Part 14 (1/2)

My reverie was interrupted by Croz observing that it was time to be off.

Less than two hours sufficed to take us to the glacier plateau below (where we had left our baggage); three quarters of an hour more placed us upon the depression between the Grand Cornier and the Dent Blanche (Col du Grand Cornier(165)), and at 6 P.M. we arrived at Abricolla. Croz and Biener hankered after milk, and descended to a village lower down the valley; but Almer and I stayed where we were, and pa.s.sed a chilly night on some planks in a half-burnt chalet.(166)

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ASCENT OF THE DENT BLANCHE.

”G.o.d help thee, Trav'ller, on thy journey far; The wind is bitter keen,-the snow o'erlays The hidden pits, and dang'rous hollow-ways, And darkness will involve thee.-No kind star To-night will guide thee.”...

H. KIRKE WHITE.

Croz and Biener did not return until past 5 A.M. on June 17, and we then set out at once for Zermatt, intending to cross the Col d'Herens. But we did not proceed far before the attractions of the Dent Blanche were felt to be irresistible, and we turned aside up the steep lateral glacier which descends along its south-western face.

The Dent Blanche is a mountain that is little known except to the climbing fraternity. It was, and is, reputed to be one of the most difficult mountains in the Alps. Many attempts were made to scale it before its ascent was accomplished. Even Leslie Stephen himself, fleetest of foot of the whole Alpine brotherhood, once upon a time returned discomfited from it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LESLIE STEPHEN.]

It was not climbed until 1862; but in that year Mr. T. S. Kennedy, with Mr. Wigram, and the guides Jean B. Croz(167) and Kronig, managed to conquer it. They had a hard fight though before they gained the victory; a furious wind and driving snow, added to the natural difficulties, nearly turned the scale against them.(168)

Mr. Kennedy started from Abricolla between 2 and 3 A.M. on July 18, 1862, and ascending the glacier that is mentioned in the opening paragraph, went towards the point marked 3912 metres upon the map;(169) then turned to the left (that is, to the north), and completed the ascent by the southern ridge-that which overhangs the western side of the Schonbuhl glacier.

Mr. Kennedy described his expedition in a very interesting paper in the _Alpine Journal_. His account bore the impress of truth; yet unbelievers said that it was impossible to have told (in weather such as was experienced) whether the summit had actually been attained, and sometimes roundly a.s.serted that the mountain, as the saying is, still remained virgin.

I did not share these doubts, although they influenced me to make the ascent. I thought it might be possible to find an easier route than that taken by Mr. Kennedy, and that if we succeeded in discovering one we should be able at once to refute his traducers, and to vaunt our superior wisdom. Actuated by these elevated motives, I halted my little army at the foot of the glacier, and inquired, ”Which is best for us to do?-to ascend the Dent Blanche, or to cross to Zermatt?” They answered, with befitting solemnity, ”We think Dent Blanche is best.”

From the chalets of Abricolla the south-west face of the Dent Blanche is regarded almost exactly in profile. From thence it is seen that the angle of the face scarcely exceeds thirty degrees, and after observing this I concluded that the face would, in all probability, give an easier path to the summit than the crest of the very jagged ridge which was followed by Mr. Kennedy.

We zigzagged up the glacier along the foot of the face, and looked for a way on to it. We looked for some time in vain, for a mighty _bergschrund_ effectually prevented approach, and, like a fortress' moat, protected the wall from a.s.sault. We went up and up, until, I suppose, we were not more than a thousand feet below the point marked 3912 metres; then a bridge was discovered, and we dropped down on hands and knees to cross it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BERGSCHRUND ON THE DENT BLANCHE IN 1865]

A bergschrund, it was said on p. 182, is a schrund, and something more than a schrund. A schrund is simply a big creva.s.se. A bergschrund is frequently, although not always, a big creva.s.se. The term is applied to the last of the creva.s.ses that one finds, in ascending, before quitting the glacier, and taking to the rocks which bound it. It is the mountains'

schrund. Sometimes it is _very_ large, but early in the season (that is to say in the month of June or before) bergschrunds are usually snowed up, or well bridged over, and do not give much trouble. Later in the year, say in August, they are frequently very great hindrances, and occasionally are completely impa.s.sable.

They are lines of rupture consequent upon unequal motion. The glaciers below move quicker than the snow or ice which clings immediately to the mountains; hence these fissures result. The slower motion of that which is above can only be attributed to its having to sustain greater friction; for the rule is that the upper portion is set at a steeper angle than the lower. As that is the case, we should expect that the upper portion would move _quicker_ than the lower, and it would do so, doubtless, but for the r.e.t.a.r.dation of the rocks over which, and through which, it pa.s.ses.(170)

We crossed the bergschrund of the Dent Blanche, I suppose, at a height of about 12,000 feet above the level of the sea. Our work may be said to have commenced at that point. The face, although not steep in its general inclination, was so cut up by little ridges and cliffs, and so seamed with incipient couloirs, that it had all the difficulty of a much more precipitous slope. The difficulties were never great, but they were numerous, and made a very respectable total when put together. We pa.s.sed the bergschrund soon after nine in the morning, and during the next eleven hours halted only five-and-forty minutes. The whole of the remainder of the time was occupied in ascending and descending the 2400 feet which compose this south-western face; and inasmuch as 1000 feet per hour (taking the mean of ascent and descent) is an ordinary rate of progression, it is tolerably certain that the Dent Blanche is a mountain of exceptional difficulty.

The hindrances opposed to us by the mountain itself were, however, as nothing compared with the atmospheric obstructions. It is true there was plenty of, ”Are you fast, Almer?” ”Yes.” ”Go ahead, Biener.” Biener, made secure, cried, ”Come on, sir,” and _Monsieur_ endeavoured. ”No, no,” said Almer, ”not there,-_here_,”-pointing with his baton to the right place to clutch. Then 'twas Croz's turn, and we all drew in the rope as the great man followed. ”Forwards” once more-and so on.

Five hundred feet of this kind of work had been accomplished when we were saluted (not entirely unexpectedly) by the first gust of a hurricane which was raging above. The day was a lovely one for dwellers in the valleys, but we had, long ago, noted some light, gossamer clouds, that were hovering round our summit, being drawn out in a suspicious manner into long, silky threads. Croz, indeed, prophesied before we had crossed the schrund, that we should be beaten by the wind, and had advised that we should return. But I had retorted, ”No, my good Croz, you said just now 'Dent Blanche is best'; we must go up the Dent Blanche.”

I have a very lively and disagreeable recollection of this wind. Upon the outskirts of the disturbed region it was only felt occasionally. It then seemed to make rushes at one particular man, and when it had discomfited him, it whisked itself away to some far-off spot, only to return, presently, in greater force than before.