some distance away. We have been told by the poet that neither are they
to be attained by omnibuses, nor to be approached by
'A ram-you-damn-you liner with a brace of bucking screws.'
Therefore why disturb the darkness, O most miserable one, by dismal
reiteration of a well-known fact? But still the song moans out its
Cockney dialect, false notes, and falser sentiment; and the singer,
drenched to the skin, possibly starving, with probably only one desire,
and that for drink, goes his way. I hear the melancholy music die into
the distance. Of a truth his sensations cannot be pleasant; but with
these few coppers changed into the equivalent of alcohol perhaps he
also may
'Life's leaden metal into gold transmute,'
and cheat himself into the belief that life is worth living. That last
sentence, now I come to read it over again, seems perhaps a trifle
cynical; _seems_, certainly, but are we not told that things often 'are
not what they seem'? I have heard the late poet laureate accused (and
by a Scotchwoman, too!) of writing slang.
'Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly towards the west.'
My thoughts, too, are 'sloping' in a westerly direction. I am on
a personally-conducted tour--my brain is in command, and I am the
spectator.
If only I can forget that those letters have to be answered, and if
no other miserable wretch comes to sing touching refrains outside in
the rain, my brain and I shall thoroughly enjoy each other's company;
whilst the firelight sheds its dim radiance over glimpses of the
metamorphised past and the indeterminable future, till all is so
blended together that I cannot tell whether these things have been or
are to be.
I see long stretches of Rannoch moor as Stevenson saw it, 'where the
mists rise and die away, and showed us that country lying as waste as
the sea; only the moorfowl and the peewees crying upon it, and far over
to the east a herd of deer moving like dots. Much of it is red with
heather; much of the rest broken up with bogs and hags and peaty pools;
some had been burnt black in a heath fire; and in another place there
are quite a forest of dead firs, standing like skeletons.'
Northward over the moor ponderous Ben Alder lifts his bleak and barren
top in massive strength above lonely Loch Ericht, whilst beyond the
loch, Schehallion's slender summit, deep blue in the evening sky, tells
of that fierce day when the body of the dead Graham lay on the hillside
and the sun went down on a lost cause.
Southward are the peaks of the Black Mount and the peaceful hills
that feed the upper waters of Glen Lyon; then Buchaille Etive and all
those wild, rocky mountains further west, dominating wild Glencoe,
stir the memory with the story of how Campbell of Glen Lyon betrayed
and murdered the whole of the M'Ians with treachery as black as the
cliffs of the Aonach Dubh and as cruel as the winter winds that sweep
mercilessly across the corries and pinnacles of Bidean nam Bian, the
peak of the storms. Or in imagination I follow Alan Breck with Davie
Balfour as they flee by the sea-loch that separates Appin from Mamore
up and across to the great moor, toiling and resting, but ever onward,
till amongst the labyrinth of glens in the heart of the forest of
Ben Alder they found Cluny Macpherson. Yes, Rannoch moor is wild and
desolate; and could the grey blocks of stone or the bare slabs of
granite that lie amongst the brown heather speak, surely there would be
many more tales of bygone adventures to listen to and wonder over.
From Rannoch my mind wanders across the stretches of blue water, past
stormy Ardnamurchan to the island of Mull. I am on the summit of Ben
More; below lies a ridge smothered in snow and ice. I am trying all
I can with words of sweet persuasion to entice my companion, Colin
Phillip, down what is obviously the shortest route to the next peak, A
Chioch. But he says it is impossible, he will not trust himself on that
slope of snow and ice. Now my thoughts fly to the shores of Loch Earn.
I am listening to one, a geologist, who expounds to me the marvels of
the prehistoric glacier; he also, with words of sweet persuasion, is
trying to make me believe that Loch Morar was excavated by a glacier.
Those wonderful geological truths, how simple, how all-sufficient they
are to explain to the uninitiated the why and wherefore of the ancient
mountains; but put not your trust in them; they suffer by the process
of evolution, and are changed. Without doubt, in those days Phillip
believed that I was totally ignorant of mountaineering; whilst now,
perhaps, that geologist thinks that I am equally ignorant of the truth.
Whether it is the truth about Loch Morar that I mean, or about that
geologist's statement, or about my own, I really don't know.
In imagination I am hurried on; I see myself, footsore and weary,
wandering through Ardgour and Moidart, or across from Invercannich
through Affric's wild glens down to Shiel House, by the western sea;
now I am glissading down Beinn Alligin, or hacking my way through a
cornice, apparently hundreds of feet high, on Aonach Mor, my companion
Travers meanwhile slowly freezing on the brink of an _absolutely_
perpendicular ice slope, the daylight waning, and our retreat cut
off. Then comes a glimpse of the platform at Kingshouse station.
I am addressing winged words to Colin Phillip, and he is engaged
in a contentious refutation of my argument. The subject is not at
all interesting--only the comparative usefulness of painting and
photography as a means for reproducing mountain form; but the result
is most disgraceful, for presently we are seen sitting at different
ends of the platform waiting for the train, and thinking--well, it
doesn't matter what we thought. Was it yesterday, or when, that all
these things happened? Still it cannot be so very long ago that Phillip
climbed Sgurr Alasdair, the finest peak of the Coolin in Skye. Would
that on that occasion, just below the summit, I had possessed a camera,
for then could I have shown Phillip that photography at least was
capable of very faithfully reproducing his manly and superior form,
as he was seen approaching the cairn, even though it might be useless
in giving us the true proportions of inferior mountains. Neither do
I think that I should be overstepping the bounds of prudence should
I assert that Colin Phillip has a marked dislike for stone walls. I
have hopes, however, that some day a happy combination of the despised
camera--the stone wall and Phillip--may yield interesting results.
Little did Phillip think, that evening at Kingshouse, that a time would
come when the maligned camera would turn--turn its eye on Phillip and
on that stone wall--and wink with malicious pleasure.
But in spite of winged words, weary feet, and endless eggs and bacon,
these were fine times--from Sutherland to the Galloway Highlands, from
Mull to the mountains on Deeside, Colin Phillip and I have wandered in
fair weather and in foul.
We have waxed enthusiastic over the Cairngorm mountains. We have
watched the last light of day fade far away over the Atlantic behind
the islands of the west; and although we may have disagreed in many
things, yet we have always acknowledged that for wild beauty, for
colour, for atmospheric effects and lonely grandeur, we know of no
country that is equal to the Highlands of Scotland.
But a younger century has arrived, and
'The old order changeth, yielding place to new.'
Somewhere have I seen some remarks about the Coolin, where no mention
is made of the mountains as being capable of stirring the imagination
or gratifying the mind; no, the subject was 'the ridiculously easy
nature of the climbing in Skye,' 'the gabbro of the Coolin being too
good,' and so on, the New Mountaineer merely looking upon these peaks
and ribs of splintered rock as a useful spot where gymnastic feats
might be performed, and even compares the Coolin unfavourably with the
decomposing granite slabs at the head of Glen Sannox. Truly the glory
of the mountains is departing. The progressive, democratical[P] finger
of the 'New Mountaineer' is laid with equal irreverence and mockery
on Sgurr nan Gillean and Cir Mhor, and this spirit of irresponsible
criticism 'fulfils itself in many ways.' It is not the first time that
the Coolin have been 'slandered.' Have they not been called 'inferior
mountains'? (_Modern Painters_). Now the climbers 'run' over the
Pinnacle Ridge of Sgurr nan Gillean, and no doubt the next generation
(if they have wise fathers) will be induced to take their maternal
grandmothers up the inaccessible summit of Sgurr Dearg. One by one the
recollections of all our most cherished climbs will be punctured, flat
and unprofitable as a collapsed bicycle tire; they will rotate over the
rough roads of bygone memories, whilst that progressive democratical
finger will guide the new nickel-plated, pneumatic-cushioned,
electrically-driven modern mountaineer on his fascinating career.
But to return. I am still sitting in my comfortable arm-chair, and
looking at my own fingers to see whether they possess a progressive
democratical appearance.
Before me passes the vision of a mountain, a beautiful, many-headed
mountain, hidden away from democratical enemies of mountaineering,
and without the line of vulgarity. Carefully enclosed on its western
face lies a corrie named Coire Mhic Fhearchair. I see a party wandering
up its glacier-worn entrance. At its head the mist lies low down, but
not low enough to hide the precipices that encircle the lochan in its
centre. On the right, snow-filled gullies sweep with graceful curves
from a dome-shaped peak.
