danger. The Tyrolean took leave of us,
convinced at last that I should get out of the affair. As for the
guides, they gave vent to their feelings in shouts of joy. They said
that, in recognition of my self-reliance, they would entrust to me the
direction of the enterprise. After crossing the Mer de Glace, we began
to climb the steep slopes of the Ziegenberg.

[Illustration: GENEVA AND MONT BLANC.]

"For a long time the songs, a thousand times repeated, continued to
answer each other from side to side of the glacier. Then we could hear
no longer the voice of men, nor the bell of the church of Grindelwald,
whose melancholy notes the wind had hitherto wafted to us. We were in
the bosom of an immense wilderness, face to face with Heaven and the
wonders of Nature. We scaled precipitous blocks of stone, and left
behind us the snowy summits. The march became more and more painful. We
crawled on hands and feet, we glided like cats, leaped from one rock to
another like squirrels. Frequently, a handful of moss or a clump of
brushwood was our sole support, where we found no cracks or crevices.
Drops of blood often tinted, like purple flowers, the verdure we crushed
under foot. When this was wanting we contrived to balance ourselves on
the rock by the help of our alpenstocks, having recourse as seldom as
possible to one another's arms, for fear of dragging the whole company
into the abyss. Hundreds of feet below us glittered the deep crevasses
of the glacier, in which the rays of the sun disported. The cold winds,
blowing from the frozen heights, scarcely cooled our foreheads. We were
streaming with perspiration, but our gaiety increased, instead of
diminishing, with the dangers. When we came to a stretch of granite, our
speed was doubled, and whoever first set foot upon it would announce the
fact to the others. There we slipped but seldom, and by assisting one
another, we could walk erect and more quickly. Bohren the younger, who
was one of our porters and the youngest of the company, continued his
merry song. In moments of peril his voice acquired a decided quaver, but
he never paused in his march or in his cadences, and never fell back a
step.

"The prospect, which embraced the whole valley, was magnificent. We
could perceive the chalets of Grindelwald, like miniatures sprinkled
over the greensward. My guides exclaimed, 'Ah, it is from the height of
the heavens that we behold our wives!' And we continued our ascent,
leaving b