CHAPTER XIII

BENIGHTED ON A SNOW PEAK

In a most interesting account of a mountain adventure which, by the

courtesy of the writer, Sir H. Seymour King, I am enabled to reprint

from _The Alpine Journal_, we are once more reminded that a party of

thoroughly competent and robust mountaineers can come without evil

after-effects out of a night of great hardship which would have

undoubtedly proved fatal to ill-equipped and inexperienced amateurs and

guides, such as those accompanying Mr Burckhardt, who perished from

exposure on the Matterhorn.[8]

After describing a previous ascent, Sir H. Seymour King goes on to say:

"A few days later we went to Mürren, with the intention of carrying out

a long-cherished plan of mine and testing the possibility of ascending

the Silberhorn from the Roththal. Previous ascents had proved so

lengthy, necessitating, I think, in nearly every case, the passing of a

night on the rocks or the glacier, that I thought it would be highly

desirable if some shorter route could be discovered. I had an idea that

the route by the western _arête_ would prove to be the one sought for.

Unfortunately, we were delayed in making an attempt by bad weather until

the 23rd of September, which is undoubtedly too late in the year for so

difficult an expedition.

"I left the Hôtel Silberhorn with Ambrose Supersax and Louis Zurbrücken

as guides, and a porter, at ten o'clock on the morning of the 23rd of

September, and followed for some distance the usual path to the Jungfrau

Hut; at length, leaving the Roththal path on the right, we struck off

into a goat track, which leads by narrow ledges round the shoulder of

the great bluffs forming the northern boundary of the Roththal. In this

way gaining the face of the alp fronting Mürren, we made our way to the

base of the 'Strahlplatten,' where we had determined to encamp for the

night.

"The nights were already lengthening out, and where we were it was not

light before six, and it was not possible to move earlier than five;

punctually at that hour we started. We took only one knapsack with us,

leaving the rest of the things with the porter, whom we instructed to

stay where he was until he saw whether we were going to return the same

way or not, as we thought it was quite possible we might have to pass

another night at the same place. We therefore arranged with him that

when we got to a certain point on the ridge, if we intended to return,

we would wave our hats; but if we made no sign, he might pack up his

things and go home, as in that case he might understand that we had

determined either to descend from the Silberhorn across the glacier to

the Wengern Alp, or else make our way over the Jungfrau, and pass the

night in the Bergli Hut.

"Now let me try for a moment to describe the appearance of the rock face

up which we purposed making our way on to the _arête_. From where we

were the _arête_ appeared to run nearly due east and west. At the west

it terminated in the precipices which face Mürren, and at the east with

the peak whence we had arranged to signal to our porter. From this peak

a ridge descended towards the valley bounding the side facing us. On

that side the rock face itself was divided into two compartments by a

well-marked ridge running down the middle, giving the appearance of two

couloirs leading to the _arête_; the whole side was composed of

extremely smooth rocks, with very little foot-hold or hand-hold which

would be extremely dangerous, if not impossible, to attempt, if they

were not dry. Fortunately, we found them perfectly free from either

water or ice, and, with the exception of one difficult piece, which it

took us some little time to surmount, we found nothing to check us

until we were just under the _arête_. We ascended by the right-hand

couloir, if I may so term it, and then made for the gap on the ridge at

the extreme westerly end. Just below this gap we experienced some

difficulty, owing to the excessive smoothness of the rocks, but finally

reached the gap I have mentioned a little before nine.

"I need not say that our hopes rose high, and that we were in the very

best of spirits, and when we finally stood in the gap itself we began to

think the worst part of the work was over. We soon found, however, that

it had hardly begun; it was all very well being in the gap, but the

problem was how to get from there on to the _arête_ itself; for, though

the latter was not more than 20 feet above us, the peculiar formation of

the rocks rendered every attempt to get on to it fruitless. The rocks

hung over on every side. We exhausted ourselves in vain attempts to

surmount them. An hour soon passed away, and after each of us in turn

had failed, we sat down disconsolately to consider the situation under

the lee of the ridge, so as to be out of the way of the biting north

wind which was blowing. Looking round as we sat mournfully consuming

some breakfast, I spied a bottle in a crevice, and found it contained

the names of Mr C. E. Matthews and Herr E. von Fellenberg, with

Melchior Anderegg and two other guides; it was undated, but recounted

how they had reached this spot and had been obliged to return without

achieving their object, which apparently was identical with our own.

This was the last straw, and exasperated Ambrose to the highest degree.

That we should have gone through so much only to have gained the same

spot where another party several years before had arrived was too much

for his equanimity. He vowed he would never go back, and nothing under

heaven should turn him back, he would get on to the ridge. We might do

as we liked, he meant to stay there until he had. All of which I pointed

out to him was very fine talk, but, as men were at present constructed,

it did not appear to me possible to climb an acute angle. Ambrose,

however, persisted that he would make another attempt to get on to the

ridge, and, as it was quite hopeless anywhere on the side by which we

had ascended, he roped himself, and insisted on being let down the

northern face of the mountain.

