sends its one great glacier sweeping down into the main stream; then the Hochstetter Dome stands at the head of the Tasman Glacier itself, and westward rise the noble summits of Mounts Elie de Beaumont, Green, and De la Bêche—the last a most beautiful triple peak, queen of the whole group, and over 10,000 feet in height. Still following round, the eye falls on the Rudolf Glacier descending from the peak of the same name, then Mounts Jervois, Spencer, Glacier Peak, and lastly Mount Haidinger, a fine flat-topped mountain clothed from base to summit in broken ice.
Behind us lay Mount Tasman (11,475 feet), invisible over the higher parts of the spur on which we were now situated. From our coign of vantage we counted twenty-five tributary glaciers of the Tasman, some with ice-falls, others joining with graceful curve.
We congratulated ourselves that all our weary toil and hard swagging had not been fruitless, and felt quite compensated for the miseries we had gone through at the lower camp, though the main object of our visit, we feared, was about to be defeated in a very short time. We pulled ourselves together, put on the rope, and resolved to make some pretence of a fight for it.
After an hour's work we reached the highest rocks, then there came a dip on to a snow saddle, beyond which, again, snow slopes lead on to the final summit of the spur which hid the Great Plateau.
But it was not to be; for whenever we went on to snow we sank waist-deep, and struggled in vain to make any headway. Here, then, we were beaten, and planting our Christ's College flag in the highest rocks, gave it three, cheers for the old school days, and depositing a
