The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1905-01-27


to the SAINTS Range, which is supposed
to be particularly good for chamois.
Unfortunately, neither of us was able
to accompany him. Pauson expected
relatives, and as regards myself I'M
portant business, which / could not
very well postpone, made such jour
ney impossible. Poor Weber was bit
terly disappointed, but as he was used
to going about the mountains alone he
set off without US, promising to be
back in three days time at the latest,
and on his return to remain with us
for q few more days before going
back to Innsbruck.
The three days passed by, but Weber
did not make his appearance. can
not say, however, that we were very
anxious at first, for it was quite likely
that he had been delayed. Only on
the fifth day after his departure did l
begin to have doubts as to his safety.
When he did not turn up after week
l felt certain that some mishap must
have come to him, so Pauson and l
set off on voyage of discovery.
Having previously accompanied him
on similar shooting expeditions, we
had very good idea as to the route
he would follow. The snow-clad
Saints is the highest mountain in the
canton, being 1885 feet in height. But
l think Pauson and l can say, with
out Boosting, that we knew it as in
timately as the streets of our native
village of Appenzell. If Weber had not
been buried under an avalanche,
which was unlikely at this time of the
year, l felt certain that we should find
him. And so we did On reaching the
top of one of the peaks of the Saints,
not without a thousand difficulties,
espied his body lying on narrow
ledge of rock, at the very edge Of a
least 600 feet in depth, and which ter
inmates in a glacier At that moment
there was no doubt in my mind that
we should find him dead. Judge of
my establishment, therefore, when we
found, after carefully working our
way down the side of the mountain,
that he was still alive, though evil
IDENTITY in the last stages of exhaustion.
Never have 1 experienced such a diff
ficult task as we then began. 1t is no
easy matter travelling over snow-and-
ice-clad mountain with a living person
under ones guidance, but imagine
what 1t is to transport the dead weight
of an injured and unconscious man
over the miles upon miles of frozen
snow One false step might have re-
suited in our meeting a similar fate
to that of our poor friend The marvel
to me is that we ever succeeded in get
ting down to the house of farmer
named Studer. There he was put to
bed and a doctor Immediately sum-
moned to examine him.
1t was found that Vever had sus-
tanned a compound fracture Of the
right leg, that two of his ribs were
broken, and that he was internally in
jured. The poor fellow was very near
his end by the time the doctor arrived,
and he only once recovered conscious
ness before his death. cannot be GER
tain as to whether he recognized me or
not, but l rather think he did, for the
few broken sentences which family
passed his lips seemed to be an ex-
PLANTATION Of the circumstances of his
accident.
Piecing together his words and
them in the light OF my
knowledge of the place where the ac-
cident occurred, this, in my opinion,
is what happened. Vever climbed the
mountain from the left side, across the
ridge. and, sighting his quarry near
the summit, worked his way around
so as to arrive above the animal.
When he fired, his bullet hit the cha
mois in a vital spot, but, instead or
falling where he could easily reach it,
the animal dropped some forty feet
down the ice slope, which is exceed
Ingly steep. Weber then attempted to
reach it by carefully climbing down
the slope, but in so doing his foot
slipped and he fell from about mios
way. landing near the dead body OF the
chamois on the very edge OF the precl-
pice. To have made his way down
the right side of the mountain would
have been quite possible. though diff
cult. for an able-bodied man, the ledge
ON which he had landed broadening
out as it stretches toward the ridge.
Weber found, however that he was too
seriously injured by his fall to move
more than his arms, and there he was
obliged to lie, with his legs half hang
ing over the precipice. He was, in fact,
in a living tomb--a precipice in front of
him and an unsurmountable slope be-
hind him. Hope of rescue there was
none, unless his friends should come
in search Of him and happen to catch
sight Of him-a mere speck against the
he lay.