the shadow of some great pines. We had an exciting time trying to boil soup in a flat dish, and at the critical moment the united skill of Hastings and myself sufficed to empty the precious fluid into the fire. Hastings, however, accomplished a veritable triumph in bacon frying, and Collie provided us with most excellent tea. Under its soothing influence I slowly recovered that equanimity of mind which the disastrous loss of the soup had temporarily upset.
Having said good-bye to our friends, we made our way towards La Tapiaz, collecting on the way great bundles of sticks and branches for our camp fire. Slingsby and Collie then led us to a delightful little grassy hollow, evidently the bed of some ancient tarn, where, sheltered from all the winds that blow, we could pitch our tent and make ourselves thoroughly comfortable. We soon spied the porters high above us on the moraine, and in response to our shouts and signals they began to descend towards us. The younger members of the party being left to get the camp ready, Slingsby and I started off to inspect the peak. We met and passed the porters, but were soon disturbed by the horrid fear that they might miss our tiny hollow, so Slingsby, as usual, sacrificed himself and went back to see that our luggage did not stray. The way to the Glacier des Pélerins was very much longer than I had anticipated, and even when I got there the
