AN ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. 243 



the rope, my gloves would not cling to it. I felt 

 myself slowly sliding downward. It was not a 

 pleasant sensation. I thought that I should prob- 

 ably stop on reaching the knot on the end of the 

 rope; but I might go too fast, and, jerking John 

 the Baptist from his narrow perch, we would form 

 the nucleus of a small avalanche moving towards 

 Zermatt. But I stopped, and taking off my gloves 

 I tried it again, this time with better success. 



At last, after a long and toilsome scramble we all 

 reached the upper hut, where we lay down on the 

 hay fo'r a little rest and another round of tough 

 bread, sour wine, and chocolate. This hut I shall 

 have occasion to describe farther on. 



As we went on, clouds had begun to gather 

 about us, and after a little the wind rose and it 

 began to snow. We lost sight of the earth alto- 

 gether, and everything below us became a bottom- 

 less abyss. Soon we came to the narrow ridge 

 on the shoulder of the Matterhorn where for a 

 short distance the northeast angle of the mountain 

 which we were ascending is no wider than the 

 back of a very lean horse. It is too narrow for one 

 to stand on or even to sit on with comfort. On 

 either side as we crawled along we could look 

 downward seemingly to the very bottom of things. 

 Above this point the first climbers fell from the 

 mountain. I asked John about it, but he would 

 not talk. " I was not here then," he said. 



After this we came around to the eastern face 

 again. Here we could see the summit, some five 

 hundred feet above us, a ragged wall of rock, 

 steeper than any slope we had yet ascended and its 



