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Notwithstanding the danger of crossing the Merde-Glace, so precious is every little green spot in this region of ice, that annually, in favorable seasons, cattle are driven over it to the slopes of the mountain on the other side, where a little pasture is found for about three months in the summer; and the occasion makes quite a holiday for the inhabitants of Chamouni, who all turn out to witness the perilous passage. One shepherd is left behind to tend the herds, where he remains alone, being visited once a month with supplies of food. "Knitting is his chief employ, and thus he passes his time of expatriation in making stockings, and contemplating the wonders of nature that surround him."

The ascent to Montanvert is by a winding path up the mountain, and along the verge of precipices, that seem frightful and dangerous, unpracticed as we yet were in these regions, particularly as the wonders around were continually diverting our attention; but the mules are sure-footed, and if left to themselves, seldom make a false step, while the guides are ever watchful, leading them by the bridle past the more dangerous places. The sides of this mountain are completely covered with wild rhododendrons, which were in full bloom, and contrasted beautifully with the black and rugged rocks out of which they seem to grow, with very little earth to support them. This excursion was laborious, and gave us a pretty good seasoning for the more fatiguing tour of Mont Blanc, on which we were to start the next morning; yet we experienced, very sensibly, the fact, that exertion in

the fine, clear, bracing air of these elevated mountain regions, is far less fatiguing than in the denser atmosphere of the plains below. Fatigued as we were on our return to Chamouni, after our day's toil, we found it impossible to remain in doors as long as a particle of daylight was left, and we wandered about the village to the different parts where the best views could be obtained, lingering, at spot after spot, for one more look, until all was lost in the darkness. Then with what anxiety we discussed the prospect of the weather for the morrow, and the probability that it would be such as to allow us to start on our projected five days' tour of Mont Blanc. Appearances were rather dubious; however, we made all our arrangements, and ordered the guides and mules for an early start, and retired, fully satisfied with our day's toil and pleasure.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Tour of Mont Blanc-Guides-Nant Bourant-Dangerous Pass of Col Bonhomme-Chapiu-Col de la Seigne-Fearful Snow Storm— Val d'Aoste-Allee Blanche-Cormayeur-Hospice of St. Bernard-Monks-Dogs-The Morgue.

CHAM

HAMOUNI is a place of great bustle and excitement during the season of summer travel; parties are continually arriving and departing; and when a party is about making a longer excursion than usual into the more difficult and dangerous passes of the mountains, it creates quite a ferment in the place; people will be observed, gathered together, discussing the probabilities of the weather, and other matters affecting the proposed journey; and no matter how early in the morning the start is to be made, a crowd will be sure to attend the adventurous party, apparently taking the greatest interest in seeing them fairly off; making a thousand conjectures, and expressing a thousand good wishes for the issue of the undertaking. This interest is not to be wondered at, for although accidents do not often happen, yet they are always to be feared, so uncertain is the weather in the mountains, being continually liable to tourmentes, brouillards and avalanches, which, if they should overtake the traveler, in many of the places through which he must pass, would prove his certain, unavoidable destruction. We indeed felt as if we were embarking on quite a perilous enterprise, when we

saw the crowds collected about us, as we mounted our mules for the tour of Mont Blanc; for it is not, as might be supposed, by those unacquainted with the route, a pleasant tour through smiling valleys around the base of Mont Blanc; so far from this is the fact, that it leads the traveler over heights that are covered with perpetual snows, such as the Cols Bonhomme and de la Seigne, and the pass of the great St. Bernard, nearly ten thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is an undertaking of great fatigue, and frequently of danger.

On Wednesday morning, July 16th, at six A. M., we started on this ever memorable tour, mounted on mules, and attended by two experienced guides, PIERRE CARRIER and SALOMON COUTET, who proved to be capable, efficient and faithful men. We continued three hours without a halt, when we arrived at the "Pavilion," (a little shanty,) on the top of Col Vosa, where we stopped for rest and refreshment. Soon after leaving here, it began to rain very hard, notwithstanding which, we pushed on to Nant Bourant, where we arrived about three P. M., and stopped for the night. The accommodations were very poor, having been erected and occupied solely as a shelter for tourists, and being entirely uninhabited, and uninhabitable, except for a few months in summer. Although it rained slightly in the morning, it would not do to remain where we were, and we pushed on, starting at five A. M. The rain soon increased to torrents, and one of our mules becoming lame, we were obliged to send it back, and proceed-one of

PASSAGE OF COL BONHOMME.

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us walking by turns. After proceeding in this way for about three hours, the traveling was so dreadful, and we had become so saturated, that we stopped at a chalet, which is the rudest kind of a hut, in the mountains, occupied for a short time, in the summer, by cow-herds, but utterly untenantable in winter. Men, women, children, cows and goats are here huddled together under the same roof, and the effluvia, it may be supposed, is of the most pungent kind. Here, however, we remained two or three hours, until we got pretty well dried by a fire of brush, the only kind of wood that these poor people can obtain, and they have very little of that. As it was impossible to remain here all night, we pushed on, taking with us the old man of the mountain," (i. e. the man occupying the hut) with his pickax, to clear away the snow, and assist us over the difficult passes of the Col Bonhomme, which is considered to be the most dangerous part of the Alps that can be traversed by

man.

Soon after leaving the chalet, in ascending a very steep and rugged place of almost perpendicular rock, my mule fell with me, and rolled over on his side; but, providentially, I was able to get from under him, although I could not extricate myself until he had struggled twice to get up, and fallen again each time. It was almost miraculous that I did not get my legs broken. However, we got all right again, and proceeded, under the pitiless pelting of the storm, to ascend Col Bonhomme. When we were at the summit, a terrible brouillard of snow, hail and sleet came up, which filled the valley on the other side so