_FROM STEIN TO THE GRIMSEL._
On the 19th of July 1863 Mr. Philip Lutley Sclater and I reached
Reichenbach, and on the following day we sauntered up the valley of
Hasli, and over the Kirchet to Imhof, where we turned to the left
into Gadmenthal. Our destination was Stein, which we reached by a
grass-grown road through fine scenery. The goatherds were milking
when we arrived. At the heels of one quadruped, supported by the
ordinary uni-legged stool of the Senner, bent a particularly wild
and dirty-looking individual, who, our guide informed us, was the
proprietor of the inn. ‘He is but a rough Bauer,’ said Jaun, ‘but he
has engaged a pretty maiden to keep house for him.’ While he thus
spoke a light-footed creature glided from the door towards us, and
bade us welcome. She led us upstairs, provided us with baths, took our
orders for dinner, helped us by her suggestions, and answered all our
questions with the utmost propriety and grace. She had been two years
in England, and spoke English with a particularly winning accent.
How she came to be associated with the unkempt individual outside was
a puzzle to both of us. It is Emerson, I think, who remarks on the
benefit which a beautiful face, without trouble to itself, confers
upon him who looks at it. And, though downright beauty could hardly be
claimed for our young hostess, she was handsome enough and graceful
enough to brighten a tired traveller’s thoughts, and to raise by her
presence the modest comforts she dispensed to the level of luxuries.[14]
[14] Thackeray, in his ‘Peg of Limavady,’ is perhaps more to the point
than Emerson:
‘Presently a maid
Enters with the liquor--
Half a pint of ale
Frothing in a beaker;
As she came she smiled,
And the smile bewitching,
On my word and honour,
Lighted all the kitchen.’
It rained all night, and at 3.30 A.M., when we were called, it still
fell heavily. At 5, however, the clouds began to break, and half an
hour afterwards the heavens were swept quite clear of them. At 6 we
bade our pretty blossom of the Alps good-bye. She had previously
brought her gentle influence to bear upon her master to moderate the
extortion of some of his charges. We were soon upon the Stein glacier,
and after some time reached a col from which we looked down upon the
lower portion of the nobler and more instructive Trift glacier. Brown
bands were drawn across the ice-stream, forming graceful loops with
their convexities turned downwards. The higher portions of the glacier
were not in view; still those bands rendered the inference secure that
an ice-fall existed higher up, at the base of which the bands had
originated. We shot down a shingly couloir to the Trift, and looking
up the glacier the anticipated cascade came into view. At its bottom
the ice, by pressure, underwent that notable change, analogous to
slaty cleavage, which caused the glacier to weather and gather dirt in
parallel grooves, thus marking upon its surface the direction of its
interior lamination.
The ice-cascade being itself impracticable, we scaled the rocks to the
left of it, and were soon in presence of the far-stretching snow-fields
from which the lower glacier derives nutriment. With a view to hidden
crevasses, we here roped ourselves together. The sun was strong, its
direct and reflected blaze combining against us. The scorching warmth
experienced at times by cheeks, lips, and neck indicated that in
my case mischief was brewing; but the eyes being well protected by
dark spectacles, I was comparatively indifferent to the prospective
disfigurement of my face. Mr. Sclater was sheltered by a veil, a
mode of defence which the habit of going into places requiring the
unimpeded eyesight has caused me to neglect.
There would seem to be some specific quality in the sun’s rays which
produces the irritation of the skin experienced in the Alps. The solar
heat may be compared, in point of _quantity_, with that radiated from
a furnace; and the heat encountered by the mountaineer on Alpine
snows is certainly less intense than that endured by workmen in many
of our technical operations. But the terrestrial heat appears to
lack the _quality_ which gives the solar rays their power. The sun
is incomparably richer in what are called chemical rays than are our
fires, and to such rays the irritation may be due. The keen air of the
heights may also have much to do with it. As a remedy for sunburn I
have tried glycerine, and found it a failure. The ordinary lip-salve of
the druggists’ shops is also worse than useless; but pure cold-cream,
for a supply of which I have often had occasion to thank a friend, is
an excellent ameliorative.
After considerable labour we reached the ridge--a very glorious one
as regards the view--which forms the common boundary of the Rhone and
Trift glaciers.[15] Before us and behind us for many a mile fell the
dazzling _névés_, down to the points where the grey ice emerging from
its white coverlet declared the junction of snow-field and glacier. We
had plodded on for hours soddened by the solar heat and parched with
thirst. There was
[15] Seven years previously Mr. Huxley and myself had attempted to
reach this col from the other side.
