Miendalstind – The First and Second Ascents

By Aldred B. Todd.

Fierce glowed the light in Northern sky,
And angry clouds were rolling by,
When, out the glowering darkness came
A lank, lean spectre. It was lame,
And, as it Walked, its long grey beard
Was shaking with the fear it feared.
The cliffs around the place rang loud
With crashes of the thunder cloud.

No thought of failure in his mind –
Nor food – for this he could not find;
Here, on the mountain’s rugged side,
No blade of grass could well abide.
And, as he goes, he sees the top
Not twenty yards – he must not stop –
He makes one glorious, gallant strain,
And gains his goal amidst the rain.

‘Tis the same peak, but years have fled
Since that gaunt spectre up it sped.
Three hardy climbers strive to-day
To scale those jagged rocks so grey.
And as they mount the rugged towers
They cry “lt goes! The peak is ours.”
“It goes!” – (heart-cheering Alpine phrase) –
“Haste to the top, a cairn We’ll raise.”

“But what is that” – one cries aloud –
“Which gleams so white amidst the cloud?
“Can some poor reckless man have tried
“To gain the height, and there have died?”
Their soft felt hats they slowly raised
From off their heads; and as they gazed
They thought of this poor stranger’s fight,
And how he died in chilly night.

“See! There are horns! This was no man,”
And forward all three quickly ran.
“A goat!” they yell, with sorrow gone,
And laughing loud, their hats put on.
“This is no first ascent,” they cry.
At least not ours – we cannot lie.
This gallant climb, this noble fight,
Was first accomplish’d by en gjeit.