But it is the rock escarpment at the back of the corrie that fascinates
their gaze. As the mists begin to clear one by one, they suggest climbs
on its face, for there are 1250 feet of bare rock in front of them,
broken up into three distinct buttresses with two splendid gullies
dividing them. At last they choose the right-hand gully, and, having
roped themselves, proceed to cut steps up the steep snow that has
drifted into it and obliterated any perpendicular pitches there may
be. I am sorry that there are no perpendicular pitches--it is most
unfortunate; for I should like to see that party performing all these
daring feats so well known to, and beloved by, the professional rock
climber, 'How things began to look rather blue.' 'How for a minute or
two one of the party remained spread-eagled on the face of a cliff
almost despairing of getting up, the desired crack being a good two
feet out of reach, till, with a supreme effort, he was propelled from
below by a sudden and powerful jerk, his outstretched fingers seize the
desired crack.' Nor can I describe how 'the heavy man of the party, his
finger tips playing upon the face of the cliff with the delicacy of
touch of a professional pianist, his every movement suggestive of the
bounding lightness of the airy thistle-down,' followed. No, I am sorry
I have no such wildly exciting adventures to relate, nor such poetical
fancies wherewith to eke out a plain story. I see that party merely
climbing up that gully, in a most uninteresting yet simple manner, by
cutting steps. They come to where it ends against a perpendicular and
overhanging cliff at least a couple of hundred feet high. Only 200
feet, but higher they cannot go, for none of the party are sufficiently
muscular to propel the leader with a jerk upwards that paltry 200 feet.
Therefore they climb out to their left, along a narrow and somewhat
broken ledge, on to the middle buttress, where a place is found large
enough for them all to sit down. They gaze upwards at the last 300
feet that separate them from the summit, but it is steep, very steep,
'A.P.'[Q] Also, it is late in the afternoon; so they comfort themselves
by building a cairn, and eating all these delicious things that are
so good on a mountain-side--meat sandwiches which have remained from
lunch, and taste so full of mustard and so delightfully dry; old, old
prunes encrusted with all kinds of additional nutriment from the bottom
of some one's pocket; a much-worn stick of chocolate, or perhaps an
acidulated drop--on such fare does the hardy mountaineer feed. I see
them once more in the gully, but they descend more rapidly than they
climbed up it, for the more daring of the party glissade down the lower
part, and so home.
On the morrow, however, I see three of the party again setting forth
for that precipice. This time, instead of approaching it from the
north-west by the Allt Toll a'Ghiubhais, they hire a machine, and drive
as far as the foot of Sgurr Bàn on the southern side; then mounting to
the peak just to the west of Sgurr Bàn by a well-made deer path, they
soon arrive at the summit of the middle buttress, overlooking Coire
Mhic Fhearchair. They climb out to the very end of the nose and look
down, straight below, and only 300 feet away is the little cairn built
on the preceding afternoon, but, as I have remarked before, that 300
feet is very steep. A photograph taken from the most southerly of the
three buttresses, so as to get the middle buttress in profile, shows
the angle of the last 200 feet to be about 85 degrees, not quite but
very nearly 'A.P.' However, they think that they may as well see how
far they can descend. The rocks on the left-hand (southern) side of
the buttress are obligingly broken up, so that by a series of small
climbs the party are enabled to get from one small platform to the
next, always edging towards the outside of the buttress. At last they
all congregate together. A perpendicular slab, which has partly come
away from the front of the crags, bars their way to the right, and,
below, a quite perpendicular drop of about 200 feet on to the ledge
quietly but firmly impresses on them the fact that that way is not
for them. But always in mountaineering, just as things become quite
hopeless and 'blue,' then it is the duty of the person who describes
the adventure to appeal to the feelings of the public (who, presumably,
are unacquainted with that particular climb). It is his duty to picture
these unfortunate individuals, fearful that their retreat is cut off,
yet unable to proceed; how, having dangled on the ends of ropes,
swinging backwards and forwards in the breeze, they return to the ledge
baffled; or having climbed on each other's shoulders, they find 'the
desired crack two good feet out of reach,' and there is not always one
in the party powerful enough to 'propel' the leader 'from below by a
sudden and powerful jerk, so that he can with outstretched fingers
clutch that desired crack.' But still, with a little imagination, we
can see these things. A good imagination is necessary, I may say very
necessary, to the enthusiastic climber; much pleasure is otherwise lost.
The party I see, evidently has none of this precious imagination. They
are obviously wasting their opportunities most shamefully on that rock
face. I see one of them climb out on to the face just under the great
loose slab, and disappear round the corner; then the rest follow, and
find themselves on the topmost of a series of ledges, and about 200
feet above the small cairn below. I will not describe that traverse,
but will merely mention that the party seem quite pleased with it. Then
they begin the descent. First they get down a narrow slit between a
slab and the buttress, and with a drop of about 10 feet get into the
next ledge. Next they have to climb down another slab, bulging over
into space, or a perpendicular gully gives them an interesting piece
of climbing. About 120 feet from the bottom they build a small cairn,
and then, without much further difficulty, they finally find themselves
where they had ended their climb on the afternoon of the day before.
They do not, however, descend to the bottom of the gully, but about
half-way down, traversing out to the left, they make for the ridge
connecting Sail Mhòr with the rest of the mountain. It is now evening,
and I ought, if orthodox, here 'to burst out in sentences which swell
to paragraphs, and in paragraphs which spread over pages; to plunge
into ecstasies about infinite abysses and overpowering splendours, to
compare mountains to archangels, lying down in eternal winding-sheets
of snow, and to convert them into allegories about man's highest
destinies and aspirations. This is good when it is well done. Yet most
humble writers will feel that if they try to imitate Mr. Ruskin's
eloquence, they will pay the penalty of becoming ridiculous. It is
not every one who can with impunity compare Alps to archangels.'[R]
Yet there is always something about sunsets which is horribly
fascinating--from a literary point of view; it is so easy to become
suddenly enthusiastic and describe how 'The sun-god once more plunges
into the baths of ocean.' The sea too is always useful at such moments.
'Banks of sullen mist, brooding like a purple curtain,' etc., sounds
well; and one must not forget 'the shadows of approaching night,'--they
form a fitting background for the gloomy and introspective spirit
which ought to seize upon one at this particular psychological moment.
'The tumbled fragments of the hills, hoary with memories of forgotten
years,' come next, with a vague suggestion of solitude, which should be
further emphasised by allusions to 'the present fading away, and being
lost in the vast ocean of time, a lifetime being merely a shadow in the
presence of these changeless hills.' Then, to end up, mass the whole
together, and call it an 'inscrutable pageant'; pile on the shadows,
which must grow blacker and blacker, till 'naught remains but the mists
of the coming night and darkness'; and if you have an appropriate
quotation, put it in!
FOOTNOTES:
[P] 'They are still within the line of vulgarity, and are
_democratical_ enemies of truth,'--Browne's _Vulg. Errours_.
[Q] _Absolutely_ perpendicular.
[R] _The Playground of Europe._--Leslie Stephen.
THE OROMANIACAL QUEST
_To all ingeniously elaborate students in the most
divine mysteries of the oromaniacal quest: an
account in which is set forth the eminent secrets
of the adepts; whereunto is added a perfect and
full discoverie of the way to attaine to the
Philosopher's heavenly chaos._
'Whose noble practise doth them teach
To vaile their secrets wyth mystie speach.'
_The Hunting of the Greene Lyon._
After that the three most respectable Travellers and Searchers after
vast protuberances of the earth, in the land of the Caledones, had with
haste, joyousness, and precision arrived at those parts, where with
observation, snow-covered mountains together with rocks and ice in
abundance, and also many other things may be perceived which commend
themselves to true worshippers of that most mystagorical and delectable
pursuit--the oromaniacal Quest into the secret and hidden Mysteries
of sublime Mountains--they at once determined to so haste, walk, run,
climb, and otherwise betake themselves to the uppermost parts of the
hills, that by continual patience a new entrance towards the topmost
pinnacle should be discovered, which should in all respects yield that
quintessential pleasure they believed could be extracted from such
pursuit of the enigmatical Process.
