The Pursuit of Science under Difficulties.
After the first burst of enthusiasm and interest had abated, the
attention of the party became engrossed in the proceedings of the
Professor, who, with his assistants, began at once to adjust his
theodolite, and fix stakes in the ice. While he was thus engaged,
Captain Wopper regarded the Mer de Glace with a gaze of fixedness so
intense as to draw on him the attention and arouse the curiosity of his
friends.
"D'you see anything curious, Captain?" asked Emma, who chanced to stand
beside him.
"Coorious--eh?" repeated the Captain slowly, without altering his gaze
or adding to his reply.
"Monsieur le Capitaine is lost in consternation," said Nita, with a
smile.
"I think, Miss Horetzki," said Lewis, "that you probably mean
_admiration_."
"How you knows w'at I mean?" demanded Nita, quickly.
"Ha! a very proper and pertinent question," observed Slingsby, in an
audible though under tone.
"I nevair do put _pertinent_ questions, sir," said Nita, turning her
black eyes sharply, though with something of a twinkle in them, on the
mad artist.
Poor Slingsby began to explain, but Nita cut him short by turning to
Lewis and again demanding, "How you knows w'at I mean?"
"The uniform propriety of your thoughts, Mademoiselle," replied Lewis,
with a continental bow, and an air of pretended respect, "induces me to
suppose that your words misinterpret them."
Nita's knowledge of English was such that this remark gave her only a
hazy idea of the youth's meaning; she accepted it, however, as an
apologetic explanation, and ordered him to awaken the Captain and find
out from him what it was that so riveted his attention.
"You hear my orders," said Lewis, laying his hand with a slap on the
Captain's shoulder. "What are you staring at?"
"Move!" murmured the Captain, returning as it were to consciousness with
a long deep sigh, "it don't move an inch."
"_What_ does not move?" said Lawrence, who had been assisting to adjust
the theodolite, and came forward at the moment.
"The ice, to be sure," answered the Captain. "I say, Professor, do 'ee
mean to tell me that the whole of that there Mairdy-glass is movin'?"
"I do," answered the Professor, pausing for a minute in his
arrangements, and looking over his spectacles at the Captain with an
amused expression.
"Then," returned the Captain, with emphasis, "I think you'll find that
you're mistaken."
"Ha! Captain Weeper--"
"Wopper," said the Captain.
"Wopper," repeated the Professor, "you are not the first who has
expressed disbelief in what he cannot see, and you will assuredly not be
the last; but if you will wait I will convince you."
"Very good," replied the Captain, "I'm open to conviction."
"Which means," said Lewis, "that you have nailed your colours to the
mast, and mean to die rather than give in."
"No doubt," said the Captain, paying no attention to the last remark, "I
see, _and_ believe, that at some time or other the ice here must have
been in a flowin' state. I'm too well aware o' the shape of waves an'
eddies, cross-currents and ripples, to doubt or deny that but any man
with half an eye can see that it's anchored hard and fast _now_. I've
looked at it without flinchin' for good ten minutes, and not the
smallest sign of motion can I detect."
"So might you say of the hour-hand of a watch," observed Lawrence.
"Not at all," retorted the Captain, becoming argumentative. "I look at
the hour-hand of a watch for ten minutes and don't see it move, but I
_do_ see that it has in reality passed over a very small but appreciable
space in that time."
"Just so," said the Professor, "I will ere long show you the same thing
in regard to the ice."
"I'll bet you ten thousand pounds you don't," returned the Captain, with
an assured nod.
"Colours nailed!" said Lewis; "but I say, Captain," he added,
remonstratively, "I thought you were a sworn enemy to gambling. Isn't
betting gambling?"
"It is, young man," answered the Captain, "but I always bet ten thousand
pounds sterling, which I never mean to pay if I lose, nor to accept if I
win--and that is _not_ gambling. Put that in your pipe and smoke it;
and if you'll take my advice, you'll go look after your friend Slingsby,
who is gambolling up yonder in another fashion that will soon bring him
to grief if he's not stopped."
All eyes were turned towards the mad artist, who, finding that his
advances to Mademoiselle Nita were not well received, had for the time
forsaken her, and returned to his first (and professional) love. In
wooing her, he had clambered to an almost inaccessible cliff from which
he hoped to obtain a very sketchable view of the Mer de Glace, and, when
Captain Wopper drew attention to him, was making frantic efforts to
swing himself by the branch of a tree to a projecting rock, which was so
slightly attached to its parent cliff that his weight would in all
probability have hurled it and himself down the precipice.
The remonstrative shouts of his friends, however, induced him to desist,
and he sat down to work in a less perilous position.
