Page:My Climbs in the Alps and Caucasus (1908).djvu/113

Rh grunts and groans as he squeezed himself through the narrow passage, and a final volley of those unreportable words in which the troubled masculine mind invariably seeks relief, acquainted us with the fact that the hole was a delusion, and that the mountain had been merely playing us a practical joke.

The only alternative was to get round the obstruction on the right. Burgener at once led us along a narrow ledge, which was more or less covered with the débris fallen from above. It was necessary to be extremely careful, as the cliff on our left was cased with a veneer of rotten stones, and it seemed as if the disturbance of any single one of them might bring the whole rickety mass down on our heads. On the right was a dizzy precipice of fifteen hundred feet or more, with the crevassed Weingarten glacier below. After a while we reached an arm of rock which blocked the ledge; climbing over, or rather round this, we found a secure nook where we sat down whilst Burgener unroped and went ahead to explore. He was soon hidden from our view by the crags, and, for a time, all the news we had of him was the ceaseless rattle of the stones he upset. At last we saw him reappear, but there was no life in his movements; his face was serious, and in response to our queries he said: "Herr Mommerie, it is quite impossible." During our enforced idleness we had had time to thoroughly