There be, however, many who deny that the Quintessence of the true
enjoyment can so be attained. These indeed do maintain that it resides
in that subtill art, the striking of a ball violently with a stick, but
this also is a mystery; therefore I will not launch my little skiff
further into the wide ocean of the dispute, neither will I argue with
such fellows, for do they not offend philosophically, and therefore
should be admonished to the end that they meddle not with the Quest of
the true Brethren?
Thou askest, Why? I say thou hast not tasted of these things! Hast thou
not tarried with those that are below, or, ascending, hast thou not
proceeded upwards by help of mules, jackasses, and other auxiliaries,
or even in these swift, luxurious and delectable vehicles drawn by
the demon of water ten times heated in the furnace? I bid thee search
that treasure-house of clouds, fountains, fogs, and steep places on
thine own ten toes, and peradventure thou shalt find that which is
above resembleth not that which is beneath, neither are the high places
of the earth like unto the groves and hedgerows, or the places where
people do most congregate, in towns, villages, courts, gardens, to
the end that they may hold discourse, spagyrising, philosophising,
lanternising, whereby is the engendering of fools a most mystical
matter furthered--also the concocting of many poculations; truly
these fellows are vulgar tosspots, they attaine not the first Matter,
nor the whole operation of the Work; neither do they approach to the
enchanted Treasure-House sought for by that worthy Quintessencer and
most respectable Traveller, Master Beroalde of fragrant and delectable
memory.[S] Also are these fellows most injurious to well-deserving
Philosophers, for they comprehend not the writings, and through
'misunderstanding of the possibilities of Nature do commit foul
mistakes in their operations, and therefore reap a ridiculous harvest.'
Our Record is writ neither for simple, vulgar, and pitiful sophisters,
nor for such owls, bats, and night-birds, who, blinded by the full
light of the Quest lye hidden in gloomy nooks, crannies, and holes
below.
But return we to our purpose. When our three travellers had arrived
at that place in the northland, hight Castrum Guillelmi, they tarried
there awhile seeking diligently if perchance even in that place the
great Mysterie, the quintessential Pleasure of devout Philosophers,
could by searching be attained. 'Good,' said they; 'Now are we near
the Fulfilment, the Entrance into Secret Places, the Consummation,
the Marriage of the Impossible with the Real, the Knowledge of this
Mastery.' So it came to pass that on the day following, early and with
great joyousness, did they start forth by the straight road.
Nor did they issue forth unprepared, for they bore with them the
proper, peculiar, fit, exact, and lawful insignia of the brotherhood,
a mystic thread, coiled even as the sable serpent, likewise staves
curiously shapen did they take in their hands, for 'peradventure,' said
they, 'the way may be steep and full of toil, the dangers many; behold
go we not forth in a savage land, where liveth the white dragon and eke
basilisks, spoken of by the ingenious J. J. Scheuchzerus, doctor of
medicine, what time he did wander in the far country of the Helvetii?
Good, now come we to it! for saith not Aristotle in his _Physicks_,
"_Ab actionibus procedit speculatio_," "Now are all things propitious,
let us seek the Delphinian oracle"; Phoebus like unto the fiery Dragon
shines bravely, conquering the hydropical vapours and transforming
them into subtill aerial sublimations; soon shall we come to the high
places where abideth the great water the Lochan Meal an't Suidhe. It
shall we leave on the dexter hand, for the path lieth not there but
onwards, straight without twist or turn along the valley at the feet of
the red Mountains, whose hue is multiplied, transmuted, and purified
even unto seven times seven, a wonder to the sight, and tincted by the
ruddy colour of Sol the golden, what time he goeth down at eventide,
slavering the deep waters of the western sea so that they be all of a
gore bloud.'
But let not these things turn us from the true Quest, the hidden
Mysteries, which in the opinion of the vulgar rude are by many deemed
nought but delusions. For over against and opposite across the
valley, abideth the Immensity of greatness, the majestic Silence, the
prodigious Dampness, the Depth, in shape like a great Dome, whereof the
base is in the Flouds and the Waters, whence issueth forth delectable
springs welling up for ever, continually ascending yet ever flowing
downwards; here perchance shall we find the Mysterie of the heavenly
Chaos, and the great Abyss, the way to attaine to Happiness, even the
quintessential mystagorical Delight and oromaniacal Quest, so highly
extolled yet so deeply concealed by the true Philosophers.
Thus did they fare onward toward the midst of the valley placed
between the red Hill and the great Mountain. Then behold before
them rose hugeous rocks and bulky stones standing on end facing to
the north where the ice and snow tarry from one winter even unto the
following; for in those places the sun shines not, neither are found
the comfortable, soft, juicy, and foeculent breezes of the South;
there the brood of the black Crow and the white smoak or vapour, and
comprehensive congelations of the Mistus Scotorum are produced. So
were the Brethren sore amazed, but as yet could not see even the first
matter of the Work.
'See,' said one, 'the way leadeth upward where the Spirit arising
like unto a volatisation, a separation or sublimation or wind, has
much bewhited the mighty petrolific ridge full of points towers and
pinnacles. There the pursuit may be pursued, there the volatisation
which is an ascension may be compleatly demonstrated, and the operation
of the great Work may be begun. First must we fashion in the snow and
ice great stairs of steps, by aid of which, through prolongation,
extension, reduplication, and multiplication shall we be brought on to
the Ridge even at the beginning.' So did they enter upon the Work in
this lowest period of obscurity, multiplying the steps in a certain
mystic manner which had been revealed to them; and it came to pass
that they attained at last on to the Ridge, whereon might be perceived
far above, towers, pinnacles, points, and other pleasant places,
suitable and useful for the furtherance of the Quest.
First did they traverse a narrow edge of snow fashioned by the wind.
Then said one, 'Follow me, but look not either to the right or to
the left, for there lyeth the Abyss.' So they followed him, with the
mystic thread fastened to their girdles. They saw how that, far above,
the heavens were separated from the white snow, which was curled and
twisted, also falling, overhanging, and extended, so that they could
perceive no way whereby they might pass through.
But above and beyond lay the summit of the great Mountain, where clouds
are concocted in the natural furnace; there also may be seen in the
proper season, 'The whole operation of the Sons of Wisdom, the great
Procession and the Generation of Storms, the Marriage of the Stars and
the Seven Circulations of the Elements.' So did they fare onwards; and
by inspection were they aware how others had travelled on the same way,
for on the stones and rocks were certain petrographical scratchings
and curious markings deeply graven and very evident. But presently
came they to a great Rock, a majestic Tower. Here were they perforce
compelled to depart to the right hand, placing themselves in steep and
perilous positions on slopes of ice, which downwards seemed to end in
empty air, even in the great void.
Then were the Three exceeding joyful, for is it not written in the
secret books of the Brethren, Many operations must they perform amidst
the great mountains and the snowy ice, especially and creditably, ere
they be so transmuted, mystagorified and metagrabolised, that they
may be numbered with the True, the Pious, the Elect, even amongst
those who are considered worthy of the most mystical and allegorical
symbol, A.C., by many variously interpreted. For some hold that it
signifies, 'Adepti Cragorum,' whilst others 'Angelorum Confederatio,'
for these latter maintain that the Quest can only be rightly pursued,
or satisfactorily continued, by the aid of wings; but in this matter
they are deceived, and argue foolishly after the wisdom of the flesh.
Still all things have an end at last--good Wine, Pinnacles, Spires,
cabalistic Emblems, and oromaniacal Wanderings, even the green sauce
of the Philosophers and the pythagoric Mustard of the Great Master
himself, spoken of by Alcofribas Nasier in his merrie work. So did the
Three find the perilous passage across the headlong steep of that
ruinous place finish.
Then did they pass onward to the Labyrinth, the rocky chaos, and
greatly did they marvel at the exceeding steepness thereof; so that
only by great perseverance, turning now to the left and now to the
right, were they able to break themselves free from the bonds and
entanglements, and climb sagaciously upwards to the summit of the
great Tower. Whereon did they find a heaped up accumulation of stones
curiously erected, a cabalistic Pyramid, set there doubtless by a
former seeker in the Work, to the end that true searchers might not
despair, but continue the matter of the Work with fresh hope and
industry. But when they had gazed for a short space, they perceived how
that the Consummation, the great Fulfilment, was nigh at hand. Behind
and far below, imprinted in the snow, were the steps by which they had
mounted upwards, winding now this way, now that, looking like scarce
seen veins in whitest marble. But before them lay the narrow Way, the
Ridge, the Cleft, and the White Slope, leading even unto the utmost
Height, the sovereign Summit of the mightie Mountain. Thither therefore
did their footsteps trend.
