A FAMILY IN THE EVOLENA DIS- It was a wet night, and about nine o'clock, and we were sitting in one of the rooms of the Hôtel du Lion d'Or at Sion. A garçon had been sent to fetch a porter, they must be rare in that town, judging from the time he was gone, and we were waiting until he should return, and bring the man with him. At last there was a knock at the door, and the garçon entered. Our us the information we most required. party consisted of seven, and being at the same time an odd party for wandering about in unfrequented districts, we wanted an account of the little mountain inns, and of the accommodation we were likely to meet with. This account we hoped during our outward journey to obtain from some one who had visited the district. But here again we were disappointed. We did not meet with a single person who had either visited that part of the country, or who knew anything of it. But now perhaps a word is necessary about the district itself. Situated in the canton of Valais, it lies in the most mountainous part of Switzerland. The Borgne and the Navisanche, flowing through "Bon soir," replied monsieur le guide, and its two principal valleys, carry down to the being attired in a black coat he advanced Rhone part of the drainage from the northern nearer to the table. But monsieur le por- side of the Pennine Alps. The first of these teur; who wore a common blouse, uttered his mountain streams is fed by the glaciers of Arolla "bon soir" humbly, and retired nearer to the and Ferpècle. It runs through the Val door. d'Hérens,-called the Eringer Thal by the "You want a guide and two porters to Germans, and falls into the Rhone by Sion, Evolena?" the ancient capital of the Valais. About ten "No. Two porters and two mules. What miles from this town, and on the same bank of would be the use of a guide ?" "Monsieur le guide et monsieur le porteur," he said. And with a very low bow he ushered these two gentlemen into our room, "Bon soir," from our party. Monsieur le guide slightly shrugged his shoulders, and looked at monsieur le porteur before answering. "Well, listen, sir," he said, and, in order to give greater weight to his arguments, came nearer still to the table. And then began that kind of bargaining so common in Switzerland. He wanted to persuade us-which of course we would not believe that a guide was necessary as well as the two porters. Failing in this, he came next to money matters. "Well, perhaps a guide may not be so requisite; but if you take my advice," with a little wave of the hand, "you would certainly have one. About the porters, you will give them He hesitated for a moment, and we, knowing the proper tariff, waited to hear what he would say. Then, seeing that we expected him to speak, he, with the greatest coolness, named a sum very nearly double that appointed by the proper authorities. On this question consequently we were also forced to disagree with him; and finally, after numerous shrugs aud grimaces on his side, it was agreed that for forty-eight francs two men and two mules should be at the Hôtel by eight o'clock the next morning to go with us to Evolena. We intended to make that village our first resting place on our visit to the district. Knowing that that part of Switzerland was very little frequented, we had, before leaving England, gathered all the possible information from the various guide-books. But these did not give - the Rhone, is Sierre or Siders; and opposite to Sierre is the mouth of the Navisanche, which is the opening of the Val d'Anniviers, or the Einfisch Thal. Still farther along the Rhone, by Turtman, is the entrance of the Turtman Thal. This valley is also in the Evolena district, but is smaller than either the Val d'Hérens or the Val d'Anniviers. And Mr. Ball, in his guide to the Western Alps, mentions two other small valleys: "One at Reschy, about five miles S. W. of Sierre; the other is that formed by the Mühlebach, which crosses the high road of the Simplon about half way between Turtman and Visp." These five valleys, together with the Val d'Hérémence, form the Evolena district; and though they present some of the grandest views in Switzerland, they are very seldom visited. There was the ordinary number of loungers lolling against the pillars, and smoking under the portico of the Lion d'Or, when we were waiting for the mules in the morning; and these, on seeing our party, ran away to fetch their friends, so that a considerable crowd was collected round us by the time we were ready to start; and with a woman's love for children, all those of the gentler sex clustered round the mule on which Fuff was seated. Doubtless they longed to kiss him, for he was a pretty child of three years old, with light hair and blue eyes. Yet, notwithstanding his age, this was his second visit to Switzerland. In 1863 he crossed the Col de St. Théodule from Zermatt to Breuil, and that too when the snow was thick, and the crevasses hidden. He is, I 1. 