took it quite seriously, forgetting
that I was rebelling against so many miles of dead snow with never a
thing to do but plod and plod, and plod again.

And then we came to the top of the pass where rocks jutted out of the
snow, and a few minutes' climb let us look over into Italy, and down the
steep south side of Monte Rosa, under whose white clouds lay Macugnaga.
We sat upon the summit for an hour and ate once more, and argued as to
the beauty of things, and the wonder and foolishness of climbing, and I
own that I was very hard to satisfy. The snow-grind had entered into my
soul as it always does. It is duller than a walk through any flat
agricultural country before the corn begins to grow.

And yet below us was the other side of our pass, which certainly looked
more interesting. Right under our feet was a little snow _arete_ with
slopes like a high pitched roof. It was quite possible to be killed
there if one was foolish or reckless, and the prospect cheered me up. It
is at anyrate not dull to be on an _arete_ with a snow slope leading to
nothing beneath me. And I cannot help insisting on the fact that much
mountaineering is essentially dull. Often enough a long day may be
without more than one dramatic moment. There is really only five minutes
of interest on the Schwartzberg-Weissthor. We came to that in the
_arete_, for after following it for a few minutes we turned off it to
the left and came to the _bergschrund_, the big crevasse which separates
the highest snows or ice from the glacier. By now I was quite anxious
that the guides should find the _schrund_ difficult. I had been bored to
death and yearned for some little excitement. I even declared sulkily
(it is odd, but true, that one does often become reckless and sulky
under such circumstances) that I was ready to jump "any beastly
_bergschrund_." My offer was no doubt made with the comfortable
consciousness that the guides were not likely to let me do anything
quite idiotic. But there was no necessity for any such gymnastics. The
_schrund's_ lower lip was only six feet lower than the upper lip, and
the whole crevasse was barely three feet across, though doubtless deep
enough to swallow a thousand parties like ours. Somewhat to my
disappointment we got over quite easily, and struck down across the
glacier, passing one or two rather dangerous crevasses by crawling on
our stomachs. The only satisfaction I had was that both the guides and
O---- declared that the