the evening meal which Graham had been preparing while we absorbed the beauties of nature.
Next morning we were awakened before daylight by the screaming and chattering of many keas (mountain parrots), varied by the rattle of their claws as they gaily glissaded from the ridge-pole to the gutter of our tin-roofed hut. Sleep in such a din was impossible, so we turned out with the usual reluctance to exchange a warm bunk for a cold world. As soon as breakfast was over we set out for a twelve-mile tramp over the moraine and glacier to the Malte Brun hut, which we reached without incident at noon.
On the way up we came to a decision as to our first climb. Mr. Earle and I were both very anxious to ascend Mount Malte Brun, which is reckoned the finest rock climb in the Mount Cook district. On consulting the professor we discovered that he had no inclination towards difficult rock-climbing. He declared it held too many thrills to the square inch for his constitution. He was, however, quite willing to have a day's spell round about the hut taking photographs. He also nobly offered to keep house for us and have dinner ready on our return; this offer we gratefully accepted, and promised to climb a snow peak of his choice the following or first suitable day. I was much too excited to sleep the night before our climb, and just before retiring I had a small passage of arms with Mr. Earle on the subject of costume. He declared he would not climb with me if I wore a skirt. I replied with more vigour than politeness that in that case he would have to stay behind. The skirt in question was so brief, that on my showing it to Graham, and asking him if it were all right to climb in, he had grinned cheerfully and exclaimed, "Skirt! I should call it a frill," and at once passed it as harmless. I now appealed to him to support my costume, but with a wariness born of a long experience of tourists, he declined to side with either
