A Storm on the Mountains. 125 



doAvn upon the borders of the glacier ; another roar near at hand, 

 caused by an avalanche on our own side of the glacier, was fol- 

 lowed by another, another, and still another out in the darkness, 

 no one could tell where. The wilder the storm, the louder and 

 more frequent became the thunder of the avalanches. It seemed 

 as if pandemonium reigned on the mountains. One might fancy 

 that the evil spirits of the hills had prepared for us a reception 

 of their own liking — but decidedly not to the taste of their 

 visitors. Soon there was a clatter and whiz of stones at our 

 door. Looking out I saw rocks as large as one's head bounding 

 past within a few feet of our tent. The stones on the mountain 

 side above had been loosened by the rain, and it was evident 

 that our perch was no longer tenable. Before we could remove 

 our frail shelter to a place of greater safety, a falling rock struck 

 the alpenstock to which the ridge-rope of our tent was fastened 

 and carried it away.- Our tent " went by the board," as a sailor 

 would say, and we were left exposed to the pouring rain. Before 

 we could gather up our blankets they were not only soaked, but 

 a bushel or more of mud and stones from the bank above, pre- 

 viously held back by the tent, flowed in upon them. Rolling 

 up our blankets and " caching " the rations, instruments, etc., 

 under a rubber cloth held down by rocks, we hastily dragged 

 our tent-cloth down to the border of the glacier, at the extremity 

 of a tapering ridge, along which it seemed impossible for stones 

 from above to travel. We there pitched our tent on the hard 

 snow, without the luxury of even a few handfuls of shale 

 beneath our blankets. Wet and cold, we sought to wear the 

 night away as best we could, sleep being impossible. Crumback, 

 who had been especially energetic in removing the tent, regard- 

 less of his own exposure, was wet and became cold and silent. 

 The oil-stove and a few rations were brought from the cache at 

 the abandoned camp, and soon a dish of coffee was steaming and 

 filling the tent with its delicious odor. Our shelter became com- 

 fortably warm and the hot coffee, acting as a stimulant, restored 

 our sluggish circulation. We passed an uncomfortable night 

 and watched anxiously for the dawn. ToAvard morning a cold 

 wind swept down the glacier and the rain ceased. With the 

 dawn there came indications that the storm had passed, although 

 we were still enveloped in dense clouds and could not decide 

 whether or not a favorable change in the weather had occurred. 

 We were still cold and wet and the desire to return to Blossom 



18— Nat. Geog. Mag., vol, III, 1891, 



