that the ascent must be abandoned, and, after an hour's halt, we tramped wearily back to Zermatt, where we arrived too early for breakfast and too late for bed.
After a bathe in the Triftbach, I returned to a sad and solitary meal in the Monte Rosa Hotel, and, from a secluded corner, heard my chances of success discussed on all sides; the more eager folk even neglecting their breakfasts in favour of the painful attitudes requisite to watch the Furggen ridge through the big telescope.
A well-known climber has expressed a doubt whether the Christian virtue of good temper is binding on a man before 9.30 a.m. I sincerely trust it may not be, or Venetz and I most certainly have a "mauvais quart d'heure" before us. Burgener, with much wisdom, went to bed, and was thus free from the wrangles with which Venetz and I sought to pass the dragging hours. As the day wore on, things began to take a more hopeful turn. Burgener was reporred better, and, towards evening, even in favour of a renewed attempt. Two other parties were leaving for the Hörnli route at 11 p.m., so, to avoid the bustle and discomfort of an innumerable host, we determined not to start before midnight.
Owing to the usual delays, we did not actually get off till 12.45 p.m., and, once more, tramped up the slopes to our last night's halting place.
