The Arizona sentinel., 1889-12-07
AN ALPINE CLIMB.
Climbing That Meant the Most Terrible
 of Hard Work.

Climbing That Meant the Most Terrible
 of Hard Work.
 Now began the real struggle. As we went climbing up the steep bank above the spot where we had hreakfasted, the wind blew in real earnest; the way was steep, but it was so cold as to prevent any but the very shortest balts. The rarity of the air, too, at height already of 5000 feet, was becoming more and more perceptible, and we were glad enough at the end of three-quarters of an hour to get to the "RocherdeS Bosses" the only break near the summit in this mighty world of snow. Behind this rock we sat down, sheltered from the wind, and gazed thoughtfully up at that summit far, far above us.
 We now abandoned all our baggage that was not absolutely necessary, and girded ourselves for the last fight. The first half mile was at an angle of nearly forty-ive degrees up an ''arete, as they call it. An arete is delightful. It means originally the backbone of fish; on the snow mountain it consists of ridge of ice covered with snow, and coming to an edge on top rarely as much as a foot in width. The path leads along this ridge pole, ascending all the while at sharp incline, and the sides of the arete sweep off and down to frightful depth of hum dreds or thousands of feet. There is freshness and charm about the whole thing when emphasized by blizzard of wind and snow whistling mile min ute up one side and down the other which IS very expressing.
 As soon as the promenade up the first arete was completed, another appeared before us, and there was nothing to do but tackle it in the same way. We kept up this rather wearing amusement for an hour and half, puffing like DOT poises in the thin air, and we stood at last at the foot of the final arete, which ended in the summit. The wind helped us up somewhat, but we had scarcely wop our victory, and stood at last upon the loftiest point in Europe, 15,731 feet above the sea, and were enjoying the magnificent view to our hearts content, when a whirlwind of snow struck us with tremendous violence.
 The guides knew well enough that we couldn't stay alive long up there, and we started down on the dead run.
 My fathers alpenstock got tangled in the rope as we turned, and as the rope frightened for the descent the stick went shooting off miles into space; the guides said it could never have stopped in it's wild slide till it reached the ''Glacer du Geant," thousands of feet below. The scarf that had tied over my ears was
 
 st. p5 my right ear was pretty we'll frozen and my face perfectly numb. We were soon protected from the full force of the wind, and the few blasts that whistled round us on the way down seemed like the breath of spring after what we had come through.
 The rest of the descent to the "Grands Mulets" was long, hard pull, and the heat was now as intense as the cold had been, the inevitable result of walking on the glaring snow, but we had made the top" and cared for nothing.
 After an hours rest at the cabin we walked all the way down to Chamounix, arriving there at nine o'clock, having tramped over forty of the hardest miles in Europe in one day, and that, too, after a night of only three hours sleep.
 They fired six cannon shots as we en- tered the town, and we tramped in as happy as larks. Every body was out, and we were the observed of all ob- servers.
 Our ascension was the eleven hundred and sixth which had been made in one hundred years, the seventh this year. We found that only one attempt in thir- ty-five to reach the summit succeeds; some fail on account of bad weather, others because members of the party be- come worn cut or grow delirious from the rarity of the air. On the whole, we were very lucky in our success, and are happy enough over it.-Cor. N. Y. Times. i