xm AN ASCENT OF MONT VENTOUX 187 



had reduced me to the condition of one whose eyes 

 have been bandaged, and has then been made to 

 pirouette on his heels. I had lost the points of the 

 compass, and no longer knew in the very least 

 which was the southern side. I questioned one and 

 another ; opinions were divided and very uncertain. 

 The conclusion was that not one of us could say 

 which was the north and which the south. Never — 

 no, never have I realised the value of the points of 

 the compass as at that moment. All around was 

 the unknown of gray cloudland ; below we could 

 just make out the beginning of a slope here or there, 

 but which was the right one? We must make up 

 our minds to descend, trusting to good fortune. If 

 by ill luck we took the northern slope we risked 

 breaking our necks over those precipices the very 

 look of which had so inspired us with fear. 

 Perhaps not one of us would survive. I went 

 through some moments of acute perplexity. 



" Let us stay here," said the majority, and wait 

 till the rain stops. " Bad advice," said the others, 

 and I was of the number ; " bad advice. The rain 

 may last a long while, and drenched as we are, at 

 the first chill of night we shall freeze on the spot." 

 My worthy friend, Bernard Verlot, come from the 

 Jardin des Plantes at Paris on purpose to ascend 

 Mont Ventoux with me, showed an imperturb- 

 able calm, trusting to my prudence to get out of 

 the scrape. I drew him a little on one side so as 

 not to increase the panic of the others, and told him 

 my terrible apprehensions. We held a council of 

 two, and tried to supply the place of the magnetic 

 needle by reasoning. " When the clouds came up," 



