Te Aroha & Ohinemuri News

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 450, 1 March 1890, Page 3

Te Aroha & Ohinemuri News

SUITED BY MRS FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT [COPYRIGHT.] [Ak Rights Reserved] in Perils Oft. Rv Thomas Stanj.ev, Author of ‘ A Merciless Virgin.’

Tom Ken vox never felt so unwilling to get up as ho did one morning early in September, 18—. He and Frank Martin had settled to mak9 the ascent of the Fisch Horn ; they had arranged it with the guide, Jules Lessoie ; and they had ordered the ‘ boots ’ of the hotel to call them at three o clock in the morning. . , , Tom Kenyon was in the middle of a most delightful dream. He was in a terraced ■garden, a flowery paradise, made on the side of a lofty hill ; the sun was brilliant, the sky a deep blue, bright-plumaged birds flew here and there, and. others sang bewitching melodies; gorgeous butterflies, and grasshoppers with wings of vivid hues of red and blue, filled the air with ceaseless motion, now poising on the still more vividcoloured, flowers, now settling on the ground. _ .... A deep valley lay at the foot of the hill, and at its far end gleaming snow mountains gave enchantment to the distant view. The winding river that flowed along the valley seemed a silver torrent pouring directly from those lofty glittering summits. Tom strolled, or rather glided along in ecstasy as he dreamed. ‘ Drei Uhr’ (three o’clock) a gruff voice shouted, and Tom awoke. After a bit he remembered where he was, and the proposed expedition. He jumped out of bed and pulled up the blind. It was as dark as pitch, and it seemed to him that it was raining. ‘ What a fool I was.’thouglit Tom, ‘ to say [ would be called so early. I have a good mind to go to bed again until daylight—this mountaineering is all very fine, but getting up in the middle of the night takes all the enjoyment out of life." He woke Frank Marshall, who was sleeping in the same room. Frank grunted horribly at being disturbed. He was several years older than Kenyon, and he was a practised mountaineer, but for all that he did not like such abnormal earlyrising. They were soon both dressed, and they went down to breakfast. j No one else was up. The old ‘ boots brought them their breakfast. They were not hungry. ‘I should like to know who is hungry in the middle of the night, after a table d’hote dinner the evening before ?’ said Tom Kenyon. , „ * Never mind that,’ said Marshall ; you must eat something.’ At the entrance to the hotel they found their guide, Jules Lessore. Jules greeted them with his amiable smile. Jules was a handsome, good-natured fellow, and there was an expression of great cheerfulness on his clearly-cufcfeatures this gloomy morning. t was impossible to depress Jules, and, in addition to his bright spirits, he was as strong and bold as a lion, and as active as a cab. - . ‘Good morning, gentlemen," said Jules ; ‘ we will have a nice little bit of rock climbing.’ Bv four o’clock they started. There was a slightrain falling, but Jules declared that it would clear up. On leaving the hotel they turned to the left, and for a mile or two they kept to the level road. Presently this road led through a romantic pine wood. On the right the ground, thickly-strewn with mos3-grown rocks, stretched up steeply towards the mountains above. On the left- of the road the descent was steep to the l-irer below. On the opposite side of the river the rocks rose up precipitously, frequent waterfalls gushed down them, and high up they now and then saw a glacier winding down like a huge blue-green snake. About half-way through this wood the guide turned off to the right, and, followed by Kenyon and Marshall, began to mount a steep narrow path. It was gradually growing light. All at once on the other side of the valley a bright gleam appeared. This quickly spread and intensified, rays flashed out, and then wonderful snow mountains showed themselves more clearly, and the 'sun rose in a flood of golden glory—each glittering white peak in turn was gilded with his beams. The climbers paused for a few minutes to watch the splendour of the rising sun ; but they did not dare to wait long—they had a Jong journey before them, and they knew that these glittering sunbeams would soon kindle into warmth, and make the snow over which they had to go soft and dangerous. They kept on up the steep path. After a time the'ground became more level, but it was' thickly strewn with rocks and

stones. ■ It was nearly eight o’clock, anti they reached a level plateau. ‘ Are not. we going to have something to eat soon ?’ sang out Tom Kenyon ; ‘lam getting famished.’ ‘ Why, I thought you were not hungry,’ said Marshall. ‘Did you? well, you wait and see,’ was all Kenyon answered, - Jules called a halt. He took a large leather wallet off his back, and brought out of it bread, butter, cheese, cold beef, and a bottle of wine. ‘ Hullo, that’s the style,’ Tom Kenyon said. They all three did full justice to the meal, and, by the time they had finished, the sun was well up above the lofty peaks which surrounded them. At half.past eight o’clock they made another start; rocks and stones were gradually displacing the grass, and soon the path led over the solid rock itself; at times this was strewn with heaps of small stones which slipped down with every step and made rapid progress impossible; sometimes more ground was lost than gained, for a whole mass of stones would slide Sown bodily with the person who happened to be on it. The smaller stones were succeeded by larger oues which rocked unpleasantly when stepped on and obliged our adventurers to walk with great care. There was no longer any sign of the village from which they started, or of the valley in which it lay, but the great glacier that overhung it was more plainly seen than it had been from the valley, and this lacier loomed like a vast green aorpeut in

the morning light that was now becoming cloudy. They turned a shoulder of the rocks which they wore clambering, and they saw through the rising mist the dim outline of the huge Rinderhorn ; the wild scene had become extremely desolate. The Hotel,, des Voyageurs, perched high up on the farther side of the valley, was the only sign of life or habitation. Now and again a patch of snow told them that they were leaving the snowline beneath them. After a time they reached the foot of a precipitous mass of rocks; the jagged, cruellooking rocks towered up pitilessly above them.

Jules Lessore stopped his regular, ma-chine-like strides. • Well, what’s up ?’ said Tom Kenyon, ‘ are you not going any further ?’ * Yes ; but we must put on the rope before we go up here,’ said the guide, cheerfully, ‘ Oh, you are going up here, at e you said Marshall. 1 Well, it,does look rather steep.’ Jules quickly roped Kenyon, then Marshall, and then himself, leaving about fifteen feet of rope between each of them. They began to climb; Jules went first, then Marshall, and then Kenyon. All went well at fii'3t, but the rocks rapidly became steeper, and Kenyon began to find the climb more arduous than he had bargained for. Presently he cried : ‘ Give me a pull, Jules, I can’t get up any higher.’ Jules and Marshall, who had scrambled up somehow, pulled at the rope and dragged up Kenyon dangling. His hat came off, he clutched wildly at it, and caught it just in time, cutting his hands against the sharp rock in the effort. "They climbed a little way higher up, and Kenyon stepped upon a piece of rock that jutted out and seemed to oiler a safe support, but Jules and Marshall had also stepped upon it and loosened it, and under Kenyon’s full weight it suddenly gave way, and he slipped down with a jerk. If he had not broken the force of the shock by clinging desperately with his hands to the rocks he must have pulled down the two men above him. The dislodged bit of rock rolled rapidly down, then it began to leap, gathering velocity as it went, finally it took one mad, flying bound, pitched with a crash on the level rocks below, and was dashed into a thousand fragments. « Well, I am glad I was hot that piece of rock,’ said Kenyon grimly, as lie stood a little breathless on safer ground. They next came to a plateau forming the highest shoulder of the'mountain, and they had to cross a glacier. As they stepped upon this the sun broke through the clouds, and as they got farther on to the glacier, a deliciously cool and invigorating wind came blowing over the glittering white ice hillocks, an-d gently refreshed our travellers. Frequently they had. to jump across the yawning crevasses, which glowed blue in their depths. They had reached the other side of the glacier and they stopped for a few minutes. Before them stretched a snowfield of considerable extent. Jules put on his snow-glasses and started cautiously, he carefully ’thrust his alpenstock into the snow in front of him before he ventured to make a fresh step. Marshall and Kenyon followed in Julea's footsteps. A quantity of fresh snow had fallen in the night and they sank nearly up to their knees at every step. The sun made the white surface wonderfully dazzling, and the glare greatly-tired their eyes and added to the difficulties of the walking. Sometimes Kenyon or Marshall sank iii nearly up to the waist and remained helplessly imbedded until pulled out by Jules. The snow-field stretched on for rather more than a mile, and at last they came to the foot of the highest peak of the mountain. It rose up fiercely into the sky. The rocks forming this peak were partially covered with snow, and they looked terribly grim and forbidding. But now that the goal was in view they pressed on eagerly. It was a severe scramble ; the snow had made the rocks slippery, and it was necessary in places to clamber like cats, but eventually they reached , the top, and sat down upon the sharp jagged point-. Every side of them-" the rocks shelved down precipitously for thousands of feet. The sun had become overcast, clouds were gathering, it was bitterly cold, and soon it began to snow. There was a sudden and awful roar, like the sound of thunder, then a deep, terrifying vibration. 4 What on earth is that i cried Kenyon. ‘ I expect it is an avalanche on the Riuderborn,' said the guide.' There was a dead silence ; then another terrific roar, announcing that the avalanche was going further on its way down the mountain. After a short- rest on the top of the peak , they began to descend.. Kenyon went first-, then Marshall, and Jules last. They found the way down more easily than the way up had been. The keen air and the rest on the summit had thoroughly braced them up. They reached the snow field again without much difficulty. Jules once more led the way in order to make sure that all was safe; they trod in their old footsteps, and in this way were able to walk more quickly, than they had done as they came. They had got half-way across the snow, and were congratulating themselves that they would sooii be over it, when suddenly, without the slightest warning, Jules and Kenyon felt a sharp jerk on the rope. Marshall had sunk into the snow ; only his head and arms were visible. * Hullo !' cried Jules, cheerfully, ‘ wbab is the matter now ?’ ‘ Quick ! quick !’ Marshall called : ‘ pull me up or I shall be through. My feet and legs are dangling in the air, and I can feel I am rapidly sinking. Jules pulled hard upon the rope and went closer to Marshall. Kenyon followed on behind to give play to the rope ; he and the guide drew nearer to the dangerous spot. • Will the snow hold,’ Kenyon thought, ‘ until Marshall is safely out and I have passed bv the hole V Kenyon seemed to feel the snow giving way beneath him, and gradually sinking

in. ' . , Marshall grew pale ; lus iron nerve began to fail him as he thought of his dear ones in England ; he had promised his wife that he would do nothing hazardous, and this promise came suddenly into his mind. The danger was imminent; life and death were struggling in the balance ; to Kenyon’s surprise Jules stood still—but only for an instant—then with a mighty effort he pulled at the rope and drew Marshall on to firmer foothold; the greatest danger was to come, for Kenyon had still to pass. : ~ , • - T i . He made a cautious step, aided by Jules s directions ; he saw a yawning black hole where Marshall had sunk into what had seemed substantial snow Could he cross it ? it seemed almost impossible, for the snow'appeared to be giving way rapidly. The footing of Marshall and | Jules was anything but secure, and if the snow gave way altogether before Kenyon ! was past the hole they must all go down I together. 1 Kenyon had plenty of pluck, but this i was his first year among the Alps, and lie ' almost began to wish ho had not come; to

die on the top ot a mountain in pursuit pleasure seemed to him such an ur.satisfacfactory way of going out of life. Three steps more and he would be safe. An irresistible impulse made him pause and look down • the hole seemed to be of unfathomable depth. At this instant he- felt the snow give under his feet. He seemed to be falling as he sprang and plunged forward —he turned giddy—something was dragging him down ; but it was Jules who pulled vigorously at the rope, and landed him on the firm snow just as the soft mass gave way precipitately, and fell hundreds of feet on to the rocks below. Kenyon was dazed fora minute or two,but then he joined his companions as they stood on the edge of the abyss disclosed by the mass that had fallen ; they looked down breathless and awestruck. If J ules had been one second later in pulling the rope they would all have been dashed to pieces on the sharp jagged rocks below. They walked safely over the rest of the snow-field; there was some dangerous scrambling down the rocks and other loose stones, but at last they reached the region of turf, and trotted down the steep mountain slopes with the aid of their alpenstocks. They came in sight of the valley leading to the village from which they had started. As they reached their hotel utterly exhausted the clock struck five. They had been walking and climbing for the best part of thirteen hours.