ii

YALE
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

MY CLIMBING ADVENTURES IN
FOUR CONTINENTS

BY THE SAME AUTHOR
SIBERIA. A Record of Travel,
Climbing and Exploration. With
46 Illustrations and 2 Maps.
Cheap Edition. Large Crown
8vo, doth, 5s.
"The story of his adventures and ex
periences makes good reading, all the more
that it is told plainly — so many tales from
the hills — though never without a graphic
touch. " — Daily Chronicle.
' ' A more exhaustive and more interest
ing account of Siberia has rarely seen the
light."— The Graphic.
London : T. FISHER UNWIN.

MMfNT COOK FRO.M TASMAN SIDE, IP WHICH THE AUTHOR'S PARTY CLIMBED.

MY
CLIMBING ADVENTURES
IN FOUR CONTINENTS

BY

SAMUEL TURNER, F.R.G.S.
author op "sibkria: a record of travel, climbing and exploration.'

With 74 Illustrations

T. FISHER UNWIN
LONDON LEIPSIC
Adelphi Terrace Inselstrasse 20
MCMXI

TU

All Rights Rtservtd

CONTENTS BOOK I
I. Novice Stage of Climbing — I Catch Mountain
Fever on Mount Pilatus, and afterwards
Climb Mont Blanc . . . .15
II. Mountain Climbing in the Second Degree of
Difficulty — Ascent of Matterhorn in
Record Time — I Climb Monte Rosa with
a Novice, making it a dangerous climb . 32
III. Extraordinary Rock Climbs — Climbing
Walnut Tree " Matterhorn " — Ilam Rock
Climb, Dovedale, Derbyshire . . 53
IV. South to North Traverse of Aiguille des
Charmoz Pinnacle, the most dangerous
rock climb in Switzerland — the Attempt
on Aiguille du Dru — Snowstorm — Tour
of Mont Blanc . . . .70
BOOK II
V. Travel and Exploration in Siberian Moun
tains in Winter — Mountain-Climbing and
Exploration . . . . .91
VI. More Mountain Discovery — Climbing and
Exploration . . . . .117
VII. Climbing Belukha — A Narrow Escape of
being carried down the mountain by
Avalanche . . • • 139
v

VIII. I am Compelled to give up; am Poisoned,
and have Inflammation of the Eyes 159
IX. Cumberland Climbing — Discussion of the
Faculty that makes a Climber 167

X. First Winter Ascent of Mount Ngaruruhoe
and First Climb of Priest's Cap 177
XI. The Monarch of the New Zealand Alps —
the First and Only Traverse of Mount
Cook 201
XII. A South American Climb — my Attempt to
rush Aconcagua 231
XIII. Conclusion 250
Appendix 265
Index 279

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Mount Cook from Tasman Side, up which
the Author's Party Climbed . . Frontispiece
Medal Presented to the Author by the
Russian Imperial Geographical Society . To face p. 15
Aiguille des Charmoz, and Mont Blanc in
the Background . . . . „ 26
Author and his Guide under Shoulder of
the Matterhorn . . . • » 35
Up the Shoulder of the Matterhorn. Dr
Murett and the Guide in Storm . „ 35
(Photographed by Author)
Author Climbs Easy Slopes Garth Stone
Quarry . . . . . ,, 36
(Photo, during his first climb)
Author and Guide. Italian Side of Summit
of Matterhorn . . . „ 37
Summit of the Matterhorn . . . „ 37
Party in Storm, Top of Shoulder of Matter
horn (14,000 Feet above Sea Level, Clouds
3000 Feet below) . . . . „ 38
A. B. Holmes on the Summit of the Highest
Ridge of Monte Rosa (15,217 Feet above
Sea Level) . . . . . „ 48
The Dutchman, Author, and Guide (from
Left to Right) on Monte Rosa Slopes . „ 48
Ilam Rock, Dovedale, Derbyshire . . „ 60
Summit of Aiguille des Charmoz and Grepon,
with Aiguille du Geant in Distance . „ 70
Author's Party and Aiguille des Charmoz in
the Distance . . . . „ 70
A. H. Binns poses for Author to Photo
graph (5000 Feet above Mer-de-Glace, seen
below) . . . . . . ,, 72

Vlll

List of Illustrations

A. H. Binns falls into a Crevasse .
(Author photographed him before pulling him out)
" Is It Possible ? "
(Author climbing round overhanging precipices on the Aiguille
des Charmoz)
Porter Misses his Footing and Dangles
over 5000 Feet of Precipice
Author Climbing Awkward Pinnacle with
Round Top, Making Use of only Foot-
hole ......
A. H. Binns Climbing a Crack, Aiguille des
Charmoz .....
(Photo, by Author)
Author's Party Climbing Crack on Charmoz
Precipices .....
South Slopes of Belukha (14,800 Feet)
Mount Bronyar, Opposite " Windy Camp " .
Saptam Mountain, near Katunda
We Cross the River Akkem in Canoe
Katunskie-belki, with Belukha West Peak
on Extreme Left, from a height of 11,000
Feet .....
Katumskie-belki, with Willer's Peak (17,800
Feet, on extreme right)
Glacier near Willer's Peak .
End of Frozen Lake
Katunskie-belki and Lateral Moraine, from
"Windy Camp"
Ice-Glaced Peaks, from Willer's Peak
Photograph of the Author taken by himself
on the top of some Steep Rocks .
Snow-bound Tent and Unnamed Peak, at 4 a.m
"Desolate Camp," Tent on Moraine and
Belukha West Peak
North Face of Belukha from Glacier, Twin
Peaks (14,800 feet)
Kalmuck Bark Hut, Akkem Valley .
Kalmucks on Akkem Pass
My Hunter, his Wife and Mansion .

To face p. 72
,, 76
7878
82
82
9i
,, 91
,, "4
„ 120 124
„ 126
» 13°
,, 13°
i32 »34
134 136
139
.. 159
» !S9
» 161
.. 162

List of Illustrations

IX

Author's Party on River Biysk Broken Ice To face p. 162
The only Sledges we met for 400 miles
The Pleasures of a Thaw

Mount Ngaruruhoe, Extinct Volcano, New
Zealand .....
Liebig Range from Tasman Glacier .
Author on Hard Frozen Slopes of Mount
Ngaruruhoe Photographs Himself by Long
Tube ......
Summit Snow Slopes of Priest's Cap Moun
tain, New Zealand Alps
Base Camp for Priest's Cap Climb
Author's Party on the March up the
Tasman Glacier ....
(Notice the heavy loads on the backs. We did our own portering)
Summits of the Liebig Range from the
Summit of Priest's Cap
10,000 feet of Mount Cook from Summit of
Priest's Cap Looking Across the Tasman
Valley .....
Author Lent a Jersey to the Roadman and
Photographed him at the Spot on
Ngaruruhoe where he Promised to wait
Malte Brun Hut ....
(Author's party dig it out of the unusually deep snow,
Tasman glacier)
Author Exploring a Crevasse
Author Climbing out after Exploring a
Crevasse .....
Malcolm Ross on Summit of Mount Cook .
(He tried to climb Mount Cook for twenty years, and was grateful
that Author's expedition gave him success at last)
Peter Graham, Author, and T. C. Fyfe on
Summit of Mount Cook
Author Leads T. C. Fyfe and Party up
Mount Cook Buttress
hochstetter ice fall
Steep Slopes near Mount Cook Bivouac and
Liebig Range, with Mount Priest's Cap
in the Distant Clouds
Mount Cook Bivouac and Author's Party .

164164
177 178
178 180180
184 184
188 190
190192
192
203203
205207208

List of Illustrations

Three Summits of Mount Cook, and Lake
pukokas down in the distance
(Author's party photographed Mount Cook summit for the first time)
Two Summits of Mount Cook .
Hooker Side of Mount Cook from the
Hermitage .....
(Author's expedition descended this side)
The Gully up which Author's Party Com
menced the Aconcagua Climb
The Three Peaks of Aconcagua and the
3000 Feet Precipices
A Peon, and Author Mounted, Starting for
Aconcagua from Puente Del Inca Hotel
in the Andes ....
Mount Aconcagua from the Valley, and
Author's Party ....
Author on Aconcagua, and Mount Orcones
in Background ....
Mount Orcones (21,000 Feet) from Valley
Orcones .....
Small Tent Pitched near Huge Boulder
(16,000 Feet). Base Camp and Author's
Party with Mules . . . . „ 240
Small Tent at 16,000 Feet Camp. Aconcagua
after Fresh Snow. Mules Coming up
Valley

face

P

. 212

)J

214

))

224

>)

231

J)

231
jj
232
))
234
))
236
a
238
Mount Orcones (21,500 Feet) from Slopes of
Aconcagua
242
244
Loading Mules 16,000 Feet Camp after Heavy
Snowstorm, Aconcagua . . . „ 244
One of the Author's Proofs of Equilibrium.
In Botanical Gardens, Kandy, Ceylon . „ 254
Mount Orcones, and Author on Slopes of
Aconcagua (over 20,000 Feet) . . „ 254
FOREWORD
This account of some of my most risky climbing
and exploration feats was written under trying
circumstances on board ship on my last year's
journey to Australia and back. I am a commercial
man, not a literary man, and I write a plain, un-
coloured narrative, feeling that I leave myself at
the mercy of all literary critics.
My outfits and assistance for my climbs have
been of the scantiest, compared with the up-to-date
experienced expeditions organised for climbing in
our days. In this respect, I have had more hard
ships to put up with. At the same time, I don't
believe in these large cumbersome expeditions
and the luxury the present-day climbers get in
the mountains. I believe in the hard, stern fight
between the man and the object of his ambition,
without relying upon a lot of porters, guides, large
tents, etc. The man who wishes to sleep in tents
every night on a climb of Mount Everest is not
made of hard enough stuff to get on its summit.

xii Foreword
He must be hard enough to be able to sleep on
the snow without tent if necessary.
The Westminster Gazette, in reviewing my book
on Siberia, called me "the most adventurous living
climber," and I hope none of my critics will call
me anything worse.

BOOK I

Translation.
Imperial Russian
Geographical Society for
Useful Work.

Map of
Northern
Hemisphere.

Copy of Letter sent with the Meoal from the Russian Impekmal Geographical Society.
St. l'ckisburg, 3/21, III., 190S.
Dear Sir -The Council of our Society has awarded you a medal for your explorations and your book. The
medal has been sent to Mr. J. Scott Keltie, Secretary of the Royal Geographical Socety, London, for you.
I remain, dear sir, yours, Jule Schokalsky.

