pride and thankfulness, as our eyes roved backwards over the great ridge we had spent the last six and a half hours in vanquishing. Very heartily we wrung one another's hands, and marvelled at our phenomenal luck in obtaining weather conditions which had enabled us to accomplish the greatest climb in New Zealand at the first attempt. Very happily we lay at ease on the summit, and putting all thoughts of the descent out of our minds, concerned ourselves only with the joy and triumph of the present.
We left the summit at three o'clock, and found, to our surprise, that we could kick down the first few hundred feet in soft snow. This proved a great saving in time and energy. The traverse leading to the eastern arête gave us two hours' step-cutting. This accomplished, we started carefully down the snow-covered rocks. All was going well when suddenly a great boulder leapt from the ridge above us, and, bounding harmlessly past Graham and myself, made straight for Thomson. Helpless and horrified, we watched its onslaught, powerless to do anything but give a warning shout, and brace ourselves for the coming strain. With a quick glance backwards Thomson grasped the situation, and with a wild leap evaded the danger by jumping on to a frozen snow slope on the left of the ridge. His feet shot from under him when he touched the slippery surface, and he sped down the steep slope. Fortunately I was ready and well placed, and was able to stop his wild career almost immediately, and bring him to a standstill with the rope. Soon we were all rather shakily congratulating ourselves on a tragedy averted. We proceeded onward with the utmost care, and soon reached the slopes leading to the Linda Glacier. We were all now beginning to feel thirsty, and looked about everywhere for some water, for we had no time to spare to melt snow and make tea. None was visible close at hand, but the guides said there was sure to be some dripping from the north-east face, where
