Page:Whymper - Scrambles amongst the Alps.djvu/423

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
chap. xviii.
VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT.
363

position must needs be unsatisfactory. Upon the summit of the Verte there is not this objection. You see valleys, villages, fields; you see mountains interminable rolling away, lakes resting in their hollows; you hear the tinkling of the sheep-bells as it rises through the clear mountain air, and the roar of the avalanches as they descend to the valleys: but above all there is the great white dome, with its shining crest high above; with its sparkling glaciers that descend between buttresses which support them; with its brilliant snows, purer and yet purer the farther they are removed from this unclean world.[1]

Even upon this mountain-top it was impossible to forget the world, for some vile wretch came to the Jardin and made hideous sounds by blowing upon a horn. Whilst we were denouncing him a change came over the weather; cumulous clouds gathered in all directions, and we started off in hot haste. Snow began to fall heavily before we were off the summit-rocks, our track was obscured and frequently lost, and everything became so sloppy and slippery that the descent took as long as the ascent. The schrund was recrossed at 3.15 p.m., and thence we raced down to the Couvercle, intending to have a carouse there; but as we rounded our rock a howl broke simultaneously from all three of us, for the porter had taken down the tent, and was in the act of moving off with it. "Stop, there! what are you doing?" He observed that he had thought we were killed, or at least lost, and was going to Chamounix to communicate his ideas to the guide chef. "Unfasten the tent, and get out the food." But instead of doing so the porter fumbled in his pockets. "Get out the food," we roared, losing all patience. "Here it is," said our worthy friend, producing a dirty piece of bread about as big as a halfpenny roll. We three looked solemnly at the fluff-covered morsel. It was past a joke,—he had devoured everything. Mutton, loaves, cheese, wine, eggs, sausages—all was

  1. The summit of the Aiguille Verte was a snowy dome, large enough for a quadrille. I was surprised to see the great height of Les Droites. Captain Mieulet places its summit at 13,222 feet, but I think it must be very slightly lower than the Verte itself.