CHAPTER I
NOVICE STAGE OF CLIMBING — I CATCH MOUNTAIN
FEVER ON MOUNT PILATUS, AND AFTERWARDS
CLIMB MONT BLANC
THE inspiration to climb the highest European
mountains seized me as I gazed at them
from the summits of Rigi and Pilatus fifteen years
ago. It was my first sight of high, snow-capped
mountains. The summits looked unearthly high, mysteri
ous when lit by the morning tint, and heavenly
in the Alpine glow. These huge piles of the
earth's crust fascinated me into feeling that any
risks taken to conquer them would be forgotten
and repaid a thousand times by the rare feelings
I should have on their summits.
The party I was with listened very attentively
to a gentleman who spoke of his nephew having
climbed some minor peaks, and of how he in
tended trying the ascent of Mont Blanc. He
impressed me with the idea that it was a wonder
ful feat to climb Mont Blanc, and this confirmed
the magazine articles I had read. The whole

My Climbing Adventures
atmosphere of my surroundings seemed to
challenge all that was in me to try conclusions
with these giants of the Alps, which made me
vow that I would some day conquer Mont Blanc
or die in the attempt. Without knowing it, I
had contracted mountain fever, which was destined
to lead me into all kinds of adventurous climb
ing and exploration at times which suited me,
though they were often the most dangerous times
to climb the mountains. I had gone up Mount
Pilatus and the Rigi as a Polytechnic tourist,
but I ran down Pilatus in two and a half hours
and landed at its base a mountaineer in spirit
and desires. Since that day I have tackled every
shade of rock-, ice-, and snow-climbing, from the
most dangerous miniature - rock acrobatic climbs
to exploration through unknown country and
mountains. My experience has been gained at
very considerable risk, and in the moments when
more practical feelings take the place of the long
ing for the mountains, I wonder what in the
world led me into such difficult undertakings at
the most dangerous times of the year. My only
excuse is that I am, and always have been during
my climbing career, a very busy commercial man,
visiting Siberia, New Zealand, South America,
16

My Novice Stage
and other countries on business, and have had to
snatch my holidays at the time most convenient
to my business ; and although it would take any
ordinary man about two years to visit the different
countries and climb as much as I have done, I
don't think it has cost me more time than a
man in my position would take for his holidays.
If I had waited for fine weather it would have
interfered with my business, and I have never
been able to afford this; and I can honestly say
that my climbing has never been allowed to inter
fere with business. When you think of the enor
mous extra risks one takes in tackling a country
and mountains in remote Siberia in winter, com
pared with summer conditions, you will naturally
expect that this book will be full of narrow
escapes and anxious moments, not experienced by
the ordinary mountain-climber or explorer, who
would not risk the climb in the off-season or
climb in unfavourable weather.
You must please remember that when I started
on these climbs I was full of confidence and hope
of success without undue risk ; but if I had known
what I would have to go through, I should have
decided that it was not right for a married man
to take such risks which, in many cases, took all

17

My Climbing Adventures
the pleasure away, and gave me, instead, that un
reasonable, unsatisfying thirst for adventure which
leads to fatal results.
Stimulated by the very encouraging reviews
of my last book on Siberia, my publisher has
invited me to offer to the public this further
description of some of my climbs ; and being
painfully conscious that one mountain climb is
very much like another, and becomes very
quickly tiresome, I shall endeavour to leave out
anything which I may consider too detailed. Some
of my important climbs have appeared in magazine
form before, but there are a good many very
interesting incidents omitted which will give me
material to give an account from a different
aspect. My only aims in this book are to warn the
climber against attempting climbs in bad weather,
to show the novice the real dangers of Swiss
and other mountain-climbing, and to leave on
record some descriptions of lucky escapes out of
places where nobody, but a "Mountain Maniac"
would allow the fever to lead him.
To climb a mountain successfully with the
minimum of risk, one must climb the mountain
in ideal weather and in its best condition. My
first climb was Mont Blanc (15,784 feet), the highest
18

My Novice Stage
in Europe ; it was fortunately climbed in good
weather. Snatching a brief holiday, I reached
Chamonix, 7th September 1898, and after a trip
over the Mer-de-Glace glacier and a climb up the
Aiguille du Dru to about 9000 feet, I felt myself
in good condition. The beautiful sunrise on the
morning of 8th September 1898 illuminated Mont
Blanc to such an extent that, by the aid of the
telescope, I could almost distinguish the beaten
path up which Frederick Payot, Joseph Couttet
and myself intended to climb the following morn
ing. We left Chamonix at 10.10 a.m., and the
hotel guests, knowing it was my first climb, made
the departure quite an important event by making
a fuss of us.
We strolled casually up to Pierre Pointue, in
company with E. S. Halford, a well-known Alpine
climber. After lunch, Mr Halford tried my ability
on some rock on our way to Pierre a l'Echelle, and
we parted where our track leaves the mule-path,
on which he continued to climb the Aiguille du
Midi, the needle-tipped peak next to Mont Blanc.
We turned down on to the Glacier des Bossons, and
I came in close contact with those crevasses which
had, up to now, only looked like streaks of blue
from the Chamonix valley, and which looked
19

My Climbing Adventures
like treacherous fissures from Pierre Pointue and
the mule-path to Pierre a l'Echelle.
It was a hot day, and the glacier gave us a
cooler atmosphere and made the easy first half of
the glacier a most refreshing walk. The cracks or
small crevasses were usually filled with a beautiful,
pure, blue-looking water, tempting to drink. Half
way across to the Grands-Mulets we roped together,
and began jumping, striding, and step-cutting to
get across the crevasses.
The climax to the route we took was just
where the Glacier de Taconnaz and the Glacier
des Bossons meet.
Ice meets on its journey from two directions,
and this pressure, helped by a rocky, uneven bed,
produces seVacs and pinnacles of all shapes and
sizes, some of the largest 60 to 80 feet high, and
30 to 40 feet thick. All the snow-bridges were
badly melted and the ice very rotten, owing to a
very hot, cloudless summer in the high Alps ; this
made it very careful work. The crevasses are
50 to 500 feet deep, but the average deep crevasses
are not more than 50 feet. I intended reaching the
summit as quickly as possible, so we took a more
difficult straight course across the glacier, instead of
going a long way round to evade the difficulties.
20

My Novice Stage
The crevasses are a beautiful light blue on the
top and develop into a darker blue the deeper they
are, until those which are very deep look black at
the farthest depth the eye can see.
There are cracks a little way down, some of the
wide ones revealing further crevasses in different
directions at different angles, from 30 to 50 degrees
of a slant under the ice. Nearing the Grands-
Mulets, two planks with strips of wood across and
a ladder make it a simple matter to finish the
roughest part leading to the rocks, up which we
climbed to the Grands-Mulets. The hut at the
Grands- Mulets is more expensive than Hotel
Belmont, the Waldorf Astoria New York, or the
most expensive hotel in the world, and the accom
modation is as uncomfortable as the tariff is high.
It is only 10,000 feet up on the Glacier des Bossons,
but you would think the hut was 20,000 feet up on
the Himalayas or some impossible place. The
view of the sunset from the Grands-Mulets is very
hard to equal on any mountain in Switzerland for
a close view. The hotels and chalets of Chamonix
were lit up just before the shadow rose quickly,
followed by darkness, which caused Mont Blanc
to drop back in the distance as though a hundred
miles away. The shadow at one time rose 4000
21

My Climbing Adventures
feet in one and a half minutes. Just as we were
retiring we heard a cry for help below the Grands-
Mulets rocks. Our guide went down with a lantern,
and found a porter had lost his way on the glacier.
That was no rare occurrence, as the glacier changes
so much. The hut-keeper burnt a red light, which
was answered by a similar light in the Chamonix.
Whether it was to indicate that all was well with
the tourists, or to indicate that he was making
plenty of money, and business was good, I don't
know. There was a Belgian lady with two guides,
and a German doctor with two guides, then later
in the evening two Italian officers and two guides
put in an appearance. We retired to rest early,
but were prevented from sleeping by the constant
noises of guides and porters, who were having a
good spree on the liquor so necessary to the guide,
according to his ideas.
We were up and preparing to start about two
o'clock in the morning. The two Italian officers were
just starting, and one remarked to me that they
would be on the summit before us. I said : " We
will see about that." The ice-slope across the
Glacier de Taconnaz, which is an incline of 30 to
40 degrees, was treated with respect in the dim
light of early morning, because it had a frozen
22

My Novice Stage
surface and the crevasses were deep and numerous.
We had to cut steps down one side of crevasses and
up the opposite side. The pyramids of ice were
so immense in some places that we stopped even
on the edge of crevasses to look at them ; you
could imagine bears, wolves, lions, ships and all
kinds of things figured on these seVacs and
pyramids. Avalanches had shot across our path and the
sight of one or two made us move quickly. The
snow-bridges caused by these fresh avalanches were
not too secure, so we distributed our weight over as
much surface as possible by crawling on our hands
and knees. Surely we showed enough respect to
Mont Blanc in such a humble attitude. The lead
ing guide sounded the snow with his ice-axe, but
the method is not too good and cannot be relied
upon, as we found by a weakening tendency of one
or two of them while in the very middle. A steep
incline along a zigzag route brought us to the Petit
Plateau, which might be called a small mountain
basin for the reception of avalanches, which come
thundering from the Dome du Gouter at the most
unexpected moments. The guide pointed out the
place where Herr Rothe and Michel Simond were
swept into a crevasse and killed on 21st August
23

My Climbing Adventures
1 89 1. The crevasse was large enough to swallow
a house. After leaving the Petit Plateau we climbed a
steep slope of ice and snow, about 45 degrees,
looking steeper in the pale moonlight. We de
cided on early breakfast, but my bottle of tea, being
carried on the outside of the guide's rucksack, had
frozen into a block of ice. The two bottles of wine
for the guides had been placed in the middle of the
rucksack, next to the guide's back, to prevent them
freezing. I had to be content with the pleasure of
seeing the bottle of tea shoot over a precipice. We
reached the Grand Plateau at 4.5 a.m., 12,000 feet
above sea-level. This is a very large basin of
snow, nearly flat, about 300 to 400 square yards,
also very much exposed to avalanches. It was
very trying for me to keep my eyes open, and I
was quite indifferent about the avalanches. The
air is very close and rarefied. From the top of the
Plateau we saw the change from dawn into day.
There was a straight line across in the direction of
Chamonix valley, which divided twilight from day.
Sun and moon's light had met, and the moon was
making a feeble effort to hold its ground ; but the
sun lit up the summit of Mont Blanc and the line
vanished before we could realise it ; this brought
24

My Novice Stage
the summit of Mont Blanc very near, and we
hurried on to the hut (14,321 feet), built near
the Ddme du Gouter (14,210 feet). The want
of sleep, the hurrying and the rarity of the air
made me more thirsty than I should have been,
and this began to tell on me, so we made a short
stay sitting near the hut.
The thought of the Italian officers came to my
mind and stimulated me to push on up the Bosses
du Dromadaire (called by this name because they
represent the two humps on a dromedary's back).
We hurried up the last slope to the summit of
Mont Blanc, and were pleased that the Italian
officers had not arrived. The Observatory was
unlocked by a key which my guide had. I climbed
the stairs and stood on the top of the railings.
This made me considerably over 15,800 feet above
the sea-level. We heard the cannon give us three
salutes in reply to a wave of my handkerchief.
Our speed over the Bosses du Dromadaire and up
the last part of Mont Blanc was increased, because
we knew the whole of the numerous telescopes in
Chamonix had a throng of eager sightseers behind
them, watching our movements ; but for this we
would not have reached the summit by 8.30 a.m.,
exactly six hours from Grands-Mulets to the
25

My Climbing Adventures
Observatory, or eleven hours twenty minutes from
Chamonix, actual climbing without counting stops.
I slept in the Observatory some considerable
time before I was aroused by the Italian officers
shouting in good English — " Bravo, Englishman,
you won all right." We had tea (made of snow
water) together, and they started off down again,
while I stayed to admire the view.
The foundation of the Observatory is on snow,
at a height of 15,784 feet, and will one day slip
down the mountain and leave the summit unvulgar-
ised once more. It contains all kinds of instru
ments, which are nearly always out of order, and for
all the good I have ever heard coming from it, it
might better suit the lower Alps for a goat- or cow
shed. The summit of Mont Blanc is rather too high
above other peaks to enable one to realise the
grandeur of the precipices and snow slopes of the
mountains all around.
It is as though the Aiguilles of the Mont Blanc
range were columns and pillars for the purpose
of supporting a dome of snow 2000 to 3000 feet
higher than themselves. It has the advantages
of a mountain-range view of a most magnificent
description, and in this respect it well repays one.

AIGUILLE DES CHARMOZ, AND MONT BLANC IN THE BACKGROUND.

