Chapter 3 THE LOWER GLACIèRE OF THE PRé DE S. LIVRES.

I had intended to walk on from S. Georges to Bière, after returning from the glacière last described, and thence, the next morning, to the Pré de S. Livres, the mountain pasturage of the commune of S. Livres,[18] a village near Aubonne. But Renaud advised a change of plan, and the result showed that his advice was good. He said that the fermier of the Glacière of S. Livres generally lived in S. Georges, and, if he were at home, would be the best guide to the glacière; while the distance from S.

Georges was, if anything, rather less than the distance from Bière; so that by remaining at the Cavalier for another night the walk to Bière would be saved, and the possibility of finding no competent guide there would be evaded. Jules Mignot, the farmer in question, was at home, and promised to go to the glacière in the morning, pledging his word and all that he was worth for the existence and soundness of the ladders; a matter of considerable importance, for M. Thury had been unable to reach the ice, as also my sisters, by reason of a failure in this respect.

In the course of the evening Mignot came in, and confidentially took the other chair. He wished to state that he had three associés in working the glacière, and that one of them knew of a similar cave, half an hour from the one more generally known; the associé had found it two years before, and had not seen it since, and he believed that no one else knew where it was to be found. If I cared to visit it, the associé would accompany us, but there was some particular reason--here he relapsed into patois--why this other man could not by himself serve as guide to both glacières. As this meant that I must have two guides, and suggested that perhaps the right rendering of associé was 'accomplice,' the negotiation nearly came to a violent end; but the farmer was so extremely explanatory and convincing, that I gave him another chance, asking him how much the two meant to have, and telling him that, although I could not see the necessity for two guides, I only wished to do what was right. He expressed his conviction of the truth of this statement with such fervour, that I could only hope his moderation might be as great as his faith. He took the usual five minutes to make up his mind what to say, going through abstruse calculations with a brow demonstratively bent, and, to all appearance, reckoning up exactly what was the least it could be done for, consistently with his duty to himself and his family. Then he asked, with an air of resignation, as if he were throwing himself and his associé away, 'Fifteen francs, then, would monsieur consider too much?' 'Certainly, far too much; twelve francs would be enormous. But, for the pleasure of his company and that of his friend, I should be happy to give that sum for the two, and they must feed themselves.' He jumped at the offer, with an alacrity which showed that I had much under-estimated his margin in putting it at three francs; and with many expressions of anticipatory gratitude, and promises of axes and ropes in case of emergency, he bowed himself out. The event proved that both the men were really valuable, and they got something over the six francs a-piece.

The rain had been steadily increasing in intensity for the last twenty-four hours, from the insidious steeping of a Scotch mist to the violence of a chronic thunderstorm, and had about reached this crisis when we started in the morning for the Pré de S. Livres. I had already tested its effects before breakfast, in a search for the Renaud of the day before, who had made statements regarding the ice at S. Georges, and the time of cutting it, which a night's reflection showed to be false. To search for Henri Renaud in the village of S. Georges, was something like making an enquiry of a certain porter for the rooms of Mr. John Jones. The landlady of the Cavalier was responsible for the first stage of the journey, asserting that he lived two doors beyond the next auberge, evidently with a feeling that it was wrong so far to patronise the rival house as to live near it. That, however, was not the same Henri Renaud; and a house a few yards off was recommended as a likely place, where, instead of Henri, a Louis Renaud turned up, shivering under the eaves in company with the fermier, who introduced Louis in due form as the accomplice. They received conjointly and submissively a lecture on the absurdity of calling it a rainy morning, and the impossibility of staying at home, even if it came on much worse, and then pointed the way to the true Henri Renaud, half-way down the village. When I arrived at the place indicated, and consulted a promiscuous Swiss as to the abode of the object of my search, he exclaimed, 'Henri Renaud? I am he.' 'But,' it was objected, 'it is the marchand de bois who is wanted.' 'Precisely, Henri Renaud, marchand de bois; it is I.' 'But, it is the cutter of ice in the glacière.' 'Ah, a different Henri. That Henri is in bed in the house yonder,' and so at last he was found. When finally unearthed, Henri confessed that when he had said spring the day before, he ought to have said autumn, and that by autumn he meant November and December. Enquiries elsewhere showed that the end of summer was what he really meant, if he meant to tell the truth.

