To Ellen Lubbock   Friday 18th Aug. 1864

Pontresina¹ Friday 18^th Aug. 1864

My dear M^rs. Lubbock

Your note to Hirst caused me rather to blame myself for letting you know anything about that avalanche adventure;² for I did not want to add an iota to your anxiety. I will now tell you the termination of the adventure, and with it my notes will end, for tomorrow I shall be on my way to Zürich to join the meeting of the Naturforscher,³ who assemble there on the 22^nd. I shall remain at Zürich three days, then start for Paris, where I remain a day—thence to London which I hope to reach by the 28^th or 29^th. Soon afterwards I hope to have the happiness of seeing you all in the enjoyment of health and strength.

Well, regarding the avalanche, I told you I had lost my watch. It might have been jerked into a crevasse, but it might also be covered up in the snow, and if in the snow the action of the sun might by melting the snow bring it to the surface. It would also be possible to root in the snow in search of it. Well I went to Santa Catarina,⁴ leaving my poor little ticker in the cold snow. The day before yesterday an expedition was organized to seek the watch. Some very agreeable people were staying here, among the number M^r. North,⁵ an exceedingly pleasant old gentleman of 64, member I believe for Hastings. He was one of the party. There were four other gentleman & two guides. We got into difficulty upon the Morteratsch galcier;⁶ were often hemmed in by apparently impracticable crevasses & had to cross places which must have rather terrified the unpractised members of our party. Still all went happily and we reached the side of the glacier in safety. From this spot we had to ascend to a higher and smaller glacier which was the scene of the accident. Leaving three of our party who were tired upon the mountain side, three others accompanied by the two guides continued the ascent. It was very rough, but we finally reached the snow, roped together and while doing so were shown what might become of us had we not been able to arrest our motion downwards. A huge stone, many tons weight detached itself from its resting place on the upper snows and rolled swiftly down the slope along which we had hidden. Its velocity accelerated until it began to take huge bounds through the air, and when it reached the hole near which we pulled up it flew with violence down to the lower glacier and was finally swallowed in a chasm.

Well we crossed the slope, and found a bit of rope which informed us that we had hit the exact line of our glissade: one guide went up the slope, a second one went down, examining the surface. I did not wish to quit my two companions so remained with them and left the hunt to the guides. I had but poor hope of success, still I thought we ought to make the efforts. We had not been 20 minutes there when a choir & a wave of the hat from the higher guide announced that the watch was found. The sun had done its duty & melted it out. I thought it would have been spoiled as it has lain there for nearly three weeks. It pointed to half past 5. I remembered that this was about the hour at which it stopped where I forgot to wind it up at home. I wound it up & found that I had to turn the key the full number of time that indicated running down. The little creature had continued to beat underneath the snow, and now when wound up to my great delight commenced ticking as if nothing had happened to it.⁷ It is now ticking in my pocket. I have put it in an inner pocket, near my heart so that its present warmth may make amends for the tremendous cold it must have endured. Love to John⁸ & love to the children.⁹

Yours ever | <John Tyndall>

BL Add MS 63092, ff. 212–3