To face p. 26,

My Novice Stage
There are only a few mountains in all the European
Alps which give one this view of ranges of
mountains in every direction ; while there are
hundreds of minor peaks where one can see the
adjacent mountains to much better advantage.
The range view is the best from Mont Blanc for
the European Alps, as it very often is from the
highest mountain in any mountain system ; it will
always, therefore, prove a source of special attrac
tion to the climber, because the view from the
summit of the mountain is always one of the
attractions of a climb.
Lake Geneva looked a very small, crescent-
shaped lake about 2 to 3 miles long, while it is
about 56 miles long. Chamonix looked like a lot
of black specks of mud in a green valley, and a
streak of white cotton down the centre of the valley
appeared in place of the mountain torrent.
Standing on my first conquered summit, the
difficulty of the climb seemed nothing, and the
dreaded Mont Blanc was gone for ever ; but, unlike
most successes one realises, which suddenly grow
commonplace and very familiar, the summit of
Mont Blanc retained for me that fascination and
mystery which possessed me after the view fronk
Pilatus. The impression left with me after stand-
27

My Climbing Adventures
ing on the summit of Mont Blanc was enough to
make my growing mountain fever still more intense ;
and it did. We roped together at 11.30 a.m. and
commenced the descent.
I was surprised on reaching the hut to find it was
taken down ready for removal, because it was slip
ping down the mountain. This lowered my idea of
the great feat of climbing Mont Blanc : all these
supposed dangers had been undertaken to remove a
hut. I had looked up the records and found 1656
climbs had been made in about one hundred and
twenty years, but I soon came to see that these
officially-recorded climbs were those which had paid
heavily for the privilege, and had been started from
and received back into Chamonix.
We glissaded down the steep slope into the
Grand Plateau and hurried across it without a word,
and more standing glissading brought us to the
Petit Plateau ; from here we were compelled to go
carefully by the side and across crevasses, until
we reached the most difficult part of the Glacier
de Taconnaz, with its huge blocks of ice. Jumping
many crevasses and taking a zigzag course, brought
us to the most practical way to the Grands-Mulets.
The glacier round the rocks of the Grands-Mulets
presses itself into pieces, over which there is no
28

My Novice Stage
possible route, and the ordinary route up Mont
Blanc is made much longer by having to go down
the centre of the glacier, half a mile away from the
hut, and then suddenly turn to the right.
After lunch the Belgian lady asked me to watch
her and her guides and see she got safe to
Chamonix. They kept about 20 yards ahead of
us. They had not gone far before her porter
slipped into a crevasse, pulling her to her knees.
The guide behind her pushed his ice-axe into the
snow and prevented the party slipping in. We ran
down and round to the other side, expecting to see
the porter hurt, but he was undamaged, and swing
ing like a pendulum from one side to the other in
his hopeless attempts to dig his feet into the side.
We unroped and lowered our rope to him ; he tied
our rope round his waist, and loosened their rope as
we pulled him up a little. Once he was free from
their rope, we hauled him out. The whole of the
time this was being done, the guides and the porter
in the crevasse were joking one with the other.
This incident did still more to lower my opinion of
the feat of climbing across crevasses. It also gave
courage to the lady, and we made very much better
time. We narrowly escaped a rock avalanche, which
b 29

My Climbing Adventures
was coming down from the Aiguille du Midi.
After this we unroped ; I bade the lady good-day,
and we hurried down to Chamonix. That journey
made me begin to love the mountains, but I came
down feeling it was not so difficult to climb Mont
Blanc as I had imagined, and that, given fine
weather, it was only a long snow and ice trudge ;
all the danger had been taken away by the security
of three of us being tied together by the rope.
Mont Blanc is the most deadly mountain in bad
weather. It is the only mountain in the world that
has claimed eleven victims in one tragedy, near its
summit, too ; showing very plainly that you are
really at the mercy of the mountain. Many parties
have lost their lives owing to miscalculating in the
clear air the distance to the next hut, and thinking
they could get there before the storm commenced.
We were given a reception on getting back to
Chamonix, and after that climb non-climbers looked
upon me as a climber, and I had made my mind up
to become an expert mountaineer. After a few
minor climbs I left Chamonix, feeling that when I
returned to tackle the mountains I should no longer
be considered a novice. I had the date of the
climb and the mountain's name burnt in my ice-axe,
to indicate I had ascended the highest mountain in
30

My Novice Stage
Europe. I took and paid for a certificate from the
chief guide's office, and I felt that this completed
the novice stage of my climbing, and that I had
carried out all the formalities which seem ridiculous
in after years.

31

CHAPTER II
MOUNTAIN CLIMBING IN THE SECOND DEGREE OF
DIFFICULTY — ASCENT OF MATTERHORN IN RECORD
TIME — I CLIMB MONTE ROSA WITH A NOVICE,
MAKING IT A DANGEROUS CLIMB
THE Matterhorn and Monte Rosa are about
the second degree of difficulty in Swiss
climbing, a distinct step above the novice stage.
I journeyed to Zermatt via the Gemmi Pass on
September 1899, accompanied by Mr A. B. Holmes,
Buxton. Arriving in Zermatt in the evening, I
started for the Matterhorn at 12.5 midnight the
same evening. I had read about a record climb of
the Matterhorn and wished to beat it. I had seen
the Matterhorn from the summit of the Gemmi
Pass, and I had another view or two on my way to
Zermatt. The guide I had engaged by letter from
England, and had selected a porter at Visp ; this
explains how we were able to rush to the mountain
the same evening. An old guide at Hotel Monte
Rosa acted as timekeeper, and we commenced the
32

More Difficult Climbs
journey through the village, round the churchyard,
and made a good pace up to the Schwarzsee Hotel,
resting here for a drink of cold tea. Pushing on
over the rough, stony path, we reached the Hornli
ridge, and were soon at the Matterhorn hut enjoy
ing some soup.
Climbing down the ridge towards the actual
peak, we were enabled to get on to one of the
ridges of the Matterhorn. I was surprised to find
fairly broad ledges where I expected, looking from
the Schwarzsee Hotel, only precipices ; this taught
me that mountains look more precipitous seen from
the distance. We turned to the left along a ledge
of rock, getting an occasional glimpse of the pale
moon through fast-fleeting clouds. Turning to
wards the main ridge, we climbed steep rocks in
that direction for about 600 feet. Again turning
to the left we passed over loose stones (a sign of
avalanches) and came to the large couloir. We
carefully cut our steps up for about 500 feet to
round the overhanging rocks ; we crossed several
snow gullies and arrived at the old cabin (now out
of use except as a storm shelter), where we enjoyed
an early breakfast. The first signs of sunrise
coming from the direction of Monte Rosa gave me
a most unique panorama. We had a splendid view
33

My Climbing Adventures
of a large number of the monarchs of the Alps,
13,500 to 15,217 feet, the highest summit of Monte
Rosa. The wind made music amongst the rocks of the
Matterhorn, and it became a very wild, threatening
morning : this spurred us on up the steep rocks
leading to the main ridge again ; here we had grit
as well as wind blown into our faces, until we did
not take advantage of all the hand-holes.
We were very early at so high an altitude, and
some of the ice remained in the cracks and crevasses,
which, with the wind, made it very difficult. We
decided upon climbing steeper rocks off the main
ridge for some distance. We looked forward to
and hoped for better conditions before climbing the
shoulder, and when we reached the shoulder we
rested under it for three-quarters of an hour, hoping
the wind would stop. Dr Murett, of the Lausanne
University, with his two guides, overtook us under
the shoulder and seemed to bring better weather,
so we proceeded with all possible speed up the
vertical rocks to the shoulder, the most exposed
part of the Matterhorn, a peculiarly awkward slope.
The snow has a resting-place, and there are railings
near the top of the shoulder. I took two snapshots
of Dr Murett and his guides while they were
34

UP THE SHOULDER OF THE MATTERHORN. DR. MURETT
AND THE OUIDEIIN STORM.
(Photographed by Author.)

AUTHOR AND HIS GUIDE UNDER SHOULDER OF
THE MATTERHORN.

To face y.

More Difficult Climbs
climbing the shoulder in the gale. The photo
graphs came out well, showing the clouds 3000
feet below the shoulder, extending to the Bernese
Oberland on one side and Monte Viso in Italy on
the other side. We felt the full force of the wind
here, and the Doctor lost his hat. Although the
ropes attached to the mountains in some parts
were found to be of little use, on account of their
being untrustworthy and rotten, we found them
acceptable when we had to stoop down on the
shoulder to prevent being blown off. The top of
the shoulder was the climax of the Matterhorn
climb, and here the ropes and chains all helped us.
We could not have proceeded in such weather but
for them. While climbing above the shoulder I
could see huge square blocks of ice broken away
from the Matterhorn glacier 4000 feet below.
We could see about 4000 feet down the other
side of the glacier some of the narrow pieces of
rock lying over cracks which required very careful
climbing over underneath. We continually had an
uninterrupted view of both sides of the mountain.
Climbing the last few hundred feet with a great
amount of satisfaction, we stood on the summit
of the Matterhorn, despite the storm, at about
8.30 A.M. 35

My Climbing Adventures
The Matterhorn is one of the most impressive
mountains in the world, on account of its apparent
obelisk ; and the summit is as exposed as any
summit. The mountains around seem very fierce,
and the precipices most vertical. The position is
similar to being up in a balloon, just like standing
up in the air, and next to Mont Blanc it is as
good a mountain from which to see the mountain-
system of the Alps as one can imagine. I could
see Mont Blanc summit 120 miles away, just as I
had seen the Matterhorn from Mont Blanc, and
although Mont Blanc was the furthest object I
could distinguish, I have no doubt but that I could
have seen Mont Blanc if it had been 150 miles
away. We walked from one summit to another
very carefully, being still roped together, and I
placed my card in a bottle in the usual way, and
stood to try and take in the view. It is not easy
to make the mind grasp the distances and the
depth of precipices and the size of the peaks
all around ; but by looking at the mountains for
some little time this is realised, and one feels
one's own insignificance, but with it an excep
tional feeling of satisfaction and pleasure at having
conquered the difficult precipices and ice slopes of
the Matterhorn. The actual summit changes each

AUTHOR CLIMBS EASY SLOPES GARTH
STONE QUARRY.
(Photo during his first climb )

SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN.

AUTHOR AND GUIDE. ITALIAN SIDE OF SUMMIT
OF MATTERHORN.

More Difficult Climbs
year, but when I stood on the top it was a V-
shape, and in the photograph showing Dr Murett
and his two guides on the summit the V-shape is
¦quite clear. We climbed over the snow of the
summit on the Italian side, which was about 9 feet
thick, and rested on the Italian side, while we
were anchored to two ice-axes pushed into the snow
on the summit, and the rope wound round. Our
porter gave us a Swiss warbling song, and we had
a pleasant time, cut short by severe gusts of wind
and snow blown over the summit. The guides
knew we were in for a storm, and we quickly
climbed to the summit, where we got the full force
of the gale and could hardly stand. We had
passed two guides and a climber who were coming
off the Matterhorn, having given it up as hope
less in such weather. Just as we had commenced
our climb at this point I thought them wise
men. The storm delayed our progress, although we
forced ourselves through it. The wind was
coming up the mountain in a fierce hurricane,
blowing grit and hard snow 20 to 30 feet above
the summit from the Swiss side. We had to climb
in a crouched position most of the time, with the
face towards the rock. While in this stooping posi-
37

My Climbing Adventures
tion I could distinguish clearly that the forces of
Nature and this huge mountain of rock had been
at war and the mountain had lost heavily ; thou
sands of tons of moraine and huge rocks lying
on the glacier, 7000 feet below, had been split off
the Matterhorn by Nature's mountain-chisel, "Jack
Frost." It was apparent that the danger of rock-
avalanches on the Matterhorn had been and was
very serious. The cracks and fissures in the rock
on the Matterhorn are so numerous that the
mountain looks like a pile of ruins. The snow
melted by the sun lodges in these cracks, freezes
at night, expanding during the freezing and bursts
the rock, which breaks away from the ice grip
when the sun thaws that ice. This process going
on for thousands of years is the same law of Nature
that is at work making the mountains of the world
gradually fill up the valleys ; the glaciers helping
this agency by carrying huge boulders miles away
from the mountain. When we were climbing
down the steep rocks above the shoulder in this
storm, the spot where the Whympers' accident
occurred was climbed down with special caution.
One source of danger on the Matterhorn is that
the slopes of rock in many places are not steep
enough to climb down face towards the rock, and
38

PARTY IN STORM, TOP OF SHOULDER OF MATTERHORN (14,000 FEET ABOVE
SEA LEVEL), CLOUDS 3,000 FEET BELOW.