Our route for the glacière followed the high road which leads by the Asile de Marchairuz to La Vallée, as far as the well-known Chalet de la S. Georges; and then the character of the way changed rapidly for the worse, and we took to the wet woods. After a time, the wood ceased for a while, and a large expanse of smooth rock showed itself, rising slightly from the horizontal, and so slippery in its present wet condition that we could not pass up it. Then woods again, and then the montagnes of Sous la Roche, and La Foireuse, till at last, in two hours, the Pré de S. Livres was achieved. The fog was so dense that nothing could be seen of the general lie of the country; but the thalweg was a sufficient guide, and after due perseverance we came upon the glacière, not many yards from that line, on the north slope of the open valley, about 4,500 feet above the sea.

To prevent cattle from falling into the pit, a wall has been built round the trees in which it lies. The circumference of this wall is 435 feet, but there are so many trees at the upper end of the enclosure that this gives an exaggerated idea of the size of the pit. The men fed while the preliminary measurements were being made; and when this was accomplished, they pressed their bottle of wine upon me so hospitably that I was obliged to antedate the result which its appearance promised, and plead mal d'estomac. Of all things, it is most unwise to give a reason for a negative, and so it proved in this instance; for they promptly felicitated themselves and me on the good luck by which it happened that they had brought a wine famous on all the c?te as a remedy for that somewhat vague complaint--a homoeopathic remedy in allopathic doses.

The glacière is entered by a natural pit in the gentle slope of grass, not much unlike the pit of La Genollière, but wider, and covered at the bottom with snow.[19] The first ladder leads down to a ledge of rock on which bushes and trees grow, and this ledge it is possible to reach without a ladder; the next ladder leads on to the deep snow, and descent by any ordinary manner of climbing is in this case quite impossible.[20] The snow slopes down towards a lofty arch in the rock which forms the north-west side of the pit, and this arch is the entrance to the glacière; it is 28-3/4 feet wide, and as soon as we passed under it we found that the snow became ice, and it was necessary to cut steps; for the surface of underground ice is so slippery, unlike the surface of ordinary glaciers, that the slightest defect from the horizontal makes the use of the axe advisable. The stream of ice falls gradually, spreading out laterally like a fan, so as to accommodate itself to the shape of the cave, which it fills up to the side walls; it increases in breadth from 28-3/4 feet at the top to 72 feet at the bottom of the slope, and the distance from the top of the first ladder to this point is 177 feet. Here we were arrested by a strange wall of ice 22 feet high, down which there seemed at first no means of passing; but finding an old ladder frozen into a part of the wall, we chopped out holes between the upper steps, and so descended, landing on a flooring composed of broken blocks and columns of ice, with a certain amount of what seemed to be drifted snow. This wall of ice, which was 72 feet long and 22 feet high, was not vertical, but sloped the wrong way, caving in under the stream of ice; and from the projecting top of the wall a long fringe of vast icicles hung down, along the whole breadth of the fan. The effect of this was, that we could walk between the ice-wall and the icicles as in a cloister, with solid ice on the one hand and Gothic arcades of ice on the other, the floor being likewise of ice, and the roof formed by the junction of the wall with the top of the icicle-arcade. The floor of this cloister was not 22 feet below the top of the wall, for it formed the upper part of a gentle descending slope of ice, rounded off like a fall of water, which seemed to flow from the lower part of the wall; and the height of 22 feet is reckoned from the foot of this slope, which terminated at a few feet of horizontal distance from the foot of the wall. The wall of ice was plainly marked with horizontal bands, corresponding, no doubt, to a number of years of successive deposits; sometimes a few leaves, but more generally a strip of minuter débris, signified the divisions between the annual layers. There had been many columns of ice from fissures in the rock, but all had fallen except one large ice-cascade, which flowed from a hole in the side of the cave on to the main stream, about two-thirds of the distance down from the snow. One particularly grand column had stood on the very edge of the ice-wall, and its remains now lay below.

The flooring of mingled ice and snow, on which we stood, sloped through about five vertical feet from the foot of the wall, and came to an end on broken rocks, from which the terminal wall of the cave sprang up. The effect of the view from this point, as we looked up the long slope of ice to where the ladders and a small piece of sky were visible, was most striking. The accompanying engraving is from a sketch which attempts to represent it; the reality is much less prim, and much more full of beautiful detail, but still the engraving gives a fair idea of the general appearance of the cave.

