met with. Snow fell at Canton to the depth of four inches on the 8th of February 1836,-an unprecedented phenomenon in the memory of the Chinese.' Snow does not seem to deepen on the tops of those lofty mountains where the temperature is ever below the freezing-point. This was observed by Dr Martin Barry on Mont Blanc, by comparison of the exposed rocks measured by Saussure and himself."

204. Those great accumulations of snow which are met with in alpine regions, when loosened either by their own weight or the softening influences of winds and the solar rays, give rise to one of the grandest and most awful features of the locality,

"The Avalanche-the thunderbolt of snow."

The avalanche3 is the dread of the traveller in those inhospitable regions, where its thunderings break the solemn stillness of the scene, and warn him of danger. Parties proceed in single file, and expedite the journey by avoiding haltings. They advance, guarding against every noise, not even daring to disturb the equilibrium of the delicately poised snow by the vibrations of the mules' bells, which are carefully muffled; thus they wend their way,

205. The avalanche on a tremendous scale, is often met with among the impassable mountains of the Caucasus. These immense masses of snow mingled with ice, obstructing in their fall the mountain-torrent in some narrow gorge, wait the bursting of the accumulating waters to sweep destruction before them. Such was the fate of the Val de Bagnes in the Valais. Icy avalanches had fallen from the Mont Pleureur, and obstructed the Drance in that wild and striking gorge. It was in 1595 that the pent-up waters burst their bounds, and swept nearly 150 human beings, besides cattle, onward in the torrent. With a more calamitous result, the mountain stream was again-in the present century-intercepted by 1 Athen. No. 473, p. 817.

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2 Ascent of Mont Blanc, p. 59.

Simon.-Lavanges, lids, lits; Lavina of Italy and the Grisons; Congeres of the Pyrenees; Lowen, lavinen of Germany; Snce-fond, snee-shred of Norway,

snowy avalanches and masses of the glacier of Getroz, and a lake formed in the valley between Mont Mauvoisin and Mont Pleureur. The water had accumulated to 800,000,000 cubic feet, of which more than a third part had been carried off by a tunnel, cut by the hardy Vallaisans, under the able direction of M. Venetz the engineer. On the 16th of June 1818, the dike burst, and in one half hour the waters which had accumulated for months were discharged! In less than six hours they had mingled with the Leman Lake, destroying property worth £40,000; forty human beings perished, and more would have been lost had not the people been cautioned to retire.'

206. The inhabitants of the Alps distinguish two kinds of avalanches, the staub-lawinen and the grund-lawinen. The former or the drift or dust-avalanches-are not so formidable as the latter, from which there is little hope of extrication. The staub-lawine is formed of fresh fallen loosely aggregated snow, heaped by the wind or drifted into some sheltered spot, where it slips from its resting-place before the sun's rays have melted the surface, and the cold formed it into a mass. Such an avalanche spreads itself over a wide extent. It rushes with enormous velocity, and such is its impetus, that it will ascend the other side of the valley before it stops, overwhelming every thing in its path, prostrating a whole forest if it offers obstruction to its passage. The grund-lawine or rolling-avalanche-occurs in spring, when the sun's rays are becoming powerful, and the snow, under its influence, thaws. As that luminary advances, and his beams strike different parts of the mountain, fresh portions of the snow are loosened, and a succession of avalanches constantly falls. Nothing can resist its impetuous descent, and if, through some unusual cause, it leaves its ordinary track, severe calamities are experienced. When the avalanches descend with a slow sliding motion, the Swiss denominate them suoggilauinen (pronounced suggy) or rutsch-lauinen-the creeping avalanches. These often change their original character as they meet with obstructions in their descent. Thus, the

1 Vide M. Escher de Linth.,-Bib. Univ. tom. viii. 291; Ib. tom. xxii. 58; Brockedon,-Excurs, in the Alps, &c.

creeping-avalanche may become a rolling-avalanche, and, finally, a dust-avalanche, as the inclination of the mountain changes, and projecting rocks catch the falling snow. There is still another, called the ice-avalanche, composed of small fragments of the glacier.

207. The avalanches of Mont Blanc, Monte Rosa, and the Jungfraw, are constantly heard thundering during summer. They are caused by the rays of the mid-day sun, and by certain winds loosening the snow upon the mountain side, or rupturing the glacier reposing at its foot, precipitating them downwards till they find another resting place, or are scattered by the wind. The following is descriptive of such an avalanche. It occurred in July 1845, when Mr Speer and his guide were descending from the Wetterhorn, in the Bernese Alps, whose summit they had safely reached a few hours before. "Our successful triumph over this alarming obstacle having greatly inspired us, we prepared to cross a narrow slope of ice, on which our leader was diligently hacking a few steps. A sudden rumbling sound, however, arrested our attention; the rear guides drew the rest back with the ropes with violence, and the next moment an avalanche thundered down over the slope we had been preparing to cross, leaving the whole party petrified with horror at the narrowness of the escape. The clouds of fine snow in which we had been enveloped having subsided, we again descended, during three hours, a succession of steep walls of ice and snow, reaching the glacier of Rosenalui at 5 P. M.”