To face p. 38-

More Difficult Climbs
not easy slope enough to walk down, and no
doubt that may have had something to do with
the Matterhorn accident. The party might have
climbed down face towards the rock with much
more safety than walking down in the way they
did. I cannot feel proud of the way we slid and
crawled down and over the Matterhorn shoulder.
We thanked the brave guides who had placed
ropes and chains on the Matterhorn. We had dis
dained to use them on the way up, until the storm
made us, but now the storm had increased to a
blizzard, and we had to catch hold of anything to
prevent ourselves being blown off.
Fresh snow had covered up most of the ropes
and chains, but I had just got a grip of the chain
near where the shoulder finishes when the porter
slipped and nearly jerked me and himself off the
mountain. He was twenty or thirty seconds before
he could turn himself round and get a grip of
the rocks again, but after the first jerk I had
tightened my grip on the chain. This was the
climax to a number of slips. From here we
climbed much more carefully, despite the storm.
It was causing the sightseers in Zermatt very
great concern to see us struggling with the storm,
and we were told that every telescope was eagerly
39

My Climbing Adventures
trained on to us until we descended through some
clouds which had enveloped us. Once off the exposed
shoulder we jumped down the Matterhorn ledges,
as though we had been on a broad path. We
steadied ourselves while cutting our steps down
the ice slope, until we heard an avalanche coming
down, and we rushed the last 20 or 30 feet over
almost obliterated ice steps. Some of the ava
lanche shot over our heads, and some came down
the ice slope and obliterated the ice steps we had
cut a few minutes before. While we paused, my
guide found a pipe and cap, which turned out to
belong to the guide Zurrier, who had been killed
one month before by a rock-avalanche on this
same couloir. Both the pipe and cap were placed
in the Zermatt Museum, which is full of relics of
disasters. Looking up for more avalanches, we
could see snow and pieces of ice being blown up.
over the summit at a furious rate. We hurried
down and round the precipices, until we reached
the narrow divide that enabled us to climb on to
Hornli ridge. I left one of the guides at the
Matterhorn hut to bring our rucksacks, etc., and
hurried along to the Schwarzsee with Tangwald.
He said that Mr Binns, who had beaten the record
which I was trying to lower, had left him with
40

More Difficult Climbs
a bottle of wine and completed the journey to
Zermatt himself. I had to do likewise, and it
was not long before I reached Zermatt, running
down the latter part of the journey. Not counting
the stay at the Matterhorn hut on the way up in
the same way as the previous record-breaker, I
had completed the climb up and down in twelve
hours and thirty-five minutes. This was one hour
faster than the fastest time on record under
similar conditions for stops.
I had gained an experience of rock-climbing,
owing to that storm, very much like that of a
man who finds himself thrown into deep water
before he has learnt to swim. It was like con
centrated years of practice and experience. A
novice overlooks little cracks and holes where he
could get a grip or a footing, but the expert
climber has trained a faculty which is so used to
seeing the possible hand- and foot-holds, that he
uses them as though by instinct. The storm
threatening to blow me off made me see every
possible help on the rock, and taught me the
value of every little crack or possible hold by
hand or foot. The Matterhorn under favourable
conditions may be much easier than it was when
I climbed it, but I am sure that it is only a
41

My Climbing Adventures
mountain that a good climber should tackle. The
novice will do well not to take any notice of any
one who makes light of the Matterhorn. It has
not become easier than when the Whymper and
other accidents occurred on it, and these accidents
have mostly been owing to the difficulties and
dangers of the mountain, and not like Mont Blanc
fatalities, which have chiefly been owing to the
bad weather, making the climber helpless and
quite at the mercy of the enormous snow -fields.
All Arctic and Antarctic climbers should climb
Mont Blanc for practice, to enable them to know
how to tackle crevasses and discover snow-covered
crevasses. Since my rush up and forced rush down the
Matterhorn, my idea is that it is a mistake to go
for speed unless caught in a storm.
It is even a mistake to climb any mountain
unless you can tackle it at the most favourable
time. I will next take my climb of Monte Rosa,
with the object of showing how some people get
to the summits of the Alps. There are climbers
who only need a guide to show them the route up
a mountain and a porter to do the carrying work,
42

More Difficult Climbs
and both to be roped to the climber to make the
maximum of safety on a glacier or mountain ;
there are other climbers who would need an
occasional pull at the rope or a confidence-giving
word at the right time ; but there is the would-be
climber, who knows he does not possess the stamina
or ability to do anything but be dragged up.
The climber, although a novice, may be a
good athlete and able to climb the mountain with
occasional help ; but most novices are useless, and
are simply hauled up the mountain. My climb of
Monte Rosa was with a novice of the useless type,
and it will probably serve as a caution to climbers
against selecting their climbing companions too
casually. I am convinced that most of the accidents
occur owing to the novice in the party.
My friend Holmes took the two guides with
whom I climbed the Matterhorn, and went to climb
Monte Rosa the day after the Matterhorn climb.
I intended to have a rest that day, but about mid
day I could not resist putting on my climbing-suit
and boots and taking my ice-axe with me for com
pany up to the Gorner Grat to meet my friend.
While waiting at the Gorner Grat a Dutchman of
Amsterdam said "he had watched me run down
the last part of the Matterhorn the day previous,
43

My Climbing Adventures
and had a good opinion of my climbing ability, and
as he intended climbing Monte Rosa, he would be
delighted if I would join him and have the free
use of his guides." I looked upon this as a chance
of a lifetime, as I was a poorer man in those days,
and it meant saving about .£12. I gladly accepted
his kind offer, on condition that I met my friend
Holmes and got back some of the things I had
lent him to complete his kit.
I met my friend and he gave me a dreadful ac
count of the knife-like ridge of Monte Rosa, and
said he would not advise me to go, and that
they were lucky to come back safely. This
spurred me on, instead of deterring me ; and I
hurried after and overtook the Dutchman's party,
more than half-way across the Gorner Glacier.
I naturally thought the Dutchman a good
climber ; there was nothing to indicate the novice
about him, but I had not gone very far with him
before he began to place his feet on the thin ice
instead of the small hillocks of thick ice on the
Gorner Glacier. I was quite astonished but put
it down to carelessness, and so we landed at the
cabin. After early dinner we witnessed a lovely sun
set and turned in to prepare for bed. The Dutch-
44

More Difficult Climbs
man seemed to be anxious about the mountain,
and asked the guides and myself questions which
forced the fact on my mind that he was a novice.
I awoke a time or two during the seven hours'
sleep we allotted ourselves, but each time the
Dutchman was tossing about and could not get to
sleep. We prepared to start at two o'clock in the
morning. The weather was fine but very cold,
even for a September morning (that year 1899
was a rather early winter in the Alps). As we
started up the long slope of Monte Rosa the
Dutchman complained about the cold and put a
long overcoat on ; this was one of the things
which accounted for the very slow speed he
climbed at. We had not gone far before the frost
got hold of my toes, and I asked the guides to try
and quicken the pace, but they could not get the
Dutchman to go any quicker. They commenced
to pull him up. I expected him to get annoyed at
this and quicken his pace, but he seemed to like it.
I knew then we were in for a long journey before
we reached the highest summit of Monte Rosa,
Dufour Spitze, 15,217 feet, so I decided to make the
best of it. We took double the customary time to
climb the ice slope, but it taught me a lesson of
C 45

My Climbing Adventures
how to thoroughly enjoy the sunrise. I watched
one peak after another of that great circle of
mountains round Zermatt being lit up by the
morning tint, until the sun lit up the ridge of
Monte Rosa, and made the top of the slope we
were climbing very much warmer. We managed
to get the Dutchman along the ridge all right, but
when we commenced the knife-like ice ridge lead
ing up to Dufour Spitze summit, we had a most
risky time. The Dutchman seemed to have lost
all his will-power and, unable to climb at all, he
had to be pulled up, just raising his feet to place
them in the next ice step ; one time he was pulled
to his knees, and several times he looked to be on
the point of overbalancing himself. One side of
the ridge was the very steep ice slope leading to
the Gorner Glacier ; on the other side an almost
vertical rocky slope leading to the Italian side.
The drop on each side was 3000 to 4000 feet.
What a fool I felt taking this risk for the sake of
climbing Monte Rosa free. I had to act as a
porter, steering and steadying the Dutchman, while
the "mule-guides" did the tugging and hauling.
On one or two occasions I very nearly jumped
over the opposite side to that down which the
Dutchman seemed to be tumbling, and I constantly
46

More Difficult Climbs
took a glance over the ice edge to see if I could
pick a decent place to jump on. The slope seemed
very long, but we eventually landed on the top
quite safely ; then, to crown all, our Dutch friend
wanted to go to sleep on the top ridge ! I in
sisted upon taking him up with us rather than
turn back. We trudged on again with only the
ordinary difficulty of our load until we came to
the first chimney. The bottom of the chimney
overlooked the steep slope, and had to be climbed
into, round the base of out-jutting rocks. We
securely tied the Dutchman, the two guides
climbed to the top of the chimney, and I steered
while they hauled him up. This was about the
limit. Here was our Dutch friend, 5 ft. n in.
in height and about 12 stone, being pulled up like
a sack of flour by these two guides ; and they got
him to the top all right ; I climbed lit while they
had a rest on the top, and after proceeding some
little way we came to another chimney, which out-
jutted and overhung the broken glacier, 3000 feet
below. After the same preliminaries, the guides
climbed to the top of the chimney, but the Dutch
man jibbed, and it was some time before we could
persuade him to make for the base of the chimney.
I was in a helpless position. If the rope had
47

My Climbing Adventures
broken while scraping on the sharp rocks of the
chimney, the guides would have been secure, but
the Dutchman would have dropped to the bottom
of that mountain, and I would have been pulled with
him. I did not realise or think of this while on the
ascent. After the second chimney there were only
a few exposed rocks to scramble over, and we stood
on the highest summit of Monte Rosa, 15,217 feet.
Besides taking in the view of the Italian lakes
and hundreds of snow-capped peaks in all direc
tions, I built the cairn higher, after placing my card
under the rocks. The pole which stuck in the
middle had a large tin can on the top, and as we
could see some one on the snow slopes below,
I rattled the tin can on the pole ; but they did
not signal in any way, so I presumed they
could not hear. I secured one or two photos, but
my camera got out of order and prevented me
winding the film on, so some useful snap-shots
were lost. The Dutchman had a sleep on the
summit, and after about one hour of delightful
views we commenced the descent. I took the
lead down, and it only occurred to me what a
dangerous position I was in, as I stood on the
precipice at the edge of the first chimney, hanging
on by one hand to enable me to steer the Dutch-
48

B. HOLMES ON THE SUMMIT OF THE HIGHEST RIDGE OF
MONTE ROSA, 15,217 FEET ABOVE SEA LEVEL.

¦H

^*«i*#V^ Vv' |

>

¦ -*M

U10BJW II)

1

i

—

-*

M

¦¦:.'
2^.-^.
THE DUTCHMAN, AUTHOR, AND GUIDE (FROM LEFT TO
RIGHT) ON MONTE ROSA SLOPES.
To face p. 48.
More Difficult Climbs
man on to the ledge from the chimney. I felt
the chance of the rope being cut in the jagged,
rocky chimney. While waiting at the bottom of
the second chimney, I fastened the rope fairly
securely round an out-jutting rock. We hastened
down to the ice ridge, because it would have made
it much more dangerous if the sun went down,
and the steps on the ridge had a chance to freeze.
During the climb down, with the exception of our
friend sitting down a time or two and delaying our
progress, there was nothing specially dangerous,
and it was with light hearts we reached the first
ridge at the top of the final slope.
After going some distance along the ridge,
I suggested that we should glissade straight down,
but the Dutchman thought it much too steep.
He yielded to my persuasion, however, and
we slid down at a good speed until we got so
hopelessly mixed up that it stopped our progress.
Then it was arranged that I should take the
lead. The Dutchman was tied up with his long
overcoat on, one guide steered by a rope attached
to his waist and the other guide ran behind to
put the brake on. It was getting late, and I
was determined to sleep in Zermatt that night,
so I galloped down the slope as fast as I could.
49

