[1] “The Pioneers of the Alps,” by C. D. Cunningham and Captain Abney, F.R.S., published by Messrs. Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington.
[2] “High Life and Towers of Silence,” by Mrs. Main, published by Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington.
CHAPTER II. THE CAUTION AND DETERMINATION OF GUIDES.
Amongst the qualities required in a first-class guide, I am inclined to rank caution as the chief. Many other characteristics are also necessary, such as a strong will, enabling the guide to compel those in his care to obey him; dash and courage, by which he overcomes obstacles; skill in climbing, as well as in forming an opinion of the condition of snow; ability in finding his way up or down a mountain, whether he has ever previously ascended it or not; coolness in moments of danger, promptness of action in a sudden emergency, resource in difficulties of whatever nature that may arise; strength of muscle, sound health, good temper, unselfishness, honesty, and great experience. What a catalogue! And yet I do not know one guide of the first order who does not possess something of all, and a large amount of several, of the many qualities which I have enumerated above, to say nothing of others which I have doubtless overlooked.
I should like first to tell you of some instances where guides have displayed a praiseworthy caution under strong inducement to overstep the bounds of prudence. One example, which I extract from “The Pioneers of the Alps,” that mine of information on guide-lore, is very characteristic of the great guide Melchior Anderegg. Mr. Mathews writes: “He knows when it is right to go on, and when it is the truest bravery to turn back. ‘Es geht, Melchior,’ said a fine climber once in my hearing when we came to a dangerous spot. ‘Ja,’ replied Melchior, ‘es geht, aber ich gehe nicht;’ or, in other words, ‘It goes, but I do not go.’”
Edouard Cupelin of Chamonix, a guide with whom in former years I made many ascents, has frequently shown me that he possesses his right and proper share of this brave caution. Once in winter, when within an hour of the summit of Mont Blanc, he made us turn back, considering the danger of persisting in the face of a snow-storm unjustifiable, though the difficulties were all behind us. Once, too, I had hankerings after the Schreckhorn on a windy morning in October, but my guide reminded us of what the action of the storm on the friable rocks below the Saddle was likely to be, and refused to have anything to do with the peak, which showed up every now and then in a tantalising way against a patch of blue sky.
But the caution of a good guide does not need to be proved by any collection of anecdotes. It is seen every time he prods for the hidden crevasse in crossing a snow-field. It is noticeable whenever he begs his companions (probably for the tenth time at least that day) to keep the rope taut. It is shown when he refuses to take a self-opinionated amateur up a difficult mountain in bad weather, or to allow the amateur’s friend, attired in tennis-flannels, to join the expedition at the last moment, because “’Pon my word, I must do the Matterhorn some time or another, you know!”