A guide who has not a strong will can never hope to be quite at the top of the tree in his profession. Some guides, however, are, of course, more determined than others.
I remember an amusing tale à propos of this characteristic, which a friend told me of Joseph Imboden. The incident occurred on the Breithorn, an easy though fatiguing snow-peak in the Zermatt district. One cold day, Imboden had a leaden-footed, pig-headed Englishman in tow. This sagacious gentleman, when half-way up the mountain, observed that he was tired, and intended to refresh himself by a snooze on the snow. Imboden naturally objected to the proceeding, explaining that it was extremely dangerous, and drawing vivid word-pictures of ill-starred persons who had been frozen to death. However, the traveller persisted, and finally, in reply to Imboden’s repeated refusals to allow him to carry out his wishes, exclaimed indignantly, “I pay you, and you are my servant, and I shall do as I please!” The situation had become critical. Imboden saw that the time for strong measures had arrived. He said to his Herr, “That is quite true. Now you do as you choose, and I shall do as I choose. You lie down and sleep, and as surely as you do so I shall give you a box on the ear that you won’t easily forget!” “What!” cried the irate tourist; “no! you would not dare!” “Oh, yes,” said Imboden quietly, “and a thoroughly good box on the ear too!” The Herr, in a furious temper, plodded on to the top, and made no further suggestions for repose, but the whole way down he sulked and growled and would not be coaxed into good-humour. However, after dinner at Zermatt and a chat with his friends, things began to look different, and the same evening he sought out his guide, and shaking him by the hand, thanked him warmly for his conduct.
This recalls to my mind another little scene which took place on the same mountain, the account of which I had from an eye-witness. A guide, unknown to fame, but evidently resolute and determined of spirit, was hauling a panting, expostulating German up the snow-slopes between the Col St. Théodule and the Breithorn. When my friend, who was descending, met them, the German was piteously entreating to be taken home, declaring that he was nearly dead and had seen all that he wanted to see. “Why don’t you turn back?” my friend inquired of the guide. “Herr,” said that individual, “er kann gehen, er muss gehen—er hat schon bezahlt!” (Sir, he can go, he must go—he has paid in advance!)
Here is another little tale. Once upon a time a certain well-known guide was taking a traveller up the Weisshorn. The weather was abominable. In addition, the mountain was in very bad order, covered with ice and soft snow. The ascent had been long and tiring, and during the descent the gentleman (whose first season it was), worn-out with fatigue, completely lost his nerve. At last he exclaimed, “I cannot go on, I simply cannot.” “You must,” the guide said. “Indeed, I cannot go one step farther,” the traveller replied. “Sir,” the guide continued, “if we don’t go on we shall be benighted on this ridge and be frozen to death, and that must not happen.” Still the gentleman stood still as though turned to stone. The guide saw that his words had no effect; so making himself firm, he called out to the porter, “Pull down the Herr by his feet.” The wretched Herr feebly glared at the porter, who demurred, saying, “I dare not, he will be so angry; besides, if I did, we should all slip together.” “Very well, come up here, and I will take your place. See to yourself; I will be responsible for the rest,” answered the guide, and he and the porter changed places. Now came the tug of war. Standing near the gentleman, the guide seized him by the collar of his coat and dropped him down a step. This he repeated two or three times, till the traveller, reassured by the firmness of the grasp and the decision of the act, gradually recovered his mental as well as his bodily balance, and before long he was able to help himself.
CHAPTER III. SOME MORE CHARACTERISTICS OF FIRST-RATE GUIDES.
Though it is a platitude to say that all good guides are plucky, yet some are more noted for “dash” than others. The names which at once come to the minds of most persons in connection with this characteristic would probably be those of, in the past, Michel Croz, Jean-Antoine Carrel, Johann Petrus, and a few others, and, in the present, Alexander Burgener, Emile Rey, Christian Jossi, and to mine, Martin Schocher. The three last names but one in my list are well known; that of Martin Schocher is less so. I must here make a slight digression in order to undertake a pleasant duty. In a former work, referred to before, I made some uncomplimentary remarks concerning Engadine guides.[3] Since then, however, Martin Schocher has come to the front, and has gained an amount of experience which no other Pontresina man can pretend to. Few expeditions of first-rate difficulty in the district have been made which were not led by him. On the three first occasions when the formidable ridge between Piz Scerscen and Piz Bernina was traversed, Schocher headed the party. The only time that the central west arête of Piz Palü was taken, he again led; and on the single occasion when Piz Morteratsch was climbed from the saddle between that peak and Piz Prievlusa, the party consisted of Schocher and Mr. Garwood only. Of this ascent Schocher declares that it was the hardest piece of work he ever undertook, consisting as it did of smooth rocky slabs, steeply inclined, and narrowing very often to the merest knife-edge.
During the past autumn Schocher for the first time left his native district, and went to the chief climbing centres of the Alps (the Oberland and Dauphiné excepted). The party were fortunate in their weather, and ascended the Dent Blanche, the Aiguille de la Za, and several other first-class peaks. If Schocher were to travel for another season or two, he would gain enough experience to place him on a par with some of the best men in the Oberland.