My Climbing Adventures
The Dutchman liked it very much to start with,
but as we neared the bottom the snow was only
about 12 inches thick, and he rubbed it off and
was dragged over sharp edges of small cracks in
the ice ; he shouted out to stop, but before we
took notice of him and pulled up, the sharp,
edges of ice had cut a hole through his overcoat
and undercoat, etc. It hurt him very much, but
he was awakened fully for the first time since
we started the climb. Then he started scolding
the guides. I asked Joseph Binen, the Dutch
man's leading guide, why he took such risk.
Putting out his hand, as though taking a grip of
the Dutchman, he replied with a sneering sort
of smile, " He could not tumble, I had him."
He further explained that it was the Dutchman's
first climb, and they had been engaged for one
month on condition that they got him to the top
of Monte Rosa. If they had failed, it would most
probably have cut the engagement short, and
they would have lost a valuable month's pay. This
gave me an insight into the reason the ropes and
chains are fixed on the Matterhorn, and the reason
why helpless men and women and rucksacks
reach the summit of some of the highest mountains
in the Alps. It is a surprising thing that although
50

More Difficult Climbs
there must be a large number of narrow escapes
on the Alps, owing to the inability of climbers,
one never hears about them. On the other hand,
the mountain is generally made out to be easier
than it really is by the individual who wants to
make out how clever he is.
Alpine climbing is a form of competition amongst
the 20,000 or 30,000 climbers in Europe, to see who
is the best man in the following way : certain peaks
require a certain amount of skill, and as there are
many degrees of difficulty to be overcome, according
to the mountain, it is only a very select few who are
able to climb the most difficult of the Alps. There are
other climbers who may differ with me, and pretend
that they think too much of the mountains to allow
any kind of competition to enter into such a noble
craft, yet they will invariably say, So-and-so must
be a first-class climber, he has climbed the Grepon,
Aiguille des Grands Charmoz, or some other first-
class peak. From my knowledge of Alpine
climbers, in different parts of the world, I believe
that they are inspired to the best climbs because
they feel and know that the " climb is the measure
of the man." That is why the novice makes little
of climbs which he has probably climbed with
very great risk. si

My Climbing Adventures
I asked the Dutchman to excuse me, as I
wanted to be in Zermatt for dinner, and I made
very much better progress after leaving him.
Running across the glacier and up the path to
the Gorner Grat Station, I was just in time to
catch the mountain train, and arrived back for
late dinner in Zermatt. The Dutchman and his
guides stayed at the mountain hut that night, and
came on to Zermatt the following day, none the
worse for his adventure.

52

CHAPTER III
EXTRAORDINARY ROCK CLIMBS — CLIMBING WALNUT
TREE " MATTERHORN " — ILAM ROCK CLIMB, DOVE-
DALE, DERBYSHIRE
I RETURNED to England, after that Monte
Rosa climb, fully determined to have some
practice on rocks. The way that Joseph Binen
had climbed Monte Rosa, hauling up the Dutchman,
made it plain to me that it was possible to develop
rock- and ice-climbing ability which would make
a difficult mountain easy. I had been lucky, or
unlucky, enough to have had my last two climbs
under most adverse conditions, which had taught
me more than I might have learned in a dozen
uneventful climbs ; but I felt that I could make
myself more capable by practising detailed rock
climbing on any piece of rock where I could climb
high enough for a fall to prove fatal. I climbed
cliffs along the South Wales side of the Bristol
Channel, outside Penarth, where I lived then.
One day I took train to Walnut Tree Station,
with the intention of walking over the Garth
S3

My Climbing Adventures
Mountain, but I saw some splendid rock climbs
inside an old disused stone quarry, and I asked
my wife to excuse me, while I tried one or two of
them. The following Saturday afternoon I took
a friend with me, and did the main climb, which
was up the side of a piece of rock about 200 feet
from the ground. To climb off the top it was
necessary to climb down on some overhanging
rocks. It made an exceptionally good miniature-
rock climb, and I mentioned it to a friend of
mine, Mr J. J. Neale, President of the Cardiff
Naturalist Society. In a few days he asked me
more about it, and declared that a Mr Thompson,
an Alpine-climbing friend of his, of Penarth, in
the company of two other gentlemen had climbed
this rock ; but they had rope, boots, and were
all roped together ; even with these helps they
had found it very difficult, therefore he doubted
my story about having climbed it by myself. I
arranged with Mr J. J. Neale and his friend
Thompson to come with me the following Saturday,
so that I could prove that I had climbed it, by
climbing it again. We arrived at Walnut Tree
Station, but had to wait for it to stop raining ; and
by the time I was ready to climb we had a crowd
of sightseers, including some quarrymen. I had
54

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
climbed half up the most difficult way when a
quarryman said he would be on the top before me.
He scrambled up the smooth part of the rock,
which was at an angle of about 40 degrees, his
only help being tufts of thick grass growing in
the cracks and the weather-beaten holes in the
rock, and he quickly reached the top.
I felt rather taken down, as I had a reputation
to uphold as a quick climber, and when I reached
the top I expected to see him climbing down
successfully, but the unfortunate quarryman was
standing at the bottom of the quarry, his face
bleeding badly.
Then Mr J. J. Neale shouted to me, and
begged me not to climb down that way, because
the quarryman had tumbled off the rock, and
they had thought he had killed himself. There
was a ridge about 20 feet from the top, and he
had fallen on that ridge in a lucky way, and on to
the sloping bottom of the quarry by the merest
good luck ; if he had overbalanced on to the other
side of the quarry bottom, 200 feet down, he would
have been flattened out and have broken every
bone in his body.
I was very eager to try and get level with
the quarryman, who had made me feel small,
ss

My Climbing Adventures
so therefore I replied to Mr Neale that I could
climb it easily enough and in safety too. I
climbed down the overhanging part until I came
to where it dipped under ; then I climbed out on
to the vertical wall, which had the 200-feet drop,
to hand- and foot-holds I had previously discovered,
and just as I stood there a thought occurred to me
that I would balance a piece of long grass or twig
on my nose, and hang on to the vertical wall at
the same time. I found a suitable piece near at
hand, and was lucky in getting perfectly calm
atmosphere ; I balanced it on my nose for about
twenty-five seconds. Then turning to the crowd,
I explained that I was not only climbing the rock,
but I was climbing it safely, and that any one might
rush the climb, but they invariably came to a sad
and untimely end. I finished the climb in safety.
The balancing of the twig or long grass made
a very great impression on Mr J. J. Neale,
and he talked about it for two or three years
afterwards. The story was " How I got level with
the quarryman," and gave a climbing lecture to a
crowd of people while hanging on to a vertical wall.
Mr Thompson was highly satisfied, and presented
me with a copy of the Climbers Club Journal, in
which he had written a long article, explaining the
56

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
climb and showing a photograph of the Garth
stone quarry, with the rock standing up in the
middle.

The Walnut Tree " Matterhorn " Climb.
By Mr J. J. Neale, J.P., of Penarth.
I have been asked to write a short account of this
climb : —
At the village of Walnut Tree, some seven miles
from Cardiff, there is an old quarry. In the centre
of it there has been left, for some reason, a mass of
rock which, from its shape and no doubt through the
difficulty of climbing it, has been called locally the
Walnut Tree " Matterhorn." This has been a
favourite place in recent times for good climbers
to practise upon before going to Switzerland and
elsewhere. It had never been (before our visit)
known to have been climbed single-handed. I
believe once or twice it had been negotiated by
climbers roped together.
Mr S. Turner asked me if I would go with him
and see him try it single-handed. I consented, and
asked Mr Peter Thompson, one of the best climbers
in the country, to accompany me.
57

My Climbing Adventures
The Saturday afternoon had been wet, and for
hand-work I thought it risky for Mr Turner to
attempt, but he decided to try it. For a long time
he made very little progress — so little, in fact, that
Mr Thompson and I considered he was not going to
succeed. While we were watching him, two men,
dressed like labourers, came to look. One of them
was an Irishman, and he at once said he could climb
it better than Mr Turner. He had evidently been
drinking by his manner. He at once commenced
the climb, and quickly passed Mr Turner and went
towards the farther end, which was the difficult point,
by which to descend. He completely left Mr
Turner, and we lost sight of him.
I said to Mr Thompson, " I believe that Irish
man is going to try to descend from the peak down
the perpendicular side." He thought, with me, that
he would scarcely be so foolhardy, but we both
decided to walk round and see.
Just as we got there, we saw him attempting to
descend, and knew that it was impossible, from his
position, to do so safely. Just at that moment he
fell, struck the cliff in his fall, and bounded out
and fell on the rocky ground at the bottom. We
ran up, expecting to find him killed, or at least
badly injured, but he was neither. He was cut
58

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
about the face and bleeding a little, but apparently
the Providence which often protects foolhardy
people had protected him.
In the meantime Turner had reached the top of
the ridge, and asked where the Irishman was. We
told him to go back, for as the Irishman had fallen,
we thought it might unnerve Turner. He declined
to do so. The Irishman looked up at Turner and
shouted, " Sure I could climb up and down again
another time before ye." In spite of the taunt, we
again asked Turner not to attempt it, but he insisted
on trying. Turner then carefully, and with the utmost
coolness, commenced the descent. When he got to
the most difficult part of the descent, he pulled a
stem of a dead plant from a crevice in the cliff, and
standing upon one leg he balanced the stem perfectly
upright upon his nose, and at the same time called
out to the Irishman, " Can you do that ? " This
latest feat astonished even the Irishman ; he
was speechless, tacitly admitted his defeat and
went away. Turner then resumed his de
scent and reached the ground without the least
mishap. In explanation of the feat of balancing the stem
on his nose, we afterwards found that Mr Turner
was an expert at that sort of thing. I must say
59

My Climbing Adventures
it looked like bravado, but it impressed the Irishman
more than anything."
Shortly after this I read an article in the Pall
Mall Magazine, illustrated by those famous English
rock-climbers, the Brothers Abraham. Ker Knotts
chimney and crack were supposed to be the hardest
climbs in the English climbing district, so I took a
special journey, with a copy of this valued magazine
in my pocket, and not being able to get any climber
to risk his neck with me, I took the hotel pro
prietor and the copy of the magazine, and climbed
the Ker Knotts chimney alone in the rain.
After this it rained all day and night, keeping
all the climbers indoors, so two or three of us did
the barn-door traverse, that is, up the edge of a
barn wall and across it into the barn door. By this
time I found that I could not pass any piece of rock
high enough for one to kill oneself on without look
ing for a possible route up it, and I climbed every
wall, cliff, and even up to fix the weathercock in
Trinity Church, Penarth.
My next amusing episode occurred when I climbed
the Watch Tower, or Ham Rock, Dovedale, Derby
shire. My friend Holmes was not the famous
Sherlock Holmes, but he was a genius in detect-
60

ILAM ROCK, DOVEDALE, DERBYSHIRE.

To face p. 60.

