a man returning from the Jardin, who told us that he had seen the party that preceded us; that they had been detained a long time amid the séracs, and that our ascending without ladders was quite out of the question. As we approached the Tacul, my lynx-eyed little companion ranged with the telescope over the snowy slopes of the col, and at length exclaimed, ‘Je les vois, tous les trois!’—the ‘Monsieur’ in the middle, and a guide before and behind. They seemed like three black specks upon the shoulders of the Giant; below them was the vast ice-cascade, resembling the foam of ten Niagaras placed end to end and stiffened into rest, while the travellers seemed to walk upon a floor as smooth as polished Carrara marble. Here and there, however, its uniformity was broken by vertical faults, exposing precipices of the stratified névé.
On an old moraine near the Tacul, piled up centuries ago by the Glacier de Léchaud, immense masses of granite are thrown confusedly together; and one enormous slab is so cast over a number of others as to form a kind of sheltered grotto, which we proposed to make our resting-place for the night. Having deposited our loads here, I proceeded to the icefall of the Talèfre, while my companion set out towards the Couvercle in search of firewood. I walked round the base of the frozen cascade, and climbed up among its riven pinnacles, examining the structure as I ascended. The hollow rumble of the rocks as they fell into the crevasses was incessant. From holes in the ice-cliffs clear cataracts gushed, coming I knew not whence, and going I knew not whither. Sometimes the deep gurgle of sub-glacial water was heard, far down in the ice. The resonance of the water as it fell into shafts struck me suddenly at intervals on turning corners, and seemed, in each case, as if a new torrent had bounded into life. Streams flowed through deep channels which they themselves had worn, revealing beautifully the ‘rib-boned structure.’ At the further end of the Glacier de Léchaud the Capucin Rock stood, like a preacher; and below him a fantastic group of granite pinnacles suggested the idea of a congregation. The outlines of some of the ice-cliffs were also very singular; and it needed but a slight effort of the imagination to people the place with natural sculpture.
At six o’clock the shrill whistle of my companion announced that our time of meeting was come. He had found some wood—dry twigs of rhododendrons, and a couple of heavy stumps of juniper. I shouldered the largest of the latter, while he strapped his twigs on his back, and led the way to the Tacul. The sun shot his oblique rays against us over the heights of Charmoz, and cast our shadows far up the glacier. We filled our saucepan, which Balmat named ‘a machine,’ with clear water, and bore it to our cavern, where the fire was soon crackling under the machine. I was assailed by the smoke, which set my eyes dripping tears; but this cleared away when the fire brightened, and we boiled our chocolate and made a comfortable evening meal.
I afterwards clambered up the moraine to watch the tints of the setting sun; clouds floated round the Aiguille de Charmoz, and were changed from grey to red, and from red to grey, as their positions varied. The shadows of the isolated peaks and pinnacles were drawn, at times, in black bands across the clouds; and the Aiguille du Moine smiled and frowned alternately. One high snow-peak alone enjoyed the unaltered radiance of the sinking day; the sunshine never forsook it, but glowed there, like the steady light of love, while a kind of coquetry was carried on between the atmosphere and the surrounding mountains. The notched summits of the Grande and Petite Jorasse leaned peacefully against the blue firmament. The highest mountain-crags were cleft, in some cases, into fantastic forms; single pillars stood out from all else, like lonely watchers, over the mountain scene; while little red clouds playfully embraced them at intervals, and converted them into pillars of fire.
The sun at length departed, and all became cold and grey upon the mountains; but a brief secondary glow came afterwards, and warmed up the brown cliffs once more. I descended the moraine, the smell of the smoke guiding me towards the rock under which I was to pass the night. A fire was burning at the mouth of the grotto, reddening with its glare the darkness of the interior. Beside the fire sat my little companion, with a tall, conical, red night-cap drawn completely over his ears; our saucepan was bubbling on the fire; he watched it meditatively, adding at times a twig, which sprung immediately into flame, and strengthened the glow upon his countenance. He looked, in fact, more like a demon of the ice-world than a being of ordinary flesh and blood. I had been recommended to take a bit of a tallow candle with me to rub my face with, as a protection against the sun; by the light of this we spread our rugs, lay down upon them, and wrapped them round us.
The countless noises heard upon the glacier during the day were now stilled, and dead silence ruled the ice-world; the roar of an occasional avalanche, however, shooting down the flanks of Mont Mallet broke upon us with startling energy. I did not sleep till towards four o’clock in the morning, when I dozed and dreamed, and mingled my actual condition with my dream. When I awoke, I found my head weary enough upon the clay of the old moraine, my ribs pressed closely against a block of granite, and my feet amid sundry fragments of the same material. It was nearly five o’clock on Saturday the 25th when I arose; my companion quickly followed my example. He also had slept but little, and once or twice during the night I fancied I could feel him shiver. We were, however, well protected from the cold. The high moraine of the Glacier du Léchaud was on one side, that of the Glacier du Géant on the other, while the cliffs of Mont Tacul formed the third side of a triangle, which sheltered us from the sharper action of the wind. At times the calm was perfect, and I felt almost too warm; then again a searching wind would enter the grotto, and cause the skin to shrink on all exposed parts of the body. It had frozen hard, and to obtain water for washing I had to break through a sheet of ice which coated one of the pools upon the glacier.
In a few minutes our juniper fire was crackling cheerily; we made our chocolate and breakfasted. My companion emptied the contents of a small brandy bottle into my flask, which, however, was too small to hold it all, and on the principle, I suppose, of avoiding waste, he drank what remained. It was not much, but sufficient to muddle his brain, and to make him sluggish and drowsy for a time. We put the necessary food in our knapsacks and faced our task, first ascending the Glacier du Tacul along its eastern side, until we came to the base of the séracs.