First did they pass along the narrow Way, treading with exceeding care
and exactness, for there was but foothold for one alone; the path
being no broader than a man's hand. Next did they descend into the
Cleft, which thing is also emblematical and symbolical of the precious
secret of all Philosophies, for without this key can no one unlock the
Hermetic Garden, the Arcanum of the Alchemists, spoken of by Paracelsus
in his _Archidoxis_.
Now before them stretched the white Slope, which lay beneath the
topmost summit, and steeper became the path, going upwards with a
great steepness; now whilst the three Travellers did toil and seek,
endeavouring to meet the perils of the way, yet almost despairing, lo!
from out the clouds a thread descended and a voice was heard afar off:
'Fear not, now have ye attained to the Consummation, enter into the
mystagorical, quintessential, and delectable Pleasure-House of devout
Oromaniacs!'
Thus therefore do the true Philosophers distinguish that which is
superior from that which is inferior, for it is a thing deeply
concealed by the envious, let therefore the same be thy subject to work
upon, thy first Basis, for the white must first come out of the red,
and black following with multiplicative virtue rise above according to
the nature of all things. Hear then the meaning of the four Degrees.
Thy first Degree maketh to sweat but gently. In the second much travail
followeth, whereby thy sweat increaseth, whilst _tertius excedit et
cum tolerantia laedit_, for our way ascendeth speedilie where the
black rocks fall and rise continually. Congelation and Circulation
cometh next, when in the fourth Degree the blackness wears away,
which, believe me, is a gallant sight. 'Then shalt thou see thy Matter
appear, shining, sparkling, and white even like to a most glorious
heaven-born Mercury the subject of wonders. Then if thou art fortunate
shall the fumes cease and our congelation will glitter incomparably
and wonderfully, and thickening more and more it will sprout like the
tender frost in a most amiable lustre. Now thou needest no further
instruction, only this let me tell you, understand this well, and you
will not be amazed any longer with the distinction of our Operations.
For all is but a successive action and passion of him who seeks for
the Work. Which carrying him up and down like a wheel, returns thither
whence it proceeded, and then beginneth again and turns so long till it
finds its rest. So he thus attains a _plusquam_ perfection through the
marvellous co-operation of Art and Nature.'[T]
'Who knoweth not this in knowledge is blind,
He may forth wander as mist in the wind,
Wotting never with profit where to light,
Because he understands not our words aright.'
Therefore, with what joy, think you, did the Three progress onward
after the long and troublous ascent? After _scrambling_,
_slipping, gathering,_
_pulling, talking,_
_pushing, stepping,_
_lifting, grumbling,_
_gasping, anathematising,_
_looking, scraping,_
_hoping, hacking,_
_despairing, bumping,_
_climbing, jogging,_
_holding on, overturning,_
_falling off, hunting,_
_trying, straddling,_
_puffing, and at last_
_loosing, attaining,_
for know ye that by these methods alone are the most divine Mysteries
of the Quest reached.
So at last they came even unto the very topmost Point, and were
aware how that Priests from the heavenly Temple, which is placed on
the top of that Mountain, had come forth to guide them, without
further difficulty, across a level plain of white snow to the gates
of the Temple itself. But the perils of the way were not ended. At
the threshold were there many steps leading down and underground to
the Temple's innermost recesses, through a domed vault or doorway
built of the plastered snow. Now were these steps both slippery and
very treacherous, having been fashioned in a truly sopho-spagyric
manner, likewise did they seem reduplicated and multiplied even by the
Pythagorical Tetrad. Moreover, above the portal were there magical
characters engraven, even after the same fashion as those seen by the
wise Pantagruel what time he sought the Oracle of the Bottle in the
land of Lanterns.
But beyond the portal a very thick mistie and cimmerian darkness, an
eclipsation, apprehended them, and the Three did stumble now this way
and now that, so did they greatly fear even at this very end of their
Quest, that beasts and creeping things of monstrous shape awaited them,
dangers far worse than those on the steep places of the Mountain.
'Art thou here?' said one. 'Prithee guide my steps!' quoth another.
'Alas, we are undone!' cried a third. 'Zoons, why are ye afraid?'
answered a voice; 'when ye have passed the three-square Corner and the
Darkness ye are safe in the Sanctum Sanctorum even of the Elect, in the
Philosopher's heavenly Chaos, where may ye understand all Mysteries.
But first answer ye me, whence come ye?' 'From without and below.' 'And
how?' 'By the seven-fold stairs nigh unto the great Abyss where liveth
the brood of the black Crow, and the engendering of the Mistus Scotorum
proceedeth perpetually.' 'Good, but how did ye proceed?' 'Thence came
we by the rocky Labyrinth, and by the perilous Passage to the great
Tower, and the mystic Pyramid, which is set on the further side of
the narrow Way and the Cleft, emblematic of hidden things; thence by
the white Slope to the topmost Summit. So have we sought the divine
mysteries of this great Quest with much toil, so may we attaine to the
Philosopher's heavenly Chaos.'
Then said the voice, 'Enter into the abode of Knowledge, through
the open Entrance to the shut Palace of the King,[U] into the outer
chamber of the most sophistical Retreat of the Sons of Wisdom, where
are perpetually and endlessly produced many reasonable meteorological
prognostications; also divinations, concentrations, observations, and
conglomerations are recorded in divers registers, all of them most
deducible, for are they not stored with great care in sundry leathern
bags for the delectation of wise men? Thou hast been led as it were by
the hand through many a desert and waste spot, now lift up your eyes
and behold where you are; welcome into the garden of the Philosophers,
which is walled about with a very high wall.' So were they shown by
the dwellers in the Temple many and marvellous wonders. In the centre
stood a furnace for all transmutations and agitations by heat; whilst
on shelves did they see great store of divers bottles, pans, boxes,
and bags, wherein could be found succulent sauces and philosophical
essences, to the end that the delectable concoctions of the pious might
be completed.
Likewise great numbers of books. In some could be found treatises
of the true science, also devices, hieroglyphic interpretations
and perspicuous renderings of great wisdom, in others histories of
joyous diversions. Also were there 'curious and ingenious engines
for all sorts of motions, where were represented and imitated all
articulate sounds and letters, and conveyed in trunks and strange
lines and distances. Also helps for the sight representing things afar
off in the heavens and remote places, as near, and making feigned
distances.'[V] Likewise mathematical instruments, exquisitely made, for
the discovering of small and minute bodies in the air. 'Also divices
for natural divination of tempests, great inundations, temperatures of
the yeare and diverse other things.'[W] Also were they shown many and
marvellous things pertaining to the harmony of the heavenly spheres.
Then did they drink the mixed draught, the comfortable potation,
joyously, philosophically, and with discernment, for at last had they
attained to the divine Secrets of the Philosophers, even unto the
mystagorical Delight, the great Fulfilment of the Spagyrick Quest of
devout Oromaniacs.
FOOTNOTES:
[S] The Spagyric Quest of Beroaldus Cosmopolita.
[T] _The First Gate._ By the Chanon of Bridlington.
[U] Introitus apertus ad occlusum Regis palatium.
[V] _The New Atlantis._ F. Bacon.
[W] _Ibid._
FRAGMENT FROM A LOST MS.,
PROBABLY BY ARISTOTLE, ENTITLED, [Greek: peri athlêtikês, k.t.l.];
OR A TREATISE CONCERNING THE SPORTS AND PASTIMES OF
THE ATHENIAN YOUTH WITH REGARD TO THEIR ETHICAL
SIGNIFICANCE.
We come now to investigate the position of the mountaineer, or climber
of hills. Now, we may rightly call him the true mountaineer or climber
of hills, who possesses the true love of mountain climbing, which,
being a mean between two extremes, may be fitly termed a virtue. First,
indeed, it is right to call the love of mountain climbing an active
virtue, and not one of contemplation, for to no one is the ascent of a
hill possible by contemplation alone; still, the virtue of a mountain
climber is for a truth not wholly active, but is partly contemplative,
as we shall show further on.
