bolic. There was some infernal wizardry of
cloud-making going on about that spear-head. The wind blew to us across
the Zmutt Valley. Nevertheless, the wind above the Roof, as they call
it, was blowing in every direction, and the live wisps of newborn cloud
went in and out like the shuttles of a loom. I came to the conclusion
that this was a particularly devilish, uncanny sort of show, and stared
at it open-eyed. But I was comforted by the thought that the Pollingers
were rapidly coming to the belief that this was not the sort of day to
go any higher. I was quite angry when they declared we could do it
easily. For I knew better, or my disturbed mind thought I did. This was
the absolutely unknown to me, and their experience was nothing to my
alarmed instincts. I was sure that my ancestors had lived on plains, and
now I was dragging them into dangers that they knew nothing of.
Nevertheless, I told the guides to go on. I spoke with a kind of eager
interest and desperation. For, indeed, it was most appallingly
interesting. We came to the slabs where the ropes made the Matterhorn so
easy, as I had been told. I wished that some of those who believed this
were with me.

But with the fixed ropes to lay hold of I climbed fast. I relinquished
such holds upon solidity with reluctance. That yonder was the top, said
my men, but for fully half a minute I declined to go any further. For it
was quite obvious to me that I should never get down again. But again I
shrugged my shoulders and went on. I might just as well do the whole
thing. And sensation followed sensation. My mind was like a slow plate
taking one photograph on top of the other. It was like wax, something
new stamped out the last minute's impression. I heard my guides telling
me that we must get to the summit because the people in Zermatt would be
looking through telescopes. I did not care how many people looked
through telescopes. So far as I was concerned the moon-men might be
doing the same. I was one of three balancing fools on a rope.

And then we came to the heavy snow on the little five-fold curving
_arete_ that is the summit. Within a stone's throw of the top I declared
again that I was quite high enough to satisfy me, but with a little more
persuasion I went across the last three-foot ridge of snow, reached the
top and sat down.

The folks at Zermatt were staring, no doubt, but I had nothing to do
with them. Let them look if they wished to. For it was impossible t