1 believe, the only child who has crossed that pass. Standing by the side of Fuff was his father, W., the prime minister and the chancellor of the exchequer of the party. Owing to a very remarkable hat which this gentleman wore, the bystanders eventually turned their attention from the son to the father, and criticised the latter rather severely. The hat that first attracted their notice was a large Panama straw, bound with black ribbon; it had a high crown, with a huge curly brim; the shape consequently was peculiar, and the colour, owing to a long acquaintance with both sun and wind, was very yellow. The rest of W.'s dress was very much after the fashion of the present day, with the exception of his gaiters. These were of brown holland," and self-made, and have been known on one or two occasions to supply the place of a towel after bathing. Perhaps, after all, the old Panama straw so lately abused was not the most peculiar hat among our party. Madame certainly wore one as ugly, if not uglier, than her husband's. This was of the mushroom shape, made of brown straw, and adorned by a single piece of brown ribbon. The crown was high, and the brim, though not curly, was very broad. But, out of respect for the lady's feelings, I must add, that this specimen of ugliness was for the mountains only; and also that a large waterproof bag, hanging by the side of Fuff's mule, contained " un petit chapeau tout comme il faut," as the shop-girl said, for swell occasions. Ease, not elegance," was the motto we adopted, and certainly, judging from all our boots, we practised what we preached. The largest among the large were those belonging to Fred, W.'s eldest son. And as though his boots were not sufficiently heavy, this fellow always carried, slung across his back, a large "candle-box," painted a bright green outside and a bright red inside, and on the strength of this box he professed to be very learned in ferns. Wee-Wee, a girl about twelve, who was on the second mule, a French nurse, and W.'s brother, called the Colt, made up the party. For this sobriquet I was indebted to Fred. As to whether this was or was not a respectful way of addressing his uncle I must leave the reader to decide; but before a too hasty judgment is formed, let me add, that the uncle is only twenty and the nephew is eighteen. The name itself was given to me as it was my first visit to Switzerland; the rest, with the exception of the French nurse, having been there two or three times before, represented themselves as regular old stagers at the work. Our party then consisted of seven, and added to which were the two men bargained for on the previous night. Monsieur le guide, in his black coat, was at the door to wish us bon voyage and to receive his bonnemain, which by-the-by he did not receive, and at not so doing expressed his disgust pretty plainly. The two mules we had hired were the only two, I believe, for hire în Sion. The first muleteer or guide, or porter (as he likes), was resplendent in a blue coat, bran new; the second muleteer (or whatever he likes) wore a pair of black trousers, shining with all their virgin gloss. Besides taking care of the mules, each of these men carried a moderate-sized carpet-bag; and being at the best of times, I should think, great cripples as regards their powers of walking, these bags were fairly too much for them. Before we reached Vexa village about ninety minutes from Sion we met the garçon from the inn at Evolena. He was accompanying a gentleman to the town, and as he intended returning with the mule in the afternoon, he promised to bring on my knapsack if I left it at the little inn at Vex. The road to the village where I was to rid myself of my little impedimenta was very steep, and wound round the slope of the mountain. From one corner the guides pointed out to us a hermitage on the other side of the valley. It was cut out of the solid rock. "The hermit," they said, was rich, and very hospitable to strangers." But, owing to the bags, that was all they could say, and they had even to stop to say that. And, to our surprise, when we left Vex, where I parted with my knapsack, they also appeared, eased of their burdens. "Well, but you must understand,” said W., "that you agreed to carry those bags from Sion to Evolena, and I don't intend to pay any extra person." "Of course not, sir," they answered with a grin,—they were both very good-natured,→ "we'll settle that. We would much sooner pay him than carry them ourselves." And so it seemed. Although dirt accumulated thickly round the black trousers, and the blue coat became woefully splashed, the bags no longer galled their shoulders, and their spirits rose accordingly. They talked freely to us, and smiled most approvingly at the songs and choruses sang for Fuff's amusement. Alpine Club. There is no inn or any accommodation for travellers, which rendered it impossible for a party like ours to explore the valley. Near to the picturesque bridge that crosses the