no difficulty in choosing a place for our temporary camp: we were on a huge plain of spotless snow, in as firm and excellent condition as could be desired. So down went knapsacks, and squatting round them in a ring, we proceeded to breakfast upon part of their contents. The pipe of contemplation followed, during which we leisurely looked over the work before us. How magnificently rose the mountain, still 5,000 feet over our heads, glistening under the deep blue sky, and now of a certainty within our grasp!

The whole party being in very lively spirits, we began to think that as the expedition had commenced with illegality it might as well conclude with irregularity. Why should we go up by the ordinary safety-seeking route of the Corridor, when the long-deserted slopes of the Ancien Passage tempted us to the excitement of following a track which we heard had never been pursued since that day in 1820, when Dr. Hamel's guides were killed in attempting it? What says Cachat to this proposal? He makes a careful observation with the telescope, and then delivers an oracle to the effect that the snow up there, to the right of the Rochers Rouges, is in such good condition that we may try the experiment without fear of avalanches. Any one at all conversant with the general view of Mont Blanc will know that the route we proposed is far more direct to the summit, though considerably steeper than the ordinary one. It was only abandoned in consequence of the danger of avalanches from such a highly inclined slope. Little did we then care for extra steepness; and, with the sage Cachat's opinion against any present danger from the state of the snow, we resolved to go up by the Ancien Passage, and complete the tour by returning down the Mur de la Côte and the Corridor.

The greater part of our provisions were here left behind in knapsacks, only a small store for a treat being taken with us to the summit. We went straight across the Grand Plateau in a line for the mountain, and soon began a steady climb up a slope of firm snow. The inclination was at first moderate, but it soon became steeper, and the comfortable snow was exchanged for so hard a surface that step-cutting was neces sary. Before long, the slope grew steeper, the ice harder; we had to make much deeper steps for safety, and began to think of old saws about the unprofitableness of short cuts. The progress was slow, and hours were passing; still, whenever we raised our heads, there were the same vast blocks of ice about the summit of the Rochers Rouges, looking scarcely nearer or larger than when we had selected them as landmarks from the plain below. At length, however, we approached the base of an enormous buttress of ice which presented a perpendicular wall of glistening blue to the height of nearly 100 feet. We had calculated on being able to pass to the left of this splendid obstacle, and steps were accordingly cut slantingly, with great care, up the surface of a slope which we found with a good instrument to have an inclination of 60°. As the guides, however, knew no more than we did of the route we were taking, it was less surprising than disappointing to find on laboriously reaching the left corner that we were cut off from that side by inaccessible profundities of ice. Meanwhile a severe north wind had been rapidly increasing, and most of us began to feel the bitterness of severe cold in a situation where it was impossible to quicken our movements or to trust our feet out of the steps. Cachat himself seemed particularly suffering and anxious. However, as all progress was cut off on the left, we were compelled to turn to the

right, and he began to make the best of the way. The situation was peculiar, and rather calculated to try the nerves of a man who knew that he was frost-bitten and falling below the mark. He led the way, hoping to warm himself by the hard work of cutting steps horizontally along the base of the wall. We followed him cautiously, all taking the utmost care of the rope; our left shoulders touched the vertical blue ice, while, on our right down went the slope which, beginning at an angle of 60°, swept clean away to the Grand Plateau, nearly 4,000 feet beneath. Presently he turned round to me, and asked for a drop of brandy from my flask. This I gave him, and he cut a few more steps, but he then turned round again and said sorrowfully, 'Je n'en peux plus.'

Payot was next behind me in the line, so he went to the front; but it required all our care and steadiness to untie him from his own place and pass him forward to the front of the discomfited Cachat. Once there, he soon finished the task we passed the obstacle safely with the aid of a few more steps; and, turning its corner, soon reached a moderate slope which brought us to the Petits Mulets, a small rocky point near which our route meets the ordinary one from the Corridor. Here we halted for a while and examined the case of poor Cachat: he took off his boots and stockings and found both his feet completely frost-bitten. He said he could go no farther, but would stay behind on the sheltered side of the rock, and rub his feet with snow while