Meanwhile the Professor, having completed his preliminary preparations,
ordered his assistants to go and "fix the stakes in the ice."
It had been arranged that while the scientific experiments were in
progress, the young ladies should ramble about the neighbourhood in
search of flowers and plants, under the care of Lewis, until two
o'clock, at which hour all were to assemble at the Montanvert hotel for
luncheon, Captain Wopper and Lawrence resolving to remain and assist, or
at least observe, the Professor. The former, indeed, bearing in mind
his great and ruling wish even in the midst of scientific doubt and
inquiries, had suggested that the latter should also accompany the
ladies, the country being somewhat rugged, and the ladies--especially
Miss Emma--not being very sure-footed; but Lawrence, to his
disappointment, had declined, saying that the ladies had a sufficient
protector in the gallant Lewis, and that Miss Emma was unquestionably
the surest-footed of the whole party.
Lawrence therefore remained, and, at the Professor's request,
accompanied the party who were to fix the stakes on the ice.
As this operation was attended with considerable difficulty and some
danger, we will describe the process.
Finding that the spot which he had first chosen for his observations was
not a very good one, the Professor changed his position to a point
farther down on the steep sloping rocks that form the left bank of the
Glacier des Bois. Here the theodolite was fixed. This instrument as
even our young readers may probably know, is a small telescope attached
to a stand with three long legs, and having spirit-levels, by means of
which it can be fixed in a position, if we may say so, of exact flatness
with reference to the centre of the earth. Within the telescope are two
crossed hairs of a spider's-web, so fine as to be scarcely visible to
the naked eye, and so arranged that their crossing-point is exactly in
the centre of the tube. By means of pivots and screws the telescope can
be moved up or down, right or left, without in the smallest degree
altering the flatness or position of its stand. On looking through the
telescope the delicate threads can be distinctly seen, and the point
where they cross can be brought to bear on any distant object.
Having fixed the instrument on the rocks quite clear of the ice, the
Professor determined the direction of a supposed line perpendicular to
the axis of the glacier. He then sought for a conspicuous and
well-defined object on the opposite side of the valley, as near as
possible to that direction. In this he was greatly helped by Captain
Wopper, who, having been long accustomed to look-out with precision at
sea, found it not very difficult to apply his powers on land.
"There's a good land-mark, Professor," he said, pointing towards a
sharply-cut rock, "as like the Dook of Wellington's nose as two peas."
"I see it," said the Professor, whose solid and masculine countenance
was just the smallest possible degree flushed by the strong
under-current of enthusiasm with which he prosecuted his experiments.
"You couldn't have a better object than the pint o' that," observed the
Captain, whose enthusiasm was quite as great as, and his excitement much
greater than, that of the Professor.
Having carefully directed the telescope to the extreme point of the
"Dook's" nose, the Professor now ordered one of his assistants to go on
the glacier with a stake. Lawrence descended with him, and thus planted
his foot on glacier-ice for the first time, as Lewis afterwards
remarked, in the pursuit scientific knowledge.
While they were clambering slowly down among the loose boulders and
_debris_ which had been left by the glacier in previous years, the
Professor carefully sketched the Duke of Wellington's nose with the
rocks, etcetera, immediately around it, in his notebook, so that it
might be easily recognised again on returning to the spot on a future
day.
The assistant who had been sent out with the first stake proved to be
rather stupid, so that it was fortunate he had been accompanied by
Lawrence, and by the guide, Antoine Grennon, who stirred up his
perceptions. By rough signalling he was made to stand near the place
where the first stake was to be driven in. The telescope was then
lowered, and the man was made, by signals, to move about and plant his
stake here and there in an upright position until the point of
intersection of the spider's threads fell exactly on the bottom of the
stake. A pre-arranged signal was then made, and at that point an auger
hole was bored deep into the ice and the stake driven home.
"So much for number one," said Captain Wopper, with a look of
satisfaction.
"They won't fix the other ones so easily," observed the Professor,
re-examining the stake through the telescope with great care.
He was right in this. The first stake had been planted not far from the
shore, but now Lawrence and his party had to proceed in a straight line
over the glacier, which, at this steep portion of its descent into the
Vale of Chamouni, was rent, dislocated, and tortured, to such an extent
that it was covered with huge blocks and pinnacles of ice, and seamed
with yawning crevasses. To clamber over some of the ice-ridges was
almost impossible, and, in order to avoid pinnacles and crevasses, which
were quite impassable, frequent _detours_ had to be made. If the object
of the ice-party had merely been to cross the glacier, the difficulties
would not have been great; but the necessity of always returning to the
straight line pointed out by the inexorable theodolite, led them into
positions of considerable difficulty. To the inexperienced Lawrence
they also appeared to be positions of great danger, much to the
amusement of Antoine, who, accustomed as he was to the fearful
ice-slopes and abysses of the higher regions, looked upon this work as
mere child's play.
