At the extreme north-western comer of the great buttress or shelf on which rests the Matterhorn glacier, is a stony plateau from which the ice has long since retreated. We hoped to discover a sheltered hollow amongst the débris with which it is strewn, and thitherward we slowly wended our way. On our arrival we found a total absence of convenient hollows, and we were fain to content ourselves with such protection as the side of a big rock affords. Above us frowned the great ice cliffs of the glacier, cutting off nearly all view of the mountain. To their right, and out of reach of any fragments that might fall from them, was a long ridge of rock leading to the foot of the snow arête. Having lit our fire and set the pot to boil, we sat down at the edge of the cliff overlooking the Zmutt glacier, and soon discovered Gentinetta and another man making their way rapidly through the crevasses. Meanwhile the sun had set, and with the gathering darkness the last lingering clouds dispersed as by magic. About eight o'clock the men arrived, and we found that our new recruit was Johann Petrus. We were both delighted, for no bolder climber or more resolute man has ever delighted the heart of an eager Herr.
Gentinetta's commissariat arrangements had taken a very fluid form. Our dinner consisted chiefly of the remains of our original provisions and an heterogeneous mixture of red wine and marsala, bottled beer and cognac. During the