Moreover, the love of hill climbing, like fortitude or other virtues,
has its defects, its mean, and its excess. Now, as we have said, virtue
being a mean of which the extremes are the excess or the deficiency, he
who is defective in this matter is one who either has not this love of
climbing, or is indifferent in the matter; this man, indeed, is pitied
by the hill climber, and indeed may be called the 'irrational man.' Now
by the 'irrational man' we do not mean him who is unreasonable without
qualification, but rather the man who is possessed of unreason from the
point of view of the mountaineer, and truly amongst 'irrational men'
are to be found the fathers of families, many learned men and others.
Moreover, the 'irrational man' prefers rather to ascend hills by means
of the telescope, or in a railway train, and if interrogated on the
subject, expresses great scorn for those who rise at midnight, or in
the early hours of the morning, for the purpose of imperilling their
lives on the end of a rope. Again, he goes not to places where there
are no hostels, alleging that he likes to be comfortable and enjoy
himself. The scarcity of inns, however, in mountainous countries is a
matter which, in these times, has in some few instances been remedied,
for we are credibly informed that on the topmost summit of the lofty
Mount Snowdon, in the Principality of Wales, an hostel exists, where
the 'irrational man' may find gratification for his baser appetites,
and perhaps may also at the same time experience, in a limited manner,
that happiness which in its full degree is experienced by the true
lover of hill climbing, whom we may call the 'mountaineer.'[X]
Further, the 'irrational man' is inclined often to treat the adventures
of the 'mountaineer' as travellers' tales, but in this respect he
is unable rightly to distinguish between the true climber of hills
and the 'pseudo-mountaineer' who haunts the smoking-rooms of certain
hostels. This man climbs, but in imagination only. He will relate how
he has ascended certain high and difficult, nay, even inaccessible
peaks, and will brand the names of many hills on staves, that when he
returns to his native land he may win much reverence. But although
the 'pseudo-mountaineer' pretends to greater things than he has
accomplished, and is, therefore, a depraved person, on the whole,
perhaps, he appears more a vain than a bad man, for it is not for the
sake of money that he would have the unwary traveller and the people of
his nation believe his stories, but for the sake of honour and glory,
which in itself is praiseworthy.
Now both the 'pseudo-mountaineer' and the 'irrational man' err by way
of defect, being indifferent to the true joys of mountaineering. But
the 'mountaineer' is he who has this virtue in the right measure. He
delights not in climbing this hill or that, but in climbing itself.
He loves to wander in mountainous lands; ascents of great mountains,
clad in frozen snow, to him are not unprofitable. Mountain-huts
ill-ventilated, nights spent under rocks, amidst snow, wind, mist, or
rain, these things will he endure. Moreover, to help him, will he even
pay much money to the more hardy inhabitants of the hills, who are able
to guide him with skill and safety through the inhospitable fastnesses,
which he loves to explore. Thus much knowledge will he gain, making
observations on the heights of hills, the efficacy of meat lozenges,
the movement of glaciers by day, and the _pulex irritans_ by night. He
is a searcher after sensations. But when, owing to misfortune, he finds
that his desire for climbing is in inverse ratio to his opportunity for
so doing, then will he spend his leisure hours in adorning his maps
with red lines, or he will write papers, yea, even books, describing
his former exploits, so that perchance other 'mountaineers' may receive
benefit therefrom.
But, as we have already said, the love of mountain climbing, like
fortitude and other virtues, has its mean and its defect; as to the
mean, we have seen that it is the virtue of the 'mountaineer,' whilst
the defect constitutes the habit of the 'pseudo mountaineer' and the
'irrational man.' But the extreme is found in the man who has the
desire to climb hills out of all reason, therefore we call him the
'oromaniac,' or he who is incontinent in the matter. He it is who
ascends hills on the wrong side, and cares not to travel in the line
of least resistance; also should he hear that a pinnacle of rock is
inaccessible, he is at once seized with a great desire to climb that
pinnacle. For he climbs not mountains for the exercise, or the love
of climbing itself, but for the mere base desire to beat all records
or to outdo an enemy, or that he may see his name blazoned in the
local papers. And not unfrequently do accidents befall such an one,
and he hurts himself grievously; hence come those accidents which we
may call indefinite, for of this kind of accident there is often no
definite cause, for the cause of it is casual, and that is indefinite.
Thus such an one may have fallen. Now if it was not his intention so
to do, and he either slipped or was otherwise moved in a direction
suddenly downwards, it happened accidentally. The accident, therefore
was generated, and is, but not so far as itself is, but as something
else is. Moreover, in this kind of accident, as we have already stated,
it often happens that the 'oromaniac' suffers many woes; breaking
sometimes a limb, or, if still more unfortunate, his neck, or he
suffers mutilation[Y] in respect to his garments. Again, accidents may
be called that which is inherent to something, and of which something
may be truly asserted; as for instance, if any one going up one
mountain in a mist should, after much fatigue, find himself at the
summit of another, the ascent would be an accident to him who climbs
the mountain. Nor, if any one climbs one mountain, does he for the
most part climb another. Accident is after another manner denominated,
that which essentially belongs--'The inseparable,' for instance, the
mountains themselves. Hence, indeed, it happens that accidents of
this kind are perpetual, which is not the case with any others. Now
concerning the love of mountain climbing, and the excess and deficiency
thereof, as well as the mean which is also a virtue, and concerning
also accidents both separable and inseparable of mountain climbing, let
this suffice.
FOOTNOTES:
[X] The great Lexicographer defines the word as 'an inhabitant of the
mountains, a savage, a freebooter, a rustick.' Can the word be here
used in this sense?
[Y] Of the mutilated we have spoken elsewhere. 'A man is mutilated
when some part is taken away, and this not any part indifferently, but
which, when wholly taken away, cannot again be generated. Hence, men
that are bald are not mutilated.'--_Metaphysics_, Book v. chap. xxvii.
NOTES ON THE HIMALAYAN MOUNTAINS
The great flood of the Indus in 1841 seems to have been one of the most
tremendous cataclysms recorded as having occurred on the continent
of India. The exact reason of it was for many years unknown. Major
Cunningham suggested that it was due to the bursting of an ice-dammed
lake on the Shayok river. Major Becher seems, however, to have been
the first who expressed a belief that it was caused by a landslip
blocking the Indus near Gor. In a letter (_Journ. Asiat. Soc. Bengal_,
vol. xxviii. p. 219) he writes that a mountain called Ultoo Kunn, near
Gor, owing to an earthquake, subsided into the valley of the main
Indus. Drew, in his book on Kashmir (p. 415), gives the following
description: 'The flood of 1841 was in this wise. It occurred, as near
as I can make out, in the beginning of June of that year. At Atak, a
place twelve or fifteen miles below where the latitude-parallel of 34°
crosses the Indus, the river had been observed during several months,
indeed from December of the previous year onwards, to be unusually
low; in the spring it had risen a little from the snow melting, but
only a little, so that at the end of May (when in ordinary years the
volume has greatly increased) it was still extraordinarily low. This
in itself should have been enough to warn the people who dwelt by its
banks, but so little was it thought of that a portion of the Sikh army
was encamped on the low plain of Chach which bordered the river. One
day in the beginning of June, at two in the afternoon, the waters were
seen by those who were there encamped to be coming upon them, down
the various channels, and to be swelling out of these to overspread
the plain in a dark, muddy mass, which swept everything before it.
The camp was completely overwhelmed; five hundred soldiers at once
perished; only those who were within near reach of the hill-sides
could hope for safety. Neither trees nor houses could avail to keep
those surprised in the plain out of the power of the flood, for trees
and houses themselves were swept away; every trace of cultivation
was effaced; and the tents, the baggage, and the artillery, all were
involved in the ruin. The result was graphically described by a native
eye-witness, whose words were, "As a woman with a wet towel sweeps away
a legion of ants, so the river blotted out the army of the Raja."'