"You'll come to have a different notion of crevasses, sir," he said,
with a quiet smile, "after you've bin among the seracs of the Grand
Mulet, and up some of the couloirs of Monte Rosa."
"I doubt it not, Antoine," said Lawrence, gazing with feelings of awe
into a terrible split in the ice, whose beautiful light-blue sides
deepened into intense blackness as they were lost to vision in an abyss,
out of which arose the deep-toned gurgling of sub-glacial streams; "but
you must not forget that this is quite new to me, and my feet are not
yet aware of the precise grip with which they must hold on to so
slippery a foundation."
It was in truth no discredit to Lawrence that he felt a tendency to
shrink from edges of chasms which appeared ready to break off, or walked
with caution on ice-slopes which led to unfathomable holes, for the said
slopes, although not steep, were undoubtedly slippery.
After much clambering, a ridge was at length gained, on which the second
stake was set up, and then the party proceeded onwards to fix the third;
but now the difficulties proved to be greater than before. A huge block
of ice was fixed upon as that which would suit their purpose, but it
stood like a peninsula in the very midst of a crevasse, and connected
with the main body of ice by a neck which looked as sharp as a knife on
its upper edge, so that none but tight-rope or slack-wire dancers could
have proceeded along it; and even such performers would have found the
edge too brittle to sustain them.
"You'll have to show, Monsieur, some of your mountaineer skill here?"
said the man who carried the stakes to Antoine.
He spoke in French, which Lawrence understood perfectly. We render it
as nearly as possible into the counterpart English.
Antoine at once stepped forward with his Alpine axe, and, swinging it
vigorously over his head, cut a deep notch on the sloping side of the
neck of ice. Beyond it he cut a second notch. No man--not even a
monkey--could have stood on the glassy slope which descended into the
abyss at their side; but Antoine, putting one foot in the first notch,
and the other in the second, stood as secure as if he had been on a flat
rock. Again he swung his axe, and planted his foot in a third notch,
swinging his axe the instant it was fixed for the purpose of cutting the
fourth. Thus, cut by cut and step by step, he passed over to the block
of ice aimed at. It was but a short neck. A few notches were
sufficient, yet without an axe to cut these notches, the place had been
absolutely impassable. It was by no means a "dangerous" place,
according to the ideas of Alpine mountaineers, nevertheless a slip, or
the loss of balance, would have been followed by contain death. Antoine
knew this, and, like a wise guide, took proper precautions.
"Stay, sir," he said, as Lawrence was screwing up his courage to follow
him, "I will show you another piece of Alpine practice."
He returned as he spoke, and, unwinding a coil of rope which he carried,
fastened one end thereof round his waist. Allowing a few feet of
interval, he then fastened the rope round Lawrence's waist, and the
assistants with the stakes--of whom there were two besides the man
already referred to--also attached themselves to the rope in like
manner. By this means they all passed over with comparative security,
because if any one of them had chanced to slip, the others would have
fixed the points of their axes and alpenstocks in the ice and held on
until their overbalanced comrade should have been restored to his
position.
On gaining the block, however, it was found that the line communicating
with the theodolite on the one hand, and the Dook's nose on the other,
just missed it. The Professor's signals continued to indicate "more to
the left," (_his_ left, that is) until the stake-driver stood on the
extreme edge of the crevasse, and his comrades held on tight by the rope
to prevent him from falling over. Still the professor indicated "more
to the left!"
As "more to the left" implied the planting of the stake in atmospheric
air, they were fain to search for a suitable spot farther on.
This they found, after some scrambling, on a serrated ridge whose edge
was just wide and strong enough to sustain them. Here the exact line
was marked, but while the hole was being bored, an ominous crack was
heard ascending as if from the heart of the glacier.
"What was that?" said Lawrence, turning to the guide with a quick
surprised look.
"Only a split in the ice somewhere. It's a common sound enough, as you
might expect in a mass that is constantly moving," replied Antoine,
looking gravely round him, "but I can't help thinking that this lump of
ice, with crevasses on each side, is not the best of all spots for
fixing a stake. It isn't solid enough."
