IN VALAIS 



249 



attained on his second definite climb, on 

 July i8, with two guides, the record 

 height on Brides Peak of 24,583 feet. 

 The ridges were dangerous and difficult, 

 while further progress was barred by a 

 dense fog which enveloped the party 

 about 500 feet below the summit, which 

 is 25,119 feet. 



This unsurpassed height of 24,583 feet 

 supplants the previous world record of 



24,000 feet on Mount Kabru, attained by 

 Norwegian mountaineers in 1908. 



The Duke supplemented his strictly 

 mountaineering feats by extended sur- 

 veys, hypsometrical observations, met- 

 eorological records, and other scientific 

 data of value and interest. His work is 

 entitled to the highest possible recogni- 

 tion from geographers of all nations. 



A. W. G. 



IN VALAIS 



By Louise Murray 



Illustrations from Photographs by Jnllicn frcrcs, Geneva 



APROPOS of all the present talk 

 about woman suffrage, let us take 

 a glance at the inhabitants of a 

 small village in Switzerland, or, more 

 accurately, the dwellers on the mountain 

 slopes about Champery, in the canton of 

 Valais, that sequestered and charming 

 hamlet which lies contentedly at the feet 

 of its famous neighbor, the Dent du 

 Midi. 



There the sturdy peasant women have 

 solved the ''equal-rights" matter to their 

 own satisfaction. \'otes were never a 

 factor in the question, but trousers were, 

 and have been calmly appropriated for 

 their own use ; so it is as man's equal 

 in freedom of movement and attire, at 

 least, that the feminine half of the com- 

 munity tend their herds, cut hay on the 

 almost perpendicular hillsides, and clam- 

 ber up and down the stony and tortuous 

 paths leading to their mountain homes. 



If Americans are as yet in almost total 

 ignorance of this little spot, successfully 

 hidden for years at the extreme end of 

 the lovely Val d'llliez, it is by no means 

 undiscovered, and, owing to the recent 

 foreign invasion, these fair traitors to 

 the conventional skirt have become as 

 shy as the proverbial chamois, and^ one 

 must seek them upon their own heights 

 during the summer season, when the 

 new electric tramway which has sup- 



planted the old-time diligence renders 

 this village almost too accessible to the 

 ever-growing tourist army. 



En route from Italy, one leaves the 

 Simplon line at Saint Maurice, rides for 

 a few minutes in a shuttle train of doubt- 

 ful comfort, and, arriving at Monthey, 

 takes the tram, which immediately com- 

 mences an ascent of the fertile valley. 

 Through vineyard and chestnut grove, 

 over roaring mountain streams and past 

 various hamlets, the little train wends its 

 way, ever upward. 



Leaving the heat of the plain below, 

 one gradually emerges into an atmos- 

 phere of crystalline coolness. Champery, 

 the end of the railway and the last village 

 in the valley, lies 3,500 feet above the 

 •sea. Except its bracing air. one is un- 

 conscious of the altitude, as all about 

 tower the infinitely greater heights of 

 the Dents du Midi and the Dents 

 Blanches, their white "teeth" so dazzling 

 in the sunlight that one welcomes the 

 almost ever-present curtain of cloud 

 which veils their brightness. Some 300 

 feet below the village the rajiid and 

 noisy A'ieze. home of that delectable fish, 

 the "ombre," rushes down the bed of the 

 vallev from its source in the Col de 

 Coux. another mountain, at whose sum- 

 mit lies the frontier of Savoy and a cus- 

 toms-house, and from whence one may 



