src="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@43314@43314-h@images@i_027c_sml.jpg" alt="At the end of a hot day." tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}img"/>
At the end of a hot day.

An instant’s halt to choose the best way up a steep wall of rock.

The ice-axes are stowed away in a crack, to be brought up by the last man.
To face p. 6.

“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!”

Auguste Gentinetta, of Zermatt, 1903.

Auguste Gentinetta on the way to the Matterhorn.

The climb up the Matterhorn by the ordinary Swiss route begins at the rocky corner to the left of the picture.

The BERGSCHRUND, open when the accident to Mr. Sloggett’s party took place, was above the ice cliff below which the man is standing.
To face p. 8.

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