thermometer at this point, it stood at 12° below freezing point, though it was in a wash-leather case and had been all the morning in the inside breast-pocket of a strong coat buttoned close to my body. Leaving our chief in the snuggest place to be found among the rocks, we pushed upwards, with the comfortable knowledge that we had no further difficulties to contend with, if only we could keep ourselves from being blown away into space. The upper slopes of Mont Blanc are easy enough: we had nothing to do but to go ahead independently of one another, and the wind was our only enemy. My companion had a fur cap with sides to protect his ears and tie under his chin. I tied my wideawake on my head with a handkerchief; and while one hand held the alpenstock, the other was employed to keep my coat, waistcoat, and shirt from the fate of being scattered to the winds. It was useless to speak to one another; even a shout could not be heard easily amid the terrible noise of the wind, roaring over ridgy snow and driving countless pieces of detached ice over its hard and irregular surface. My feet were perfectly insensible by reason of the cold; but, as I was otherwise in such good condition as to feel no difficulty or inconvenience in the ascent, I found that I could dispense with the ordinary use of my alpenstock and turn it to considerable profit in another way. Carrying the friendly pole with the iron point uppermost, I made a vigorous thrust with the wooden end at each foot as it came in turn to the front. This is a device which I recommend with the utmost confidence to those who may find themselves in similar situations. Small changes delight those who suffer from monotony; prisoners love to watch the evolutions of a spider; and so I found a distinct interest in hammering my own feet during the least agreeable

part of the expedition. There was a certain amount of sport in the uncertainty of hitting or missing, and there was much comfort when at length a slightly stinging sensation announced returning life. The only drawback was that a few days afterwards my feet appeared covered with bruises to attest the accuracy of my aim; but amongst communities who are in the habit of wearing shoes and stockings it will be admitted that such a consideration is a trifle light as air.'

In this fashion I steadily pushed up the calotte of the mountain till, lifting my eyes for a moment, I found that no one was in front, no one was near me. Looking back, I was horrified to see my friend some distance below, lying on his back with the guides standing over him. I ran down to him as fast as I could against the wind, and was not a little glad to find that he was only suffering from a sudden fit of that strange vertigo which is occasionally experienced at high altitudes. A few drops of brandy and a few moments' rest completely restored him to his normal strength and activity. We made a vigorous rush, and presently were brought to a standstill by finding that there was nothing more to climb. Our feet were on the summit of Mont Blanc, and our eyes ranged over the plains and mountains of North Italy. An attempt to stand in such a wind on the highest crest of snow would have involved the probability of some of the party being blown over the precipices of the Peteret; so we crept cautiously down a few feet on the southern side, and seated ourselves comfortably on the snow. We were facing the sun, and completely sheltered from the wind. It was peace after the noise and uproar of a battle; a battle waged against the noisiest and most turbulent of the spirits of the air.

Ah! how pleasant it was to pile arms by sticking our alpenstocks

into the snow, to empty the provision-knapsacks, and to sit down upon them with our backs to the sunny side of the dazzling crest! The only casualty was poor Zacharie Cachat, whom we had been obliged to leave far below us, kicking his frozen feet against the rocks. He had started with such a complete appreciation of the fun involved in a poaching expedition, that we were very heartily sorry to miss his ruddy face when in the hour of triumph we drank the health of the guide-chef with the liveliest of ironical cheers. We fastened the thermometer facing the sun; but though it was now ten o'clock on a cloudless July morning, the mercury did not rise above 24° Fahr. during the half-hour which we spent upon the summit of the mountain. The terrible rent du Nord made itself felt, even though we were sheltered from its direct violence. Only a few feet over our heads we could hear at short intervals the hissing, crackling noise caused by volumes of dry snow and loose pieces of ice being driven by the blast in those long white streamers which, seen against the dark blue sky, are described in the valley by the expression-'Le mont Blanc fume sa pipe.' The wind seemed irritated by our having escaped from its grasp, and by the gaiety and happiness which prevailed in our little party as proceeded to smoke our pipes also on the sheltered side of the snowroof. It began to throw out skir mishers with the object of turning our flank; and one of them, coming round the corner with a savage puff, succeeded in blowing down my alpenstock, which at once began to roll over the steep snow-slope at our feet. In an instant I jumped forward to catch it before it could make a fatal leap over the boundless precipices which form the southern side of the mountain; but one of the guides stopped me with a scream of terror, and then made it suffi

we

ciently plain that it was better for me to lose my alpenstock than to run the risk of breaking my neck in an attempt to recover it.

There seemed much reason in this line of argument; so, though I felt a little sulky at being interrupted in what I intended for a rather brilliant dash, I resigned myself to the fate of my trusty weapon in the same way as some people are said to resign themselves to the misfortunes of their animate friends. It had only a few yards to roll: then it clicked against a rocky edge; and in the next moment was out of sight, bounding from crag to crag until perhaps its iron spike acted as a skewer to one of 'those few sheep' which nibble the wilderness at the base of the Peteret, many thousands of feet below.