stream we saw several conical mounds of earth, each capped with a boulder of rock. These the guides pointed out as the Pyramids. We had seen one very similar to them at St. Gervais. It is called there "la Cheminée des Fées," but it is much higher, and the stone much bigger than those in the Val d'Hérens. There were several little clusters of hamlets scattered along the valley, and in the midst of one of these we ate our luncheon by the village fountain. "I say," said the Colt, who was sitting on the washing-board put across the trough, "has anything been seen of the five?" people getting up early in the morning to be the more audible. Of this we afterwards had an undeniable example. The cooking at the inn was not so good. The meat we had was generally very hard, but with that exception, the Hôtel de la Dent Blanche is very good for a little mountain inn. There was staying at the house when we arrived one visitor,-a young French lady. This seemed a peculiar place for an unprotected female to be quartered in by herself, but subsequent information threw a true light upon the subject. There had been high words between her and her uncle, and he, polite gentleman, had gone away, and left her to get home in the best way she could. He was the traveller we met with the garçon in the morning, and his niece went after him the next day. She started before we were up, for we intended merely to take a stroll down the Combe d'Arolla. This is a name given to a part of Val d'Hérens. By Haudères, a little village about an hour above Evolena, the valley splits into two. The Combe d'Arolla through which the Borgne flows from the Glacier d'Arolla is the western branch. This is sepa rated from the other valley, through which the stream from the Ferpècle Glacier runs, by a lofty range collectively called Les Grandes Dents. The best way from the inn to the Combe is along the road, which is a very good one, to Haudères; and then the path crosses the Ferpècle torrent, and afterwards passes over to the left bank of the Borgne. In going we crossed the Borgne just above Evolena, So we broke up our encampment, and went but we returned the other way and found it steadily along till we reached Evolena. There was a party of that number, we had learned at Martigny, who intended going the same route as ourselves. And, on comparing dates with our informer, we found that they would start on very nearly the same day. For several reasons we were anxious to be ahead of this party. The inns in the district were small, and we were afraid when we reached Evolena of finding our friends, "the five," in possession of all the bed-rooms. "No party of that number has left Sion lately," said the guide in answer to our question. "All right then," shouted out W.; come on. If they are behind, don't let them overtake us." The village is situated on the right bank of the Borgne, at the foot of a little hill, about sixteen miles from Sion. It seemed to us to be very dirty; but the inn, which is on the farther side, was much better than we expected. It is a square house, two stories high, with the lower part built of stone. Mine host met us on the threshold, and bowed us into the salle-à-manger. He was very civil, but he scarcely looked like a maître d'hôtel. He had a habit, whenever he spoke, of raising his arms, like the toys that jerk out their limbs when held up in one hand and the string pulled with the other. As we were a large party and intended staying nearly a week, he took us en pension for six francs each a day. The interior of his inn was as clean as the outside promised. It has fourteen bed-rooms, and three of them contain double beds. The stairs and passages up to the first story are of stone; but, being at that time without any covering, they caused the house to look rather bare, and certainly caused the noise made by shorter. About an hour beyond Haudères is the chapel of St. Barthélemi, and near here the guide-books mention a very fine waterfall— Cascade des Ignos-of nearly 500 feet. This we did not find, as it is some distance from the ordinary path. Turning off to the right at the first hamlet past the chapel, an hour's walking is required to reach the foot of the cascade. In half an hour more the top may be gained. But this information we did not learn till our return to the inn. The scenery along the Combe is very grand. The path at first lies at a great height above the torrent, and then descends to its very bed. Mounting again it leads to the Chalets, or Mayens, d'Arolla, and these we reached in four hours' easy strolling. From the last of the Châlets we had a very fine view of Mont Collon, and of the Glacier d'Arolla. The mountain (12,264 feet) rises abruptly from the glacier, and presents an almost perpendicular wall of snow on the north side. On the south-west side of Mont Collon is the Col de Collon (10,264 feet), We had leading from Evolena to Prarayen. started too late to allow of any time for a walk on the glacier, so