The air was still, damp and over freezing point throughout the _Eiskammer_, and all the signs showed that the cave was in a state of thaw. Although the rocks are limestone and scarcely blackened by smoke anywhere, yet as our torches did not give much light, the color impression was black and gray, like the Schafloch. At the hotel the landlord confirmed in every particular the story of the cave freezing hardest in August or September. He had never been there himself, but stated that everyone said the same thing, and that many people had "broken their heads" trying to account for it. At eight o'clock in the evening, my guide came to let me know that the man and boy, whom we left trying to penetrate the cave, had just turned up after making all their relatives extremely anxious. They were nearly lost, and had in general an extremely uncomfortable time. It is scarcely to be wondered at that accidents occur in caves and on mountains when people, with neither knowledge nor proper preparation, go wandering off by themselves into the unknown.[4] [4] On the evening of June 29th, 1897, I met at Hieflau three Viennese tourists who had come that day through the Frauenmauer. They found the lake on the ice floor of the _Eiskammer_, just as I had in 1896. They said also, moreover, that they found ice and icicles or ice columns in the main cave; unfortunately, they did not explain clearly in what part. THE MILCHHÄUSER OF SEELISBERG. The summer of 1896, will long be remembered by Alpine climbers for the pitiless rain storm, which kept coming steadily down during the vacation months. It was in the midst of this that I arrived at Trieb, on the Lake of Lucerne, on the 6th of August, to see whether I could find the windholes which were reported near Seelisberg. At the landing place I found Herr J. M. Ziegler, the owner of the Hotel Bellevue at Seelisberg, who promptly secured a nice, blond bearded young fellow, a relative of his and his _knecht_, as a guide. It was pouring when we started, a proceeding which kept on during our entire excursion. We tramped up a narrow road, paved with great stones in the old Swiss fashion, and, as my guide truly said, awfully steep for horses. Half an hour from the boat landing, took us to the first milkhouse, which belonged to Herr Ziegler. It was in a small patch of woods, and was placed against a cliff, where rocks had fallen down and formed a talus of broken detritus. The side walls of the house were built out from the cliff and roofed over, and the front wall had a doorway closed with a wooden door. At the back the detritus or _geröll_ was built into a vertical, unplastered wall between most of the interstices of which, cool air came forth. Several of these interstices were fairly large holes of uncertain depth. It was a cool day and the air currents were only a little cooler than the temperature outside.