486 OLD ALPINE JOTTINGS. 



attack upon the Matterhorn and had kindly permitted 

 the tent to remain, thus saving me the labour of carrying 

 up one of my own. I had with me a second and 

 smaller tent, made for me under the friendly super- 

 vision of Mr. Whymper, which the exceedingly nimble- 

 handed Carrel soon placed in position upon a platform 

 of stones. Both tents stood in the shadow of a great 

 rock which effectually sheltered us from all projectiles 

 from the heights. 



6 As the evening advanced fog, the enemy of the 

 climber, came creeping up the valley, and heavy 

 flounces of cloud draped the bases of the hills. The 

 fog thickened through a series of changes which only a 

 mountain land can show. Sudden uprushings of air 

 would at one place carry the clouds aloft in vertical 

 currents, while at other places horizontal gusts wildly 

 tossed them to and fro. Impinging upon each other 

 at oblique angles they sometimes formed whirling 

 cyclones of cloud. The air was tortured in its search 

 for repose. Explosive peals above us, succeeded by the 

 sound of tumbling rocks, were heard from time to 

 time. We were swathed in the densest fog when 

 we retired to rest, and had scarcely a hope that the 

 morrow's sun would be able to dispel the gloom. 

 Throughout the night I heard the intermittent roar of 

 the stones as they rushed down an adjacent couloir. 

 Looking at midnight through a small hole in the can- 

 vas of my tent I saw a star. I rose and found the 

 heavens without a cloud ; while above me the black 

 battlements of the Matterhorn were projected against 

 the fretted sky. 



8 It was 4 a.m. before we started. We adhered to 

 the hacked and weather-worn spine, until its disintegra- 

 tion became too vast. The alternations of sun and frost 

 have made wondrous havoc on the southern face of the 



