CHAPTER IX.

VAL TOURNANCHE.

Châlets

Valtournanche-Pass of Mont Cervin - Arrangements for ascent of Breuil- Sunrise - Ascent of Glacier-Col St. Théodule - Meynet's cabin-Scene from summit - Mont Cervin -- An ascent of the Breithorn - Animal and vegetable life - Earthquake - Return to Valtournanche Night quarters - Descent to Châtillon-Geology — Val d'Aosta Châtillon.

ON approaching Valtournanche, we soon found we had left for a time the unfrequented recesses we had been traversing, for the track of tourists. Of this we had unmistakeable evidence in the importunities of guides and beggars-the pests of the Swiss traveller, and imported over the Alps, or, at least, the fashion of them, with pretentious hotels, inconsiderate Englishmen, extortionate charges, and other advances of civilization.

The Val Tournanche leads by the great pass of the Mont Cervin, or Col St. Théodule, at the head of it, over to Zermatt, in the Valais. Though one of the highest passes in the Alps-about 11,000 feet—and not without danger, unless proper precautions are taken, as evinced by the frequent loss of life on it-yet it has become much better known of late years, and the number of travellers who attempt it is continually increasing.

Formerly the curé at Valtournanche used to entertain strangers, but we found a small house had recently been roughly fitted up there as an inn, with the title of the Hôtel du Mont Cervin; the landlord of which seemed to doubt whether the very short season, little more than a month or six weeks, would remunerate him for his outlay and the additional expense of licences from Government and the

Commune, which cost him 60 francs. Our beds were shown us in the two corners of the room used as the salle à manger, -one a berth in the wall, as in a Highland cabin; but they answered all the purpose, and, moreover, were tolerably clean. To give him his due, the owner was most anxious to do his best and make the most of his humble resources. Before long he appeared with an omelette-which always made us a good meal when meat was not to be had - and some wine, at a franc and a half, better than any we had got at Aosta. We had had a long walk as well as fast since leaving St. Barthélemy at seven in the morning, E. having only ridden a few miles at starting. She, however, felt no fatigue, and we therefore at once determined to lose no time and ascend the Cervin Pass next morning, if fine. I accordingly engaged a guide, Auguste Meynet, a friend of Barailler's, to go with us to the summit and back, at a charge of 10 francs, with a mule and muleteer for E. for 6 francsfair and just prices, and any attempt at charging more ought to be resisted.

After we had supped, Barailler and Charlet begged permission to come in and speak to us. The "old soldier ” had already received well-earned thanks for his extreme civility and attention, and we supposed they had come to say goodbye. But Barailler informed us they were so unwilling to leave us that they hoped we would allow them to accompany us, as volunteers, to the Cervin, which neither of them had ever seen, and they would do all they could to be of use in any way. We were only too glad to have our faithful guide for another day, as we had become really attached to him for his excellent qualities, though on so short an acquaintance. It was accordingly settled to the satisfaction of both parties. Barailler was charged with seeing to our being called and the mule ready at two in the morning, that we might make as early a start as possible; and, after barring the door with my alpenstock, we crept into our narrow beds

shortly after nine. The rain pattered against the windows heavily, and all was dark without, but the guides said it would certainly be clear the next day, and we slept soundly on the faith of their assurances.

At half-past two, when we looked outside the door, the heavy midnight shower had passed off; it was a glorious night, the sky cloudless, and the fresh rain-drops sparkled in a brilliant moonlight which made the valley almost as light as day. We were eager to be off; and after we had breakfasted on coffee and fresh eggs-a luxury after our mountain fare-the vasculum was filled with hard-boiled eggs, the remains of the omelette, and a couple of bottles of wine for the party; the mule was saddled, and we started a little after three.

Our party now consisted of six, Meynet as guide-with a stout set of glacier ropes coiled round him, and a well-shod alpenstock for E.-Baraillet, Charlet, the muleteer, and our two selves. We climbed steadily up the ascent to Breuil as the full moon rode high above the mountains, and the trees, châlets, and ripe patches of corn perched on the steep mountain sides, were almost as clear as day in the floods of light. The rocky track mounted rapidly, the valley contracting as we ascended, the rocks becoming grander and hemming in the head of the valley. After entering them by a narrow gorge, the torrent of the Tournanche rushed furiously through a chasm far below our feet, and was lost in deep darkness.

As daylight began to struggle with the paling moonbeams it became very chilly, and E. was glad of all the spare wraps we carried. We passed the little chapel, beautifully situated, of Notre Dame de la Garde. The rocks on either side of us were of various kinds of serpentine, finely tinted. At length the head of the valley opened out into a small plain, with the châlets of Breuil at the upper end, and the grand pyramid of the far-famed Cervin towered into the air before us in colossal magnificence. The afternoon before, it had

been veiled in clouds as we ascended the valley, and it now burst on us with the more striking effect. To the eye accustomed to estimate mountain-heights and their proportions, this grand peak, each time it is seen, appears the more overwhelming, and in the clear morning air the first glimpse of it almost startled us, often as we had seen it.

A noble panorama rapidly opened out before us of mountains and glaciers. High on our left rose the abruptly wild ranges separating us from the Valpellina, and with the outlines of which we had become familiar from Prerayen, which lay just on the other side. On one of the loftiest of them is a smooth dome of snow, out of which rise some singular bare rocks, which Meynet pointed out as the Château des Dames ; and they certainly had a remarkable resemblance to ladies marching up the snow to an Alpine castle. Round the flank of this is one of the passes from Prerayen to Breuil, already mentioned in the Val Biona. On this side it did not seem so difficult as from the other. Several glaciers filled the ravines, not large but interesting, and one in especial, with its beautifully white and broken surface like a mass of enor mous curds.

We reached the châlets of Breuil in two hours from Valtournanche, when our guides went in to breakfast on polenta, while we halted by a little chapel, where several peasants were silently performing their early devotions. The valley opened out wide to the eastward, above which rose a swelling glacier range of vast width. The glowing rays of the rising sun soon shot up behind the snow-crest, and quickly dispelled the cold grey tints of early morning, fringing the ridge with a singularly defined edge of brilliant light—until the great orb suddenly uprose, red and frosty-looking as on a January morning.

As soon as our guides rejoined us, we took up a steep incline of grassy knolls, and the glacier of St. Théodule gradually came into full view-a wide dazzling sheet of snow.