He let go his axe, and left it behind, but it overtook him and batted him heartily. He and it travelled in this fashion for some hundreds of feet, and at last subsided into the rocks at the bottom. In a few moments we were reassured as to his safety, by hearing him ironically request us not to keep him waiting down there. [Illustration: THE AIGUILLES D’ARVE, FROM ABOVE THE CHALETS OF RIEU BLANC, SHOWING ROUTE.] We others followed the track shown by the dotted line upon the engraving (making zigzags to avoid the little groups of rocks which jutted through the snow, by which Walker had been upset), descended by a _sitting_ glissade, and rejoined our friend at the bottom. We then turned sharply to the left, and tramped down the summit ridge of an old moraine of great size. Its mud was excessively hard, and where some large erratic blocks lay perched upon its crest, we were obliged to cut steps (in the mud) with our ice-axes. Guided by the sound of a distant “moo,” we speedily found the highest chalets in the valley, named Rieu Blanc. They were tenanted by three old women (who seemed to belong to one of the missing links sought by naturalists), destitute of all ideas except in regard to cows, and who spoke a barbarous patois, well-nigh unintelligible to the Savoyard Croz. They would not believe that we had passed between the Aiguilles,—“It is impossible, the _cows_ never go there.” “Could we get to La Grave over yonder ridge?” “Oh yes! the _cows_ often crossed!” Could they show us the way? No; but we could follow the _cow_-tracks. We stayed a while near these chalets, to examine the western sides of the Aiguilles d’Arve, and, according to our united opinion, the central one was as inaccessible from this direction as from the east, north, or south. On the following day we saw them again, from a height of about 11,000 feet, in a south-easterly direction, and our opinion remained unchanged. We saw (on June 20-22) the central Aiguille from all sides, and very nearly completely round the southernmost one. The northern one we also saw on all sides excepting from the north. (It is, however, precisely from this direction M. Joanne says that its ascent is relatively easy.) We do not, therefore, venture to express any opinion respecting its ascent, except as regards its actual summit. This is formed of two curious prongs, or pinnacles of rock, and we do not understand in what way they (or either of them) can be ascended; nor shall we be surprised if this ascent is discovered to have been made in spirit rather than body; in fact, in the same manner as the celebrated ascent of Mont Blanc, “not entirely to the summit, but as far as the Montanvert!”