Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1873-06-27
Nv .sLPI.vR .1DJ'B.vTURB X.

Avalanches fall during the whole year,
but those in summer are for the most part
comparatively inconsiderable, consisting
merely of crusts of snow, which remain
on the crest of Il precipice till loosened and
un dermined by the summer heat and thaw.
Yet these are quite sufficient to "tickle the
catastrophe of passing tourists, as wit
ness the following accident which happen
ed to the writer personally in midsum-
mer ramble among the mountains of the
valley of Meyringen, his object being, af-
ter visiting the fall of the Aar at Handek,
to pass the night at the hospice of the Grim
sell The weather being perfectly serene,
and the snow having entirely disappeared
from the lower valleys, l deemed it quite
unnecessary to take guide-the more so
as l wished 10 linger at pleasure among the
beautiful scenes with which tho HASH ev-
erywhere abounds.
A curious and high-pitched bridge of one
arch spanned the torrent of the Aar, swoll-
en- with the melted SHOWS and foamirg
over huge blocks fallen from the noun
tains above. Upon this bridge came to a
pause. On either hand rose abruptly from
the stream two enormous slopes covered
with snow, which hung over its precipitous
banks. The path was covered, but there
were two lines of footsteps to be traced,
one along the course OF the stream, the 9TH
er rapidly ascending the mountain, appar-
emily shorter cut to the hospice of the
Grlmsel, my evening bourne, which 1
knew to be lot far distant. After a brief
pause l decided on following the latter 1t
proved more difficult than expected and
W hen l had advanced by planting my feet
in the foot holes of the former passengers,
to he ght of about fifty feet above the
stream, halted a second time, hesitating
whether, as tho sun was fast sinking, it
W ould not be rash TO follow track so
steep and toilsome without any certainty
as to where it led, and whether it might
not be more prudent to retrace my steps
and keep to the bank of the stream, when,
if out of tho right path l was certain of
reaching some chalet where / could obtain
guidance, or, if need were, shelter for the
night. Perhaps ii was well that l advanc-
ed no higher, for just as / resolved to de-
scend and had turned round, carefully
availing myself of the holes which offered
frail footing from my slippery perch on
the smooth hard snow, to my horror that
noise was so familiar with, though as yet
at distance-the fearful sound of the ava
lanche-burst upon my ear with appalling
distinctness and proximity; and looking
up the steep slope of the mountain, 1 per-
ceived that mass ofsnow which had accum-
ulated on some perpendicular precipices was
suddenly loosened from its precarous po-
sition, and in huge solid blocks and brok-
on heaps was descending in a direct line to
the spot where stood. Escape was mpos-
sible the lightning flash was scarce more
rapid or sudden than the resistless sweep of
the avalanche. Iaverted my head instinct
lively from the first fearful shock, and thus
receiving on my shoulders violent con-
cussion, was hurled along in the midst of
the fallen snow, receiving blow after blow
from the loose blocks, which burst as they
descended, and in moment was violently
precipitated with the entire mass into the
foaming torrent of the Aar. The instanta-
neous nature of the accident almost pre-
cluded any distinctness of sensation one
sole aud terrible idea passed with electric
speed-that of instant entombment in the
falling mass, of the most fearful and per-
haps lingering of deaths-and the sadness
Of thus perishing In manner unknown to
those dear to me till the discovery of my
bones should solve at length the mystery
of my long disappearance. While this
idea was still passing through my mind,
1 found myself in the foaming waters
struggling instinctvely to disengage my