left prominent with its protector on the top. The
sides of the block of ice on which the rock has rested have also melted
slowly, reducing it to the stalk or pillar which you now see. In time
it will melt so much that the rock will slide off, fall on another part
of the ice, which it will protect from the sun as before until another
stem shall support it, and thus it will go on until it tumbles into a
crevasse, reaches the under part of the glacier, perhaps there gets
rolled and rounded into a boulder, and finally is discharged, many years
hence, it may be, into the terminal moraine; or, perchance, it may get
stranded on the sides of the valley among the _debris_ or rubbish which
we call the lateral moraine."

As the party advanced, new, and, if possible; still more striking
objects met the eye, while mysterious sounds struck the ear. Low
grumbling noises and gurglings were heard underfoot, as if great
boulders were dropping into buried lakes from the roofs of sub-glacial
caverns, while, on the surface, the glacier was strewn here and there
with _debris_ which had fallen from steep parts of the mountains that
rose beside them into the clouds. Sudden rushing sounds--as if of
short-lived squalls, in the midst of which were crashes like the thunder
of distant artillery--began now to attract attention, and a feeling of
awe crept into the hearts of those of the party who were strangers to
the ice-world. Sounds of unseen avalanches, muffled more or less
according to distance, were mingled with what may be called the shots of
the boulders, which fell almost every five minutes from the Aiguille
Verte and other mountains, and there was something deeply impressive in
the solemn echoes that followed each deep-toned growl, and were repeated
until they died out in soft murmurs.

As the party crossed an ice-plain, whose surface was thickly strewn with
the wreck of mountains, a sense of insecurity crept into the feelings of
more than one member of it but not a word was said until a sudden and
tremendous crash, followed by a continuous roar, was heard close at
hand.

"An avalanche!" shouted Slingsby, pointing upwards, and turning back
with the evident intention to fly.

It did indeed seem the wisest thing that man or woman could do in the
circumstances, for, high up among the wild cliffs, huge masses of rock,
mingled with ice, dirt, water, and snow, were seen rushing down a
"couloir," or steep gully, straight towards them.