254 SCRAMBLES AMONGST THE ALPS.

It was not necessary to admonish Croz to be quick. Hewas fully as alive to the risk as any of the others. He toldme afterwards that this place was the most dangerous hehad ever crossed, and that no consideration whatever wouldtempt him to cross it again. Manfully did he exert him-self to escape from the impending destruction. His head,bent down to his work, never turned to the right or to theleft. One, two, three, went his axe, and then he steppedon to the spot where he had been cutting. How painfullyinsecure should we have considered those steps at anyother time! But now we thought only of the rocks infront, and of the hideous seracs, lurching over above us,apparently in the act of falling.

We got to the rocks in safety, and if they had beendoubly as difficult as they were, we should still have beenwell content. We sat down and refreshed the inner man,keeping our eyes on the towering pinnacles of ice underwhich we had passed, but which now were almost beneathus. Without a preliminary warning sound, one of thelargest—as high as the Monument at London Bridge —fellupon the slope below. The stately mass heeled over as ifupon a hinge (holding together until it bent 30 degreesforwards); then it crushed out its base, and, rent into athousand fragments, plunged vertically down upon the slopethat we had crossed ! Every atom of our track that wasin its course was obliterated; all the new snow was sweptaway, and a broad sheet of smooth, glassy ice showed theresistless force with which it had fallen.

It was inexcusable to follow such a perilous path, but itis easy to understand why it was taken. To have retreatedfrom the place where Croz suggested a change of plan, tohave descended below the reach of danger, and to havemounted again by the route which Aimer suggested, wouldhave been equivalent to abandoning the excursion; for noone would have passed another night in the chalet on the