CHAPTER VII.
THE DENT DU REQUIN.
FOUR travel-worn men[1] arrived at the Montenvers at 7 o'clock one evening, after thirty-three hours of continuous railway and diligence, and, with the enthusiasm of inveterate climbers, immediately began to discuss what was to be done on the morrow. "Began"! do I say? It had formed the staple of their talk during all those weary thirty-three hours, and still no satisfactory conclusion had been reached. The walk up to the Montenvers had, however, convinced three out of the four that a start at 2 a.m. the next morning would be contrary to all the canons of mountaineering. On the other hand it was felt that perfect weather must not be wasted, and, as a concession to the youth and energy of the party, it was decided that we would camp the next night in the open, and assault the redoubtable Dent du Requin on the following day. Even the suggestion hazarded by the aforementioned
- ↑ Messrs. Cecil Slingsby, Norman Collie, G. Hastings, and myself. The ascent was made on the 25th July, 1893.
