this season, at four in the afternoon the day should be finished or nearly so. Yet today at this hour received a phone call informing us that a railroad accident in those parts of Refuge Berti. A person who has fallen.
not much time left when the ephemeris is less than one hour. We left, we took a Gino Campolongo and fled to the refuge Berti, up the gravel and started to search. What to look for one in such cases? First, the person who called which in theory should signals to be visible, then try to move the signs of fall. Spots, there was a snowfield and then slipping wheels, look at the base of gullies in search of that color foreign to the mountain for better or worse lying on a stone on stone, still down. None of this, then speed away on the railway station and then call in and they give you some details discovered in the meantime and then over the crest of runway because it was coming down from there and turn, climb, descend and move winking eyes on those stones. Then the general indications become clear. The voice of one hour talks and tells you, there, I saw it on the fork, you see a coiled rope and something else. Then you realize that you found and while Gino landings on gravel you see a dog running madly back and forth on a ledge just above the gravel runs and runs and never stops and does not go to Gino.
Then walk over there because the person who called to check and still have not found and started to get dark. Not the dark valley of no, the dark high altitude that if you look west dopotramonto becomes a beautiful red and purple in the east but is already very dark purple. No time to watch it because you are there to fly in the face of the ledges, watching trenches when the panel tells you that the woman who called, the wife of the guy fell, the refuge has already Lunelli, down, safe. And then away again to leave on the scree anche Paolo che dia una mano a Gino ed invece mentre sei lì in hovering dentro questo piccolo anfiteatro che diventa scuro e nel quale ci sono un infinità di resti di casermette della prima guerra mondiale, mentre sei lì concentrato vedi Gino vicino a quel mucchio che sembrava essere il caduto che ci fa gesti ed indica l'altra parte della montagna, dopo la forcelletta minuscola, indica giù, da quella parte.
Paolo è sceso, via su di nuovo, di corsa dietro lo spigolo a vedere l'altro versante. Dalla forcelletta, dove Gino ci guarda e cerca di scendere, ...... una linea. C'è una linea, di sangue, stretta, poi si interrompe, tu la immagini la segui dove non la vedi e poi ricompare, più grossa su di un sasso, poi sparisce and reappears in the rock below, and then becomes solid line in the small gravel, then there is a stone disappears and a new stain on the stone to the right and then, in the light of the lighthouse, inside what looks like a hole formed by a huge stone in the narrow throat, a twinkle. And at that glint of technical things which must be belongs to the body of the poor are looking for. And 'there. The legs that come from that kind of hole, is on his stomach with the upper body stuck in that hole as if looking for something. On the right side we see a bloody hand. Any hope falls. Paul wants to get there to make sure he is dead but when he realizes how low it is compared to the pass and what should be rock hopping give up. We'll take tomorrow.
The dog, where it will be. Gino and I ask Paul to take it if they can. We are on the edge of the ephemeris, asks me what to do and I tell him that the dog is still a living thing and that if they want to grant him five minutes. Then Gino runs and I think he did everything to take a meter but the dog escapes and now it is late, the light becomes light and the distances become difficult to estimate.
I'm going to board, back in bed. Paul told me that as they got the dog was crying at the edge of scree. Fermo.
are now nine and a half, that will make that dog, he'll be doing? I can not think about it. If you try to follow the bloodline of his master dies, if it remains stationary, perhaps curled make it.
tomorrow morning I hope with all my heart to find it and you do take, even with cold or hunger. I'll bring a packet of biscuits to Homer, who knows, let save.
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