and Mont Blanc. The scene was a truly majestic one. The mighty Aiguilles piercing the sea of air, the soft white clouds floating here and there behind them; the shining snow with its striped faults and precipices; the deep blue firmament overhead; the peals of avalanches and the sound of water;—all conspired to render the scene glorious, and our enjoyment of it deep.
A voice from above hailed me as I moved from my perch; it was my friend, who had found a lodgment upon the edge of a rock which was quite detached from the Jardin, being the first to lift its head in opposition to the descending névé. Making a détour round a steep concave slope of the glacier, I reached the flat summit of the rock. The end of a ridge of ice abutted against it, which was split and bent by the pressure so as to form a kind of arch. I cut steps in the ice, and ascended until I got beneath the azure roof. Innumerable little rills of pellucid water descended from it. Some came straight down, clear for a time, and apparently motionless, rapidly tapering at first, and more slowly afterwards, until, at the point of maximum contraction, they resolved themselves into strings of liquid pearls which pattered against the ice floor underneath. Others again, owing to the directions of the little streamlets of which they were constituted, formed spiral figures of great beauty: one liquid vein wound itself round another, forming a spiral protuberance, and owing to the centrifugal motion thus imparted, the vein, at its place of rupture, scattered itself laterally in little liquid spherules.[A] Even at this great elevation the structure of the ice was fairly developed, not with the sharpness to be observed lower down, but still perfectly decided. Blue bands crossed the ridge of ice to which I have referred, at right angles to the direction of the pressure.
MORAINES OF THE TALÈFRE. 1857.
I descended, and found my friend beneath an overhanging rock. Immediately afterwards a peal like that of thunder shook the air, and right in front of us an avalanche darted down the brown cliffs, then along a steep slope of snow which reared itself against the mountain wall, carrying with it the débris of the rocks over which it passed, until it finally lay a mass of sullied rubbish at the base of the incline: the whole surface of the Talèfre is thus soiled. Another peal was heard immediately afterwards, but the avalanche which caused it was hidden from us by a rocky promontory. From this same promontory the greater portion of the medial moraine which descends the cascade of the Talèfre is derived, forming at first a gracefully winding curve, and afterwards stretching straight to the summit of the fall. In the chasms of the cascade its boulders are engulfed, but the lost moraine is restored below the fall, as if disgorged by the ice which had swallowed it. From the extremity of the Jardin itself a mere driblet of a moraine proceeds, running parallel to the former, and like it disappearing at the summit of the cascade.
AMONG THE CREVASSES. 1857.
We afterwards descended towards the cascade, but long before this is attained the most experienced iceman would find himself in difficulty. Transverse crevasses are formed, which follow each other so speedily as to leave between them mere narrow ridges of ice, along which we moved cautiously, jumping the adjacent fissures, or getting round them, as the case demanded. As we approached the jaws of the gorge, the ridges dwindled to mere plates and wedges, which being bent and broken by the lateral pressure, added to the confusion, and warned us not to advance. The position was in some measure an exciting one. Our guide had never been here before; we were far from the beaten track, and the riven glacier wore an aspect of treacherous hostility. As at the base of the séracs, a subterranean noise sometimes announced the falling of ice-blocks into hollows underneath, the existence of which the resonant concussion of the fallen mass alone revealed. There was thus a dash of awe mingled with our thoughts; a stirring up of the feelings which troubled the coolness of the intellect. We finally swerved to the right, and by a process the reverse of straightforward reached the Couvercle. Nightfall found us at the threshold of our hotel.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] The recent hydraulic researches of Professor Magnus furnish some beautiful illustrations of this action.
(10.)
ROUND HAILSTONES. 1857.
On the 5th we were engaged for some time in an important measurement at the Tacul. We afterwards ascended towards the séracs, and determined the inclinations of the Glacier du Géant downwards. Dense cloud-masses gathered round the points of the Aiguilles, and the thunder bellowed at intervals from the summit of Mont Blanc. As we descended the Mer de Glace the valley in front of us was filled with a cloud of pitchy darkness. Suddenly from side to side this field of gloom was riven by a bar of lightning of intolerable splendour; it was followed by a peal of commensurate grandeur, the echoes of which leaped from cliff to cliff long after the first sound had died away. The discharge seemed to unlock the clouds above us, for they showered their liquid spheres down upon us with a momentum like that of swan-shot: all the way home we were battered by this pellet-like rain. On the 6th the rain continued with scarcely any pause; on the 7th I was engaged all day upon the Glacier du Géant; on the morning of the 8th heavy hail had fallen there, the stones being perfect spheres; the rounded rain-drops had solidified during their descent without sensible change of form. When this hail was squeezed together, it exactly resembled a mass of oolitic limestone which I had picked up in 1853 near Blankenburg in the Hartz. Mr. Hirst and myself were engaged together this day taking the inclinations: he struck his theodolite at the Angle, and went home accompanied by Simond, and the evening being extremely serene, I pursued my way down the centre of the glacier towards the Echelets. The crevasses as I advanced became more deep and frequent, the ridges of ice between them becoming gradually narrower. They were very fine, their downward faces being clear cut, perfectly vertical, and in many cases beautifully veined. Vast plates of ice moreover often stood out midway between the walls of the chasms, as if cloven from the glacier and afterwards set on edge. The place was certainly one calculated to test the skill and nerve of an iceman; and as the day drooped, and the shadow in the valley deepened, a feeling approaching to awe took possession of me. My route was an exaggerated zigzag; right and left amid the chasms wherever a hope of progress opened; and here I made the experience which I have often repeated since, and laid to heart as regards intellectual work also, that enormous difficulties may be overcome when they are attacked in earnest. Sometimes I found myself so hedged in by fissures that escape seemed absolutely impossible; but close and resolute examination so often revealed a means of exit, that I felt in all its force the brave verity of the remark of Mirabeau, that the word "impossible" is a mere blockhead of a word. It finally became necessary to reach the shore, but I found this a work of extreme difficulty. At length, however, it became pretty evident that, if I could cross a certain crevasse, my retreat would be secured. A DANGEROUS LEAP. 1857. The width of the fissure seemed to be fairly within jumping distance, and if I could have calculated on a safe purchase for my foot I should have thought little of the spring; but the ice on the edge from which I was to leap was loose and insecure, and hence a kind of nervous thrill shot through me as I made the bound. The opposite side was fairly reached, but an involuntary tremor shook me all over after I felt myself secure. I reached the edge of the glacier without further serious difficulty, and soon after found myself steeped in the creature comforts of our hotel.
On Monday, August 10th, I had the great pleasure of being joined by my friend Huxley; and though the weather was very unpromising, we started together up the glacier, he being desirous to learn something of its general features, and, if possible, to reach the Jardin. We reached the Couvercle, and squeezed ourselves through the Egralets; but here the rain whizzed past us, and dense fog settled upon the cascade of the Talèfre, obscuring all its parts. We met Mr. Galton, the African traveller, returning from an attempt upon the Jardin; and learning that his guides