While I was occupied in making sketches and measurements, Mignot was engaged in chopping discontentedly at the floor, in two or three different places. At length he seemed to find a place to his mind, and chopped perseveringly till his axe went through, and then he suggested that we should follow. The hole was not tempting. It opened into the blackest possible darkness, and Mignot thrust his legs through, feeling for a foothold, which, by lowering himself almost to his armpits, he soon discovered: the foothold, however, proved to be a loose stone, which gave way under him and bounded down, apparently over an incline of like stones, to a distance which sounded very alarming. But he would not give in, and at length, descending still further by means of the snow in which the hole was made, he was rewarded by finding a solid block which bore his weight, and he speedily disappeared altogether, summoning me to follow. I proposed to light a candle first, not caring to go through such a hole, in such a floor, into no one knew what; but he was so very peremptory, evidently thinking that if he had gone through without a pioneering candle his monsieur might do the same, that there was nothing for it but to obey. The hole was very near the junction of the floor with the slope of stones where the floor terminated, and the space between the hole and the slope seemed to be filled up with a confused mass of snow and ice, in which the snow largely predominated; so that there was good hold for hands and feet in passing down to the stones, which might be about 7 feet below the upper surface of the floor.

LOWER GLACIèRE OF THE PRé DE S. LIVRES.

Here we crouched in the darkness, with our faces turned away from the presumed slope of stones, till a light was struck. The accomplice did not find it in the bond that he should go down, and he preferred to reserve his energies for his own peculiar glacière.

As soon as the candle had mastered a portion of the darkness, we found that we were squatting on a steeply sloping descent of large blocks of stone, while in face of us was a magnificent wall of ice, evidently the continuation of the wall above, marked most plainly with horizontal lines. This wall passed down vertically to join the slope on which we were, at a depth below our feet which the light of the candle had not yet fathomed. The horizontal bands were so clear, that, if we had possessed climbing apparatus, we could have counted the number of layers with accuracy. Of course we scrambled down the stones, and found after a time that the angle formed by the ice-wall and the slope of stones was choked up at the bottom by large pieces of rock, one piled on another just as they had fallen from the higher parts. These blocks were so large, that we were able to get down among the interstices, in a spiral manner, for some little distance; and when we were finally stopped, still the ice-wall passed on below our feet, and there was no possible chance of determining to what depth it went. The atmosphere at this point was a sort of frozen vapour, most unpleasant in all respects, and the candles burned very dimly. The thermometer stood at 32°, half-way down the slope of stones.

We were able to stretch a string in a straight line from the lowest point we reached, through the interstices of the blocks of stone, and up to the entrance-hole, and this measurement gave 50 feet. Considering the inclination of the upper ice-floor, and the sharpness of the angle between the wall of ice and the line of our descent to this lowest point, I believe that 50 feet will fairly represent the height of the ice-wall from this point to the foot of the slope from the upper wall; so that 72 feet will be the whole depth of ice, from the top of the third ladder to the point where our further progress downwards was arrested. The correctness of this calculation depends upon the honesty of Mignot, who had charge of the farther end of the string, and was proud of the wonders of his cave.

SECTION OF THE LOWER GLACIèRE OF THE PRé DE S. LIVRES.

A dishonest man might easily, under the circumstances, have pulled up a few feet more of string than was necessary, but 50 feet seemed in no way an improbable result of the measurement.

The ice was as solid and firm as can well be conceived. The horizontal bands would seem to prove conclusively that it was no coating of greater or less thickness on the face of a vertical wall of rock, an idea which might suggest itself to anyone who had not seen it, and I think it probable that the amount of ice represented in the section of the cave is not an exaggeration. We were unable to measure the whole length of the wall in the lower cave, from the large number of blocks of stone which had fallen at one end, and lay against its face. Probably, from the nature of the case, it was not so long as the 72 feet of wall above; but we measured 50 feet, and could see it still passing on to the right hand as we faced it. In trying to penetrate farther along the face, I found a wing of the brown fly we had seen in considerable abundance on the ice in La Genollière, frozen into the remains of a column.

