stating his conviction that at no period since the creation of the world, nor for that matter anterior to it, had such wind and such clouds resulted in aught but the most desperate and lasting bad weather. We felt that exercise would be good for his spirits, and that in any case his company would be depressing, so he was sent back to Zermatt for extra supplies and the best man he could find to help carry them. We pointed out the place where we should camp, and undertook to intercept him on his way back should the weather appear to us too evil for sleeping out.
Ever darkening clouds rolled over the Col Tournanche, and the roar of the wind through the crags of the Matterhorn became distinctly audible, telling of the furious hurricane that was raging round its mighty ridges. Burgener's confidence began to waver, and he again suggested retiring to the Capuan luxuries of the Monte Rosa Hotel. I felt more than a tremor of doubt myself, but the die was cast, so I trusted to luck, kept a cheerful countenance and declared that, come what might, we should have fair play from the weather.
Burgener was impressed. The constant blotting out of the distant ridges, the ever gathering mass of cloud round the Matterhorn and more than a suspicion of dampness in the fierce squalls of wind that smote us at short intervals, were signs so distinct and unmistakable that he thought even a Herr must recognise them. My persistence, there-
