CHAPTER XXII.

PERILS OF MOUNTAIN AND DESERT.

Creation a Museum of the Marvelous-Awful Mountain Peaks with Veiled FacesMont Blanc-Sovereign of Mountains-Attempt to Ascend the Giant of the Alps-Ambitious Young Naturalist-A Complete Failure--Snowy ChasmsAfraid to Sleep-Determined to Conquer or Die-Trembling on the Mountain's Edge—Adventures of Jacques Balmat-Blinded by Exposure-Daring Expedition-Scaling Snowy Precipices-On the Far Summit-Miserable End of Balmat-World Startled by an Alpine Tragedy-A Russian Traveller-Twelve Guides "Cowards!"-Forward—An Awful Disaster-Hurled Headlong Hundreds of Feet-Death in the Deep Abyss-Bodies Left in the Yawning GulfRunning Frightful Risks-Miraculous Escapes-Recent Ghastly DiscoveriesRivers of Ice-Famous Mer De Glace-Flower Garden in a Desert of SnowHospital of St. Bernard-Travellers Caught in the Storm-The Great St. Bernard Dog-Rescuing the Perishing-Exploits of the Dog "Bass"-Dangers of the Desert-Cyclones and Columns of Hot Sand-Air that Scorches Man and Beast-Graphic Description of the Storm-Adventures in Africa-Zambesi FallsPerilous Ascent of a Nile Cataract.

M

YRIADS of interesting and curious discoveries, facts and marvels, have already excited our astonishment and admiration in these pages. If there is anything in the whole world to cause surprise, impart useful information, captivate the imagination, hold the reader spell-bound, and so fascinate him as to render him eager for each new disclosure, we are confident that it is to be found in this volume, which may justly be called an epitome of the marvelous in every realm of creation.

But before passing to the second book, and diving into the manifold mysteries of the vasty deep, that great storehouse of wonders, we are to complete our survey of the land by a tour of the mountains and deserts. Behold, then, the awful peaks whose bald heads vail their faces at times with clouds, and the wide, sandy plains, those oceans on shore, as they may properly be called, which abide from age to age in their forbidding desolation and solitude! These must not be overlooked.

Mont Blanc, as far as Europe is concerned, may justly be sung as—

The Monarch of mountains,

which the genius of nature crowned

On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,

With a diadem of snow.

Let us examine some of the narratives of the different attempts which

have been made at various epochs to climb this immense colossal mass, regarded as inaccessible by man until the close of the last century.

The summit of Mont Blanc is 15,739 feet above the sea-level. Prior to the celebrated Horace Benedict de Saussure, no person had conceived the idea of climbing its scarped flank. It was not even known whether the rarefaction of the air at elevations so lofty would not prove fatal to human life.

Saussure was not twenty years old when he first dreamed of attacking the giant of the Alps. In his first visit to Chamouni, in 1760, the young naturalist published it abroad in all parts of the valley that he would give a sufficient reward to the guides who discovered a practicable route to Mont Blanc. He even promised to pay the day's wages of those whose attempts proved fruitless. But his liberal offers led to no result.

It was not until fifteen years afterwards, in 1775, that four guides of Chamouni succeeded in making the perilous ascent. After triumphing over the obstacles which opposed their progress on the glaciers, incessantly intersected by immense crevasses, the four guides penetrated into a great valley of snow, which seemed as if it would directly approach Mont Blanc. The weather was exceedingly favorable; they encountered neither too precipitous slopes nor too wide crevasses, and apparently all things promised success. But. the rarefaction of the air, and the reverberation of the sun's rays on the dazzling surface, fatigued them beyond endurance. Succumbing to weakness and weariness, they found themselves constrained to re-descend, without having met with any insuperable obstacle.

An Attempt Ending in Failure.

Seven years later, three other guides of Chamouni, made the same attempt, following in the track of their predecessors; only they took the precaution of passing the night on the Montagne de la Côte, and did not venture until the following morning upon the glacier which ascends from it.

After traversing it in safety, they followed up the vale of snows which rises towards Mont Blanc. They had already reached a great elevation, and were pressing forward in blithe confidence, when the boldest and most courageous among them was suddenly seized with an unconquerable longing for sleep. He begged of his comrades to continue the ascent without him; but they refused to abandon him in such a condition, or to suffer him, as he wished, to sleep on the snow. Renouncing their enterprise, they all returned to Chamouni.