we stopped at the Châlets, and then strolled back to the inn. On our return we found "the five" in the salle-à-manger, but the house fortunately was large enough to accommodate us all. We made an earlier move the next morning, and leaving Wee-Wee, Fuff, and the nurse at the inn, as we had left them on the previous day, started on an excursion to the Sasseneire, with Jean Folloniere as guide. He was a pleasing looking, stout-built young fellow, entered as a guide in July 1864, but the commissionnaire who wrote his signalement, was, I think I may safely say, no physiognomist. The colour of Jean's hair and eyebrows was easily determined. His forehead, 66 un peu rond," might do; but who could distinguish a man from the description of a 66 nez ordinaire," and a "bouche moyenne." For ten minutes after leaving the inn we kept along the road to Haudères, and then turning sharply off to the left, followed some very steep zig-zags for the next half hour. The path then led through a cluster of hamlets, and afterwards up grassy slopes. In two hours we reached a large plateau, on which several huge masses of rock were lying, some heaped together in fantastic shapes, like old ruins ; and in an hour and a quarter more we arrived at the top of the Col de Torrent. It was just here, within a hundred yards from the cross, that the Hanoverian gentleman was shot in 1863. Baptiste Pater, a guide from Ayer, a little village in the Val d'Anniviers, was with him. We had Pater ourselves subsequently as guide in an excursion to the Zinal Glacier, and he told us of the murder in nearly these words: "We were going over the Col to Evolena, and soon after passing the top I saw a heap of stones that I had never noticed before. 'That's strange,' I said; 'I passed here ten days ago, and those stones, I'm positive, were not there then.' And almost before I had finished speaking a shot came from behind the heap, and, passing through the gentleman's body, struck me in the side. The blow knocked me down, but my companion walked on some thirty feet, and then, without a cry or a word, fell to the ground. As I lay there the man fired again, and the ball hitting my arm, broke it in two places. Seeing us both helpless, he came out quickly from behind the heap, and, going to the gentleman's side, rifled his pockets. He then came to me, unbuckled the knapsack, and turned all it contained out on to the path. "Here,' said he, 'you can have this,' offering me, with a laugh, some wine he found. I didn't care for it, and I refused it. "I shall never drink wine again,' I said. "Eh! why not?' "Because I shall die here. But promise me that you will not hide my body. My wife knows where I was going, and when I do not return, she will come and seek for me.' "Your wife! have you any little children?' “Yes, I have зix.' "I don't think you'll die,' he then said; and, stooping over me, he propped me up not unkindly against a stone. 'Bon jour!' and with a forced laugh and a nod he left me lying there. For some time, I expect, I was insensible, but afterwards feeling better I crawled to where the gentleman lay, and I saw immediately that he was dead. I could be of no use to him, so I went back slowly to the cross, and eventually managed to reach the cow châlets in the Val de Torrent. These are, as you know, about an hour from the top of the Col. Here I obtained assistance; the gentleman's body was fetched, and I was carried on a stretcher to my own home. two months I could not raise my head. wounds were bad, but the shock to my nerves was worse. And even now I never accept an offer that obliges me to cross the Col de Torrent. I have promised my wife not to do so, and I never do." For The Pater was forty-nine when this happened, and consequently it affected him more in both mind and body than it would have a younger man. An English gentleman, whom I afterwards met at Varallo, told me that he saw the murderer, handcuffed, walking between two gendarmes. Both the men were old, and the prisoner, afterwards seizing a favourable opportunity, sprang down a sloping bank; they fired after him, but missed him, and he escaped. He went directly to America, and no steps have been taken for his recapture. His old father and mother, both well known and respected in the valley, Jean said, had died broken hearted. The Hanoverian's tomb is in the Church at Evolena. Fred and I looked for it, but we did not find it. From the top of the Col de Torrent it took us an hour to reach the summit of the Sasseneire. We started along the ordinary path, but after proceding about two hundred yards we were forced to return to the Col. Some rocks had fallen, and rendered the track impassable. Jean then proposed that we should go along a steep slope of half-frozen shale, on the west side of the mountain. "Oh! I can't go along there," cried out M. when she saw it. "I know I can't. You three go with the guide, and I'll wait here till you return." 66 To find you frozen to death," answered |