THE Adamello group is a conspicuous though distant feature in the panoramic view of snow-clad giants which greets us on reaching some lofty peak of the Pennine Alps in the neighbourhood of Zermatt. It rises like an island above a sea of lower mountains, almost untouched by snow—a vast tabular mass covered with glaciers, “a huge block,” to quote Mr. Douglas Freshfield's graphic description, “large enough to supply materials for half-a-dozen fine mountains. But it is, in fact, only one. For a length and breadth of many miles, the ground never falls below 9500 feet. The highest peaks (about 11,600 feet) … are merely slight elevations of the rim of this unlifted plain. … Imagine an enormous white cloth unevenly laid upon a table and its shining skirts hanging over here and there between the dark massive supports” (“The Italian Alps,” p. 202).