great effort managed to swing myself round.
“Luckily there was a ledge near me, and so, getting some hand-hold, I was soon able to ease the strain on the rope. A few moments later I struggled a little way up, and at last handed to Zurbriggen the ice axes, which I had managed to keep hold of throughout my fall. In fact, my thoughts had been centred on them during the whole of the time. We were in too bad a place to stop to speak to one another; but Zurbriggen, climbing up a bit further, got himself into a firm position, and I scrambled up after him, so that in about ten minutes we had passed this steep bit.
“We now sat for a moment to recover ourselves, for our nerves had been badly shaken by what had so nearly proved a fatal accident. At the time everything happened so rapidly that we had not thought much of it, more especially as we knew that we needed to keep our nerve and take immediate action; but once it was all over we both felt the effects, and sat for about half an hour before we could even move again. I learned that Zurbriggen, the moment I fell, had snatched up the coil of rope which lay at his feet, and had luckily succeeded in getting hold of the right end first, so that he was soon able to bring me nearly to rest; but the pull upon him was so great, and he was so badly placed, that he had to let the rope slip through his fingers, removing all the skin, in order to ease the strain while he braced himself in a better position, from which he was able finally to stop me. He told me that had I not been able to turn and grasp the rocks he must inevitably have been dragged from his foot-hold, as the ledge upon which he stood was literally crumbling away beneath his feet. We discovered that two strands of the rope had been cut through by the falling rock, so that I had been suspended in mid-air by a single strand.”
The remainder of the way was far from easy, but without further mishap the party eventually gained the summit.
That there are many grades of Alpine guides was amusingly exemplified once upon a time at the Montanvert, where in front of the hotel stood the famous Courmazeur guide, Emil Rey (afterwards killed on the Dent du Géant), talking to the Duke of Abruzzi and other first-rate climbers, while a little way off lounged some extremely indifferent specimens of the Chamonix Societé des Guides. Presently a tourist, got up with much elegance, and leaning on a tall stick surmounted by a chamois horn, appeared upon the scene, and addressed himself to Emil Rey. “Combien pour traverser la Mer de Glace?” he enquired.
“Monsieur,” replied Rey, removing his hat with one hand and with the other indicating the group hard by, “voila les guides pour la Mer de Glace! Moi, je suis pour la grande montagne!”
One of the most wonderful escapes in the whole annals of mountaineering was that of a young Englishman, Mr. Sloggett, and the well-known guide, Auguste Gentinetta, the second guide, Alphons Fürrer, being killed on the spot. They had made a successful ascent of the Matterhorn on 27th July 1900, and were the first of three parties on the descent. When nearly down the mountain, not far from the Hörnli ridge, an avalanche of stones and rocks swept them off their feet. Fürrer’s skull was smashed, and he was killed immediately, and the three, roped together, were precipitated down a wall of ice. Their axes were wrenched from their grasp, and they could do nothing to check themselves. Gentinetta retained full consciousness during the whole of that awful descent, and while without the slightest hope that they could escape with their lives, he in no way lost his presence of mind. About 800 feet below the spot where their fall commenced was a small Bergschrund, or crack across the ice. This was full of stones and sand, and into it the helpless climbers were flung; had they shot over it nothing in this world could have saved them. Gentinetta, though much bruised and knocked about, had no bones broken, and he at once took means to prevent an even worse disaster than that which had already happened, for Mr. Sloggett had fallen head downwards, with his face buried in sand, and was on the point of suffocation. Well was it for him that his guide was a man of promptness and courage. Without losing an instant Gentinetta pulled up his traveller and got his face free, clearing the sand out of his mouth, and doing all that mortal could for him. Mr. Sloggett’s jaw and two of his teeth were broken, but his other injuries were far less than might have been expected. Nevertheless, the position of the two survivors was still a most perilous one. They were exactly at the spot on to which almost every stone which detached itself from that side of the mountain was sure to fall, and their ice axes were lost, rendering it almost impossible for them to work their way to a place of safety. Still, to his infinite credit, the guide did not lose heart. By some means, which he now declares he is unable to understand, he contrived to climb, and to assist his gentleman, up that glassy, blood-stained wall, which even for a party uninjured, and properly equipped, it would have been no light task to surmount. This desperate achievement was rendered doubly trying by Gentinetta’s being perfectly aware that if any more stones fell the two mountaineers must inevitably be swept away for the second time. At last they gained their tracks and sought a sheltered spot, where they could safely rest a little. Here they were joined by the other parties, who rendered invaluable help during the rest of the descent. The two sufferers finally arrived at the Schwarzsee Hotel, whence they were carried down the same evening to Zermatt.
