crossing crevasses in a manner to thrill an excitement-loving public. At last the photographic instinct was appeased and we were allowed to take our belated way towards the Haast bivouac.
Instead of striking across for the Tasman Glacier, we followed along close beneath the Hochstetter icefall. Avalanche after avalanche shot over the scarred rock on its left-hand side, the only dark spot in all this wonderful hanging glacier, whose 3,000 feet of jagged white pinnacle, riven with crevasses and caverns of vivid colour, make a wonderful foreground for the smooth summit of Mount Tasman, which is outlined sharply against the skyline 5,000 ft. above them.
Crossing to the right-hand side of the Hochstetter, we began to scramble up the steep bank of moraine leading to the Haast ridge. This was no easy task; the soft shaly sides kept slipping away beneath our feet and tottering rocks came tumbling down, apparently desiring nothing better than to annihilate us on the spot. At last we reached the top of the moraine and scrambled on to the ridge above. Here we threw ourselves down on a great flat boulder to cool off before we attacked the 3,000 feet of rock ridge between us and the Haast bivouac. When thoroughly rested we set off again and climbed steadily up the steep arête for hour after hour. The sun beat down upon us and we found the ascent tedious, but nowhere particularly difficult, and at half-past three we arrived at our destination. The site is a tiny plateau sheltered by a great overhanging rock. Here, in 1882, the Rev. S. Green and his Swiss guides made their last bivouac for Mount Cook and began the good work of building up the little plateau, to which a succession of mountaineers have added year by year, till now it is large enough to pitch a tent upon with comfort. It is sheltered on its north side by a protecting wall about 2 feet high. Here, too, Fitzgerald and Zurbriggen spent many a cold, wet and uncomfortable night while they awaited their chance to
