As soon as the lower slopes are reached, one man should go off for assistance (two, if possible, when glaciers are in question); and meanwhile a stretcher can be made of cross-linked rope, or of boughs or axes combined with rope. It is well to remember that carrying a stretcher over rough ground is exhausting work, and not to spare men in the rescue party. With a heavy man rapid shifts are necessary, and twelve men have been found barely sufficient to bring down a heavy man with a broken leg, in the dark, over some hours of broken ground. If the ground is too steep for a stretcher, and too broken for lowering on a slide, it is best to use a blanket or a web of rope; upon this the man can be lowered sideways, stage by stage, the men on the under side holding up their edge so as to keep the lie level. If the ground allows of the stretcher being carried freely, but is still inclined, one or, better, two men should act as a brake behind, pulling back on a rope attached to the stretcher. During the descent, one man familiar with the ground should be sent ahead to select the easiest line. A carriage or car should be brought to the nearest point of the road or track. The surgeon should have been already sent for by any available car or horse.
If it is impracticable to get the man down until the rescue party arrives, by reason of the difficulty of the climbing or the weakness of the party, one man at least must stay with him, and the other, or more happily two others, must make all speed consistent with caution to get assistance. An injured man must never be left alone. If the descent is severe, the two most capable should descend; and they must remember that even more depends upon their getting down safely than upon their getting down quickly, and resist the insidious recklessness and ‘it-can’t-be-worse’ spirit that affect the nerves of all men at such times.
A code of signals, of shouts and lights, should be arranged, if not already known. This is most important, and often forgotten. It is wonderfully cheering to hear the human voice. Nothing serves better to sustain the spirits and keep off dangerous lethargy or collapse than the shouts which let the waiting men know that their friends are safely down, and help assured, or which hearten them on the return long before the rescue party can reach them.
With the same object, if the rescue party cannot start at once, lights should be flashed at night from some point in the valley visible to the waiting men. A single match is visible for miles.
The simplest code of call for help is six shouts or flashes in the minute, followed by an interval of a minute’s silence. The reply, signifying the call is heard and understood, is three shouts or flashes in the minute, with a minute’s pause. But men do well to arrange, and write down, a fuller code of communication before they divide on such occasions.
Rescue parties, of guides or local people, are often slow in getting under way. If they find they cannot get a sufficiently strong party together at once, the friends or, if possible, some good substitutes, should form an express advance party, taking the few first necessaries and making the best pace they can. Of even more effect than their physical restoratives will be the moral reassurance they bring that the real rescue party is under way. Waiting and uncertainty materially lower the nervous resistance to injury or exposure. The men most concerned should not leave the dispatch and direction of the main rescue party to the professionals or the local people alone, who will always claim it as their business and, more from ignorance than lack of sympathy, often treat it as a function to be lingered over and discussed in all its details. Not infrequently in the Alps the first men to volunteer will be the idle and unemployed, and therefore the least competent. The officious local man, who may be only concerned to see his name in print and get credit and shillings, is particularly to be guarded against. Unless some first-rate men can be at once secured, or another amateur be found to take charge, one of the original party must stay behind to take command himself, and send his friend, with the best auxiliaries available, to conduct the first party of reassurance.
It seems advisable to mention these details, as the natural inclination of men who have been shaken by an accident and by anxiety is to yield to well-meant pressure and leave the ‘speeding up’ of the often dilatory rescue column to the local hotel-keeper or the first discoverable guide; only concerned themselves, if they are fit, to hasten back with reassurance to their waiting friends. But, of the two, the first is the more urgent duty.
In the event of death and not injury swift action is of less importance. The mountaineer’s difficult task is then to get the rest of his crippled party down safely. Peasants of all lands, accustomed to the accidents of life and death, are insensitive to anything but their familiar realism. Their help may be counted upon, but they cannot be expected to show a very understanding sympathy. No later operation should therefore be left to their charge without the supervision of one of the party, or of a friend. The Press may be expected to become for the time an extra burden; its curiosity is better eluded by carefully worded anticipation than left to its own sensational inventiveness. Violent death is savage in its reactions; and manners and taste, which survive only as a thin glaze upon our semi-civilized communities, evaporate at its first rumour.
Although I have thought it right not to exclude entirely some suggestion as to dealing with cases of serious or fatal accident, forty-eight out of fifty mountaineers may, and do, finish their career without ever being actively concerned in one.