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
ing the way through holes and caves all through
Derbyshire ; and after his climb of Monte Rosa he
detected a climb which he thought I alone was the
man to unravel. I journeyed to Alsop-in-the-Dale,
Station, near Buxton, Derbyshire, and by his assist
ance and that of the Rev. A. Wallaker of Buxton,
we managed to get a rope over, but could not make
it secure enough on the other side to be any use.
After this I climbed a little way up the rock, and
it encouraged me, by letting a lump of limestone (of
which it is composed) drop on my head, raising a
big lump.
I came down, feeling rather seedy, and we ad
journed to the hut at the foot of this rock to take
what lunch the old man caretaker could give us.
Dovedale is a pleasure place, and it was Bank
Holiday, with plenty of trippers about, so while we
were having lunch the old gentleman commenced
to talk about this most attractive piece of rock, the
Ham Rock.
He said : " That rock is over 200 feet high, from
the River Dove at its foot. It has no place for
anybody to get hold of to climb it, and it is quite
vertical and overhanging in some places. There
have been hundreds of parties trying to climb it, but
they have never succeeded, and never will. The top
d 61

My Climbing Adventures
of that rock is the place where the birds of Dovedale
fly when they want to die, and it is covered by the
skeletons of birds." He continued : " There are
some men trying to climb it again to-day, but they
will hurt themselves, like many more before them."
My companions interrupted the old gentleman by
roaring with laughter, when I placed my hand on
the big lump on my head.
We adjourned from lunch and I went at the
climb with more determination than ever. I had
previously not known it was such a difficult problem,
or that many people had attempted it ; but now I
was sure, and Holmes also told me of some Alpine
Club men who had given it up as impossible.
After carefully climbing the rock by the slowest
and safest way possible, I got myself wedged into
an overhanging chimney, the climax to the climb.
As luck would have it, I was the exact fit to wedge
myself into this crack, but it was such an awkward
crack that it required all the strength I could exert
to keep myself wedged tightly in and wriggle up in
snail-like movements. The crack was only 40 feet
long, but it took me about an hour to get to the top ;
then I almost slipped off the rock as I crawled out
at the top. I was absolutely winded as I sat on the
top of the lowest side of the rock.
62

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
The crowd down below gave me a great cheer,
but the old man was in the crowd, and did not agree
that his famous rock was climbed until I got to the
other end, which was higher. The rock was about
2 feet wide at the very top, then it suddenly slanted
out to about 8 feet thick, and the middle to the base
of the rock was about 12 to 20 feet thick. It was
blowing very hard, but I would not crawl on hands
and knees, and it required very careful walking to
get to the other end. When I did reach there I found
it was overhanging. I stood up on the edge, and
the trippers who had cameras took photographs of
me and again cheered. This was the only time I
climbed to the applause of the crowd. Carefully
turning round I walked back over bones of birds
and hawks as the old man had said, and after
leaving a penny on the top under a stone and my
name on some paper for the next climber, I
began the descent. By this time a Sunday-
school choir-party were singing hymns at the
base underneath the overhanging crack. As I
climbed down the crack I found it all I could do
to prevent myself tumbling out. If I had done
so, I don't think I would have killed myself, but
the chap singing, "Abide with me" below would
have had a shock. 63

My Climbing Adventures
I consider the Ham Rock climb more difficult
than any Cumberland climb.
This climb was gazetted in all the papers in the
north of England. It is a well-known piece of rock,
and of the most extraordinary formation, so that it
is known all over Derbyshire. That climb was six
years ago, but nobody has made a second climb
although there have been numerous attempts by
well-equipped parties. Two of my friends were in
that district last year, and paid a visit to this rock,
and asked the old hut-keeper if any one had ever
climbed the Ilam Rock. He said: " Nobody except
Sam Turner has ever climbed to the top of yond
rock."

Ilam Rock Climb
By Mr A. B. Holmes, Member of the Derbyshire Pennine Club.
I have had several expeditions with Mr Samuel
Turner, whom I consider one of the finest rock-
climbers and mountaineers of the present day.
In Switzerland I was present both at the com
mencement and conclusion of his record climb of
the Matterhorn, with guides Tangwald and Ber-
gener. He made, in the opinion of local experts at
64

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
Zermatt, a record ascent from the Hotel Monte
Rosa to the summit of the Matterhorn. I met him
on his return journey, when I found him in splendid
condition. After his ascent of the Matterhorn, I had the
same guides for the ascent of Monte Rosa.
Mr Turner promised to meet me near the Gorner
Glacier on my return.
He kept his word, and whilst we were in con
versation about the incidents of my journey, another
party of two guides and a Dutchman came by, and
the Dutchman asked Mr Turner to accompany
their expedition. He was wholly unprepared, and
had no climbing outfit with him. However, after
I warned him of the dangerous condition of the
ice ridge on the Dufour Spitze (the highest of the
seven peaks of Monte Rosa), and the fact that the
Dutchman was an inexperienced climber, he yet
essayed to venture, and quickly borrowing one or
two necessaries from myself, he proceeded on his
climb of the second highest European peak.
I was delighted to welcome Mr Turner again,
eighteen hours afterwards, at the hotel in splendid
condition after his exciting experiences, he pre
viously having climbed the Matterhorn three days
before. 65

My Climbing Adventures
I have also had experience, along with a
ministerial friend, of the climbing powers of Mr
Turner in Derbyshire.
On August Bank Holiday, in the year 1903, a
party of three visited that charming retreat on the
borders of Derbyshire and Staffordshire, — viz.,
Dovedale. I had mentioned to Mr Turner that
the famous Ilam Rock had never been climbed,
although on several occasions it had been attacked
by expert and venturesome rock climbers.
The situation at once appealed to him, and as
before mentioned a party of three determined to
conquer this impregnable rock, if it was possible for
man to do it.
The day was very windy, although fine, and
Dovedale was looking at its best in the height of
summer. The Ilam Rock rises practically perpendicular
from the edge of the stream, its inhospitable sides
offering few footholds and little or no vegetation.
A rope was after some time got over the top,
and Mr Turner commenced foot by foot on his
perilous climb.
Crowds had in the meantime assembled in the
valley below, and watched breathlessly the progress
of Mr Turner. The onlookers were more than
66

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
surprised to find that the expert climber was
practically not using the rope; and how he
kept progressing higher yet higher was a marvel
to all. A slight crack near the top gave him an oppor
tunity for a brief rest, by clinging with both hands
to the sides of the limestone, whilst he had only a
slender and delicate foothold.
Inch by inch he gradually climbed, until, to the
surprise of all, he appeared on the top, and immedi
ately walked on the very narrow edge of the rock
to the overhanging end, below which the River
Dove flowed.
Thus for the first time in history this magnifi
cent perpendicular rock was climbed, and the
descent made in little under two hours — an achieve
ment which has never since been accomplished
though often attempted, owing to the loose
character of the limestone formation and the
shattered and worn crag, more especially the
higher portions. I consider this one of Mr Turner's
greatest climbs of its kind, which I predict will
stand "a record" for a long time.
On again reaching terra firma and proceeding
across the bridge to the Derbyshire side of the
valley, the climber was cheered by a large holiday
67

My Climbing Adventures
crowd, which had gathered and had witnessed the
"daring exploit."
The Manchester Guardian, Chronicle and
Evening News on the day after contained refer
ences to the incident, and it was also widely re
ported in the general press of the country.
These miniature-rock climbs may not interest
the average Alpine climber, but there have sprung
up all over England and Scotland rucksack
ramblers and climbers' clubs, who climb anything
worth climbing. These clubs, in some cases, have
500 and 600 members, and miniature-rock climbs
are what they thrive on. A friend informed me
of a club at Cambridge University, which not
only does all possible miniature-rock climbs, but
tackles walls, church-steeples, and every possible
place climbable. If Darwin were alive now, he
would find in these University students one more
of his marvellous coincidences, similar to those
coincidences in life upon which he built up the
theory of evolution. He would, no doubt, reason
that the climbing instinct in man and monkey
alike proves that for some time after the supposed
change from monkey to man, both monkey and
man climbed ; until man, becoming the intelligent
68

Extraordinary Rock Climbs
being, left the forest, so that he would not have
to constantly climb trees out of the way of
serpents, lions, and other hungry wild beasts of
the forest. As a natural consequence of man not
using his tail, it gradually became shorter and
shorter, and before he grew out of the habit of
constantly sitting his tail wore off, and now he
rides, bicycles, motors, sits on chairs and in the
House of Lords and Commons so long pondering
over Tariff Reform, that his tail has no chance
to grow again. He would probably wind up his
concluding remarks on this theory by stating that
the climbing instinct in man is only a recurrence
of the habit of his forefathers. I believe that the
present-day climbers climb miniature-rock climbs
that no monkey could climb, because of the simple
reason that the monkey could not find places to
bring his invaluable tail into play. These minia
ture-rock climbs are the very best practice one
can get, if high mountains are to be climbed in
safety ; because it is the little bit of difficult rock
that causes accidents or cheats the otherwise
successful climber out of the final success of the
climb.

69

CHAPTER IV
south to north traverse of aiguille des charmoz
pinnacle, the most dangerous rock climb in
switzerland — the attempt on aiguille du
dru — snowstorm — tour of mont blanc.
THE Aiguilles of the Mont Blanc group are
the most fitting for a rock climb of the
first degree of danger and difficulty, and I think
you will agree with me when you have read my
description of the first traverse of the Aiguille
des Charmoz pinnacles from south to north.
I invited Mr A. H. Binns of Sunderland to
climb with me, because he was the record holder
for the Matterhorn before I beat it. We
journeyed to Chamonix in August (the best
month for rock climbing) in 1901. We engaged
Joseph Couttet and Francois Mugnier as guide
and porter for a week's climbing in the mountains,
staying at the Mountainrest. I wished to do
the same as other climbers, who manage to climb
a number of peaks in a short time by making
the base of their operations at as high a mountain
70

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AUTHOR'S PARTY AND AIGUILLE DES CHARMOZ IN
THE DISTANCE.
SUMMIT OF AIGUILLE DES CHARMOZ AND GRETON, WITH
AIGUILLE DU GEANT IN DISTANCE.
Dangerous Swiss Climbs
chalet or hut as they can get. We intended re
turning to the Mountainrest after our first climb,
and climbing other peaks from there. We started
on a rainy day, trusting that the weather would
clear up. These Aiguille-tipped peaks are at the
end of the Mont Blanc group, overlooking the
Mer-de-Glace, which polishes the rocks at their
base 5000 feet below. The summit, 11,293 feet
above sea-level, seen from many points, seems to
be a sharp needle of rock, but on close inspection
is really a long serrated crest, or ridge, with many
sharp towers poised on the ridge. There are
ten important pinnacles, some terminating in
actual spikes, like church-steeples, others having
large blocks poised on the top, as though a
strong gust of wind would blow them off. We
intended to traverse these pinnacles — that is, to
climb up one side and down the other side of
each pinnacle. The usual climb is the highest
pinnacle, the Aiguille des Charmoz, first ascended
in 1880 by the late A. F. Mummery. The
traverse from north to south was first accomplished
in 1885, but the south to north had hitherto
been looked upon as unclimbable by fair means ;
and the climb, so far as I was able to discover,
was never mentioned in any guide-book. This
71

My Climbing Adventures
new climb was a special attraction to us. If you
will look well at the panoramic view, it will enable
you to follow our movements and gain a good
idea of the exposed nature of the pinnacles.
We soon arrived at the Plan des Aiguilles, a
lofty plateau which overlooks the valley of
Chamonix (at the base of a whole regiment of
Aiguilles), to rest for the night. The hut is quite
up to the average of mountain huts, and is the
one place to start for any peak that feeds the
Nantillon Glacier.
After dinner the weather looked anything but
promising, and as we stood in the doorway the
light of the lamp reflected our shadows very large
on the clouds which were beneath us. We decided
to make a start at 2 a.m., but waited until three
for the misty clouds to clear away. Our route
was a very rough one, and we had to pick our
way by the aid of a lantern. We soon rose above
the clouds and welcomed the first sign of dawn,
bringing peak after peak out of dark slumber to
life and sparking brightness. You must picture
the Nantillon Glacier crawling down between peaks
about 300 feet higher than the Mer-de-Glace, at
a height of about 9000 feet above sea-level. It
forms a highway to the base of the Aiguille des
72

A. H. BINNS FALLS INTO A CREVASSE.
(Author photographed him before pulling him out.)

A. H. BINNS POSES FOR AUTHOR TO PHOTOGRAPH 5,000 FEET ABOVE MER
DE GLACE, SEEN BELOW.

To face p. 7z.

