route down the western face. After leaving our friends, Graham, Thomson, and I made all speed for the bivouac, which is situated at the foot of the first snow slope on the ridge to the left of the Stocking Glacier. It is an easy climb of three hours from the Hermitage. After a meal and an hour's rest there, the guides set off to kick steps while the snow was soft, and to find a route through the crevasses of the Huddleston Glacier.
I watched till they were out of sight and then tried quite fruitlessly to go to sleep. Soon, tiring of inaction I walked over to the great isolated boulder with a narrow cleft in its north face; this cleft widens to a tiny cave which was the scene of Zurbriggen's and Fitzgerald's many uncomfortable bivouacs. I looked carefully but in vain for any trace of them, and speculated as to how far our experiences would compare with theirs on the coming climb.
Suddenly a resounding roar broke in upon my meditations; starting up I saw a tremendous avalanche which had broken away above the Huddleston Glacier. It was rushing down sweeping everything before it. Sick at heart I watched it, knowing my guides were somewhere near the danger zone, and praying all was well with them. Too disturbed and anxious to keep still, I wandered about, scanning the snow slopes on which they should appear. After an interminable hour of waiting, I heard a distant shout, and saw them on the slopes above me. Greatly relieved, I watched them enjoy a splendid glissade, and in twenty minutes they were safely home again. On questioning them I found they had gone through the worst of the broken ice and were practically sure of to-morrow's route. The avalanche that had so disturbed me had passed well to the left of their route, so had not affected them.
After our evening meal was over and everything required in the morning put in a convenient spot, we crawled into
