done?" It must be. So, finding my stick was useless, I threw it and the
sketch-book to the ice, and first retreating as far as possible, ran
forward with all my might, took the leap, barely reached the other side,
and fell awkwardly on my knees. At the same moment a shower of stones
fell on the spot from which I had jumped.

The glacier was crossed without further trouble, but the Riffel, which
was then a very small building, was crammed with tourists, and could
not take me in. As the way down was unknown to me, some of the people
obligingly suggested getting a man at the chalets, otherwise the path
would be certainly lost in the forest. On arriving at the chalets no man
could be found, and the lights of Zermatt, shining through the trees,
seemed to say, "Never mind a guide, but come along down; we'll show you
the way"; so off I went through the forest, going straight toward them.
The path was lost in a moment, and was never recovered. I was tript up
by pine roots, I tumbled over rhododendron bushes, I fell over rocks.
The night was pitch-dark, and after a time the lights of Zermatt became
obscure or went out altogether. By a series of slides or falls, or
evolutions more or less disagreeable, the descent through the forest was
at length accomplished, but torrents of a formidable character had still
to be passed before one could arrive at Zermatt. I felt my way about for
hours, almost hopelessly, by an exhaustive process at last discovering a
bridge, and about midnight, covered with dirt and scratches, reentered
the inn which I had quitted in the morning....

I descended the valley, diverging from the path at Randa to mount the
slopes of the Dom (the highest of the Mischabelhörner), in order to
see the Weisshorn face to face. The latter mountain is the noblest in
Switzerland, and from this direction it looks especially magnificent. On
its north there is a large snowy plateau that feeds the glacier of which