“In that supreme moment all our toils and dangers were forgotten in the blissful consciousness of success, and the thrill of exultation that ran through me, as I stood, in my turn, on the very highest point of the higher pinnacle—a little peak of rock with a cap of snow—was cheaply purchased by what we had gone through. Close to us was a precisely similar point, of much the same height, which scarcely came up to the rank of a second summit. It could have been reached in a few seconds from our position, but, as our point was actually the higher of the two, and was also more convenient for sitting down, we remained where we were. I must confess to a total inability to describe the wonderful panorama that lay extended before us. I am not one of those happily constituted individuals who, after many hours of excitement, can calmly sit on the apex of a mountain, and discuss simultaneously cold chicken and points of topography. I am not ashamed to confess that I was far too excited to study, as I ought to have done, the details of a view which, for extent and variety, is altogether without a parallel in my Alpine experience. Suffice it to say that over the whole sky there was not one single cloud, and that we were sitting on the most elevated summit south of Mont Blanc, and it may fairly be left to the imagination to conceive what we saw, as, at an elevation of 13,462 feet, we basked in the sun, without the cold wind usually attendant at these heights. There was not a breath of air, and the flame of a candle would have burnt steadily without a flicker. In our immediate neighbourhood, after the range of the Pelvoux, before described, the most striking object was the great wall of the Meije, the western summit of which, from here, came out distinctly the highest. The Aiguilles d’Arves stood out exceedingly well, and, although 2000 feet lower than our position, looked amazingly high. Almost the only trace of civilisation we could distinctly make out was the Lautaret road, a portion of which, probably near the entrance of the valley leading to the Glacier d’Arsines, was plainly visible. On the side of the mountain towards La Bérarde, what principally struck us was a very great and extensive glacier, apparently not marked on the map, which appeared to be an arm of the Glacier du Vallon, but far more considerable itself than the whole glacier is depicted on the French map. Of the extent of the view, and the wonderfully favourable condition of the atmosphere, a fair idea may be gained from the fact that we clearly identified the forms and ridges of the Matterhorn and Weisshorn, the latter at a distance of 120 miles, as the crow flies, and that those were by no means the most distant objects visible.
