OLD ALPINE JOTTINGS. 463 



From the Bel Alp, in company with Mr. Girdle- 

 stone, I made an attack upon the Aletschhorn. We 

 failed. The weather as we started was undecided, but 

 we hoped the turn might be in our favour. We first 

 kept along the Alp, with the Jaggi glacier to our right, 

 then crossed its moraine, and made the trunk glacier 

 our highway until we reached the point of confluence 

 of its branches. Here we turned to the right, the 

 Aletschhorn from base to summit coming into view. 

 We reached the true base of the mountain, and without 

 halting breasted its snow. But as we climbed the 

 atmosphere thickened more and more. About the Xest- 

 horn the horizon deepened to pitchy darkness, and on 

 the Aletschhorn itself hung a cloud which we at first 

 hoped would melt before the strengthening sun, but 

 which instead of melting became denser. Xow and 

 then an echoing rumble of the wind warned us that we 

 might expect rough handling above. We persisted, 

 however, and reached a considerable height, unwilling 

 to admit that the weather was against us; until a more 

 savage roar and a ruder shake than ordinary caused us 

 to halt and look more earnestly and anxiously into the 

 darkening atmosphere. Snow began to fall, and we felt 

 that we must yield. The wind did not increase, but the 

 snow thickened and fell in heavy flakes. Holding on in 

 the dimness to the medial moraine, we managed to get 

 down the glacier, and cleared it at a practicable point; 

 whence, guided by the cliffs which flanked our right, 

 and which became visible only when we came almost 

 into contact with them, we hit the proper track to the 

 hotel. 



Though my visits to the Alps already numbered 

 thirteen, I had never gone as far southward as the 

 Italian lakes. The perfectly unmanageable weather of 



