the complete writings-2-第12节

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he　boat；　he　leaned　on　it　in　a　series　of　the　most　graceful　and　daring　attitudes　that　I　ever　saw　the　human　form　assume。　　Our　Oxford　student　knew　the　variety；　and　guessed　rightly　that　he　was　an　army　man。　　He　had　his　face　burned　at　Malta。　Had　he　been　over　the　Gemmi？　　Or　up　this　or　that　mountain？　asked　another　English　officer。　　〃No；　I　have　not。〃　　And　it　turned　out　that　he　had　n't　been　anywhere；　and　did　n't　seem　likely　to　do　anything　but　show　himself　at　the　frequented　valley　places。　　And　yet　I　never　saw　one　whose　gallant　bearing　I　so　much　admired。　　We　saw　him　afterward　at　Interlaken；　enduring　all　the　hardships　of　that　fashionable　place。　There　was　also　there　another　of　the　same　country；　got　up　for　the　most　dangerous　Alpine　climbing；　conspicuous　in　red　woolen　stockings　that　came　above　his　knees。　　I　could　not　learn　that　he　ever　went　up　anything　higher　than　the　top　of　a　diligence。




THE　DILIGENCE　TO　CHAMOUNY

The　greatest　diligence　we　have　seen；　one　of　the　few　of　the　old…fashioned　sort；　is　the　one　from　Geneva　to　Chamouny。　　It　leaves　early　in　the　morning；　and　there　is　always　a　crowd　about　it　to　see　the　mount　and　start。　　The　great　ark　stands　before　the　diligence…office；　and；　for　half　an　hour　before　the　hour　of　starting；　the　porters　are　busy　stowing　away　the　baggage；　and　getting　the　passengers　on　board。　On　top；　in　the　banquette；　are　seats　for　eight；　besides　the　postilion　and　guard；　in　the　coup6；　under　the　postilion's　seat　and　looking　upon　the　horses；　seats　for　three；　in　the　interior；　for　three；　and　on　top；　behind；　for　six　or　eight。　　The　baggage　is　stowed　in　the　capacious　bowels　of　the　vehicle。　　At　seven；　the　six　horses　are　brought　out　and　hitched　on；　three　abreast。　We　climb　up　a　ladder　to　the　banquette：　there　is　an　irascible　Frenchman；　who　gets　into　the　wrong　seat；　and　before　he　gets　right　there　is　a　terrible　war　of　words　between　him　and　the　guard　and　the　porters　and　the　hostlers；　everybody　joining　in　with　great　vivacity；　in　front　of　us　are　three　quiet　Americans；　and　a　slim　Frenchman　with　a　tall　hat　and　one　eye…glass。　　The　postilion　gets　up　to　his　place。　　Crack；　crack；　crack；　goes　the　whip；　and；　amid　〃sensation〃　from　the　crowd；　we　are　off　at　a　rattling　pace；　the　whip　cracking　all　the　time　like　Chinese　fireworks。　　The　great　passion　of　the　drivers　is　noise；　and　they　keep　the　whip　going　all　day。　　No　sooner　does　a　fresh　one　mount　the　box　than　he　gives　a　half…dozen　preliminary　snaps；　to　which　the　horses　pay　no　heed；　as　they　know　it　is　only　for　the　driver's　amusement。　　We　go　at　a　good　gait；　changing　horses　every　six　miles；　till　we　reach　the　Baths　of　St。　Gervais；　where　we　dine；　from　near　which　we　get　our　first　glimpse　of　Mont　Blanc　through　clouds；a　section　of　a　dazzlingly　white　glacier；　a　very　exciting　thing　to　the　imagination。　　Thence　we　go　on　in　small　carriages；　over　a　still　excellent　but　more　hilly　road；　and　begin　to　enter　the　real　mountain　wonders；　until；　at　length；　real　glaciers　pouring　down　out　of　the　clouds　nearly　to　the　road　meet　us；　and　we　enter　the　narrow　Valley　of　Chamouny；　through　which　we　drive　to　the　village　in　a　rain。