Drew was probably the first to actually visit the place where the
block occurred. And a villager from Gor pointed out to him the exact
spot where the debris of the landslip blocked the river. These floods
seem to be of somewhat frequent occurrence. In 1844 one came from the
Tshkoman valley above Gilgit. In 1858 another did great damage at
Naushahra. The Indus at Attock (Atak) on 10th August was very low.
In the early morning it rose ten feet in two hours, and five hours
later it had risen no less that fifty feet, and continued rising till
it stood no less than ninety feet higher than in the morning. It is
probable that this flood came from the Hunza valley.
Smaller floods in the narrow Himalayan valleys are of frequent
occurrence. For instance at Tashing, in 1850, a large lake was formed
in the Rupal nullah by the snout of the Tashing glacier crossing the
valley till it was jammed against the rock wall on the opposite side,
thus blocking the Rupal torrent. Probably this will again happen, for
when we were there in 1895 the Tashing glacier had once more blocked
the valley to the depth of at least 200 feet, the Rupal stream finding
its way underneath the ice; should this passage become in any way
stopped, a huge lake must at once form behind the glacier.
The extreme narrowness, and often the great depth, of many of these
Himalayan valleys will always be favourable to the production of
these floods. Should a landslip occur, or should a glacier, such as
the Tashing glacier, block the valley, a flood must be the inevitable
result. On the Indus there are many places where a dam might easily be
formed. In the bend underneath Haramosh, at Lechre under Nanga Parbat,
or further down below Chilas in that unknown country where the Indus
begins to flow in a southerly direction. For there on the map the Indus
is made to flow between two peaks, _not three miles apart_: one is
marked 16,942 feet, and the other 15,250 feet, thus making the depth of
this ravine over 12,000 feet.
LIST OF SOME OF THE MOUNTAINS IN THE HIMALAYA
THAT ARE OVER 24,000 FEET IN HEIGHT
The following list of mountains that are more than 24,000 feet has been
taken from various maps. It gives most of the peaks that have been
trigonometrically measured, but probably there are at least as many
more in those great mountain ranges, the Hindu Kush, the Mustagh, the
Kuen Lun, and the Himalaya, that are over 24,000 feet high.
The next highest peak in the world outside Asia is Aconcagua, 23,393
feet high.
Feet.
Devadhunga, Gaurisanka, or Mt. Everest, in Nepaul, 29,002
K^{2} in the Mustagh range, 28,278
Kanchenjunga (1), north peak in Sikkim, 28,156
Kanchenjunga (2), south peak, 27,815
5 Makalu, S.E. of Devadhunga, 27,799
Dhaolagiri (1), in Nepaul, 26,826
Unnamed peak N.W. of Katmandu, 26,680
Nanga Parbat, or Diama, in Kashmir, 26,629
Unnamed peak N. of Pokra Nepaul 26,522
10 K^{1} in the Mustagh range, 26,483
Hidden peak in the Mustagh range, 26,470
Gusherbrum (1), in the Mustagh range, 26,360
Gosai Than, N.E. of Katmandu, 26,305
Gusherbrum (2), 26,103
15 Unnamed, N. of Pokra Nepaul, 26,069
Gusherbrum (3), 26,016
Unnamed peak, N.W. Katmandu, 25,818
Unnamed peak, N.W. Katmandu, 25,729
Masherbrum (1), in the Mustagh range, 25,676
20 Nanda Devi (1), in Kumaon, 25,661
Masherbrum (2), 25,660
Nanga Parbat or Diama (2), 25,586
Rakipushi, in Kashmir, 25,550
Unnamed, N. of Hispar glacier, Mustagh range, 25,503
25 Unnamed, N. of Hispar glacier, 25,493
Dhaolagiri (2), 25,456
Ibi Gamin, or Kamet, in Kumaon, 25,443
K^{10}, in the Mustagh range, 25,415
Boiohagurdaonas (1), N.W. of Hunza, 25,370
30 Jannu, in Sikkim, 25,304
K^{11} in the Mustagh range, 25,210
Nubra peak (1), N. of Leh, Mustagh range, 25,183
K^{6} in the Mustagh range, Chogolisa peak, 25,119
Bride peak, Baltoro glacier, Mustagh range, 25,110
35 Dhaolagiri (3), 25,095
Boiohagurdaonas (2), 25,050
Unnamed, N. of Pokra Nepaul, 24,780
Nubra Peak (2), 24,698
Tirach Mir (1), N. of Chitral Hindu Kush, 24,611
40 Unnamed, near Rakipushi, Kashmir, 24,470
Muz Tagh Ata, Pamirs, 24,400
Nanda Devi (2) (Nanda Kot), 24,379
K^{12} in the Mustagh range, 24,352
Tirich Mir (2), 24,343
45 Unnamed, N. of Katmandu Nepaul, 24,313
Haramosh, near Gilgit Kashmir, 24,270
Boiohagurdaonas (3), 24,044
Unnamed, S. of Devadhunga, Nepaul, 24,020
Kabru, in Sikkim, 24,015
50 Chumaliri, in Bhutan, 24,000
Aling Gangri, in Tibet, 24,000
K^{9} in the Mustagh range, 24,000
LITERATURE DEALING WITH THE HIMALAYA
Bogle, G., Account of Tibet. Philosophical Transactions, No. 67,
part 2, and Annual Register, 1778.
Turner, Capt. S., Account of an Embassy to the Court of the
Teshoo Lama, in Tibet, 1 vol., 1806.
Webb and Raper, Journey to explore the sources of the Ganges.
Asiatic Researches, vol. x.
Colebrooke, H., On the height of the Himala Mountains. Asiatic
Researches, vol. xi.
Moorcroft, W., Journey to the Lake Mánasarówara. Asiatic
Researches, vol. xii.
Kirkpatrick, Col. W., An Account of the Kingdom of Nepaul,
1 vol., 1811.
Hamilton, Francis, M.D., An Account of the Kingdom of
Nepal, 1 vol., 1819.
Fraser, J. B., Tour through part of the Snowy Range of the
Himalya Mountains, 1 vol., 1820.
Hodgson, B. H., Essays on Nepál and Tibet, etc., 2 vols., 1874;
also no less than 170 papers to various periodicals, chiefly
the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal. Cp. Report
on the Mineralogical Survey of the Himala Mountains.
J. A. S. B. xi., part 1, p. x.
Vigne, G. T., Travels in Cashmir, Ladak, etc., 2 vols., 1835.
Thomson, T., M.D., Western Himalaya and Tibet, 1 vol., 1852.
Moorcroft, W. and G. Trebeck, Travels in the Himalayan
Provinces, etc., 2 vols., 1841.
Gerard, Capt. A., Account of Koonawur, in the Himalaya, 1 vol.,
1841.
Gerard and Lloyd, Tours in the Himalaya, 2 vols., 1840.
Cunningham, Sir A., Ladák, Physical, Statistical, and Historical,
1 vol., 1854.
Strachey, R., Physical Geography of Kumaon and Gurhwal and
the adjoining parts of Tibet. R. G. S. Journal, xxi., p. 57.
Strachey, Capt. H., Physical Geography of Western Tibet.
R. G. S. Journal, xxiii., p. 2, published separately, 1 vol.,
1854; also Journey to Lake Mánasarówar, 1 vol., 1848.
'Mountaineer' (Wilson), A Summer Ramble in the Himalayas
and Cashmere, 1 vol., 1860.
Hooker, Sir J. D., Himalayan Journals, 2 vols., 1854.
Saunders, Trelawny W., Sketch of the Mountains and River
Basins of India, in two maps, with explanatory memoirs.
Geographical Department, India Office, 1870.
Gordon, Lieut.-Col. T. E., The Roof of the World, 1 vol., 1876.
Wilson, Andrew, The Abode of Snow, 1 vol., 1875.
Indian Alps and How we Crossed Them. By a Lady Pioneer,
1 vol., 1876.
Markham, Clements R., A Memoir on the Indian Surveys, 1
vol., 1871; 2nd ed., 1878.
Montgomerie, Major T. G., Reports on the Trans-Himalayan
Explorations, 1865-1867, 1869, and 1871 (Indian Survey).
Shaw, R., Visits to High Tartary, Yârkand, and Kâshgar,
1 vol., 1871.
Torrens, Lieut.-Col. H. D., Travels in Ladak, Tartary, and
Kashmir, 1 vol., 1862.
