88 THE FOKMS OF WATER IN 



§ 32. Winter on the Mer de Glace, 



225. The winter chosen is an inclement one. There 

 is snow in London, snow in Paris, snow in Geneva ; 

 snow near Chamouni so deep that the road fences are 

 entirely effaced. On Christmas night — nearly at mid- 

 night — 1859, your deputy reaches Chamouni. 



226. The snow fell heavily on December 26 ; but on 

 the 27th, during a lull in the storm, we turn out. 

 There are with me four good guides and a porter. They 

 tie planks to their feet to prevent them from sinking 

 in the snow ; I neglect this precaution and sink often 

 to the waist. Four or five times during our ascent 

 the slope cracks with an explosive sound, and the snow 

 threatens to come down in avalanches.* 



The freshly-fallen snow was in that particular con- 

 dition which causes its granules to adhere, and hence 

 every flake falling on the trees had been retained there. 

 The laden pines presented beautiful and often fantastic 

 forms. 



227. After five hours and a half of arduous work the 

 Montanvert was attained. We unlocked the forsaken 

 auberge, round which, the snow was reared in buttresses. 

 I have already spoken of the complex play of crystallising 



* Pour years later, viz. in the spring of 1863, a mighty climber and 

 noble guide and companion of mine, named Johann Joseph Bennen, was 

 lost, through the cracking and subsequent flipping of snow on such 8 

 slope. 



