OLD ALPINE JOTTINGS. 487 



Matterhorn ; cutting much away but leaving brown-red 

 masses of the most imposing magnitude behind — pil- 

 lars and towers and splintered obelisks, cut out of the 

 mountain — grand in their hoariuess, and softened by 

 the colouring of age. At length we were compelled to 

 quit the ridge for the base of a precipice which seemed 

 to girdle the mountain like a wall. It was a clean 

 section of rock, with cracks and narrow ledges here and 

 there. We sought to turn this wall in vain. Bennen 

 swerved to the right and to the left to make his 

 inspection complete. There was no alternative — over 

 the precipice we must go or else retreat. For a time 

 it was manifest our onset must be desperate. We 

 grappled with the cliff. Walters, an exceedingly power- 

 ful climber, went first. Close to him was Bennen, with 

 arm and knee and counsel ready in time of need. As 

 usual, I followed Bennen, while the two porters brought 

 up the rear. The behaviour of all of them was ad- 

 mirable. A process of reciprocal lifting continued for 

 half an hour, when a last strong effort threw Walters 

 across the brow of the precipice and rendered our pro- 

 gress thus far secure. 



' After scaling the precipice we found ourselves once 

 more upon the ridge, with safe footing on the ledges of 

 gneiss. We approached the conical peak seen from 

 Breuil, while before us and, as we thought, assuredly 

 within our grasp was the proper summit of the re- 

 nowned Matterhorn. To test Bennen's feelings I re- 

 marked, "We shall at all events reach the lower peak." 

 There was a kind of scorn in his laugh as he replied, 

 stretching his arm towards the summit, " In an hour, 

 sir, the people of Zermatt will see our flagstaff planted 

 yonder." We went upward, this spirit of triumph 

 forestalled making the ascent a jubilee. 



' We reached the first summit, and on it fixed our 