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
Charmoz. Picking our way up the centre of the
glacier, we crossed quite a quantity of fresh-fallen
snow and ice, which had apparently just plunged
over a precipice 500 feet of a sheer drop. We
turned by the ice fall to the right, and passed
very close to a number of overhanging seVacs,
which seemed to be in doubt whether to tumble
or not. The whole glacier centre does its best to
smash itself into pieces, by trying to crawl down
a small precipice ending in a terrific plunge on
to the glacier below.
With very little step-cutting we were soon
crossing the last crevasses, and came to a Berg-
schrund, where the glacier had not been fed
by snow and ice from the rocks, and had
left a crack between the rocks and ice on
about an equal slope to the rocks. Luckily, we
found a snow-bridge, which made it easy to gain
the rocks, and then we were on the base of the
actual peak, the Aiguille de Chamonix. Turning
to the left, we worked up steep rocks for an hour :
only one or two slabs gave us any trouble. Once
my friend gripped a piece of rock which was
loose, and it nearly came away with him ; and
so we reached the top of the secondary ridge
which abuts against the final cliff of the mountain.
73

My Climbing Adventures
The rocks here were particularly steep. We
had to climb round sheer precipices, moving one
at a time from one scanty ledge to another. On
most mountains — even the Matterhorn — you rarely
meet vertical precipices, but on the Aiguille des
Charmoz and Grepon, they are absolutely vertical,
with only cracks and ledges of the scantiest de
scription to climb round or up.
For the benefit of the non - climber, I may
explain that chimneys are aptly-named formations,
which provide the only way up the needle-tipped
peaks. They usually take the shape of fissures
in the rock, varying from 3 to 20 feet in
depth, and 3 to 4 feet in width. If a
layer of bricks could be built on the outside of
a mountain chimney, they would form the shape
of an ordinary tall or factory chimney. The
art of chimney-climbing is difficult, but there is no
place on a rock climb where the expert is at home
more, and where more wonderful acrobatic feats can
be performed. A broad chimney is climbed with
feet on one side and back on the other ; but, if
narrow enough, it is climbed by one leg and one
arm on each side of the crack. The last of our
chimney work led us up to a dome-shaped rock,
which seemed to divide the two extreme peaks.
74

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
This was one of the most interesting. It was
possible to lie on the left side, with the left
shoulder and half the back jammed against it,
with the knees on the slanting rock.
Our movements were naturally very slow ; but
this only lasted a few minutes, and we came to the
narrow ridge which overhangs the Mer-de-Glace,
and separates the two peaks of the south end of the
Charmoz. You will notice that the whole of the ridge is
called the Aiguille des Charmoz, but the peak of
that name is the highest one of the whole ridge,
and it stands almost alone. It is sometimes called
the Grepon. This is a mistake, because the Grepon
is the next peak further along the ridge, divided
by a huge chasm, and is quite as difficult as
the Charmoz peak itself, but not so difficult as the
whole of the Charmoz pinnacles, including the
Chamonix taken all in one climb.
We scrambled up on to the summit of the
Charmoz at 8.45 a.m. ; but as only two of us could
get on to it at once, Mr Binns and the porter
climbed on to the next lower peak. I shouted for
Binns to stand on the edge of an out-jutting
pinnacle, little thinking it would nearly cost him his
life. As he put his ice-axe on the most out -jutting
75

My Climbing Adventures
part, in order to steady himself for the next step,
the large stone toppled over, and he only just re
gained his balance. I took a snapshot of him from
the summit before he stepped off this uncertain
stand. The photo came out showing the depths of
the Chamonix valley, and the river running down
9000 feet below ; also the glacier, somewhat hidden
from view by clouds beneath us. We joined our
companions, and proceeded to the next pinnacle.
This was a rock wall, 30 to 40 feet high, about
20 feet broad, with the right side overhanging the
Mer-de-Glace 5000 feet below, the left side over
looking an abyss of about 2000 feet.
The only chance of climbing it was by a crack,
which appeared to split it in two from its summit,
but the entrance to this welcome crack was over
looking a drop of about 2000 feet. Once on the
top of this, Mugnier climbed round the rock, his
hand gripped the edge, and immediately after
wards vanished, and the porter followed, but got
too far in the crack, and became handicapped by
the rucksack on his back. I climbed it more on
the outside like the guide, and Binns used the
same tactics, and so a very ugly-looking climb was
overcome. The crack opened wider the further it went in,
76

"IS IT POSSIBLE ?"
(Author climbing round overhanging precipices on the Aiguille des Charmoz.)

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
with sides of smooth weather-beaten granite, which
accounted for the difficulty. We rested for a
while on the ridge to admire the view.
We stood under a deep blue sky, almost cloud
less ; what few clouds there were only helped to
intensify the beautiful scenery. We were standing
on a mountain with the sharpest and most difficult
of peaks or pinnacles that could possibly be worn
on rock. These pinnacles are composed of
crystalline granite, and this kind of rock is
capable of being weather-worn and frost-split to
a finer point than any other kind of rock ; and
these enemies of the mountain had done their
work almost to perfection. I cannot remember
all the struggles with complicated cracks, fissures,
chimneys and precipices clearly enough to describe
them ; but we seemed to be constantly facing
apparently impossible climbs, and no sooner had
we finished feeling delight by our skill in con
quering one obstacle than we were studying how
to overcome another problem quite as difficult. I
have chosen for description those climbs which
made the most impression on me. These pinnacles
are the most extreme contrast to Mont Blanc, which
towered above us. In the distance, the Grandes
Jorasses group made a specially beautiful photograph,
e 77

My Climbing Adventures
aided by the clouds clustering round them. Very
distant peaks were not visible, owing to clouds. It
is a sheer drop of 5000 feet to the Mer-de-Glace,
and it looks 10,000, because the rocks are void of
snow. On the Charmoz itself two of us had lunch,
sitting quietly on a 2 -feet by 6-feet summit, but the
summits of other pinnacles were too small to allow
more than one at a time, and only by careful work
at that. The next and sharpest pinnacle on the traverse
is about 6 feet round at its base, with a top of
about 18 inches square, and 16 feet from ridge to
top and next to no hand-holes. (The hand-holes on
Napes Needle, in Cumberland, one of the English
needle-tipped miniature-rock climbs are like steps
and stairs compared with this pinnacle.) By the
aid of Mugnier I scaled the top of it ; but it was
not necessary for the whole party to follow. Time
was going, so we hurried on, and came face to face
with a perpendicular three - cornered slab, about
30 feet high. It took us ten minutes trying
•different ways to find out how to overcome this
apparently impregnable obstacle. Mugnier tried
to climb up by our help, but failed. I held the
porter's hand while he looked round on the
precipice ; and we each did a bit of looking for
78

AUTHOR CLIMBING AWKWARD PINNACLE WITH ROUND TOP,
MAKING USE OF ONLY FOOTHOLE.

PORTER MISSES HIS FOOTING AND DANGLES OVER 5,000
FEET OF PRECIPICE. /

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
cracks or possible grips. Then Mugnier, equal
to the occasion, climbed along to the corner which
was overhanging the Nantillon Glacier, and, after a
pause, took more rope and vanished, still holding
on to the corner. The hand disappeared, and the
rope tightened for me to follow. When I got to
the edge, and was able to look round the corner,
I was surprised to see the face of the rock at an
angle of about 80 degrees, on which a 2 -inch
foothole was the help across the precipice to the
ridge 4 to 5 feet away. Striding round and bring
ing my body after, I had to pull against the corner
with my right hand, press against the weather-
beaten rock with my hand and clothes, and placing
my cheek on the rock as additional leverage, I had
to transfer my right foot into the crack where my
left foot was. Then I carefully steadied myself
balanced in the foothole, and jumped over space
to the ridge 4 to 5 feet away. (It may seem tame
to describe, but it took about five of the most care
ful minutes of my life.) A tooth of rock on the
ledge gave me something to grip ; at the same time
I had a flash view of the glacier below. The
porter took the jump safely after a lot of slow,
careful climbing, then my friend Binns' turn came.
He treated the climb with respect enough, and
79

My Climbing Adventures
took it all right, until he rested with his left leg on
the crack. He paused quite a while, and then
jumped without changing his legs, his right leg
making him face the precipice too much for a
good jump. The next few seconds were full of
suspense ; he missed landing on the ledge with
his feet, but seemed to fall on the rock. His
left hand had been pulled off by the weight of
his falling body, and his right was going when we
pulled him on to the ledge, doubled in two ; if he
had got 2 -feet start he would have broken the
rope or pulled us with him, as we had the rope
wound round the tooth of rock. We sat for a
few minutes thinking "what might have been,"
but before the incident laid hold of us seriously
we were scrambling along the narrow ridge,
tackling another pinnacle about 25 to 30 feet
high. We all three held the rope while the guide
did some risky work to get round and up on to
the top.
Three of us would have held him had he
slipped ; but for the second man to have followed
would have been unsafe. He luckily found a coil
of rope just below that pinnacle, left by some one
who had come the opposite direction to the one
we were going. This rope was placed over the
80

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
pinnacle, and it gave additional moral support
while climbing this rock, as there was only one
crack half-way up for a foothold. The top was
round like a dome, and gave us a lot of trouble at
the most inconvenient moment. Most of these
pinnacles could not be climbed with rucksacks on,
and they were too steep to enable us to use our
ice-axes, so we always lowered them off the
pinnacles or pulled them up after us. This was
the only breathing time we had during most of
the six hours we were climbing on those pinnacles.
The spare piece of rope which we found on the
rocks came in very handy on this pinnacle. We
placed it over the top, and lowered ourselves hand
over hand, sticking to the two ends of the rope.
After lowering myself for about 10 feet it went
over a sharp out-jutting ledge, and it was necessary
to take a very wide grip to get past, then the feet
dangled in mid-air until a footing could be groped
for and found by the feet. I had found the rope
rather shaky, so held it for the others until the
porter nearly lowered himself on my head. After
accepting the ice-axes lowered to me, I scrambled
along a narrow ledge. We rounded another square
pinnacle of rock, and came to the top of a broad
chimney. At last we had finished the pinnacles.

My Climbing Adventures
Neither of us had been on the Charmoz before,
and that made it much more difficult, and gave us
all the climbing we wanted, taking pieces out of
our hands and legs, besides plenty of skin. The
Charmoz peak itself was first climbed by the late
A. F. Mummery in 1880 ; the traverse from north to
south in 1885, and again in 1887 by Wick's party,
who made a slight variation ; but the traverse from
south to north was left to my party to accomplish.
The climb by the route we took would be quite
impossible in frosty weather. We found a slab of
rock jutting out over the entrance to the chimney,
and some thinner rope than the one we found was
wound round this rock four times, and cut off near
the knot, showing that the party had used it to pull
themselves up with.
Before we started to climb this chimney we
examined the rope we had found, but it proved to
be too weather-beaten and weak to use on this
climb, so we untied ourselves, and with the end
tied round me I reached the bottom of the chimney
before unroping. I stood on a broad ledge covered
with snow, and helped the others to find the scanty
footholes near the bottom, Mugnier coming down
last. After throwing the middle of the rope over
the rock and taking the loose ends, he lowered
82

AUTHOR'S PARTY CLIMBING CRACK ON CHARMOZ PRECIPICES.

A. H. BINNS CLIMBING A CRACK, AIGUILLE DES CHARMOZ.
(Photo b}' Author.)

To I'ace p. S>.

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
himself hand over hand to the best part of
the chimney, then he pulled the rope down
by one end and let it drop to the bottom
of the chimney. On another climb I
found Mugnier's method of pulling the rope
after him (after going down hand over hand
sticking to two ends) very useful at a most
critical time climbing down the precipices of
Mount Cook, but this is related later. We had
plenty of rock to climb down but nothing worth
special record. The Nantillon Glacier was a
dangerous hard blue near the rocks and more
difficult than up the centre. A Mr Binns, my
friend's namesake, had lost his life on this glacier
some time previous, when it was in a similar
condition, so we were very cautious for some time
until we reached rocks again some distance down
the glacier, where we had placed our rucksacks in
the early morning. While we enjoyed lunch, we
looked up at the overhanging ledges and huge
precipices which we had used to enable us to
conquer the mountain. These precipices will keep
the novice from reaching the Aiguille de Charmoz
ridge, and make even the best guides proud of
being able to climb them.
We hurried down to the Mountainrest Hotel,
83

My Climbing Adventures
and over dinner a party of climbers expressed
themselves astonished at our having started for
the pinnacles in such bad weather. At the time
we started they had been weather-bound, and had
not done any climbing for two or three weeks.
A party consisting of two men and three guides
made an attempt on the lower end, or Chamonix
side of the Charmoz ridge the following day ; and
this time it was my turn to see climbers through
the telescope. I called my friend Binns' attention
to the way one of the climbers was swinging on
the rope and making desperate attempts to regain
his footing on the rock, finally to be hauled up on
to the ridge by his two guides. The second
climber did very little better, and caused us some
amusement. The sight quietened a tourist who, the previous
night at dinner, had said he did not see why he
should not be able to engage guides at eight or
nine francs a day to help him to place his feet on
"peaks that had never been trod." Until he saw
those men dangling over precipices he said he had
no idea of the work that was necessary successfully
to accomplish a first-rate peak. He evidently had
the idea, like many people, that it is just a walk up
a gradual slope to the summit, and they cannot
84

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
see anything in it. But this is not the case, and
if it was, real climbers would not see anything in
it either.

