mighty monuments, rolling them gradually seaward

Sowing the seeds of continents to be;

so that the people of an older earth may see mould spread and corn wave over the hidden rocks which at this moment bear the weight of the Jungfrau.'

1 Eight years ago I was evidently a sun-worshipper; nor have I yet lost the conviction of his ability to do all here ascribed to him.J.T., 1871.

XVIII.

DEATH OF BENNEN ON THE HAUT DE CRY.

BY PHILIP C. GOSSETT.

[On a March morning in 1864 I was returning to town from Chislehurst, when my attention was directed to an account of an Alpine disaster published in that day's 'Times.' No names were mentioned, and I commented rather severely on the rashness of trusting to mountainsnow so early in the year. On the following day I learned that my brave Bennen was one of the victims. Mr. P. C. Gossett wrote for the 'Alpine Journal' a 'Narrative of the Accident,' which, through the obliging kindness of the author, I am enabled to publish here. Mr. Gossett was accompanied by his friend M. Boissonnet on the fatal day.]

ON February 28, 1864, we left Sion with Bennen to mount the Haut de Cry. We started at 2.15 a.m. in a light carriage that brought us to the village of Ardon, distant six miles. We there met three men that were to accompany us as local guides and porters-Jean Joseph Nance, Frederic Rebot, who

acted as my personal guide, and Auguste Bevard. We at once began to ascend on the right bank of the Lyzerne. The night was splendid, the sky cloudless, and the moon shining brightly. For about half an hour we went up through the vineyards by a rather steep path, and then entered the valley of the Lyzerne, about 700 feet above the torrent. We here found a remarkably good path, gradually rising and leading towards the Col de Chéville. Having followed this path for about three hours, we struck off to the left, and began zigzagging up the mountain-side through a pine forest. We had passed what may be called the snowline in winter a little above 2,000 feet. We had not ascended for more than a quarter of an hour in this pine forest before the snow got very deep and very soft. We had to change leader every five or six minutes, and even thus our progress was remarkably slow. We saw clearly that, should the snow be as soft above the fir region, we should have to give up the ascent. At 7 A.M. we reached a chalet, and stopped for about twenty minutes to rest and look at the sunrise on the Diablerets. On observing an aneroid, which we had brought with us, we found that we were at the height of about 7,000 feet: the temperature was -1° C.

The Haut de Cry has four arêtes, the first running towards the W., the second SE., the third E., and

the fourth NE. We were between the two lastnamed arêtes. Our plan was to go up between them to the foot of the peak, and mount it by the arête running NE. As we had expected, the snow was in much better state when once we were above the woods. For some time we advanced pretty rapidly. The peak was glistening before us, and the idea of success put us in high spirits. Our good fortune did not last long; we soon came to snow frozen on the surface, and capable of bearing for a few steps and then giving way. But this was nothing compared to the trouble of pulling up through the pine wood, so instead of making us grumble it only excited our hilarity. Bennen was in a particularly good humour, and laughed aloud at our combined efforts to get out of the holes we every now and then made in the snow. Judging from appearances, the snow-field over which we were walking covered a gradually rising Alp. We made a second observation with our aneroid, and found, rather to our astonishment and dismay, that we had only risen 1,000 feet in the last three hours. It was 10 o'clock: we were at the height of about 8,000 feet; temperature = 1.5 C. During the last half-hour we had found a little hard snow, so we had all hope of success. Thinking we might advance better on the arête, we took to it, and rose along it for some time. It soon became cut up by rocks, so we took to the snow again. It turned out

; so

to be here hard frozen, so that we reached the real foot of the peak without the slightest difficulty. It was steeper than I had expected it would be, judging from the valley of the Rhone. Bennen looked at it with decided pleasure; having completed his survey, he proposed to take the eastern arête, as in doing so we should gain at least two hours. Rebot had been over this last-named arête in summer, and was of Bennen's opinion. Two or three of the party did not like the idea much, so there was a discussion on the probable advantages and disadvantages of the NE. and E. arêtes. We were losing time Bennen cut matters short by saying: 'Ich will der Erste über die arête!' Thus saying, he made for the E. arête; it looked very narrow, and, what was worse, it was considerably cut up by high rocks, the intervals between the teeth of the arête being filled up with snow. To gain this arête, we had to go up a steep snow-field, about 800 feet high, as well as I remember. It was about 150 feet broad at the top, and 400 or 500 at the bottom. It was a sort of couloir on a large scale. During the ascent we sank about one foot deep at every step. Bennen did not seem to like the look of the snow very much. He asked the local guides whether avalanches ever came down this couloir, to which they answered that our position was perfectly safe. We had mounted on the northern side of the couloir, and having arrived at