It is certain that even without the accident of this inopportune lethargy, these three men could never have reached the goal of their adventurous expedition. They would have still had a long distance to travel before

arriving at Mont Blanc, and the heat fatigued them excessively. Moreover, they were without appetite; the wine and the provisions which they carried possessed no attractions for them. So that one said seriously that if he had to recommence the enterprise, he would not load himself with any provisions, but take only an umbrella and a smelling-bottle. When we picture to ourselves a robust mountaineer scaling the slopes of the Alps with an umbrella in one hand and a flask of eau de Cologne in the other, we gain, by this singular image, a vivid idea of the anomalous difficulties and unfamiliar conditions which are associated with the adventure.

Looking at the annexed engraving, the reader will be able by the figures to locate the various mountains as named below :

1. Mont Blanc, 15.739 feet.-2. Dôme du Gouter, 14,400 feet.-3. Aiguille du Gouter, 15,550 feet.-4. Glacier des Bossons.-5. Glacier de Tacconay.-6. Aiguille du Midi, 12,850 feet.—7. Chaine du Brévent et des Aiguilles Rouges.

Again Compelled to Retreat.

On the 12th of September, 1785, at eight o'clock in the morning, Saussure and Bourrit, Canon of Cologne, accompanied by five mountaineers loaded with provisions, furs and coverings, philosophical instruments, straw and fuel, began their march to the conquest of Mont Blanc.

After five hours of this fatiguing labor, the incline gradually grew steeper, and the quantity of fresh snow augmented at each step. Balmat, therefore, went forward to survey the remainder of the ascent, but speedily returned with the information that the newly fallen snow was so dense in the upper parts that the summit could not be attained except at the risk of life, and that the mountain-peak was covered two feet deep in snow, which rendered progress impossible. His gaiters were, in fact, covered with snow even above the knee.

Great as was the regret which they experienced in abandoning an enterprise so auspiciously commenced, Saussure and Bourrit wisely resolved to prosecute it no further. At the point where they halted the barometer showed an elevation of 11,250 feet. The guides now urged an immediate departure. The sun's rays had melted the snows and rendered the descent dangerous. But walking cautiously, and supported by their guides, the travellers returned without accident to the plateau at the base of the Aiguille du Goûter, and thence re-descended to the cabin.

The rock on which this enterprise had been wrecked was the lateness of the season. Saussure resolved to repeat the attempt in the following year, but at an epoch which should render less probable and less formid

able the obstacle of fresh-fallen snow. As a preliminary, and to lighten as far as might be the fatigue of the last day's ascent, he ordered his favorite guide, Pierre Balmat, to construct a new hut at a point considerably above the Pierre-Ronde—that is, at the foot of one of the ridges of the Aiguille du Goûter. He recommended him at the same time to make various explorations on that part of the mountain, so as to determine on the most feasible route.

Pierre Balmat took to himself two other guides, and on the 6th of Ju'y 1786, they went to pass the night in the hut at the Pierre-Ronde. They started at day-break, and following the same track which Saussure had taken, ascended to the Aiguille, and finally to the Dôme du Goûter; but not without severe suffering from the rarefaction of the air.

While Pierre Balmat and his friends were ascending the Aiguille du Goûter by the incline of the Pierre Ronde, three other Chamouni guides. attempted it by another route. As it was then believed that the Dôme du Goûter was the only way by which Mont Blanc could be approached, some of the Chamouni guides had divided into two troops to test the comparative facilities of the two routes leading to the Dôme. François Paccard, Michel Cachat (surnamed The Giant), and Joseph Carrier, composed the second detachment. They were joined by another guide, Jacques Balmat, who for some years had been independently seeking the road to Mont Blanc, and for whom was reserved the glory of first discovering it.

Risking Life on the Mountain's Edge.

The two groups of guides having reunited, traversed a vast snowfield, and gained the long ridge which connects the Dôme du Goûter with Mont Blanc. But this ridge, which strikes between two precipices, each 6000 feet in height, is so narrow, and of so abrupt an ascent, that it proved utterly impracticable to reach Mont Blanc by it. The guides only acknowledged this evident fact with much reluctance. Jacques Balmat, however, persisted in continuing the adventure. He risked his life on the narrow ridge, and to move forward was obliged to place himself on allfours upon the species of dos dane (ass's back) formed by this terrible escarpment. His companions, frightened at his temerity, abandoned him, and redescended to Chamouni.

After brave but fruitless efforts, Jacques Balmat was forced to desist from his impossible enterprise. He retraced his steps, still straddling along the ridge, like a child on his grandfather's stick. But he found himself deserted by his companions, who, we may add, felt no great sympathy for him, because he had followed them without their consent. The gallant mountaineer, piqued by their cowardly abandonment, resolved to remain