Everybody　goes　to　Chamouny；　and　up　the　Flegere；　and　to　Montanvert；　and　over　the　Mer　de　Glace；　and　nearly　everybody　down　the　Mauvais　Pas　to　the　Chapeau；　and　so　back　to　the　village。　　It　is　all　easy　to　do；　and　yet　we　saw　some　French　people　at　the　Chapeau　who　seemed　to　think　they　had　accomplished　the　most　hazardous　thing　in　the　world　in　coming　down　the　rocks　of　the　Mauvais　Pas。　　There　is；　as　might　be　expected；　a　great　deal　of　humbug　about　the　difficulty　of　getting　about　in　the　Alps；　and　the　necessity　of　guides。　　Most　of　the　dangers　vanish　on　near　approach。　　The　Mer　de　Glace　is　inferior　to　many　other　glaciers；　and　is　not　nearly　so　fine　as　the　Glacier　des　Bossons：　but　it　has　a　reputation；　and　is　easy　of　access；　so　people　are　content　to　walk　over　the　dirty　ice。　　One　sees　it　to　better　effect　from　below；　or　he　must　ascend　it　to　the　Jardin　to　know　that　it　has　deep　crevasses；　and　is　as　treacherous　as　it　is　grand。　　And　yet　no　one　will　be　disappointed　at　the　view　from　Montanvert；　of　the　upper　glacier；　and　the　needles　of　rock　and　snow　which　rise　beyond。

We　met　at　the　Chapeau　two　jolly　young　fellows　from　Charleston；　S。　C。　who　had　been　in　the　war；　on　the　wrong　side。　　They　knew　no　language　but　American；　and　were　unable　to　order　a　cutlet　and　an　omelet　for　breakfast。　　They　said　they　believed　they　were　going　over　the　Tete　Noire。　　They　supposed　they　had　four　mules　waiting　for　them　somewhere；　and　a　guide；　but　they　couldn't　understand　a　word　he　said；　and　he　couldn't　understand　them。　　The　day　before；　they　had　nearly　perished　of　thirst；　because　they　could　n't　make　their　guide　comprehend　that　they　wanted　water。　　One　of　them　had　slung　over　his　shoulder　an　Alpine　horn；　which　he　blew　occasionally；　and　seemed　much　to　enjoy。　　All　this　while　we　sit　on　a　rock　at　the　foot　of　the　Mauvais　Pas；　looking　out　upon　the　green　glacier；　which　here　piles　itself　up　finely；　and　above　to　the　Aiguilles　de　Charmoz　and　the　innumerable　ice…pinnacles　that　run　up　to　the　clouds；　while　our　muleteer　is　getting　his　breakfast。　This　is　his　third　breakfast　this　morning。

The　day　after　we　reached　Chamouny；　Monseigneur　the　bishop　arrived　there　on　one　of　his　rare　pilgrimages　into　these　wild　valleys。　　Nearly　all　the　way　down　from　Geneva；　we　had　seen　signs　of　his　coming；　in　preparations　as　for　the　celebration　of　a　great　victory。　　I　did　not　know　at　first　but　the　Atlantic　cable　had　been　laid；　or　rather　that　the　decorations　were　on　account　of　the　news　of　it　reaching　this　region。　　It　was　a　holiday　for　all　classes；　and　everybody　lent　a　hand　to　the　preparations。　　First；　the　little　church　where　the　confirmations　were　to　take　place　was　trimmed　within　and　without；　and　an　arch　of　green　spanned　the　gateway。　　At　Les　Pres；　the　women　were　sweeping　the　road；　and　the　men　were　setting　small　evergreen…trees　on　each　side。　　The　peasants　were　in　their　best　clothes；　and　in　front　of　their　wretched　hovels　were　tables　set　out　with　flowers。　　So　cheerful　and　eager　were　they　about　the　bishop；　that　they　forgot　to　beg　as　we　passed：　the　whole　valley　was　in　a　fever　of　expectation。　　At　one　hamlet　on　the　mulepath　over　the　Tete　Noire；　where　the　bishop　was　that　day　expected；　and　the　women　were　sweeping　away　all　dust　and　litter　from　the　road；　I　removed　my　hat；　and　gravely　thanked　them　for　their　thoughtful　preparation　for　our　coming。　　But　they　only　stared　a　little；　as　if　we　were　not　worthy　to　be　even　forerunners　of　Monseigneur。