Bellew, Dr. H. W., Kashmir and Kashgar, 1 vol., 1875.
Drew, F., Jummoo and Kashmir Territories, 1 vol., 1875.
Bogle, G., and T. Manning, Narratives of their Journeys to
Tibet and Lhasa, edited by Clements R. Markham, 1 vol.,
1876.
Godwin-Austen, Col. H. H., Royal Geographical Society Journal,
vol. xxxiv., p. 19.
Knight, Capt., Diary of a Pedestrian in Cashmere and Tibet,
1 vol., 1863.
Schlagintweit, H. and B., The Last Journeys and Death of
Adolph Schlagintweit, 1854.
Conway, Sir W. M., Climbing in the Karakoram Himalayas,
1 vol., 1894.
Knight, E. F., Where Three Empires Meet, 1 vol., 1893.
MacCormick, A. D., An Artist in the Himalayas, 1 vol., 1895.
Waddell, L. A., Among the Himalayas, 1 vol., 1899.
Younghusband, F. E., The Heart of a Continent, 1 vol., 1896.
Boeck, K., Indische Gletcherfahrten, 1900.
Deasy, H. H. P., In Tibet and Chinese Turkestan, 1 vol., 1901.
Durand, A., Making of a Frontier, 1 vol., 1900.
Holdich, Col. Sir T. H., Indian Borderland, 1 vol., 1901.
Bose, P. N., Glaciers of Kabru, 1 vol., 1901.
Workman, Mrs. F. B. and Dr. W. H., In the Ice-World of
Himalaya, 1 vol., 1900.
INDEX
A
A^{21}. See Mount Monal.
A^{22}, 17, 18.
Achill Island, cliffs of, 233.
A Chuilionn, 211. See Coolin Hills.
Alberta, Mount, 149.
Alps, The, mountaineering in, 165 _et seq._
Assiniboine group of mountains, 143, 145.
Astor, 43, 123, 126.
Astor valley, road down, 126.
Athabasca pass, 144.
Avalanche of stones, 72.
B
Bagrot nullah explored, 20.
Baker, Mount, 140.
Balfour group of mountains, 144, 146.
Ball group of mountains, 143, 145.
Baltoro glacier ascended, 15, 21, 22.
---- ---- survey of the, 15.
Bandipur, 32.
Baramula, 28.
Bear, red, 45, 62.
Been Keragh, 237, 240.
Ben Eighe, climb on, 274 _et seq._
Ben Nevis, ascent of Tower Ridge of, 288 _et seq._;
observatory on summit of, 296.
Biafo glacier, 21, 24.
Blanc, Mont, ascent of, by Brenva route, 175.
Bogle, G., Mission to Tibet, 8.
Boss, Emil, 17.
Bow range, 143.
Brandon, 237, 240.
Brown, Mount, 149.
Bruce, Major C. G., 20, 21, 23;
ascents near Chitral, 23;
do. near Hunza, 23;
do. near Nagyr, 23;
do. of Ragee-Bogee peaks, 23;
meets us at Tashing, 68;
returns to Abbottabad, 81;
climbing in the Alps by, 178.
Buldar nullah, 123.
Bullock-Workman, Mount, ascent of, 24.
---- Dr. and Mrs., climbing in Ladak and Suru by, 24.
Butesharon glacier, 80;
pass, 81.
Bunar Post, 132.
Burzil or Dorikoon pass, 34.
Bush peak, 147.
C
Caher, 237, 240.
Camping, 154, 182.
Canada, size of, 136.
Carran Tuohill, 237, 239.
Chiche peak, 42;
glacier, ascent of, 49.
Chilas, 26;
road to, 127.
---- tribesmen, raids by, 40.
Chongra peaks, 43, 119, 123.
Choonjerma pass, 11.
Chorit, 36.
Collier, J., 253, 259.
Columbia group of mountains, 144, 148.
---- Mount, 148.
---- river, 141.
Connemara, the twelve Bens of, 236.
Conway, Sir W. Martin, mountain exploration by, 20, 21, 23.
Coolin Hills, appearance and description of, 217 _et seq._, 234.
Coomacarrea, 241.
Coomacullen, Lough, 241.
Croaghann, 233.
Crystal peak ascended, 21.
D
Daranshi Saddle climbed, 21.
Dashkin, 123.
Dasskaram needle ascended, 21.
Devadhunga, 9, 11, 12, 20, 24.
Dhaltar peaks, ascent of, 23.
Diama glacier, 116;
pass, 116, 120.
Diamirai glacier explored, 62, 82.
---- nullah, 59;
camp in, 61;
return to, 81;
storm in, 111;
upper camp in, 83, 109, 113;
leave, 116;
last visit to, 133.
---- pass crossed, 64.
---- peak, 88;
view from slopes of, 91;
summit of, 97;
south-west arête of, 100.
Dichil peak, 72, 123.
Divide, Great, 140, 142.
Doian, 126.
Dome peak, 148.
Donegal, 227.
Donkia pass, 12, 16.
Drew, 14.
Dunagiri, 16;
attempted ascent of, 17.
E
Elias, Mount St., 136.
Everest. See Devadhunga.
F
Forbes Group of Mountains, 144, 147.
Forsyth, 213.
Fortress Lake pass, 144.
Fraser river, 140;
canyon, 141.
Freshfield, D., Tour of Kanchenjunga, 24.
---- Mount, 147.
G
Ganalo nullah crossed, 118;
glacier, 119;
camp in, 119.
---- peak, 82, 116, 124.
Garhwal, 9.
Garwood, E., 24.
Gerard, Captain, ascents by, 11.
Gjeitgaljar, 192;
ascent of, 204.
Glaciers, effect of, 190.
Godwin, Austen H. H., survey of mountains by, 15.
Golden Throne, 22.
Goman Singh, 69;
takes servants, etc., over Mazeno La, 73, 117, 124.
---- ---- pass, 89, 118.
Gonar peak, 118.
Goodsir group of mountains, 143, 145.
Gor, inhabitants of, 122.
Graham, W. W., ascents by, 16.
Guicho La, 17, 19.
Gurais, 34.
Gurdon, Capt. B. E. M., ascent near Nagyr, 23.
Gusherbrum, 15.
H
Haramosh, 127.
Haramukh, 29.
Harkabir Thapa, 23, 178.
Harman, Capt., visits Donkia pass, 16.
Hart, H. C., 226, 230.
Haskett-Smith, W. P., 247.
Hastings, G., 27;
arrives at Chiche glacier camp, 56;
returns to Rupal nullah and Astor, 87;
crosses Mazeno La, 90;
returns to Diamirai nullah to search for Mummery,
122, 125, 175, 191, 247, 256.
---- Warren, frontier policy, 8.
Hatu Pir, view from, 127, 129.
Higraf Tind, 192;
ascent of, 197.
Himalaya, peaks over 24,000 feet, 6, 307.
---- exclusion from, 7.
---- Mountaineering Club, 14.
Hindu Kush range, 26.
Hispar pass crossed, 21, 24.
Hooker, Sir Joseph, Sikkim Journeys, 11.
---- group of mountains, 144.
---- Mount, 149.
Howse pass, 144.
I
Ibi-Gamin. See Kamet.
Imboden, Joseph, 16.
Indus valley, 127;
heat in, 130.
J
Johnson, Dr., 50, 211;
description of Skye by, 212.
---- W. H., ascents by, 13.
Jonsong La crossed, 24.
Jubonu, 18; ascent of, 19.
K
K^{2}, 15, 21, 22;
seen from slopes of Nanga Parbat, 71.
Kabru, 16, 18;
ascent of, 19;
objections to claimed ascent of, 19.
Kamet, attempted ascents of, 13, 16.
Kamri pass crossed, 34.
Kanchenjunga, 12, 16, 17, 18, 24.
Kang La, ascent of peak near, 19.
Karakoram range. See Mustagh range.
---- pass, 13.
Kashmir, journey from Rawul Pindi to, 28;
valley of, 29.
Kauffmann, Ulrich, 17.
Kerry Hills, 237 _et seq._
Khaghan, 23.
Kicking Horse pass, 143.
Kishnganga valley, description of, 33.
Kongra-Lama pass, 12.
Koser Gunge, ascent of, 24.
Kulu, 9.
Kumaon, 9.