208. The character and dangers of these avalanches are well exhibited in the following intensely interesting account of the melancholy attempt of Dr Hamel, a Moscovite, and his party, to reach the summit of Mont Blanc, in August 1820. He was accompanied by Gilbert Henderson, Esq., of Liverpool, Joseph Dornford, Esq., and eight guides. M. Selligue and two other guides did not ascend farther than the Grand Mulet, the resting place of the party during the night. There they had just finished preparations for repose when a thunder-storm came on, and it continued stormy till morning, when the atmosphere became so clear that the Lake of Geneva was visible. The weather, however, was unsettled,

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and they resolved to bivouac in the same place for another night; two guides were sent to Le Prieuré for provisions, and Dr Hamel reboiled the mercury in a barometer. At 5 P.M. there was a fall of hail, and until midnight the sky was cloudy; next morning the air was serene and calm, and the party proceeded on their ascent. They reached the Grand Plateau, and were climbing up the side of the mountain, when an avalanche swept away the party, and three of the guides perished. It is thus narrated by Dr Clarke:-" Suddenly I heard," says one of the guides, "a sort of rushing sound, not very loud; but I had no time to think about it, for, as I heard the sound, at the same instant the avalanche was upon us. I felt my feet slide from beneath me, and saw the three first men fallen upon the snow, with their feet foremost. In falling I cried out loudly, 'Nous sommes tous perdu !' I tried to support myself by planting the ice-pole below me, but in vain. The weight of snow forced me over the bâton, and it slipped out of my hand. I rolled down the slope; and when we were all on the very edge of the chasm, I saw the legs of one of my comrades just as he pitched down into the crevasse. think it must have been poor Auguste, for it looked black, and I remember that Auguste had on black gaiters. This was the last I saw of my three companions, who fell headlong into the gulf, and were never seen or heard of again. At this moment I was just falling into the same crevasse, and can but confusedly understand why I did not; but I think I owe my life to a very singular circumstance. Dr Hamel had given me a barometer to carry; this was fastened round my waste by a strong girdle. I fancy that at the moment, this long barometer got beneath and across me, for the girdle suddenly broke, I made a sort of bound as I fell more than 50 feet down, alighting on the soft cushion of snow, and a good deal covered with it above. I suppose before tumbling into the chasm we slid down from 150 to 200 feet, but I cannot tell, for it seemed to me not more than a minute from the time I heard the noise of the avalanche above me, till I found myself lying deep down in a narrow crack; all estimate of dis

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1 Julien Devouassau, the guide who escaped poisoning by sulphuric acid early in the ascent.

tances, in such situations, must be mere guesses. Couttet's reply to the same question was this: I should fancy I slid down nearly 400 feet, and tumbled headlong about 60 feet.' I asked Julien what his thoughts were during this awkward tumble. His reply was in these words,- Pendant que j'ai roulé, j'ai dit à moi-même, Je suis perdu, adieu ma femme, et mes enfans! et j'ai demandé pardon à Dieu. Je n'ai rien pensé absolument des autres.' On coming to myself I was better off than I expected. I was lying on my back, heels upwards, with my head resting against the icy walls of the crevasse, and I could see some light, and a little of the blue sky through two openings over my head. I was greatly afraid that some. of my limbs had been broken, but I had sunk into the mass. of soft snow, and, though bruised by falling against the sides. of the ice, yet nothing was broken, and in a few minutes I contrived to get up on my feet. On looking up, I saw a little above me a man's head projecting from the snow. It was Marie Couttet, our guide en chef. He was quite covered with snow up to the neck, his arms pinioned down, and his face quite blue, as if he was nearly suffocated. He called to me in a low voice to come and help him. I found a pole in the crevasse ; I went to Couttet, dug round him with the baton, and in a few minutes got him clear of the snow, and we sat down together. We remained in silence, looking at each other for a minute or two, thinking that all the rest were killed. Then I began to crawl up on the snow that partly filled the crack; and in climbing up I saw above me David Couttet, who was crying and saying, 'Mon pauvre frère est perdu!' I said, 'Non! Il est ici en bas.' Et moi j'ai dit, 'Les autres sont ils tous là en haut?' Ils ont dit qu'il manquoit encore trois. Et j'ai demandé, ‘Qui sont-ils qui manquent?' Ils ont dit, Pierre Cairriez, Pierre Balmat, et Auguste Tairraz.' Nous avons demandé, si les messieurs avoient du mal? Ils on dit que non.' Then the guides helped us to get about 14 feet on the solid ice. They threw us down a little axe to cut steps, and put down the end of their poles and we got out. We all went to search for the three others; we sounded with our poles, we cried aloud, we called them by their names, put down a long pole into the snow and listened, but all in vain,

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