I　do　not　care　to　write　here　how　serious　a　drawback　to　the　pleasures　of　this　region　are　its　inhabitants。　　You　get　the　impression　that　half　of　them　are　beggars。　　The　other　half　are　watching　for　a　chance　to　prey　upon　you　in　other　ways。　　I　heard　of　a　woman　in　the　Zermatt　Valley　who　refused　pay　for　a　glass　of　milk；　but　I　did　not　have　time　to　verify　the　report。　　Besides　the　beggars；　who　may　or　may　not　be　horrid…looking　creatures；　there　are　the　grinning　Cretins；　the　old　women　with　skins　of　parchment　and　the　goitre；　and　even　young　children　with　the　loathsome　appendage；　the　most　wretched　and　filthy　hovels；　and　the　dirtiest；　ugliest　people　in　them。　　The　poor　women　are　the　beasts　of　burden。　　They　often　lead；　mowing　in　the　hayfield；　they　carry　heavy　baskets　on　their　backs；　they　balance　on　their　heads　and　carry　large　washtubs　full　of　water。　　The　more　appropriate　load　of　one　was　a　cradle　with　a　baby　in　it；　which　seemed　not　at　all　to　fear　falling。　　When　one　sees　how　the　women　are　treated；　he　does　not　wonder　that　there　are　so　many　deformed；　hideous　children。　　I　think　the　pretty　girl　has　yet　to　be　born　in　Switzerland。

This　is　not　much　about　the　Alps？　　Ah；　well；　the　Alps　are　there。　　Go　read　your　guide…book；　and　find　out　what　your　emotions　are。　　As　I　said；　everybody　goes　to　Chamouny。　　Is　it　not　enough　to　sit　at　your　window；　and　watch　the　clouds　when　they　lift　from　the　Mont　Blanc　range；　disclosing　splendor　after　splendor；　from　the　Aiguille　de　Goute　to　the　Aiguille　Verte；white　needles　which　pierce　the　air　for　twelve　thousand　feet；　until；　jubilate！　　the　round　summit　of　the　monarch　himself　is　visible；　and　the　vast　expanse　of　white　snow…fields；　the　whiteness　of　which　is　rather　of　heaven　than　of　earth；　dazzles　the　eyes；　even　at　so　great　a　distance？　　Everybody　who　is　patient　and　waits　in　the　cold　and　inhospitable…looking　valley　of　the　Chamouny　long　enough；　sees　Mont　Blanc；　but　every　one　does　not　see　a　sunset　of　the　royal　order。　　The　clouds　breaking　up　and　clearing；　after　days　of　bad　weather；　showed　us　height　after　height；　and　peak　after　peak；　now　wreathing　the　summits；　now　settling　below　or　hanging　in　patches　on　the　sides；　and　again　soaring　above；　until　we　had　the　whole　range　lying；　far　and　brilliant；　in　the　evening　light。　　The　clouds　took　on　gorgeous　colors；　at　length；　and　soon　the　snow　caught　the　hue；　and　whole　fields　were　rosy　pink；　while　uplifted　peaks　glowed　red；　as　with　internal　fire。　　Only　Mont　Blanc；　afar　off；　remained　purely　white；　in　a　kind　of　regal　inaccessibility。　　And；　afterward；　one　star　came　out　over　it；　and　a　bright　light　shone　from　the　hut　on　the　Grand　Mulets；　a　rock　in　the　waste　of　snow；　where　a　Frenchman　was　passing　the　night　on

his　way　to　the　summit。

Shall　I　describe　the　passage　of　the　Tete　Noire？　　My　friend；　it　is　twenty…four　miles；　a　road　somewhat　hilly；　with　splendid　views　of　Mont　B