We had now arrived at the foot of that part which, seen from the Riffelberg, seems perpendicular or overhanging.  We could no longer continue on the eastern side.  For a little distance we ascended by snow upon the are^te—­that is, the ridge—­then turned over to the right, or northern side.  The work became difficult, and required caution.  In some places there was little to hold; the general slope of the mountain was less than forty degrees, and snow had accumulated in, and had filled up, the interstices of the rock-face, leaving only occasional fragments projecting here and there.  These were at times covered with a thin film of ice.  It was a place which any fair mountaineer might pass in safety.  We bore away nearly horizontally for about four hundred feet, then ascended directly toward the summit for about sixty feet, then doubled back to the ridge which descends toward Zermatt.  A long stride round a rather awkward corner brought us to snow once more.  That last doubt vanished!  The Matterhorn was ours!  Nothing but two hundred feet of easy snow remained to be surmounted.

The higher we rose, the more intense became the excitement.  The slope eased off, at length we could be detached, and Croz and I, dashed away, ran a neck-and-neck race, which ended in a dead heat.  At 1:40 P.M., the world was at our feet, and the Matterhorn was conquered!

The others arrived.  Croz now took the tent-pole, and planted it in the highest snow.  “Yes,” we said, “there is the flag-staff, but where is the flag?” “Here it is,” he answered, pulling off his blouse and fixing it to the stick.  It made a poor flag, and there was no wind to float it out, yet it was seen all around.  They saw it at Zermatt—­at the Riffel—­in the Val Tournanche... .

We remained on the summit for one hour—­

One crowded hour of glorious life.

It passed away too quickly, and we began to prepare
for the descent.

Hudson and I consulted as to the best and safest arrangement of the party.  We agreed that it was best for Croz to go first, and Hadow second; Hudson, who was almost equal to a guide in sureness of foot, wished to be third; Lord Douglas was placed next, and old Peter, the strongest of the remainder, after him.  I suggested to Hudson that we should attach a rope to the rocks on our arrival at the difficult bit, and hold it as we descended, as an additional protection.  He approved the idea, but it was not definitely decided that it should be done.  The party was being arranged in the above order while I was sketching the summit, and they had finished, and were waiting for me to be tied in line, when some one remembered that our names had not been left in a bottle.  They requested me to write them down, and moved off while it was being done.