Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 209, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 August 1912 — The Climbers [ARTICLE]

The Climbers

Flora, Dear: Your letter rather piqued me. Your accusations were uncalled for. I am n6t secretive; j neither have I evaded your questions purposely. Judson Barnet, or “Jack,” as we now call him, is a wonderfully clever, interesting man, and I admire him exceedingly. You may safely gratify your curiosity with the information that I am not in love with him. Weren’t you surprised to receive my card postmarked Switzerland? "This has been rightly the “playground of Europe.” I have had such a perfect time and dißlike to think that but one more week remains to enjoy the scenery. I have actually climbed five giant mountains of the Alps. Aren’t you envious? Our party arrived at Lucerne during the late afternoon, and when I viewed those majestic mountains, hedged about with mystery—the glaciers filling the neighboring valleys—the snowpeaks, whose white outline against the sky was cameolike in its clearness, I longed to reach their summits. Jack and a few others voiced the same desire, and our consuming ambition became to add notches to our alpenstocks. Early next morning we ascended Rigi to see the sun rise. What an inspiring sight! Far below flowed the River Reuss, and there was Lucerne surrounded with its walls and nine toll houses, resembling a “fairy city” held in the fastness of the mountains by some powerful enchanter. The pink-gold light of dawn heralding the approach of day touched each tip of the lowers, then spread over the flowery fields of the valley. This seemed strange when we were surrounded by snow fields. The following week we went to Lake Brieng and crossed to Interlaken. Here the incomparable Jungfrau loomed invitingly in the distance. The mountain would not come to us, so, like Mohammed, we went to the mountain. At Lauterbrunnen village we took the cable cars, which lifted us 2,200 feet to the famous little alpine village of Murren. | Here we had a wonderful vi6w of Jungfrau. This maiden of the Alps appeals strangely to one. She is surpassed in beauty by Monte Rosa and in grandeur by the Matterhorn. To me she is the loveliest of mountains. We reached the summit at sunset. I never imagined such wonderful coloring possible! The evening clouds and shadows gathered, and finally night enshrouded the peaks with its dark, silent pall. We descended halfway down the mountain and spent the night ft picturesque Swiss inn, where we sat around the huge fireplace relating strange experiences. The following day we journeyed to Byron’s Lake Geneva, with its romantic castle of Chillon, spending two weeks there. Then we came to Zoj> matt. I am a real mountaineer now. You should see me attired in a rough suit, with spiked shoes, green hat adorned with a sprig of edelweiss and my “ruck-sack” strapped to my back. I somewhat resemble Pilgrim on. his rough and weary way. First we ascended Monte Rosa, and two days later braved the Matterhorn. I did not enjoy climbing this mountain, and you will hardly blame me when you have heard all. Six of us started out, tied to the same guide. After climbing for hours and hours I became frightfully fatigued and while scaling a rugged crag I slipped and turned my ankle again. To proceed was 'impossible. The guide told us of several huts built to shelter stormbound climbers, instructing us to remain there until he returned, and not to attempt a descent. Jack assisted me —in fact, I was almost helpless—to the hut, a quarter of a mile from the path. He built a fire and bandaged my ankle, giving me instant relief, and I fell asleep. I awoke several hours later, to find a tempting spread, the contents of our ruck-sack. We were ravenously hungry and ate everything in sight. At three o’clock a terrific snowstorm, In all its fiendish fury, burst upon the mountain. I tried my beat not to appear frightened, but as the hours wore on and inky darkness enveloped us, I wondered if the guide had forgotten to come. All night long we strained our ears for any sound which might foretell the approach of the party. Morning found the storm still raging. Jack showed signs of worry. Our food was entirely gone. At two o'clock the sky cleared and we started to descend. We hadn’t gone far when we were met by a searching party. Two of them escorted ns to Zermatt. It was a wonderful experience, but I haven’t the slightest desire to repeat it Jack just brought the dreadful news that four of the original party were lost in the storm. What a horrible tote! Tonight we stood upon the balcony and watched the calm sunset lights bum upon the Breithom’s crest One last faint, rosy glimpier touched the Matterhorn. Then all grew gray and colorless. Day was done. A shudder passed over us both. Our unusual experience has drawn ns very near, dear Flora, and I appreciate his “bigness” of spirit; but I dc not love him—yet Ever fondly. jmAN. —New York Preen —^—*