AN ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN. 249 
so that he could not see, and after a little he lapsed 
into a half-unconscious state, in which he seemed 
to realize only that he had fallen from the moun- 
tain, that it was very cold, and that he must always 
walk. And at times he would give up and lie down 
in the snow, when we would use every argument in 
our power to induce him to rise and go on again. 
It took us four hours to reach the upper cabin, a 
distance perhaps equal to two “squares” in a city 
street. 
Had our wounded man been otherwise than light 
of weight, strong of limb, and immensely resolute, 
we might not have gotten down at all; and a night 
on the bare side of the mountain meant simply 
freezing to death. It is hard enough for a well man 
to go safely down the Matterhorn, far harder than 
to go up; but for a man blind and faint, it became 
terrible. “ C’est un homme fort et brave” (“ He is 
a man brave and strong’), said John the Baptist. 
If Gilbert had been as heavy as I, we should have 
had a task indeed. I remember thinking at the 
time that it was fortunate that I wasn’t hit. 
At one time I saw Gilbert slip, and with Victor, 
who half led, half carried him, fall like a shot. 
But John the Baptist was always “well placed” 
and held them. At another time we heard a terri- 
ble uproar, and three or four rods away we saw an 
immense avalanche of stones coming down. This 
was made of a dozen large rocks of the size of a 
wagon, with hundreds of little ones yelping in the 
rear. It was a grand sight; but we were little in 
the mood for it. “ C’est une montagne terrible ” 
(“It is a terrible mountain”), said John the Baptist. 
