A strong wind sprang up from the east during the night, and in the morning it was blowing almost a hurricane. The tent behaved nobly, and we remained under its shelter for several hours after the sun had risen, uncertain what it was best to do. A lull tempted us to move, but we had scarcely ascended a hundred feet before the storm burst upon us with increased fury. Advance or return was alike impossible; the ridge was denuded of its débris; and we clutched our hardest when we saw stones as big as a man’s fist blown away horizontally into space. We dared not attempt to stand upright, and remained stationary, on all fours, glued, as it were, to the rocks. It was intensely cold, for the blast had swept along the main chain of the Pennine Alps, and across the great snow-fields around Monte Rosa. Our warmth and courage rapidly evaporated, and at the next lull we retreated to the tent; having to halt several times even in that short distance. Taugwald and Kronig then declared that they had had enough, and refused to have anything more to do with the mountain. Meynet also informed us that he would be required down below for important cheese-making operations on the following day. It was therefore needful to return to Breil, and we arrived there at 2.30 P.M., extremely chagrined at our complete defeat. Jean-Antoine Carrel, attracted by rumours, had come up to the inn during our absence, and after some negotiations agreed to accompany us, with one of his friends named Pession, on the first fine day. We thought ourselves fortunate; for Carrel clearly considered the mountain a kind of _preserve_, and regarded our late attempt as an act of _poaching_. The wind blew itself out during the night, and we started again, with these two men and a porter, at 8 A.M. on the 9th, with unexceptionable weather. Carrel pleased us by suggesting that we should camp even higher than before; and we accordingly proceeded, without resting at the Col, until we overtopped the Tête du Lion. Near the foot of the “Chimney,” a little below the crest of the ridge, and on its eastern side, we found a protected place; and by building up from ledge to ledge (under the direction of our leader, who was a mason by profession), we at length constructed a platform of sufficient size and of considerable solidity. Its height was about 12,550 feet above the sea; and it exists, I believe, at the present time.(53) We then pushed on, as the day was very fine, and, after a short hour’s scramble, got to the foot of the Great Tower upon the ridge (that is to say, to Mr. Hawkins’ farthest point), and afterwards returned to our bivouac. We turned out again at 4 A.M., and at 5.15 started upwards once more, with fine weather and the thermometer at 28°. Carrel scrambled up the Chimney, and Macdonald and I after him. Pession’s turn came, but when he arrived at the top he looked very ill, declared himself to be thoroughly incapable, and said that he must go back. We