the arête, and to gain some protection from the wind. After another 100 feet we came to a precipitous wall that appeared almost impossible, and which may have been the scene of Mr. Fitzgerald's accident. Not liking the look of it, we left the ridge and skirted round to the east face. Here we progressed well for a time, but eventually landed in a very nasty corner; fortunately we were absolutely protected from the wind. The rocks were solid, but steep, great vertical blocks affording little hand- or foot-hold, being covered with snow and sometimes a dangerous glaze of thin ice. We had to traverse across a precipitous face, and then climb a steep wall to get back to the arête.
It took us two hours to get out of this exceedingly unpleasant spot, and in the doing of it Graham displayed rock-craft that was little short of marvellous. With the very scantiest foot-hold he had to cling with one hand to the rocks, and with the other clear away the snow and ice from every foot- or hand-hold he proposed to make use of. Neither Thomson nor I was well placed enough to help him with the rope, so he had the additional knowledge that if he fell he would drag us all with him. Twice we nearly turned back in favour of the ridge, but the howling of the wind always turned the scale in favour of the present situation. When it came to my turn to climb the wall, I marvelled more than ever how our leader had got up it unassisted and with but one hand. It hung out sheer over the Muller Glacier, so that a falling stone dropped clear touched nothing for 6,000 feet. More than once I had to force myself to move, with every nerve on edge, for fear of a slip that might drag either of the guides from their precarious positions. More by a miracle than anything else we all arrived safely on the arête. We felt rather shaky from the long strain, so found a safe place and had something to eat and drink to put heart into us again.
Thick clouds were rolling over Tuckett's Col, and to