Water, water everywhere,
But not a drop to drink;
for, when placed in the mouth, the liquefaction of the ice was so slow,
and the loss of heat from the surrounding tissues so painful, that
sucking it was worse than total abstinence. In the midst of this solid
water you might die of thirst. At some distance below the col, on the
Rhone side, the musical trickle of water made itself audible, and to
the rocks from which it fell we repaired, and refreshed ourselves.
The day was far spent, the region was wild and lonely, when, beset by
that feeling which has often caused me to wander singly in the Alps, I
broke away from my companions, and went rapidly down the glacier. Our
guide had previously informed me that before reaching the cascade of
the Rhone the ice was to be forsaken, and the Grimsel, our destination,
reached by skirting the base of the peak called Nägelis Grätli.
After descending the ice for some time I struck the bounding rocks,
and, climbing the mountain obliquely, found myself among the crags
which lie between the Grimsel pass and the Rhone glacier. It was an
exceedingly desolate place, and I soon had reason to doubt the wisdom
of being there alone. Still difficulty rouses powers of which we should
otherwise remain unconscious. The heat of the day had rendered me
weary, but among these rocks the weariness vanished, and I became clear
in mind and fresh in body through the knowledge that after nightfall
escape from this wilderness would be impossible.
I reached the watershed of the region, where I accepted the guidance of
a tiny stream. It received in its course various lateral tributaries,
and at one place expanded into a small blue lake bounded by banks of
snow. I kept along its side afterwards until, arching over a brow of
granite, it discharged itself down precipitous and glaciated rocks.
Here I learned that the stream was the feeder of the Grimsel lake. I
halted on the brow for some time. The hospice was in sight, but the
precipices between it and me seemed desperately forbidding. Nothing is
more trying to the climber than those cliffs which have been polished
by the ancient glaciers. Even at moderate inclinations, as may be
learned from an experiment on the Höllenplatte, or some other of the
polished rocks in Haslithal, they are not easy. I need hardly say that
the inclination of the rocks flanking the Grimsel is the reverse of
moderate. It is dangerously steep.
How to get down these smooth and precipitous tablets was now a problem
of the utmost interest to me; for the day was too far gone, and I was
too ignorant of the locality, to permit of time being spent in the
search of an easier place of descent. Right or left of me I saw none.
The continuity of the cliffs below me was occasionally broken by cracks
and narrow ledges, with scanty grass-tufts sprouting from them here
and there. The problem was to get down from crack to crack and from
ledge to ledge. A salutary anger warms the mind when thus challenged,
and, aided by this warmth, close scrutiny will dissolve difficulties
which timidity might render insuperable. Bit by bit I found myself
getting lower, closely examining at every pause the rocks below me.
The grass-tufts helped me for a time, but at length a slab was reached
where no friendly grass could grow. This slab was succeeded by others
equally forbidding. I looked upwards, thinking of retreat, but the
failing day urged me on. From the middle of the smooth surface jutted
a narrow ledge. Grasping the top of the rock, I let myself down as far
as my stretched arms would permit, and then let go my hold. I came
upon the ledge with an energy that alarmed me. A downward-pointing
crack with a streak of grass in it was next attained; it terminated in
a small, steep gulley, the portion of which within view was crossed
by three transverse ledges, and I judged that by friction the motion
down the groove could be so regulated as to enable me to come to rest
at each successive ledge. But the rush was unexpectedly rapid, and I
shot over the first ledge. Having some power in reserve, I tried to
clamp myself against the rock, but the second ledge was crossed like
the first. The wish to spare clothes or avoid abrasions of the skin
here vanished, and for dear life I grappled with the rock. Braces gave
way, clothes were rent, wrists and hands were skinned and bruised,
while hips and knees suffered variously. The motion however ended. I
was greatly heated, but immensely relieved otherwise. A little lower
down I discovered a singular cave in the mountain-side, with water
dripping from its roof into a well of crystal clearness. The ice-cold
liquid soon restored me to a normal temperature. I felt quite fresh on
entering the Grimsel inn, but a curious physiological effect manifested
itself when I had occasion to speak. The power of the brain over the
lips was so lowered that I could hardly make myself understood.