As he spoke, another crash was heard, not quite so loud as the last and
at the same moment the whole mass on which the party stood slid forward
a few inches. It seemed as if it were about to tumble into the very
jaws of the crevasse. With the natural instinct of self-preservation
strong upon him, Lawrence darted across the narrow ridge to the firm ice
in rear, dispensing entirely with that extreme caution which had marked
his first passage over it. Indeed the tight-rope and slack-wire dancers
formerly referred to could not have performed the feat with greater
lightness, rapidity, and precision. The stake-drivers followed him with
almost similar alacrity. Even the guide retraced his steps without
further delay than was necessary to permit of his picking up the stakes
which their proper custodians had left behind in their alarm--for they
were not guides, merely young and inexperienced porters.
"For shame, lads," said Antoine, laughing and shaking his head, "you'll
be but bad specimens of the men of Chamouni if you don't learn more
coolness on the ice."
One would have thought that coolness on the ice was an almost
unavoidable consequence of the surrounding conditions, yet Lawrence
seemed to contradict the idea, for his face appeared unusually warm as
he laughed and said:--
"The shame lies with me, Antoine, for I set them the example, and all
history goes to prove that even brave men are swept away under the
influence of a panic which the act of one cowardly man may produce."
As Lawrence spoke in French, the porters understood and appreciated his
defence of them, but Antoine would by no means encourage the fallacy.
"It is not cowardly, sir," he said, "to spring quickly out of a danger
that one don't understand the nature of, but the young men of Chamouni
have, or ought to have, a good understanding of the nature of ice, and
the danger should be great indeed that would necessitate the leaving of
their tools behind them."
A roar like that of a bull of Bashan, or a boatswain, here interrupted
the conversation.
"Don't plant your post the-r-r-re," shouted Captain Wopper from the
banks of the ice-river, "the Professor says the ice ain't firm enough.
Heave ahead--to where its ha-a-ard an' fa-a-ast."
"Ay, ay, sir," shouted Lawrence, with nautical brevity, in reply.
The next stake was accordingly fixed on a part of the ice which was
obviously incapable of what might be called a local slip, and which
must, if it moved at all, do so in accordance with the movements of the
entire glacier.
Thus one by one the stakes were planted in a perfectly straight line, so
that when Captain Wopper was requested by the Professor to look through
the telescope--which he did with a seaman's readiness and precision--he
observed that all the stakes together appeared to form but one stake,
the bottom of which was touched on one side of the Mer de Glace by the
centre-point of the crossed threads, and, on the other, by the extreme
point of the "Dook" of Wellington's nose. The last stake had been fixed
not many yards distant from the opposite bank of the glacier.
"Now," said the Professor, with a deep sigh of satisfaction when all
this was accomplished and noted, "we will go have our luncheon and
return hither to-morrow to observe the result of our experiments. But
first we must fix the exact position of our theodolite, for unless it
occupies to a hair's-breadth to-morrow the same position which it
occupies to-day, the result will be quite inconclusive."
So saying, the man of science took a little line and plummet from his
pocket, which he hung under the theodolite, and the spot where the
plummet touched the ground was carefully marked by a small stake driven
quite down to its head.
Thereafter an attempt was made to gather together the scattered party,
but this was difficult. Owing to various causes several members of it
had become oblivious of time. Emma had forgotten time in the pursuit of
wild-flowers, of which she was excessively fond, partly because she had
learned to press and classify and write their proper names under them,
but chiefly because they were intrinsically lovely, and usually grew in
the midst of beautiful scenery. Nita had forgotten it in the pursuit of
Emma, of whom she had become suddenly and passionately fond, partly
because she possessed a loving nature, but chiefly because Emma was her
counterpart. Lewis had forgotten it in pursuit of Nita, of whom he had
become extremely fond, partly because she was pretty and pert, but
chiefly because he--he--well, we cannot say precisely why, seeing that
he did not inform us, and did not himself appear clearly to know.
Slingsby had forgotten it in the ardent effort to reproduce on paper and
with pencil, a scene so magnificent that a brush dipped in the rainbow
and applied by Claude or Turner would have utterly failed to do it
justice; and last, as well as least, Gillie White had forgotten it in
the pursuit of general knowledge, in which pursuit he had used his
alpenstock effectively in opening up everything, stabbing, knocking
down, uprooting, overturning, and generally shattering everything that
was capable of being in any degree affected by the physical powers and
forces at his command. There can be no doubt whatever that if Gillie
White had been big and strong enough, Mont Blanc itself would have
succumbed that day to his inquiring mind, and the greatest ice-reservoir
of Europe would have been levelled with the plain. As it was, he merely
levelled himself, after reaching the point of exhaustion, and went to
sleep on the sunny side of a rock, where he was nearly roasted alive
before being aroused by the shouts of Captain Wopper.
