A TRAMP ABROAD By Mark Twain

I want the credit of it, too.

3. Guides ARE necessary, for none but a native can read

those finger-boards.

4. The estimate of the elevation of the several localities

above sea-level is pretty correct–for Baedeker.

He only misses it about a hundred and eighty or ninety

thousand feet.

I found my arnica invaluable. My men were suffering

excruciatingly, from the friction of sitting down so much.

During two or three days, not one of them was able to do

more than lie down or walk about; yet so effective was

the arnica, that on the fourth all were able to sit up.

I consider that, more than to anything else, I owe the

success of our great undertaking to arnica and paregoric.

My men are being restored to health and strength,

my main perplexity, now, was how to get them down

the mountain again. I was not willing to expose the

brave fellows to the perils, fatigues, and hardships

of that fearful route again if it could be helped.

First I thought of balloons; but, of course, I had to

give that idea up, for balloons were not procurable.

I thought of several other expedients, but upon

consideration discarded them, for cause. But at last

I hit it. I was aware that the movement of glaciers

is an established fact, for I had read it in Baedeker;

so I resolved to take passage for Zermatt on the great

Gorner Glacier.

Very good. The next thing was, how to get down the

glacier comfortably–for the mule-road to it was long,

and winding, and wearisome. I set my mind at work,

and soon thought out a plan. One looks straight down

upon the vast frozen river called the Gorner Glacier,

from the Gorner Grat, a sheer precipice twelve hundred

feet high. We had one hundred and fifty-four umbrellas–

and what is an umbrella but a parachute?

I mentioned this noble idea to Harris, with enthusiasm,

and was about to order the Expedition to form on the

Gorner Grat, with their umbrellas, and prepare for

flight by platoons, each platoon in command of a guide,

when Harris stopped me and urged me not to be too hasty.

He asked me if this method of descending the Alps had

ever been tried before. I said no, I had not heard

of an instance. Then, in his opinion, it was a matter

of considerable gravity; in his opinion it would not be

well to send the whole command over the cliff at once;

a better way would be to send down a single individual,

first, and see how he fared.

I saw the wisdom in this idea instantly. I said as much,

and thanked my agent cordially, and told him to take

his umbrella and try the thing right away, and wave

his hat when he got down, if he struck in a soft place,

and then I would ship the rest right along.

Harris was greatly touched with this mark of confidence,

and said so, in a voice that had a perceptible tremble in it;

but at the same time he said he did not feel himself worthy

of so conspicuous a favor; that it might cause jealousy

in the command, for there were plenty who would not hesitate

to say he had used underhanded means to get the appointment,

whereas his conscience would bear him witness that he

had not sought it at all, nor even, in his secret heart,

desired it.

I said these words did him extreme credit, but that he must not

throw away the imperishable distinction of being the first man

to descend an Alp per parachute, simply to save the feelings

of some envious underlings. No, I said, he MUST accept

the appointment–it was no longer an invitation, it was a

command.

He thanked me with effusion, and said that putting

the thing in this form removed every objection.

He retired, and soon returned with his umbrella, his eye

flaming with gratitude and his cheeks pallid with joy.

Just then the head guide passed along. Harris’s expression

changed to one of infinite tenderness, and he said:

“That man did me a cruel injury four days ago, and I