I did not allow myself to be seriously disturbed by the prospect of descending without this customary assistant to the human legs: we were engrossed in utter enjoyment of the situation. Let us think about this matter for a while: for, depend upon it, whatever scoffers may say to the contrary, it is well worth while to spend a scrap of one's earthly life upon the summit of Mont Blanc. Those who have been there are not likely to forget the spectacle revealed to them: and to those who have not been there, or in some similar situation, it is almost useless to attempt description. I would rather confine myself to an analogy. Doubtless most people must at some time or other have watched one of those majestic clouds, grey below and turret-clad with white above, rising almost to a point in the clear summer sky; and wondered what would be the sensation of riding on the highest summit among the celestial blue: the top of Mont Blanc will probably explain it to them. The height is sufficient to present the eye with a panorama of about two hundred miles in every direction, so it is

easy to take a map and calculate what may be seen in favourable weather, though it is impossible to describe how marvellously the various objects are transfigured by the effects of atmosphere and distance. The principal phenomenon to be recorded on this occasion was one that I never saw before or since during a considerable experience of the High Alps. The sky was cloudless, so that we could delight ourselves with observing range after range of snowy mountains, and tracing deep valleys leading to the Italian plains; but everything in the marvellous landscape was tinged with a delicate shade of pink, as if we were looking upon a wonderful world through the medium of a rosy gauze. Others must decide if we were right, but we arrived unanimously at the conclusion that this unusual and almost mysterious appearance must be connected with the fact that the air around us was charged with infinitely fine spicule of powdery snow, flying wildly before the wind.

Before leaving our magnificent throne it may be worth while to examine for a moment the position of those worthy but most misguided individuals who apply the cui bono principle to mountains, and ask with solemn air, 'Did the ascent repay you?' To ask such a question of a true mountaineer is simply to insult him, as completely as we should insult a pious man by asking him whether, after all, he really thought it worth while to go to heaven. Repay? Repay for what? We were neither sick nor sorry. We had not been fatigued or uncomfortable, and if time had permitted we should have liked to remain all day where we were, in the enjoyment of a happiness that was perfect. It must be admitted that the wind was very cold: this however was no serious inconvenience, and may be dismissed as trivial. Though the barometer

stands at sixteen inches on the summit of Mont Blanc, representing an abstraction of nearly half the atmosphere, yet we were not conscious of any effect whatever from the rarefaction of the air. We had We had not felt any desire to halt in the upper regions of the mountain, but went steadily up; and, as I have said before, were astonished at finding ourselves so easily on the topmost ridge with nothing in Europe above us.

So at least we thought at that time. A touch of sorrow might have mixed with our satisfaction if we could then have dreamed that in these later days a generation would arise to blaspheme the supremacy of Mont Blanc in Europe, and to declare with trumpet sound that the Caucasian Kasbek and Elbruz shall reign in his stead. There was something cruel in this part of the excellent work done by our three Alpine brethren; but on the other hand it is very comforting to find that they have done something towards dispelling another delusion.

In re

cording the fact that at a height of three thousand feet above the highest of the Alps, they found no more inconvenience from the rarefaction of the air than if they had been upon the Rigi, they tend to establish a hope that properly trained and healthy men may some day reach far greater altitudes than have yet been touched on the Himalaya and the Andes. Even if Mount Everest and Kinchinjunga may remain invincible, surely some one will be found to complete Humboldt's work on Chimborazo, or to look down upon Bolivia from the heights of Sorata and Illimani. As the modest nature of our expedition was inconsistent with champagne, we had no opportunity of testing the statement that all the contents of the bottle would fly away in a fountain as soon as the cork was removed and as we had no pistol with us, we were not able to prove

After

And now for the descent. nearly three quarters of an hour's enjoyment of the situation, we jumped to our feet and remounted the short snow-crest which had formed our sheltering wall. The old enemy was waiting for us; and as one by one we rose above the ridge, the savage wind swept torrents of highly dried snow and fine spikes of ice into our devoted faces. This was of no consequence however on such a summit as Mont Blanc, the calotte of which is entirely free from dangerous places: we had nothing to do but to shut our mouths, keep our clothes on our backs, and rush down as fast as we could to the rocks of the Petits Mulets. There we found poor Zacharie Cachat in much worse plight than we had expected, and it was probable that it would have been wiser if he had kept in motion by going on with us. All his efforts to restore circulation to his feet had failed, though he had been rubbing them with snow in the most sheltered spot that he could find, and he now looked pale, and seriously alarmed. We were of course very anxious about him; but his courage rose to the occasion, and he determined to meet a grand danger with an heroic remedy. He packed up his boots and stockings, and declared that he would go down the mountain barefoot, as the only way of saving his feet! Such a proceeding could not but remind me of the Irish reptiles disappearing before St. Patrick, when

The snakes committed suicide,

To save themselves from slaughter. But Zacharie was firm, and we started.

From this moment we turned away from our route in the morn