"With great skill he managed to work himself along the face for the full

length of the rope, and the first 100 feet being exhausted, a second of

80 feet was tied to it, and this again paid out to its utmost length;

still he could find no way up to the ridge. He thereupon demanded that

the rope should be let go, and, in spite of our remonstrances at the

danger he was running, he pulled it in, slung it on his back, and

proceeded, while we sat down and waited with no little anxiety lest some

accident should befall him.

"For half an hour we neither saw nor heard anything of him, and our

shouts remained unanswered. Zurbrücken muttered at intervals something

about 'Dummheit,' and was evidently very uneasy. Suddenly we heard a

shout from above, which told us he had succeeded in ascending the wall

above him, and getting on to the ridge, down which he was actually

coming at the moment, and the next minute he was peering over the point

where we had been stuck.

"It was really a magnificent exhibition both of pluck and skill, and

Ambrose deserves the highest credit for his success. Letting the rope

over, and fastening it well to a piece of rock, he first hauled up the

ice axes and knapsacks, and then we each in turn were half hauled, and

half climbed to the place where he stood. I know when I arrived at the

top I was nearly speechless from the terrible exertion it was necessary

to make, and the pressure of the rope on my ribs; I could only lie on my

back and gasp feebly for brandy!

"However, it was imperative to proceed; more than two hours had been

wasted here, and it was nearly eleven o'clock. The way in front of us

looked fairly plain and easy, and our hopes once again began to rise;

but soon, as we proceeded along the ridge, it became narrower and

narrower, until from walking we were reduced to kneeling, and at last

could only proceed _à cheval_; in this elegant position we struggled

along for some little distance, until the _arête_ widening out again

permitted us once more to stand up; but here we found the rocks much

more difficult, and finally absolutely impossible. At the foot of the

peak at the easterly end of the ridge which I have before mentioned we

were forced off the _arête_ on to a wall of ice which led to the summit;

the slope was at a very sharp angle, the ice very hard and blue, and at

last became so steep that we were forced back on to the rocks, and with

some considerable difficulty reached the summit; from there we could see

the Silberhorn in front of us jutting out like a great white promontory

into a frozen sea. It being then one o'clock, we saw there was no

possibility of our getting back the same way that evening, so we made no

sign to our porter, whom we could see watching us far down below.

"The formation of the ridge here is somewhat curious. After a slight

descent it broadens out into a small and much crevassed glacier, shut in

on the further side by a level snow wall, the promontory which I have

mentioned above. The _arête_ of this wall appears to run level from the

rock ridge to its northern termination; indeed, I am of opinion that the

highest point is on the rock ridge itself, and that the extreme end of

the ridge facing the Wengern Alp is a few feet lower than the rocks

overlooking the Roththal.

"We speedily crossed the little intervening glacier, or snow-field, and

commenced to ascend diagonally the snow wall, but found the snow in such

a dangerous condition, lying as it was loosely on the surface of ice,

that from the fear of starting an avalanche we once more made our way

back to the ridge which formed the continuation of the _arête_ along

which we had been climbing. Here the rocks were extremely difficult,

being interspersed with ice and very rotten. I think this was one of the

most difficult parts of the expedition. It was half-past three when we

reached the final summit, and then made our way along the snow ridge

nearly to its extremity. The snow _arête_ was very narrow, and in its

then condition not very pleasant to traverse; the day too was far

advanced, and we had no time to spend in much exploration, so we

returned as quickly as we could to the ridge which leads down to the

Silberlücke; we were already getting very doubtful as to whether we

should get any shelter for the night. We had reached the narrow rock

_arête_ joining the Silberhorn with the precipices of the Jungfrau; in

the middle was the narrow gap called the Silberlücke, and to that we

crawled down and halted a moment to consider whether it would not be

better to descend on to the glacier and strike across to the Wengern

Alp; but we knew from the results of previous expeditions that crossing

the glacier would probably take four, if not five hours. None of us had

ever been across it; it was then four o'clock, and it would be dark at

six. Our only hope lay in getting across the Jungfrau before the

daylight finally died out. In the gap we found a ladder left by some

previous explorer, and two or three pieces of wood; and after debating

whether we had not better pass the night there, finally decided to push

on for the Jungfrau.

