The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1877-11-28

Jumps of minerals and q piece of gyp
sum with fine crystals, he was constantly
gazing at the upper end of the toilsome
road for signs Of crags and snow fields
above. But a soft mist curtain hung
there, where the snow seem to begin
and who could tell what lay beyond
The solitude must, indeed, have been
awful then, for everything like certainty
and calculation had ceased. From the
tremendous height, Little Ararat, lying
he did not know how many thousand Of
feet beneath him, looked to the climber
like broken obelisk. And he could
only imagine the plain, misty, dream.
like c1panse below. Only one hour was
before him now at its end he must
turn back-if, indeed, his strength could
hold ont for that other hour. He strug,
gled on mp the crumbling rocks, now tc
the right, now to the left, as the foot
hold looked little tirmer on either side,
until suddenly the rock-slope came tc
an end, and he stepped ont on the al
most level SNOW at the top of it into the
clouds, into the teeth of the strong west
wind, into cold SO great That an icicle
envelopcd the lower half of his face al
once, and did not melt until four hours
afterward. He frightened in his loose
light coat with Spanish neckscarf, anG
walked straight on over the snow, fol
lowing the rise, seeing only about thirty
yards ahead of him in the thick mist
Time was flying if the invisible sum.
NIT of the mountain of the Ark were in
deed far off now, if this gentle rise
stretched on and on, that summit must
remain unseen by him who had dared
and did so great feat that he might
look from its sacred eminence. BE
trailed the point of the ice-ax in the
soft snow, to mark the backward track,
for there was no longer any landmark
all was cloud on every side. Suddenly
he felt with amazement that the ground
was falling way to the north, and he
stood still. A puff of the west wind
drove away the mists on the opposite
side to that by which he had come, and
his eyes rested on the paradise plain at
an abysmal depth below. The solitary
traveller stood on the top of Mount Ara
rat, with the history of the world spread
beneath his gaze, and all around him q
scene which reduced that history to pig
my proportions, and man himself to in
finite littleness.
Mr.. Bryce has given to the world q
! wonderful word-picture of that amazing
and awful spectacle, of that " landscape
which is now what it was before man
crept forth on the earth, the mountains
which stand about the valleys as they
stood when the volcanic masses that
piled them were long age extinguished.
His vision ranged over the vast expanse
within whose bounds are the chain of
/ the Caucasus, dimly made our, but
Kazbek, Elbruz and the mountains OF
Daghrstan visible with the line of the
Caspian sea upon the horizon; to the
north the hugh extinct volcano Of Ala
Coz, whose three peaks enclose q SNOW
patched crater, the dim plain of EVivan,
with the silver river winding through it;
westward, the Taurus ranges and
northwest, the upper valley OF the
! Araxes, to be traced as far as Ami, the
ancient capital of the Armenian kingdom;
! the great Russian fortress Of Alexandra
pol, and the hill where Kars stands
/ peaceful enough when the brave climber
looked ont upon this wonderful specta-
Gle. While it was growing upon him,
not iuleed in magnihcence, but in com.
prehcnsibitity, "while the eye was still
nnsatistied with gazing" the mist-cur-
tain dropped, EMBODIED him, and shut
linn up alone with the awful mountain
! top. "The ave that fell upon me, he
says, with the sense Of utter loneliness,
made time pass unnoticed, and [ might
have fingered long in 4 sort of dream,
| had not the piercing cold that thrilled
! through every limb recalled me to a
sense of the risks delay might involve.
Only four hours of daylight remained,
! the thick mist was an added danger, the
ice.ax marks were his only guide, for
the compass was useless on a volcanic
mountain like Ararat, with iron in the
rocks The descent was made in safety,
but bv the time Mr.. Bryce came III
sight of the spot, yet far of, where his
I friends had halted, the sun had got
! DeIlUu luc luc SOltluNColSA1 'io6o vs.
the mountains, and his gigantic shadow
, had failed across the great Araxes plain
below, while the red mountains of Me-
din, far to the southeast, still glowed
retller than ever, then turned swiftly to
splendid purple iu the dying light. y
At six o'clock he reached the bivouac
and rcjoinel his friend, who must have
looked with strange feelings into the
eyes which had looked upon s such Won
lrous sights since sunrise. Three days
after, Mr. Bryce was at the Armenian
monastery OF Etchmiadzin, near the
northern foot of Ararat, and was pre-
sented to the Archimandrite who rules
the house. "This Englishman, said
the Armenian gentleman who was acting
as interpreter, "says he has ascended to
the top of Massis" (Ararat). The ven.
cradle man smiled sweetly, and replied
with gentle decisivness, "That cannot
be. No one has ever been there. 1t is
imnosSiblc - LOudOn Spectator.