There was so very much to be observed on all sides, and the measurements took up so much time, owing to the peculiar difficulties which attended them, that I did not examine with sufficient care the curious floor of ice through which we cut our way to the lower cavern. Neither did I notice the roof of the cavern thus reached, which may be very different from the shape of the upper surface of the floor composing it. If the ice-wall goes straight up, and the roof is formed of the ice-floor alone, then it is a very remarkable feature indeed. But, more probably, the lower wall leans over more and more towards the top, and so forms as it were a part of the roof. It is possible that, as the wall has grown, each successive annual layer has projected farther and farther, till at last some year very favourable to the increase of ice has carried the projection for that year nearly to the opposite stones, and then an unfavourable year or two would form the foot of the upper wall. This seems more probable, from the loose constitution of the floor at the point where it joins the stones, as if it were there only made up of drift and débris, while the part of the floor nearer the foot of the wall is solid ice. It has been suggested to me that possibly water accumulates in the time of greatest thaw to a very large extent in the lower parts of the cave, and the ice-floor is formed where the frost first takes hold of this water. But the slope of the ice-floor is against this theory, to a certain extent; and the amount of water necessary to fill the cavity would be so enormous, that it is contrary to all experience to imagine such a collection, especially as the cave showed no signs of present thaw. The appearance of the rocks, too, in the lower cave, and the surface of the ice-wall there, gave no indications of the action of water; and there was no trace of ice among the stones, as there certainly would have been if water had filled the cave, and gradually retired before the attacks of frost, or in consequence of the opening up of drainage. There were pieces of the trunks of trees, also, and large bones, lying about at different levels on the rocks. I never searched for bones in these caves, owing to the absence of the stalagmitic covering which preserves cavern-bones from decay; nor did I take any notice of such as presented themselves without search, for the bergers are in the habit of throwing the carcases of deceased cows into any deep hole in the neighbourhood of the place where the carcases may be found, in consequence of the general belief that living cows go mad if they find the grave of a companion; so that I should probably have made a laborious collection of the bones of the bos domesticus.

This belief of the bergers respecting the cows is supported by several circumstantial and apparently trustworthy accounts of fearful fights among herds of cattle over the grave of some of the herd. The sight of a companion's blood is said to have a similar effect upon them. Thus a small pasturage between Anzeindaz and the Col de Cheville, on the border of the cantons Vaud and Valais, is still called Boulaire from legendary times, when the herdsmen of Vaud (then Berne) won back from certain Valaisan thieves the cattle the latter were carrying off from La Varraz. Some of the cows were wounded in the battle, and the sight of their blood drove the others mad, so that they fought till almost all the herd was destroyed; whence the name Boulaire, from ébou?ler, to disembowel,--a word formed from bou?, the patois for boyau.

When we left the lower darkness and ascended to the floor of ice once more, Mignot expressed a desire to see my attempt at a sketch of the glacière from that point, as he had been much struck during his negotiatory visit of the night before by the sketch of the entrance to the Glacière of S. Georges, chiefly because he had guessed what it was meant for. He was evidently disappointed with the representation of his own cave, for he could see nothing but a network of lines, with unintelligible words written here and there, and after some hesitation he confessed that it was not the least like it. A little explanation soon set that right, and then he began to plead vigorously for the wall which surrounded the trees at the mouth of the pit. Why was it not put in? He was told, because it could not be seen from below; but nevertheless he strongly urged its introduction, on the ground that he had built it himself, and it was such a well-built wall; facts which far more than balanced any little impossibility that might otherwise have prevented its appearance. After we had reached the grass of the outer world again, he made me sketch the entrance to the pit, pointing to the containing wall with parental pride, and standing over the sketch-book and the sketcher with an umbrella which speedily turned inside out under the combined pressure of wind, and rain, and years; a feat which it had already performed des fois, he said, in the course of his acquaintance with it.

Before finally leaving the glacière, I examined the structure of the great stream of ice, at different points near the top of the limiting wall. From its outward appearance it might have been expected to be rough, but it was not so; it was knotty to the eye, but perfectly smooth to the foot, and, when cut, showed itself perfectly clear and limpid. It did not separate under the axe into misshapen pieces, with faces of every possible variation from regularity, that is, with what is called vitreous fracture, but rather separated into a number of nuts of limpid ice, each being of a prismatic form, and of much regularity in shape and size. It was smooth, dark-grey, and clear; free from air, and free from surface lines; very hard, and suggesting the idea of coarse internal granulation. In the large ice-streams of some darker glacières, this ice assumed a rather lighter colour by candle-light, but always presented the same granular appearance, and cut up into the same prismatic nuts, and was evidently free from constitutional opacity.

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