"Our chance of escaping a night in the open air depended mainly on two

points: first, whether the snow leading to the Jungfrau was in fairly

good condition; and, secondly, whether anybody whose steps we could make

use of for descending had been on the mountain that day. A few minutes

settled the first question; we found that the slopes leading up to the

upper snow-field which circles round the base of the Jungfrau were hard

as ice, and we were soon laboriously cutting steps upwards. We pushed on

with all speed, but step-cutting is at the best a slow operation, and

before we got into the Roththal track the lengthening shadows had almost

overtaken us. We hurried on and managed to get across the _bergschrund_

before the last rays of sunlight left the summit of the Jungfrau. As we

surmounted the final rocks I turned for a minute to look across

Switzerland, and was rewarded by one of the most beautiful spectacles it

has ever been my good fortune to witness. The valleys were filled with

mist, but the setting sun tinged their surface with a deep crimson glow;

the last rays were still lingering round Mont Blanc and one or two of

the higher mountains; where we stood was still filled with golden light

from the last rays of the sinking sun. The sky was perfectly clear, and

the panorama which unrolled itself before our eyes with its mingled

light and shadow was one of the most wonderful that lover of mountain

scenery could desire to gaze on. A justification for the erection of a

hut on the summit of the Jungfrau might almost be found in the

possibility of obtaining such a view.

"But we had no time for indulging in rhapsodies; a bitter north wind was

still blowing so keenly, that the upper leather of our boots had frozen

stiff as boards while we walked. The moon was well up, and if only our

second hope were realised, and some one had been on the mountain that

day, we might find a refuge from the wind in the Bergli or Concordia

Huts. We tumbled rather than scrambled down the rocks by the flickering

moonlight, until we reached the well-known point where it is necessary

to strike across the face just above the Roththal Sattel. Our last hope

was dashed to the ground. No one had been there that day, and if we were

to get down it must be by our own efforts. So Ambrose at once set to

work to cut steps across the face. We had been there a fortnight before,

and gone up and down the Jungfrau without cutting hardly a step; now the

face was all blue ice, and in five minutes I made up my mind that the

risk of such a descent was too much to take.

"The wall above the great _bergschrund_ was in shadow, the _bergschrund_

last year was especially formidable, and we were all too exhausted

safely to face the freezing wind on such a steep ice-slope in the dark.

We returned, therefore, to the rocks, and, after a brief consultation,

decided to pass the night there as best we could. We managed to find a

corner shut in on two sides by rock about 5 feet high, from the floor of

which we set to work to rake out the snow with our axes. The snow had

drifted to a considerable depth, and its excavation gave us a good

quantity of heat to start the night with, but our boots refused to thaw,

and do what we would our feet would not get warm.

"Our provisions being nearly exhausted, we agreed only to take a

mouthful of brandy and a little bread that night, and keep the bulk of

the provisions until next morning, when we expected to be in a more or

less exhausted condition, as the cold was very great, and it was obvious

that we had a pretty severe ordeal before us. It was by this time

half-past seven o'clock. We put on our gloves and gaiters, buttoned up

our coats, and after making a seat apiece out of three smooth stones,

sat down as close together as we could, and commenced to smoke.

"The night was beautifully clear, but far away to the south we could see

a great thunderstorm raging over the Italian hills, and were in no

little trepidation lest it should be coming up in our direction, as

indeed a storm had done in exactly a similar way a week before; but the

north wind kept it at bay, and we luckily had not a snow-storm to face

in addition to the other discomforts.

"The night passed slowly enough; it was necessary to keep shuffling our

feet and beating our arms together the whole night long without

cessation, in order to prevent being frost-bitten, and it was even more

difficult to keep awake. The hours, however, passed somehow, and at

half-past four the first primrose streaks in the sky heralded the coming

day. By five o'clock the welcome face of the sun peeped over the

Trugberg, and we began to prepare for a start.

"Our first thought was breakfast, but this solace was denied us; the

wine and brandy had frozen during the night, and were solid lumps of

ice; the bread required nothing less than an ice-axe to cut it, and then

probably would have flown into chips like a log of wood; the three

remaining eggs we possessed had been converted during the night into

icicles; there was nothing for it, therefore, but to start hungry and

thirsty. Ambrose proposed that he and Zurbrücken should first cut the

steps, and then come back for me, but after a very few minutes' exposure

to the wind they were obliged to return and wait until the sun had

warmed them a little, the biting cold of the night and exhaustion from

want of sleep rendered it impossible to face the work of step-cutting in

such a bitter wind. We resumed our seats, therefore, and waited another

hour, and then commenced our descent to the _bergschrund_. We had to cut

steps the whole way down, and very glad I was we had not attempted it in

the dark, as I think it would have been almost impossible to get over

without an accident.

"We pushed on steadily, but the night had taken all the spurt out of us,

and our progress across the Jungfrau Firn was not very rapid. We hoped

to find water under the Mönch Joch, where we had found a good supply a

fortnight previously, but the wind had prevented the snow melting at the

time we reached the spot, and there was nothing for it but to press on

to Grindelwald, and it was not until we reached the end of the Viescher

Glacier that we found any water to drink. At the Bäregg we got some

ginger nuts to eat, and by three o'clock in the afternoon were being

hospitably welcomed by the Bosses at the 'Bär,' whose welcome was never

more appreciated. These estimable hosts soon had an excellent dinner

ready, and by half-past four I was driving to Interlaken to rejoin the

rest of my party."

Adventures on the Roof of the World · 第 13 / 19 章