CHAPTER IV
MOUNT SEALY AND THE NUN'S VEIL
Eastward in the skies of morning
Rosy tinges streak the grey,
Bars of crimson change to golden—
Glittering heralds of the day;
Like a blood-red shield uprising
Swims the sun in palest blue,
Crowns the hills with crests of splendour,
Flashes in the trembling dew;
Far to eastward, far to northward,
Stretch the hills in purple chains;
Far to southward, far to westward,
Waves the grass on yellow plains.
Saturday, December 18th, proved fine, so I joyfully packed my rucksac and handed it over to the "chaperon" porter to swag up to the bivouac. He and Graham left at 4.30 p.m., while I remained behind to wait for the mail, as I expected my weekly Australian letters. I left about 5.30 and rapidly made my way up the steep track that leads to the mountain tarn on the Sealy Range. Just above the tarn where the track ceased I found the men waiting for me; it was a warm evening and they were weighted with heavy swags, so had been taking things easily. We set off again and climbed the steep grass slopes for another 500 feet or so, till we came to a fair-sized patch of level grass with big boulders strewn around it. Here the tents were pitched and a fire lighted, and in an hour's time we were enjoying our evening meal.
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