light. The wind seemed to be dying down, and at 4.45 a.m. we set out, leaving Tom still sound asleep. The snow was frozen hard, but we easily followed in Graham's footsteps of the previous night. We traversed along a steep snow slope until we reached the head of the basin formed by the west buttress of Mount Cook, Green's Saddle, and Mount Dampier. From side to side at the junction of rock and snow this basin is seamed with a huge burgschrund. Climbing to the lower lip of this we sought a possible crossing-place. Where Mr. Earle's party had crossed it the previous March was impossible. We kept away to the right as our only chance of finding a bridge. At least we found a place that looked possible, but dangerous, the rocks above it being heavily coated with snow and ice, and up these we must find our way. I anchored with the rope round my ice-axe, while Graham crossed the schrund and began attacking the icicles and loose snow on the rocks above him, to clear a few possible hand- and foot-holds. His position was most precarious, and the task looked hopeless. As I watched and waited every warning that I had received before starting on this expedition came back to me. For the first time I realized how helpless we would be if Graham came to grief and had no one but a girl to depend upon. After a while it was evident that there was only one possible point of attack, and this was out of reach unless he had some one's shoulders to stand upon. Bitterly we regretted the absence of Murphy at this moment. It was no use offering myself as a step ladder, as my modest eight stone would hardly bear the weight of a six-foot man; and my climbing on Graham's shoulders and trying my luck as leader he would not hear of, the foothold above being so slight that when I got there it was doubtful if I could keep my balance while giving him some assistance with the rope. If either of us lost our balance the inevitable consequence was a fall into the schrund. We were beaten, and I knew it; so quietly I suggested
