Elysian Day
By H. C. A. GAUNT (Headmaster of Malvern)
THE alarm clock broke silence at fifty-five minutes after midnight. Agamemnon, knowing it was five minutes too early, grunted and turned over in bed ; but a minute later came a loud rap on thin wood, which Agamemnon could hear repeated for Orestes next door. Down the corridor Achilles was being roused. Agamemnon, as leader of the expedition, manfully switched on the light and peered out of the window. The night showed stars above the pine trees and a gleam of high snow in the moonlight. There could be no excuse for returning to a warm bed. Only Nestor, the old warrior, remained there to dream of the triumphs of former days.
Orestes, his son, new-fledged warrior among, Alpine peaks, already sitting in the hotel dining-room, attacked yesterday's rolls made palatable with fresh butter and sweet cherry jam and „washed down with steaming café-au-lait ; but Agamemnon's middle-aged digestive apparatus did not greatly care to be called upon for hard work in the early hours. Achilles soon joined them, swiftest and surest-footed of all the mountain warriors, now in his prime, their leader upon crag and snow.
Ice-axes clinked on the starry moonlit path, leading upwards through meadows sweet with flowers and the warm smell of ruminating kine. Achilles led steadily, Orestes followed him closely, and Agamemnon, cursing silently the energy of youth, yet made the pace through the first minutes of external sweat and internal rumblings. Soon the rhythm and magic of old, the fairy delicacy of Stone and shadow and the looming buttress ig of ice and rock cast their spell upon the three mortals, and it hardly seemed that two hours had passed when they stood upon the little gap at the head of a wilderness of boulders. Achilles now disappeared down a ladder fixed to the sheer rock wall, a fear- some plunge in the dark, but easy enough once feet and hands felt the firm steel.
Grey twilight was emerging as they reached the glacier, and over to the east the first blue-green of dawn was lightening into gold. Raw, fitful gusts ran among the boulders and ice-streams, and a halt for a quaff of coffee and nibble of a biscuit was short, little more than necessary for putting on the rope against hidden crevasses. Far aloft the summit of the peak soared cold and remote, and ahead a shivering icefall barred the way. But Agamemnon, dipping into a memory of twenty-six years before, pointed to a left-handed snow trough, up which Achilles soon found a royal progress, as Aurora was shedding her veils and lighting the high fastnesses with her rosy glow. Now the incom- parable moment was at hand, when mortal bodies, emerging from the shades of valley-night, first bathe in sunlight, and Agamemnon shuddered in anticipation as first Achilles, then Orestes waded into the surging sea of brilliant snow. Four hours of steady uphill ; five thousand feet gained, and but fifteen hun- dred to go ; it was time to cast limbs upon the soft surface of the wide col and draw noOshment from the rucksack—though Achilles talked airily of breakfast on the top. Orestes was looking anxiously at the snow-back and rocky edge that led from the halting-place up to the summit out of sight beyond. What was ahead ? Was there to be a difficult, steep and rather loose crack, to land you on a windy arete.with a horrifying fall just beyond each knee ? It had been like that three days ago on another peak not so high as this one. It didn't look like that, as far as be could see, and Agamemnon kept on saying that it was much less alarming. But Agamemnon was an incurable optimist, and the precipice down the right-hand side was terrific.
No rucksacks now, as the first few steps in snow, and a little downward traverse in ice-steps, led to the easy rocks ; for half-an- hour no hand was needed over the warm brown .plates and nobbles. Wonder of wonders, the angle was easing ; there was a broa,d back Of snow, then a nearly level ridge with the final up- thrust of the summit at the end of it. \Warriors might stride exultant to victory within their grasp.- But Achilles had stopped and was peering about. Between the level ridge and the promised land an inverted Pisgah opened, a gash eighty feet deep and perpendicular. And if looked as though there were a second one beyond ! It seemed a hopeless impasse! Agamemnon-smiled, for he had been here before, and Achilles smiled, for lie had spotted the clue, and so did Orestes in a few moments, as Achilles led down and across sun-warmed windless rocks and snow-steps, beyond the two harmless monsters and up to the final nick whence the summit-soared into the blue -heaven.
How long now ? An hour ? less perhaps. Achilles was out Of sight round a steep corner, Orestes followed as quickly, and Agamemnon grunted contentedly as he braced himself to follow last on the rope without delaying the other two. Up went the steep staircase carved in magnificent firm rock, with holds for each hand and foot as slab and chimney, wrinkle and crack ,moved steadily downwards beneath the climbing feet. _Hardly was there a pause as rope mounted, and boots gritted, and the smile of deep joy and comradeship spread over features and grew in the heart. Then a call from Achilles, and lo! the rocky bastion was ended, and the suitimit poised its resting-places in golden silence. Twenty-five minutes from the nick !
Orestes was content! For him, too, it had been sheer delight. Down below the steep sides dived away, and out beyond the giants rose up under a nine o'clock liquid sky : Weisshorn, Dent Blanche, Matterhorn, Monte Rosa, Grand Combin, round to the soaring majesty of Mont Blanc. Oberland and Pennine peaks stood like silent watchers waiting for the warriors' return to scale their fastnesses. Would not Nestor be pleased ? He might even now be looking up from the hotel terrace, wishing good luck to the younger warriors ; there would be a catalogue of summits at dinner to remind him of the climbs he once had led over their shining battlements. But for Nestor, no warriors would be rejoicing in them at that moment on their airy perch.
It was early yet, and athwart the homeward line ahead soared another peak, whose north face bellied inwards, like a sail blown taut against a mainmast. Why not add that, and desceRd its comfortable snow back beyond to a new way home ? It meant a plug at midday for an hour and a half up blazing snow. But hearts were high, and had not Agamemnon been led up it by Nestor more than a quarter-century before, when Hephaestus* graced the party ? So down the warriors swooped by rock-cling and snow-glissade to rucksacks on the col. Agamemnon made them take the trudge slowly. But it was only a little after mid- day when a lazy lunch on the second summit was ended, and early afternoon when eyes, released from the snow-glare, lingered upon the coloured moss and blossoms of the moraine path, -and when limbs, supple even after the jarrings of the swift descent, gathered themselves for the final ascent to the bathroom. Nestor was pleased. And at the evening banquet there were beaded bubbles winking at the brim.
* The God of Fuel and Power.
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