STRUGGLE IN SNOW

Greymouth Evening Star, 30 November 1929, Page 4

STRUGGLE IN SNOW

DEATHS ON MONT BLANC

A tragic story of how two Frenchment lost their lives on Mount Blanc one Sunday'recently, in a desperate bid to reach shelter from a f blizzard, is told by their guide, Coutet, in a Paris paper. M. San ton (an architect . of Aix-les Bains) with M. Jaurier (an intelligence officer with the Rhine army) were met by a blizzard while coming down the mountain with their guide. Further descent was impossible. They decided to climb back to the Vallot shelter on the summit.

“When we were getting near there —three-quarters of an hour away,” the guide said, “M. Santon lay down in the. snow. It took all my strength to get him up. He collapsed again. I poured some brandy between his lips, and gave him something to eat, telling'him to rest a little. After a quarter of an hour we started off again, but again. M. Santon fell. For a brief moment he struggled in the snow,, and 'then lay back dead. I stuck his alpenstock into the snow and tied the body to it, and we hade him a last farewell. “M. Jaurier and I resumed our fight, but soon after we had got to the Arrete des Bosses he showed signs of collapsing, and I had to drag him through the snow. Twice he rolled to the edge of the precipice on the Italian side, and I just managed to hold him back. He kept on groaning. When we reached the Rocher de la Tdurmette, he let go his alpenstock and gloves, and began to slip down the icy slope on the Italian side. Once again I managed to,hold him. I fixed the rope firmly to my alpenstock and went down aftbr him. I -was able to drag him up a bit, and place him in a less dangerous and more sheltered place./ But I then found, to my horror, that he too was dead. I left his body tied by the rope to an alpenstock. When Coutet found himself alone, the storm was raging worse than ever. He had despaired of reaching the refuge, and the furious wind -hurled stinging blasts of frozen snow in his face till he had to make his way backwards. He could scarcely see where he was going until he found himself surrounded by precipices. A brief lull enabled him to take his bearings. He was in a dangerous plight on the side of the Grande Bosse. Then, in a he caught a glimpse of the rock on which the refuge stands, and again everything became white.

Eventually ho crawled to the top of the Grande Bosse and over it, getting a hand-hold where he could to prevent the wind blowing him away. As night ell he reached the Vallot refuge, and lay down exhausted. i 1 ' ■