Above the Snow Line: Mountaineering Sketches Between 1870 and 1880

Clinton Dent

C.В T. Dent

Above the Snow Line: Mountaineering Sketches Between 1870 and 1880

PREFACE

Some of the following sketches do not now appear for the first time; but such as have been before published in other form have been entirely re-written, and, in great measure, recast.

To the writer the work has afforded an occasional distraction from more serious professional work, and he cannot wish better than that it should serve the same purpose to the reader.

Cortina di Ampezzo:

September 1884.

CHAPTER I.

AN EXPEDITION IN THE OLDEN STYLE

Buried records —Litera scripta manet– The survival of the unfit – A literary octopus – Sybaritic mountaineering – On mountain “form” – Lessons to be learned in the Alps – The growth and spread of the climbing craze – Variations of the art – A tropical day in the valley – A deserted hostelry – The hotel staff appears in several characters – Ascent of the Balfrinhorn – Our baggage train and transport department – A well-ventilated shelter – On sleeping out: its advantages on the present occasion – The Mischabelhörner family group – A plea for Saas and the Fée plateau – We attack the Südlenzspitz – The art of detecting hidden crevasses – Plans for the future – Sentiment on a summit – The feast is spread – The Alphubeljoch – We meet our warmest welcome at an inn.

There exists a class of generously-minded folk who display a desire to improve their fellow-creatures and a love for their species, by referring pointedly to others for the purpose of mentioning that the objects of their remarks have never been guilty of certain enormities: a critical process, which is about equivalent to tarring an individual, but, from humanitarian considerations, omitting to feather him also. The ordeal, as applied to others, is unwarrantable; but there is a certain odd pleasure in subjecting oneself to it. Now, it is but a paraphrase to say that the more we go about, the more, in all probability, shall we be strengthened in the conviction that the paradise of fools must have a large acreage. The average Briton has a constantly present dread that he is likely to do something to justify his admission into that department of Elysium. The thought that he has so qualified, will wake him up if it crosses his mind even in a dream, or make his blood run cold – whatever that may mean – in his active state. Thus it falls out that he is for ever, as it were, conning over the pass-book of his actions, and marvelling how few entries he can find on the credit side, as he does so. It is asserted as a fact (and it were hard to gainsay the sentiment), that Litera scripta manet. No doubt; but how much more obtrusively true is it that printed matter is as indestructible as the Hydra? It has occurred sometimes to the writer, on very, very sleepless nights, to take down from a shelf, to slap the cover in order to get rid of a considerable amount of dust, and to peruse, in a volume well-known to all members of the Alpine Club, accounts written years before, of early mountain expeditions. To trace in some such way, at any rate to search for, indications of a fancied development of mind has a curious fascination for the solitary man. Effusions which an author would jealously hide away from the eyes of his friends, have a strangely absorbing interest to the man who reflects that he himself was their perpetrator.

The survival of the unfit

We most of us, whatever principles we assert on the matter, keep stowed away, in some corner or another, the overflow of a fancied talent. The form varies: it may, perhaps, be a five act tragedy, possibly a psychological disquisition, or a sensational novel in three volumes of MS. It is a satisfaction to turn such treasures out from time to time when no eyes are upon us, even if it be only to thank Heaven devoutly that they have always lain unknown and uncriticised. “Il n’y a rien qui rafraichisse le sang comme d’avoir su éviter de faire une sottise.” O