482 OLD ALPINE JOTTINGS. 



climb alone among these crags and precipices. He need 

 not be theological, but, if complete, he must be religious 

 with such an environment. To the climber amongst 

 them, the southern cliffs and crags of the Matterhorn 

 are incomparably grander than those of the north. 

 Majesty of form and magnitude, and richness of colour- 

 ing, combine to ennoble them. 



Looked at from Breuil, the Matterhorn presents two 

 summits: the one, the summit proper, a square rock- 

 tower in appearance; the other, which is really the end 

 of a sharp ridge abutting against the rock-tower, an 

 apparently conical peak. On this peak Bennen and 

 myself planted our flagstaff in 1862, and with it, which 

 had no previous name, Italian writers have done me the 

 honour of associating mine. At some distance below it 

 the mountain is crossed by an almost horizontal ledge 

 always loaded with snow, which from its resemblance to 

 a white necktie has been called the Cravatte. On the 

 ledge a cabin was put together last year. It stands above 

 the precipice where I quitted my rope in 1862. Up 

 this precipice, by the aid of a thicker I will not say 

 a stronger rope we now scrambled, and following the 

 exact route pursued by Bennen and myself five years 

 previously, we came to the end of the Cravatte. At 

 some places the snow upon the ledge fell steeply from 

 its junction with the cliff. Here steps were necessary. 

 Deep step-cutting was also needed where the snow had 

 been melted and recongealed. The passage was soon 

 accomplished along the Cravatte to the cabin, which was 

 almost filled with snow. 



Our first inquiry now had reference to the supply 

 of water. We could of course always melt the snow, 

 but this would involve a wasteful expenditure of heat. 

 The cliff at the base of which the hut was built over- 

 hung, and from its edge the liquefied snow fell in 



