l62 



THE ALLMNI JOURNAL. 



miles in width and length and composed 

 of many smaller mountains, And so, 

 after attaining the summit of one hill we 

 find a much larger one looming up be- 

 fore us, perhaps a mile or two away. 



We followed a well defined mountain 

 path, saluting the lew peasants as they 

 passed us and at dusk (about 7 30 p. m.), 

 reached the small hut of a shepherd. 

 In the distance I heard the echoes of an 

 Alpine horn, and soon the yodling of a 

 mountaineer struck my ear. The sound 

 was a quaint one and how romantic it all 

 seemed to be in the very midst of re- 

 ality. 



Finally the old keeper came into view 

 and he bade us enter. The hut was primi- 

 tive. The room (and it consisted of but 

 one room) contained a bed, a table and 

 two benches. And that was all. A 

 lamp was suspended from the ceiling, 

 and a small watch hung on the wall. 

 The window panes were small, five by 

 seven inches, but everything was scru- 

 pulously clean and scrubbed till the sur- 

 face had become absolutely smooth. 



We asked for something to eat and 

 the old man brought in a bowl of warm 

 goat's milk and potatoes. Each man re- 

 ceived a scoop, and seated around the 

 small table we all scooped our shares 

 from the bowl. It was primitive, but 

 good. The old man supplied us with 

 fire wood, and bidding him good-bye we 

 departed. 



It was now quite dark and the atmos- 

 phere chilly. I turned up my coat col- 

 lar and in silence we trudged on, each 

 one possibly musing upon what was in 

 store for him. Suddenly came a change. 

 Vegetation disappeared, and we now 

 traveled over huge boulders and jagged 

 rocks. The guides had lighted the lan- 

 terns, the ropes were tied around us, and 

 the diflBcult work began. It was pitch 

 dark and nothing was to be seen beyond 

 the small circle of light cast by the lan- 



terns, but the guides knew the way in- 

 dicated by crosses of red paint on the 

 rocks. Ordinary traveling was long 

 ago abandoned — we were pushed or 

 pulled, crawled on hands and knees, 

 were suspended by the ropes or ginger- 

 ly crawled along narrow ledges no more 

 than six inches in width, whereas a sin- 

 gle false step meant death in the chasm 

 below. Little did I dream that I was 

 walking along the side of a precipice, 

 with an abyss yawning thousands of feet 

 below me. Little did I think that the 

 shrewd guides had taken us at night so 

 that we could not perceive the dangers 

 through which we had to pass or eventu- 

 ally turn back. 



We advanced with difficulty. The air 

 was biting and chilled to the marrow 

 and every ten minutes the guides halted 

 to administer stimulants ; but so great 

 was our fatigue that the draught was 

 assimilated immediately, without leav- 

 ing any apparent effect. Moss breathed 

 with difficulty and hardly could keep on. 

 The guides told us that at an elevation 

 of 10,000 feet was a small refuge hut 

 built for the protection of travelers lost 

 in storms, and that we would reach it at 

 eleven o'clock. Buoyed by this hope, 

 we gathered our remaining strength and 

 kept at the exhausting climb. Eleven 

 o'clock, and no hut. Immense rocks 

 loomed before us which seemed insur- 

 mountable, but with difficuUy we reached 

 the top, only to find other and larger 

 ones rolling away in the background. 

 Moss groaned and refused to go on. 



By the time we had reached the snow 

 belt, Moss, emanciated and in anguish, 

 could not continue, but we finally per- 

 suaded him to hold to the end of the 

 pick, the guides pulling while I pushed. 

 Our progress was tedious and slow. 

 "Are we near the hut !" asked Moss, the 

 picture of despair. " In ten minutes," 

 was the reply. The wind grew louder, 



