A ^'E^Y PASS. 249 



the most obvious tliat we adopted it -witliout much 

 thought. The upper suowfield was more extensive than 

 it looked from below, and rose in a succession of gentle 

 steps, each more or less broken by large crevasses. These, 

 with the safeguard of the rope, we found no difficulty in 

 tm-ning, and came at last in sight of the point at which 

 we should hit the ridge — a well-marked and striking gap 

 between two rocks at the extreme head of the snowy 

 basin. The glacier scenery was wild, but not particularly 

 grand ; the summits around us, which cut off all distant 

 vioAV, were, with the exception of Tau Burdisula, of no 

 great height, and even that did not look Yery imposing 

 from this side. The trudge over the last snowfield was 

 heavy, and we began to count the number of steps, and to 

 wonder how many more would be necessary to get over 

 what seemed to the eye a very small distance. When (at 

 12.30) we reached the gap, and found shelter under some 

 rocks from the cold blast which was blowing through it, 

 we congratulated ourselves on having perpetrated that 

 delight of Alpine climbers, a new col, though whether 

 our notch would prove one was still a question. A snow 

 couloir fell away rapidly for some hundred feet between 

 splintered towers of rock, and then, the angle becoming- 

 still steeper, was lost to sight, and the eye descended to a 

 tolerably level and smooth glacier backed by an icy ridge, 

 equal in height to that on which we were sitting. Up 

 the glacier a long procession of sheep was slowly wending 

 its way towards the regular pass, in the track of those 

 we had encountered in the morning. The northern side, 

 although easy to a mountaineer, seemed to be defended by 

 a crevasse large enough to form a serious obstacle to 

 sheep and dogs. The bold rock-shapes in the foreground, 

 and the wildness of the whole view, entirely confined to the 

 snow-region, and devoid of any touch of softness, reminded 



