Blond.
CHAPTER III
SOME AVALANCHE ADVENTURES
WE should never have got into such a position, but when definite orders are not carried out the General must not be blamed. The adventure might easily have cost all three of us our lives.
This is how we came to be imperilling our necks on an incoherent snow-ridge 13,000 feet above the sea. It was the end of September, and my two guides and I were waiting at Zermatt to try the Dent Blanche, a proceeding which, later on, was amply justified by success. Much fresh snow had recently fallen, and the slopes of the mountains were running down towards the valleys faster than the most active chamois could have galloped up them. Idleness is an abomination to the keen climber, and doubly so if he be an enthusiastic photographer, and the sun shone each day from a cloudless sky. Something had to be done, but what could we choose? All the safe second-class ascents up which one might wade through fresh snow without risk, we had accomplished over and over again. Something new to us was what we wanted, and what eventually we found in the stately Hohberghorn. Now this peak is seldom ascended. It is overtopped by two big neighbours, and until these have been done, no one is likely to climb the less imposing peak. Furthermore, the Hohberghorn is a grind, and though we got enough excitement and to spare out of it, yet in our case the circumstances were peculiar. The view was certain to be grand, and, faute de mieux, we decided to start for it.
On this occasion, in addition to my guide of many years’ standing, the famous Joseph Imboden of St. Nicholas, I had a second man, who had a great local reputation in his native valley at the other end of Switzerland (and deservedly so, as far as his actual climbing ability was concerned), but who had never been on a rope with Imboden before. This was the cause of the appalling risk we ran during our expedition. We arrived in good time at the hut, and found another party, who proposed going up the Dom, the highest mountain entirely in Switzerland (14,900 feet) next day. Our way lay together for a couple of hours over the great glacier, and we proceeded the following morning in magnificent weather towards our respective peaks.
It was heavy work ploughing our way through the soft new snow, and we could not advance except very slowly. As a result, it was already mid-day when we gained the ridge of the Hohberghorn, not far below the summit. The sun streamed pitilessly down, the snow cracked and slipped at every step. To understand what followed, our position must now be made clear. Imboden, who led, was on the very crest of the ridge. Next to him on the rope, at a distance of about 20 feet, was my place, also on the ridge. At an equal distance behind me was the second guide. He was a trifle below the ridge, on the side to our left. We stood still for a moment, and then Imboden distinctly but very quietly remarked to the other man, “Be on your guard. At any moment now we may expect an avalanche.” I never to this day can understand how he failed to grasp what this meant. It should have been obvious that it was a warning to look out, and at the first sign of approaching danger to step down on to the other side of the ridge. Had not this been a perfectly simple thing to do, we should not have continued the ascent, but the second guide failed us hopelessly when the critical moment came. Imboden, to avoid a small cornice or overhanging eave of snow to our right, now took a few steps along and below the ridge to the left, while the man behind me came in the tracks to the crest, and I followed the leader. From this position the last man could in an instant have been down the slope to his right, and have held us with the greatest ease.
We advanced a yard or two further, and then the entire surface upon which we stood commenced to move! A moment more and we were struggling for our lives, dashing our axes through the rushing snow, and endeavouring to arrest our wild career, which, unless checked at once, would cause us to be precipitated down the entire face of the mountain, to the glacier below. Then it was that the firm bed of snow beneath the newer layer stood us in good stead. Our axes held, and, breathless, bruised and startled, we found ourselves clinging to the slope, while the avalanche, momentarily increasing in volume, thundered down towards the snow-fields below, where at length, heaped high against the mountain-side, it came to rest.
We now took stock of the position. We were practically unhurt, but so confused and rapid had been the slip that the rope was entangled round us in a manner wonderful to behold. There was nothing to prevent us reaching the summit, for every atom of fresh snow had been swept away from the slope, so we continued our climb, and soon were able to rest on the top. To this day, Imboden and I always look back to our adventure on the Hohberghorn as the greatest peril either of us has ever faced.
More than one instance has been recorded where, owing to the prompt action of the last man on the rope, fatal accidents on snow-ridges have been avoided. The two most famous occasions in Alpine annals[2] were when Hans Grass saved his party on Piz Palü, and when Ulrich Almer performed his marvellous feat on the Gabelhorn. It is true that in both these cases the risk was due to the breaking away of a snow-cornice, but the remedy was exactly the same as it ought to have been when our avalanche was started.
I have only to add that we found the other party at the hut, much exhausted by their unsuccessful attempt on the Dom, and very anxious on our account, as they both heard and saw the avalanche which had so nearly ended our mountaineering career.
The famous climber, Mr. Tuckett, has very kindly allowed me to quote from Peaks, Passes, and Glaciers, the following description of a narrow escape from an avalanche while descending the Aletschhorn:
“We had accomplished in safety a distance of scarcely more than 150 yards when, as I was looking at the Jungfrau, my attention was attracted by a sudden exclamation from Victor, who appeared to stagger and all but lose his balance. At first, the idea of some sort of seizure or an attack of giddiness presented itself, but, without stopping to enquire, I at once turned round, drove my good 8-foot ash-pole as deeply as possible through the surface layer of fresh snow into the firmer stratum beneath, tightened the rope to give Victor support, and shouted to Peter to do the same. All this was the work of an instant, and a glance at once showed me what had happened. Victor was safe for the moment, but a layer or couche of snow, 10 inches to a foot in thickness, had given way exactly beneath his feet, and first gently, and then fleet as an arrow, went gliding down, with that unpleasant sound somewhat resembling the escape of steam, which is so trying to the nerves of the bravest man, when he knows its full and true significance. At first a mass 80 to 100 yards in breadth and 10 or 15 in length alone gave way, but the contagion spread, and ere another minute had elapsed the slopes right and left of us for an extent of at least half a mile, were in movement, and, like a frozen Niagara, went crashing down the ice-precipices and séracs that still lay between us and the Aletsch glacier, 1800 to 2000 feet below. The spectacle was indescribably sublime, and the suspense for a moment rather awful, as we were clinging to an incline at least as steep as that on the Grindelwald side of the Strahleck—to name a familiar example—and it was questionable whether escape would be possible, if the layer of snow on the portion of the slope we had just been traversing should give way before we could retrace our steps.
“Not a moment was to be lost; no word was spoken after the first exclamation, and hastily uttered, ‘Au col! et vite!’ and then in dead silence, with bâtons held aloft like harpoons, ready to be plunged into the lower and older layers of snow, we stole quietly but rapidly up towards the now friendly-looking corniche, and in a few minutes stood once more in safety on the ridge, with feelings of gratitude for our great deliverance, which, though they did not find utterance
