It was getting toward evening, and the solemn stillness of the High Alps was broken only by the sound of rushing water or of falling rocks.  If the jump should be successful, well; if not, I fell into the horrible chasm, to be frozen in, or drowned in that gurgling, rushing water.  Everything depended on that jump.  Again I asked myself “Can it be done?” It must be.  So, finding my stick was useless, I threw it and the sketch-book to the ice, and first retreating as far as possible, ran forward with all my might, took the leap, barely reached the other side, and fell awkwardly on my knees.  At the same moment a shower of stones fell on the spot from which I had jumped.

The glacier was crossed without further trouble, but the Riffel, which was then a very small building, was crammed with tourists, and could not take me in.  As the way down was unknown to me, some of the people obligingly suggested getting a man at the chalets, otherwise the path would be certainly lost in the forest.  On arriving at the chalets no man could be found, and the lights of Zermatt, shining through the trees, seemed to say, “Never mind a guide, but come along down; we’ll show you the way”; so off I went through the forest, going straight toward them.  The path was lost in a moment, and was never recovered.  I was tript up by pine roots, I tumbled over rhododendron bushes, I fell over rocks.  The night was pitch-dark, and after a time the lights of Zermatt became obscure or went out altogether.  By a series of slides or falls, or evolutions more or less disagreeable, the descent through the forest was at length accomplished, but torrents of a formidable character had still to be passed before one could arrive at Zermatt.  I felt my way about for hours, almost hopelessly, by an exhaustive process at last discovering a bridge, and about midnight, covered with dirt and scratches, reentered the inn which I had quitted in the morning....

I descended the valley, diverging from the path at Randa to mount the slopes of the Dom (the highest of the Mischabelhoerner), in order to see the Weisshorn face to face.  The latter mountain is the noblest in Switzerland, and from this direction it looks especially magnificent.  On its north there is a large snowy plateau that feeds the glacier of which a portion is seen from Randa, and which on more than one occasion has destroyed that village.  From the direction of the Dom—­that is, immediately opposite—­this Bies glacier seems to descend nearly vertically; it does not do so, altho it is very steep.  Its size is much less than formerly and the lower portion, now divided into three tails, clings in a strange, weird-like manner to the cliffs, to which it seems scarcely possible that it can remain attached.