The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1897-08-25
MY LITTLE ADVENTURE.
BY Willis 3. Hl1en.
WE WERE both we'll tired out,

ME WE'RE both well tired OUT,
Wv one July evening in 1885, when we
reached ChamouniX, Fred, my old Latin
school classmate, could bear mountain
climbing, and, what was worse, mule
back riding, much better than l, so that,
while l was glad to find my way to my
room, in the top of the queer old hotel.
al an early hour in the evening, Fred
remained in the parlor, busily studying
up maps and guides for an excursion
over the Mer de Glace to the Garden
a small, fertile spot, by
eternal ice, in the very heart OF the
mountains.
Next morning he was off at four
o'clock, leaving me to spend the day
quietly in the valley. l was disturbed
but once more before rising; this time
by a herd of goats, who scrambled along
under my window, with bells tinkling
merrily enough.
In the course of the forenoon I strolled
away, book in hand, following the
course of the Arve for a little while.
and then, striking off at right angles
up the banks of a small brook, which
joins the larger stream just above the
village.
The air was soft and sweet with sum-
mer sunlight, and the breath of the
silent forests, reaching from my feet
higher and higher, until the front rank
looked on these d~esolate, glittering
fields of snow that crown Mount Blanc.
Beside the brook the velvety turf was
dotted with wild forget-me-nots and
pansies, growing there as confidently as
if they were not in the very track of last
years avalanche.
At length l came to a spot where the
brook had in ages past strewn it's own
path with fragments of huge rocks,
which it had loosened and thrown down
from some far-off height, where the
foot of man never trod.
One gigantic bowlder lay completely
across the original bed of the stream,
and rose like a wall beside the water,
that turned out of its way, and ran off
with a good-natured murmur.
The sun here lay warm and bright,
just co~unteracting the chill breeze that
came from the glaciers through the
narrow gorge. I gathered a few dry
sticks, kindled a fire, just for company,
and nestled comfortably down into an
easy corner to read the rocks, the brook,
the sky, and, if there were time left,
was "R~edgauntlet."
How long I sat there / cannot tell.
1t must have been two or three hours,
for it was past noon when 1 looked
at my watch, threw the smoldering
firebrands into the brook and rose to
return to the hotel.
AS l did so, 1 noticed half a dozen
footsteps in the steep, sandy bank that
formed the side Of the ravine at this
point. 1t suddenly occurred to me that
/ had read in my guide book, while |
was sitting in my own room, six months
before, of a certain waterfall, which,
from the description, must surely be on
this brook. Yes, l recollected the base
of the zig-zag path, that we had seen as
we rode along the valley, on our way
from Tete Noire, late the preceding
afternoon.
I was feeling much refreshed and
rested by my ~siesta, and, by a short cut
over this embankment, / could doubt
less strike that path after a three min
utes' scramble, as some one had evil
IDENTIFY done before me.
So I would have a little adventure,
and see one of the sights of Chamounix
all by myself.
Certainly there was nothing rash in
dertaking, though a certain feebleness
resulting from a recent i'll turn at Gen.
eva should have warned me against
tasking my strength too severely.
AT any rate, at it / went, laughing