in the sunshine,
some sketching or collecting--and when the sun went down, giving, as it
departed, a glorious promise for the morrow, we returned to the tent to
arrange for the night. Hudson made tea, I coffee, and we then retired
each one to his blanket-bag, the Taugwalders, Lord Francis Douglas and
myself occupying the tent, the others remaining, by preference, outside.
Long after dusk the cliffs above echoed with our laughter and with the
songs of the guides, for we were happy that night in camp, and feared no
evil.

We assembled together outside the tent before dawn on the morning of the
14th, and started directly it was light enough to move. Young Peter came
on with us as a guide, and his brother returned to Zermatt. We followed
the route which had been taken on the previous day, and in a few minutes
turned the rib which had intercepted the view of the eastern face from
our tent platform. The whole of this great slope was now revealed,
rising for three thousand feet like a huge natural staircase. Some parts
were more and others were less easy, but we were not once brought to a
halt by any serious impediment, for when an obstruction was met in front
it could always be turned to the right or to the left.

For the greater part of the way there was indeed no occasion for the
rope, and sometimes Hudson led, sometimes myself. At 6:20 we had
attained a height of twelve thousand eight hundred feet, and halted for
half an hour; we then continued the ascent without a break until 9:55,
when we stopt for fifty minutes at a height of fourteen thousand feet.
Twice we struck the northeastern ridge, and followed it for some little
distance--to no advantage, for it was usually more rotten and steep, and
always more difficult, than the face. Still, we kept near to it, lest
stones perchance might fall.

We had now arrived at the foot of that part which, from the Riffelberg
or from Zermatt, seems perpendicular or overhanging, and could no longer
continue upon the eastern side. For a little distance we ascended by
snow upon the arete--that is, the ridge--descending toward Zermatt, and
then by common consent turned over to the right, or to the northern
side. Before doing so we made a change in the order of ascent. Croz went
first, I followed, Hudson came third; Hadow and old Peter were
last. "Now," said Croz as he led off--"now for something altogether
different." The work became difficult, and required caution. In some
places there