look-out for falling stones which kept rattling down from a couloir near by. As we proceeded, the mists rose and fell, giving most lovely glimpses of the Tasman Glacier and the surrounding mountains. We had a long, toilsome march up the glacier to the head névé, where we rested for a time before beginning the ascent. We followed Mr. Earle's route up the north-east buttress; the rocks are good, solid red blocks, with plenty of hand- and foot-hold, and afforded a splendid climb. Near the summit I nearly came to grief. I was tired, and it was taking me all my time to keep up with Graham, being somewhat out of training. I was so used to the rock being good—we had not met a bit of rotten stuff all the way—that I suppose I was careless. While Graham was above me I took what seemed a short cut, and the next moment a great block I was using for a hand-hold came away with me. As it fell it caught me just above the knee, fortunately missing the knee-cap, and knocked me backwards. As I felt it slipping I gave a shout of warning to Graham, and before I fell the full length of the slack between us he had me, and I was able to grab another hand-hold. Feeling considerably shaken, I hung where I was for a bit, and then climbed gingerly up to my guide. We were within a few yards of the summit, so went on almost immediately, Graham eyeing every hand- and foot-hold wrathfully. My knee was stiff and sore, and I was exceedingly glad to arrive at the summit.
There I examined it, and finding it was rather deeply cut, we hauled out the ambulance outfit and patched it up. We had only been on the summit a few moments when to our disgust it began to snow, and everything around us was blotted out. We hastily ate some biscuits and took a drink from the Thermos. Then as I was decidedly stiff Graham suggested that we try a descent by the snow slopes of the north face and so avoid the jarring descent which a return by the buttress would entail. We followed
