An old story comes to mind. It was high in the Alps, in the middle of the night. A fierce winter storm was raging over the glacier, thick snowflakes were blown about and visibility was so low that the pair of mountaineers who were drudging through the knee deep snow could barely see their hands grasping the poles on which they leaned heavily. They guessed more than they knew the way and when a small light flickered in the white darkness of the snowstorm they made for it up the slope. They came to an old, wooden hut, a shelter for herdsmen in summer and the occasional mountain climbers and skiers in winter. With their last strength they knocked on the door, their limbs all but frozen. The old, weatherbeaten hutkeeper who opened the door saw their plight, and let them in without asking. He led them to the tiled oven where other alpinists were assembled waiting out the storm in the warmth. The two stammered: “We lost our way after we lost our guide. … We lost our guide. In the storm!” “How? What happened? Tell us …” the others besieged them. “The guide slipped … and then fell into the crevasse … out on the glacier … we don’t know how deep … the wind howled too loud to hear …” The pair were too exhausted to show them were the gruesome accident had taken place. But they were regaled with food and drink and when they were refreshed and warmed up, the men in the hut rose up and put on their kit. Storm or no, they would not abandon a fellow climber, a mountain guide at that, to his fate. They roped each other together and the stronger one of the two led them out into the dark night towards the glacier to show them the spot of the accident. They fought against the wind and finally found the fateful crevasse again. The beams of their torches explored the gap were the guide had fallen into the unknown depth. “We have to call, to see if he is still alive,” the men said and asked: “What was his name?” “It was the Guide to the Alps, by Luis Trencker, Füssli Verlag, second edition …”

The Ragtag Daily Prompt: Guide