L
Langstrandtinder, ascent of, 195.
Laurence, W. R., description of valley of Kashmir, 30.
Lechre, landslip blocks Indus at 26, 129.
Leo Porgyul, 11.
Liskom pass, 123.
Lofoten Islands, 185;
fish trade of, 203;
rain in the, 201;
visits to the, 207;
climate of, 187;
scenery of, 189.
Logan, Mount, 136.
Lor Khan, 83, 89;
accident to, 96; 109.
Louise lake, 145.
Lubar nullah, camp in, 79.
---- glacier, 59.
---- torrent, 107.
Lyell, Mount, 147.
M
Macgillicuddy's Reeks. See Kerry Hills, 237.
Maelström, description of, 185.
Manning, T., Mission to Tibet, 8.
Markhor, 60.
Masherbrum, 15.
Mazeno La, 42;
cross the, 57;
cross second time, 66;
cross third time, 77;
Bruce crosses the, 81;
Hastings crosses, 90.
---- peaks, 42.
M'Kinley, Mount, 136.
Monal, Mount, 16;
ascent of, 17, 18.
Montgomerie, Capt. T. G., survey of mountains by, 15.
Mösadlen, 192.
Moss ghyll, climb up, 256.
Mountains, description of
Himalayan, 50;
Canadian Rocky, 143.
Lofoten 191;
Scotch, 220;
Irish, 226.
Mummery, A. F., 27;
explores western face of Nanga Parbat, 82;
ascends Diamirai peak, 97;
starts for Bunar, 105;
takes provisions up rocks of Nanga Parbat, 83, 109;
spends night on rocks of Nanga Parbat, 110, 114;
starts for ascent of Nanga Parbat, 113;
starts for Diama pass, 116;
probable fate of, 124;
climbing in Alps, 174;
climbing near Wastdale Head, 246.
Murree, 28.
Mustagh range, view of, 91, 128.
---- pass, 22.
---- tower, description of, 21.
N
Nanda Devi, 12, 16, 17, 18.
Nanga Parbat, 26;
view of from Kamri pass, 34;
glacier, 45;
south face, view of, 47;
western face, view of, 61;
Mummery explores western face, 82;
provisions left on, 83;
climbing on, 83;
avalanches on, 83, 111, 114, 124, 133;
attempted ascent of, 114;
northern face of, 120.
Nepaul, enormous peaks north of, 12, 16.
Nicholson, A., derivation of the name of the Coolin, 235.
Night out at 19,000 ft., 75.
Nun Kun peaks, 24, 29.
Nushik La crossed, 21.
O
Ottertail Range, 143.
P
Pennant, 213.
Phillip, Colin B., 233, 270, 273.
Pillar rock, climbing on, 251.
Pioneer peak, 20, 23.
Prairie, description of, 138.
Priestman, H., 191.
Pundim, 17, 19.
Punmah glacier, 15.
R
Ragee-Bogee Peaks ascended, 23.
Ragobir Thapa, 69, 82, 89, 113, 117, 124.
Rakiot nullah, 116;
arrive in, 120;
explore, 121.
Rakiot glacier, 120.
---- peak, 42.
Rakipushi, 127.
Ramghat, 127.
Rattu, 35.
Red pass, 118.
Robinson, J. W., 247, 255, 260.
Robson, description of Grampians by, 214.
Rocky Mountains, Canadian, 135;
future of, 137;
approach to, 138, 140;
travelling in, 150;
dense forests on west side of, 156.
Rosamir, head coolie, 116.
Rulten, 192;
attempted ascent of, 201.
Rupal nullah, arrival in, 38;
description of, 41;
journey up, 44.
---- peak, 42;
glacier, 42.
S
Samayar Glacier, 21.
Schlagintweit, Adolf and Robert, exploration of Himalaya, 12.
Screes, climb up the great gully of the, 254.
Selkirk mountains, 142.
Sella, Signor V., 24.
Sgurr a'Ghreadaidh, climb on, 219.
Shallihuru glacier, 21.
Shandur pass, 35.
Sheep, price of, 59.
Shikara pass, 23.
Shikari, robbed by, 106.
Sickness, mountain, 11, 58, 98.
Siegfried Horn, ascent of, 24.
Simpson pass, 143.
Slieve League, climbing on, 230;
sea caves near, 231.
Slingsby, C., 247.
Solly, G., 252.
Spiti, 9.
Stewart, Capt., 125.
---- Lieut. C. G., Chitral Relief Expedition, 35.
Swat country, peaks in, 60, 81.
T
Tashing, 36, 40.
---- river crossed, 36.
---- glacier ascended, 70;
descended, 72.
Temple group mountains, 143, 145.
Thompson pass, 144.
Thosho pass, 39;
peak, 42.
Tirich Mir, 26;
seen from slopes of Nanga Parbat, 81.
Tragbal or Raj Diangan pass, 33.
Travers, M. W., 271.
Trisuli peaks, 17.
Trold Fjord, 199, 205.
Troldfjordvatn, 199, 205.
Tunkra pass, 12.
V
Vaage Kallen, 192.
Vermilion pass, 143.
W
Wapta Range, 144, 146.
Wastdale Head, climbing near, 245 _et seq._
Wicklow Mountains, 229, 242.
Woolar lake, description of, 31;
storm on, 32.
Woolley, H., 191.
Y
Younghusband, Captain F., climb with Major Bruce, 23.
Z
Zaipur, 36.
Zurbriggen, M., 20, 24.
Edinburgh: Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE
Now Ready.
_In One Volume, Royal 8vo, with Illustrations, price 36s. net._
* * * * *
THE ALPS IN 1864
A PRIVATE JOURNAL
BY A. W. MOORE
EDITED BY ALEX. B. W. KENNEDY, LL.D., F.R.S.
MEMBER OF THE ALPINE CLUB
Moore's privately printed Journal of 1864 has long been one of the
rarest and most coveted books of Alpine adventure. The Author was a
climber of marvellous energy, and climbed, for the pure pleasure of
climbing, in days when the Alps were not 'hung in chains,' and when
virgin peaks and passes still remained in comparative plenty. Few of
his contemporaries had so wide a knowledge of the mountains as he had,
and few were able to make so many first ascents; while few, it may be
said without offence, spoke and wrote of their doings in so simple,
genial, and unaffected a fashion.
'The writer succeeds in bringing the actual
conditions of the climb home to the reader in a
manner calculated at times almost to take his
breath away. He makes one believe that it would
be possible to go and repeat the exact route
merely from his description. As we follow him
over the ice-wall and along the _arêtes_ of
the Ecrins, through the hurricanes on the Dom,
across the awful barrier of the Moming Pass, and
up the hanging glaciers of the Brenva, we feel
as if we were ourselves standing amid the snows
and rocks of the Alpine giants as we sit in our
arm-chair waiting till the return of a summer
holiday sends us once again to the happy hunting
ground.'--_Spectator._
'The work will prove not only a monument to the
memory of a man of rare culture, of great
public capacity, and of unusual mountaineering
experience, but also a notable addition to
permanent Alpine literature.'--_Birmingham Post._
'The keynote of the whole book is its frank, hearty,
straightforward naturalness. It breathes the
very air of the mountains, and is instinct
in every page with the spirit of the true
mountaineer.'--_Birmingham Gazette._
'Contains a better collection of Alpine plates than
we have ever before seen brought together in a
book. The volume would be worth buying for the
plates alone.'--_Times._
'One of the most vivid and fascinating books
of Alpine travel which has ever been
written.'--_Alpine Journal._
'Moore's book will be classed with the very best
in its department of literature with the works
of Mummery and Mr. Whymper and Mr. Leslie
Stephen.'--_Glasgow Herald._
'Mr. Moore was an ardent and successful mountain
climber,' with a remarkable topographical faculty
and a retentive and accurate memory. He wrote in
an easy style with much descriptive power and
quiet humour.'--_Standard._
* * * * *
_In Preparation, One Volume, with Illustrations_
A Book on Climbing in Norway
_with chapters on the physical features, etc., of the country_.
BY WM. CECIL SLINGSBY.
* * * * *
EDINBURGH: DAVID DOUGLAS, 10 CASTLE STREET.
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Obvious misspellings and omissions were corrected.
Errors in punctuation and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
unless otherwise noted.
The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate.