pluck had been proved in many a weary forced march and well stricken battle-field. Our plans were soon arranged, and having fixed upon the pass of the Strahleck as the scene of our exploit, we started off one fine summer's day last year from Interlaken, and crossing the Wengern Alp in good style as a sort of preparatory canter, arrived in Grindelwald in time to make preparations for the business of the morrow.

The Strahleck Pass, as some of my readers may be aware, lies between Grindelwald and the Grimsel Hospice. It cannot, perhaps, rank, in point of danger or fatigue, with such expeditions as the ascent of the Wetterhorn, the pass of the Col du Geant, or that of the Weisse Thor, from Zermatt, but still was a formidable undertaking to unpractised pedestrians such as we were, and enjoyed sufficient reputation as a perilous pass to satisfy any one of moderate capacity. Our choice, however, was principally guided by its vicinity to our head-quarters, and the fact that the whole course lies embosomed in the very heart of those vast Alpine solitudes and trackless ice-fields that stretch away for nearly a hundred miles, nine, ten, and twelve thousand feet above the sea level, and is flanked by those giant peaks, the Shreckhorn and Finster Aar-horn, whose virgin summits have never yet been sullied by the foot of man, and whose sterile cliffs can only be seen to advantage by one standing on the icy seas from which they spring towards heaven. Oh, reader, you who possess stout limbs, steady head, and a mind capable of appreciating the sublime, turn a deaf ear to laziness and pseudo-philanthropy, and whenever an opportunity of such a walk presents itself, seize it. I warrant you it will be a day " Albá creta Notandus"—a day whose slightest incidents will remain green in your memory when many a more important event in life's garden lies sere and withered.

As it happened, a party had just arrived over the Pass from the Grimsel side a circumstance which had the double advantage of furnishing us with guides who were acquainted with the route, and of affording us an opportunity of hearing a little of the work that was cut out for us. One of them, a stout young barrister, who was clearing his brain during the long vacation from the fogs of "Chitty" and "Fearne," seemed "as fresh as paint;" but his companion, a slight fair lad, of about seventeen years of age, was groggy all over," and it was evident that walking-powder had to be administered to bring him along the last part of the road. Nevertheless he was full of pluck, extended a pipeshank of a leg, and called upon us to admire the iron texture of its muscles, and warned us, in a patronising way, that if we were unused to walking we had better not attempt the Strahleck, which was fourteen hours of hard work. He also informed us that it was his intention to walk on to Interlaken that same night (twelve miles of hilly, macadamised road)-a foolish feat which he actually attempted, although, as might be expected, he broke down before he had proceeded a mile, and was then and there put to bed and taken care of.

It may enable those who have never been at Grindelwald to follow our track more easily, if I attempt a slight topographical description of the Valley, as seen from the terrace of the " Aigle." You are standing low down in an irregular oval bowl, of which the margins lying to the east and west are the lowest, and the southern the highest. Behind you to the north, through meadows and pine forests, winds

the path to the Faul-horn; to your left is the mule road over the Grand Scheideck, which, passing by the Baths of Rosenlauï, and the Falls of the Reichenbach, drops down eventually into Meyringen. On the right, across a shoulder of the Lauberhorn, strings of horses, pedestrians, and chaises à porteurs are for ever winding over the Wengern Alp to Lauterbrunnen; and before you, to the south, rise precipitously the great features of the Valley, the three huge pyramids of rock, whose dizzy precipices hang over your head to the height of nearly 10,000 feet. The Wetterhorn to the left, the Grand Eiger to the right, and between them and flanked by two great glaciers, which roll their icebergs into the very heart of the Valley, stands the Mettenberg, which, huge as it is, forms only the base of the lofty Shreckhorn, whose head cannot be seen from your present point of view. Our path, for the morrow, skirts the western bank of the Lower Glacier, being that which separates the Mettenberg from the Eiger, and it was towards the flat Eis-meer, which forms its summit and supplies its stream of ice, that our eyes were turned on this occasion in meteorological speculation as to the morrow.

Now, when at home or in any comparatively flat country, I pride myself upon being somewhat of a judge of the weather; and when yachting, can look "alow and aloft," to windward and leeward, and preserve as mysteriously sagacious an expression as any of my neighbours; but in Switzerland I invariably refrain from expressing any opinion, for I know well that if founded upon any ordinary rules, 'tis ten to one but that it will be falsified. There every valley has its separate code of signs, every wreath of cloud its meaning; portents are drawn from the particular sounds of rushing waters, and strong opinions hazarded on the frequency or infrequency of the fall of avalanches. No one but a "" native" can use these indications with success, and too often are their prognostications formed on the suggestions of selfinterest, rather than on those afforded them by the voice of Nature.

In

On this occasion it was quite a "toss up" whether we should go or not. The afternoon had turned out cloudy and drizzly, scarcely the base of the Glacier was visible, and yet the guides declared themselves ready to stake their professional reputation on the success of the expedition. At last we came to a compromise. On the morrow afternoon we would ascend as far as the Châlet of the Sässenberg (the highest inhabited dwelling in Europe), which was situated on the farther shore of the Eis-meer. There would we sleep, and if the guides proved false prophets, and the weather unfavourable on the next morning, we were to return to Grindelwald, and the contract should be void. this arrangement the guides readily acquiesced, and in a short time a mutual agreement between myself and Major S- of the one part, and Fritz von Almen and Ulrich Linder of the second part, was signed, sealed and delivered, and the guides entered into their functions with an importance worthy of the occasion. Boots were overhauled, and new rough nails inserted wherever the old ones had become flat and smooth; alpenstocks underwent a rigid examination, and their powers of endurance subjected to mighty tests; lastly, the important question of commissariat was entertained and the estimates allowed, which concluded the preliminaries, and allowed us to retire into privacy for the

VOL. III.

D

night, after delivering our boots into the care of my valet Simon, a stout Hibernian, who was to accompany the expedition, at his own urgent request, in the capacity of private pack-bearer to myself and the Major, and who now withdrew with our chaussure, not to polish, but to anoint them with an evil-savoured unguent of great virtue, the component parts of which he shrouded with the deepest mystery.

The next morning came, but our enemies the clouds were still in possession of the field. Nevertheless the guides were confident, and the inhabitants, without any visible cause, began to prophesy for us a jour magnifique. Towards mid-day a slight improvement certainly did take place, and the Glacier became clear for a good way up. A little later the improvement was still more marked, and then Fritz laden like a camel draws near, and announces that the hour of departure has arrived. We point out to our friends a tall solitary pine, that grows by the threadlike path, as far on our way as the cloud will enable us to see, promising them a parting cheer from thence, and we are off.

It takes about an hour of steep, but not difficult walking to bring us to the tree, during which time the sun has come out strong, and, in consequence, our coats have for some time hung over our arms. In so doing, our brilliant red flannel shirts stand out in bold relief against the dull background of rock, and mark our whereabouts plainly to the spectators below. We turn our faces towards them, and find to our astonishment that the whole population has turned out to witness our ascent, and that the terrace and road about the inn are thronged with gazers. Really we begin to feel ourselves people of importance. Now for a good shout, and then forward. We give it with a will, and "pause for a reply." Presently it comes surging upwards, faintly and hoarsely, as from the throats of many; then we wave our coats from the spikes of our alpenstocks in token of adieu, and press forward with high hope and spirits into Cloudland.

But now it is evident that we are approaching the limits of vegetation, the way no longer winds through the spongy tracts of moss, crocus, and dandelion, that the Swiss are pleased to call meadows, and our fresh hobnails grate on the hard slippery limestone that forms the bank of the Glacier. Clouds still envelope the higher mountain peaks, but in every other respect the weather is most propitious. Presently the path, which for some time has become very faint and hard to follow, ceases altogether in a plank over which we pass, and lo! we stand on the ice!

I wish my friends of the guide-compassionating school could have witnessed the demeanour of the two specimens of that injured class who accompanied us, when they found themselves on what I cannot help calling their native element; how, burdened though they were, they sprang from ridge to ridge, bouncing over horrid, but lovely blue chasms, and jöddled away at the top of their voices, in unrestrainable excitement and delight. The fact is that the Swiss guide exults in his dangerous vocation, and experiences as much pleasure as his employers. No nation has a purer love of nature, or a keener sense of the delights of overcoming material difficulties by the allied forces of intellect and muscle; and therefore it is that these hardy mountaineers make no secret

of their preference to accompany Englishmen, whose national character they have so often found to be calmness in the moment of danger, and a courageous endurance of fatigue unmatched by any of the nations who send an annual tribute of travellers to their country.

The transit across the Eis-meer is unattended with either difficulty or danger to those accustomed to glacier-walking. There are, to be sure, crevasses in plenty, but a very little acquaintance with them, and some caution, enables one to weather the most yawning chasms and, by a series of tacks, to move a-head with a rapidity in proportion to one's experience.

Fritz brings us a little out of our way to show us one of the lions of the place a splendid waterfall, whose stream, aggrandized by a host of tributaries, has assumed the proportion of a river, before it disappears in a glassy flood adown the blue jaws of a huge crevasse, never again to re-appear until it emerges, turbid and travel-stained, thousands of feet below, out of the icy cavern at the foot of the glacier, where it receives the name of the Lütschine.

While we are watching this grand scene, Ulrich has gained the opposite edge, and stands with a huge fragment of rock uplifted, like Polyphemus, to crush some Acis and Galatea below. As soon as he has caught our attention, he lets "the massy ruin fly," and with a crish! crash! splinter! dash! boom! boom! it hurtles among the icy pinnacles and caverns below, until at last nothing but a dull sub-glacial groan comes up de profundis, bringing before us vividly the terrible fate of poor M. Mouron, the pastor of Grindelwald, who accidentally was precipitated down just such an abyss in the year 1821.

Resuming the line of march, we move on towards the base of the mountain (the Viescherhorn) which, seen from below, forms the background to the glacier; and here a very picturesque incident occurred. Advancing towards us over the ice strode a burly form, attended by a flock of kids, who frisked and gambolled about him in the most sportive and loving way imaginable. Separated from his own species for months, except upon such rare occasions as the present, a bond of intimacy and affection had sprung up between the goatherd and his flock, which, possibly, was deeper and truer than many a more demonstrative friendship in the false world below.

As they drew near, we could hear his encouraging tones, couched in a a patois which seemed to owe much of its etymology to the goats his companions. Sometimes a couple of young bucks would fall astern for the purpose of an appeal to the duello, and unmindful of the dangerous nature of the battle-field, their sprouting horns would come clicking together with all the venom that their youthful strength allowed. But on such occasions the strife was short: a paternal voice would soon call the combatants to order, who would at once shake hands, more hædorum, and come bounding back to their place in the troop. At another time, when the way lay across any crevasse more than usually broad, it was a pretty sight to see the more timorous of the family trot up to their guide, and rubbing their noses against his rough hand, appeal to him for assistance in their difficulty. At such a time we could hear the cheery word of encouragement, as the goatherd would seize the applicant by the neck and back, and with a swing, pitch it clean and clever over the

rift. In short, there was in the whole scene something so patriarch and suggestive of Scriptural imagery, that the dullest heart could fail to revert to "that Good Shepherd who careth for the sheep, a whose sheep follow him, for they know his voice."

As the goatherd comes up with us, Fritz introduces him to us as o maître d'hotel for the night, he being the proprietor of the Châl of the Sässenberg, 'and further intimates that his service will be r quired on the morrow in the capacity of sumpter-mule for the firs part of the journey, the dangerous nature of which requires that b and Ulrich shall devote their whole unburdened strength and agility in our service. He also makes us acquainted with his name, which how ever I despair of communicating to the reader, the sound thereo somewhat resembling that which a person might make who was trying to say Michael with a fish-bone in his throat; and as to spelling it, the employment of all the vowels in our inefficient alphabet can alone convey a faint phonetic resemblance to the reality, thus

MICHAEIOUL.

Half-an-hour brought us to the châlet, from which issued to meet us a young Michaeioul, who resembled his parent so strongly in every respect, dress and all, that it was like looking at the father through the wrong end of a telescope. He received us with a hospitable grin, and led the way to the hut, which was snugly sheltered from all misadventure under a huge boulder, which in bygone ages had toppled down from the summit of the mountain behind.

The unpronounceable one was courteous withal, and through the interpretation of the guides we found that he proposed to vacate his own and the boy's bed in favour of myself and the Major. This poli tesse we refused on the instant of inspection. On the horrors of that cubiculum I decline to dilate. Suffice it to say, that had we not withdrawn most rapidly from its vicinity, a catastrophe might have occurred upon which I cannot dwell. No, my hardy Michaeioul, we will not deprive you of your bed. "Requiescas in pace," though I do not see how you can manage it. For us, we prefer to adopt the method of Miss "Margaret Daw," who, having disposed of her bed, was obliged to lie upon straw. We will seek a couch elsewhere; it is impossible to "go farther and fare worse."

In such situations however, one cannot afford to be particular; and when the choice lies between bad and none at all, the selection is easily made. Accordingly, having impounded a quantity of fresh hay, which by right was the property of the goats, we shook it out evenly over the floor of a little shed which acted as dairy, and which was constructed simply by piling up rough stones until they reached the top of the overhanging rock, the intervening space forming our dormitory. Here we determined to pass the night, though a person with a delicate nose might possibly have objected to the smell of the gases evolved from decomposing Swiss cheese (a bad kind of Gruyère), and have found fault with the contiguity of two pigs, whose stye was situated in unpleasant propinquity to our ears and noses.