At last, however, the party assembled at the Montanvert, where, amid
interjectional accounts of the various incidents and adventures of the
forenoon, strength was recruited for the subsequent operations of the
day. These, however, were only matters of amusement. The Professor,
remarking jocosely that he now cast science to the dogs and cats (which
latter he pronounced cawts), sent his instruments back to Chamouni, and,
with the zest of a big boy let loose from school, crossed the Mer de
Glace to the Chapeau.
This feat was by no means so difficult as that which had been
accomplished by Lawrence. It will be remembered that the spot selected
for measurement had been at the steep and rugged part of the ice-river
styled the Glacier des Bois, below the Montanvert. The ordinary
crossing-place lay considerably higher up, just opposite to the inn.
The track had been marked out over the easiest and flattest part of the
ice, and levelled here and there where necessary for the special benefit
of tourists. Still man--even when doing his worst in the way of making
rough places plain, and robbing nature of some of her romance--could not
do much to damage the grandeur of that impressive spot. His axe only
chipped a little of the surface and made the footing secure. It could
not mar the beauty of the picturesque surroundings, or dim the sun's
glitter on the ice-pinnacles, or taint the purity of these delicate blue
depths into which Emma and Nita gazed for the first time with admiration
and surprise while they listened to the mysterious murmurings of
sub-glacial waters with mingled feelings of curiosity and awe.
Full of interest they traversed the grand unfathomable river of ice,--
the product of the compressed snows of innumerable winters,--and,
reaching the other side in less than an hour, descended the Chapeau
through the terminal moraine.
Those who have not seen it can form but a faint conception of the
stupendous mass of _debris_ which is cut, torn, wrenched, carried,
swept, hurled, rolled, crushed, and ground down by a glacier from the
mountain-heights into the plain below. The terminal moraine of the Mer
de Glace is a whole valley whose floor and sides are not only quite, but
deeply, covered with rocks of every shape and size, from a pebble the
size of a pea, to a boulder as large as a cottage, all strewn, piled,
and heaped together in a wild confusion that is eminently suggestive of
the mighty force which cast them there.
"To me there do seem something dreadful as well as grand in it," said
Nita, as she sat down on a boulder beside Emma, near the lower end of
the chaotic valley.
"It is, indeed, terrible," answered Emma, "and fills me with wonder when
I think that frozen water possesses power so stupendous."
"And yet the same element," said the Professor, "which, when frozen,
thus rends the mountains with force irresistible, when melted flows
through the land in gentle fertilising streams. In both forms its power
is most wonderful."
"Like that of Him who created it," said Emma, in a low tone.
The party stood on the margin of a little pond or lakelet that had
collected in the midst of the _debris_, and which, by reflecting the
clear sky and their figures, with several large boulders on its margin,
gave point and a measure of softness to the otherwise confused and
rugged scene. While they stood and sat rapt in silent contemplation of
the tongue of the Mer de Glace, at whose tip was the blue ice-cave
whence issued the Arveiron, a lordly eagle rose from a neighbouring
cliff and soared grandly over their heads, while a bright gleam of the
sinking sun shot over the white shoulders of Mont Blanc and lit up the
higher end of the valley, throwing the lower part into deeper shade by
contrast.
"There is a warning to us," said Lewis, whose chief interest in the
scene lay in the reflection of it that gleamed from Nita Horetzki's
eyes.
"Which is the warning," asked Slingsby, "the gleam of sunshine or the
eagle?"
"Both, for while the sun is going to bed behind the snow, the eagle is
doubtless going home to her eyrie, and Antoine tells me that it is full
three miles from this spot to our hotel in Chamouni."
It did not take them long to traverse that space, and ere long, like the
eagle and the sun, the whole party had retired to rest--the younger
members, doubtless, to dreamless slumber; the Professor and the Captain,
probably, to visions of theodolites and ice.
Although, however, these worthies must needs await the coming day to
have their scientific hopes realised, it would be cruel to keep our
patient reader in suspense. We may therefore note here that when, on
the following day, the theodolite was re-fixed, and the man of science
and his amateur friend had applied their respective eyes to the
telescope, they were assured beyond a doubt that the stakes _had moved_,
some more and some less, while the "Dook's nose," of course, remained
hard and fast as the rock of which it was composed. The stakes had
descended from about one to three feet during the twenty-four hours--
those near the edge having moved least and those near the centre of the
ice-river's flow having moved farthest.
Of course there was a great deal of observing with the theodolite, and
careful measuring as well as scrambling on the ice, similar to that of
the previous day; but the end of the whole was that the glacier was
ascertained to have flowed, definitely and observably down its channel,
there could be no doubt whatever about that; the thing had been clearly
proved, therefore the Professor was triumphant and the Captain, being a
reasonable man, was convinced.