ATTEMPT ON THE AIGUILLE DU MIDI AND
TOUR OF MONT BLANC
My next journey was to climb the Aiguille du
Midi (returning to the hut Refugio Torino on the
Italian side of the Col du Geant) and climb the
Aiguille du Geant. We started early after a day's
rest, and picked our way over the slopes of the
Aiguille des Charmoz up the side of the Mer-de-
Glace by the aid of the lantern and on to the
middle of the Glacier du Geant. From here the
weather looked doubtful, and we had about three
hours picking our way through all kinds of
seracs and crevasses, and rested for lunch near
the top of the glacier. We made for the Italian
side of the Aiguille du Midi, and climbed some
little way up its base, when we were enveloped
in a snowstorm, causing us to hurry off the peak
and make for the hut as best we could. We had
a monotonous journey over snow-covered crevasses,
and we seemed to take it in turns to tumble into
85

My Climbing Adventures
them ; but it did nothing more than keep us awake.
In the warm mist that had taken the place of the
snowstorm we arrived at the Refugio Torino,
where we spent the night, hoping to climb the
Aiguille du Geant from there if it cleared up the
next day. The weather, however, became hope
less, and it was impossible to get back to
Chamonix over the Glacier du Geant. We decided
to make the tour of Mont Blanc up the Valley
Alle Blanche and over the Col du Mont Tondu.
We passed the Italian army encamped in the
valley, and the band playing music which echoed
in the Alps. Later on a regiment was at target
practice ; and they kept a crowd of English tourists
and climbers, including Mrs and Mr Inglis Clark
of Scotland, waiting at the top of the pass out of
the danger-line. They were quite a milel away
from the line of fire, and they concluded that' any
nearer would be dangerous, although the regiment
were shooting across Lake Combal and the path
was the opposite side. We rested one night at
the base of the Col du Mont Tondu, and climbed that
pass and a peak near it and then down the glacier.
Half-way down, Binns fell into a crevasse up to
the waist, and I took a snapshot of him. Then
I moved away about 5 yards to be close to
86

Dangerous Swiss Climbs
the guide, in order to pull on the rope together.
When we pulled Binns out of the crevasse the
snow gave way up to quite close to our feet ; and
revealed that I had taken his photograph while
standing on a snow - bridge which covered a
crevasse broad and deep enough to swallow a
dozen men.
Hurrying down the glacier and back to St
Gervais, we took train back to Chamonix, after
being five days away.
After we ascended Col des Grands Montets,
bad weather brought my holiday to a close ; and
since that holiday, with the exception of a few
days' English rock - climbing, my holidays have
been taken up with climbing in New Zealand,
South America, and Siberia, which the following
chapters of my book will describe.
While I was climbing in Switzerland I looked
upon it as strenuous work, but since my experiences
in other parts of the world, I have altered my
opinion of the climbing in Switzerland. The
plentiful supply of well-equipped mountain huts :
well-known routes up most of the mountains, and
luxurious hotels, ten to twelve hours from most
of the summits ; certified guides and porters, and
many other advantages, turn Swiss Alpine climbing
87

My Climbing Adventures
{if taken in suitable weather) into comparatively easy
work, compared with the drawbacks and difficulties of
unexplored or little-known mountains. The climbing
is so fascinating and interesting in Switzerland that
I never knew what it was to be tired, and I look
forward in the future, when I stop wandering
round the world, to returning to the European
Alps, with all their associations, adventures,
legends, and mysterious fatalities, which have
made thousands of tourists look upon those same
precipices and glaciers with awe and dread.

88

BOOK II

CHAPTER V
TRAVEL AND EXPLORATION IN SIBERIAN MOUNTAINS IN
WINTER — MOUNTAIN-CLIMBING AND EXPLORATION
AS an introduction to my Siberian expedition, I
take the account that appeared in the Daily
Mail, London, shortly after my return, as follows : —
An Englishman's Climb
Remarkable Feat in the Altai Mountains
A remarkable mountaineering feat has been accom
plished by an Englishman, Mr Samuel Turner, F.R.G.S.,
of London, who has just returned from an attempt to
climb Belukha, in the Altai Mountains, Siberia. The
Altai Mountains stretch from Tomsk, the capital of
Siberia, to the Chinese border, South- West Siberia. They
are very low at Tomsk, but after Biysk they are fairly
high. To reach the highest, one leaves the Great Siberian
Railway at the Obi Station and travels through Barnaul
and Biysk to Katunda, 640 miles direct south of the Obi
Station. From the great difficulty of reaching there, it is
not surprising to find that no European has tried to
explore these mountains, and there is no literature on the
subject in English, save a short translation of about twenty
lines from a paper read before the Imperial Russian Geo
graphical Society. Professor Sapozhnikoff of the Tomsk
University, with four companions, climbed 13,300 feet
91

My Climbing Adventures
from the south side of Belukha, during the summer of
1900, and then it was estimated that the mountain was
14,800 feet high. Mr Turner intended to confirm Professor
SapozhnikofFs measurements.
It was in the late winter, and though the Russian
authorities were helpful, they declared any ascent was im
possible ; but Mr Turner engaged hunters and crossed the
steppes in intensely cold weather, riding on sledges for
three days and two nights, beyond the last small village,
there being snowdrifts everywhere. Katunda was thus
reached, and the journey was continued on horseback past
the settlements of friendly Kalmucks, who had never seen
an Englishman ; and through a dense forest to the Akkem
Valley. It was first of all necessary to examine Belukha.
Accordingly Mr Turner climbed one mountain, 17,800 feet,
and did so alone, for the hunter he took with him and Mr
P. Cattley, a young Irishman, would not take the risk, and
stopped at the lower altitude. The following day Mr
Turner climbed another mountain, and then commenced
to scale the object of his visit. The party moved off at
eleven o'clock, and after they had gone over a very difficult
moraine for two hours, it commenced to snow, with the
result that it frightened the hunters, and they left Mr
Turner alone on the mountain, on the distinct understand
ing that they would be up at his tent by four o'clock next
morning. It was a lonely afternoon and night, but the
next morning, the hunters not being visible, Mr Turner
started off at 5 A.M. The snow had stopped, and in
four hours he reached the base of the actual peaks of
Belukha. There are two peaks and a saddle between
them, but he could only gain those ridges by a very
difficult way. 92

Winter Climbing in Siberia
It had also begun to snow again, but he decided to
push on.
At the top of the second ridge he measured 13,800 feet,
and left his name in Russian and English under a large
stone, and then continued until he came to an ice slope
descending from the summit. Owing to the hardness of
the ice it took half an hour to cut one step, and as thirty
were necessary, the climber was compelled to pause and
remodel his plans. He tried to go down the south side of
the mountain, but the fresh-fallen snow on the ice slope
slipped with him for about 60 feet, and he was glad to
get back to the ridge again. Then a north wind sprang
up, with all its bitterness, obliging him to beat a hasty
retreat to his tent. Soon afterwards Mr Turner felt ill ; he
attributed it to having poisoned himself by drinking soup
out of a tin, and to a diet of snow-water with black bread
and dry rusks, and tinned articles. His hands and face
were swollen and it was hopeless to go on. Mr Turner
had intended going to find some thermometers which
Professor Sapozhnikoff had placed on the south side of the
mountain. In addition to this slight poisoning, he had
sustained severe inflammation of the eyes through the
intensely cold winds. The expedition had come to an
abrupt close. Mr Turner adds : " The view I shall never
forget. Our third camp was on the side of a lake that had
apparently frozen to the very bottom, as we dug down in
the ice to about 6 feet and came to earth ; this was about
12 feet from the edge of the lake. The mountains all
round stood out like huge sentinels, but were scarcely as
bold as the most massive group of the Alps."
Daily Mail, istfune 1903.
In my last book, Travel, Exploration and
f 93

My Climbing Adventures
Climbing in Siberia, I gave an account of Siberian
climbing, but omitted quite a lot of details, which I
will include in this chapter. There are many
things which will bear repeating, because Siberia's
remote mountains are not known to the general
reader, and I am quite certain that English-speak
ing people will welcome information about them.
Since my last book, several well-known explorers,
including a famous big-game hunter, have written
to me for full details of the hunting to be got in the
Siberian Altai Mountains.
The animals are similar to those that lived in
Europe in the time of Julius Caesar, and one must
go to the Altai Mountains ready to protect himself
against wolves, bears, wild dogs and other animals ; #
also from escaped exiles, even more dangerous than
the animals.
I had not the remotest idea that there were
mountains in Siberia, and should probably never
have given the matter any consideration, but for
the remarks of a fellow-director of a commercial
company I was interested in. He said he was
glad there were no mountains in Siberia where I
might kill myself. The next day I was in London,
and the Librarian of the Royal Geographical
Society kindly gave me quite a lot of information
94

Winter Climbing in Siberia
about the different systems of the Siberian and
Central Asian Mountains ; but the only information
he could give me about the Altai Mountains was a
few lines translated from Professor Sapozhnikoff's
lecture before the Imperial Russian Geographical
Society. These few lines described a mountain
called Belukha, supposed to be 13,300 feet, which
had been measured by Professor Sapozhnikoff as
14,800 feet, and said that it was situated in 86° 30'
east longitude.
I was going to Siberia on business, and if I cared
to go to the most remote part where it was possible
for me to do business, Biysk, I would be about 400
miles from Mount Belukha.
My journey was in the winter, and it could not
be altered for the sake of mountain climbing ; so
rather than give up the idea of climbing amongst
unknown mountains, I decided to take all risks.
My outfit was limited to what I could carry with
me on the boat to Riga and on the trains in Russia
and Siberia, relying upon getting a large tent and
further equipment in Siberia. In this I was dis
appointed. The Russian Customs officer at Riga
passed my baggage when I explained my intention
to climb in the Siberian Altai ; but he was not
aware that my pockets were full of cartridges and
95

My Climbing Adventures
that I had a revolver in my hip-pocket. My next
step towards Belukha was after my business had
been completed in Western Siberia. I journeyed
to the Obi Station and completed arrangements to
take Mr P. Cattley (a son of a Fellow of the Royal
Geographical Society, living at this station) with
me as interpreter and companion. We journeyed to
Tomsk, and had lunch with Professor Sapozhnikoff
at the Tomsk University. He was sure that I
could not get near Belukha in winter, and said we
would require snow-shoes to get to the Saptam
Mountains, 40 miles away from Belukha. He said
he had gone in the summer when the boat took
them as far as Biysk ; and there being good level
roads and no snow, the rest of the distance was
covered by droshky. I left him and saw the
Governor of Tomsk the following day, to try and
get the use of the post-sledges. The letter from
the Minister of Ways and Communications, which I
had received while in St Petersburg, helped me a
little, but the Governor of Tomsk wanted to know
too much about our plans. Mr P. Cattley en
deavoured to satisfy him, without interpreting the
conversation to me, and nearly caused trouble.
The Governor wanted to know how we intended
to get back if severe weather or a spring thaw
96

Winter Climbing in Siberia
locked us in the mountains. I informed him that I
could not afford to run any risk of being locked up
in the mountains, and would cut the climbing short
if I found the winter drawing to a close.
The winter changes to summer in fourteen days
but it takes a long time for the swamps (made by
the snow melting) to sink into the hard frozen
ground. The Governor was a strange mixture
of suspicion and kindness. My opinion of him
changed many times during that interview, which
lasted about an hour. The sharp manner in which
he demanded my passport before opening our con
versation, and his kind-hearted information-impart
ing manner during the conversation, were two
widely different characteristics. His intense
geniality at the close of our interview, and the
promise of the letter which he never sent me, were
even more difficult characteristics for me to under
stand. The warm-hearted, familiar manner of the
educated Russian and the strict official exacting
mannerism both in the same individual, make one
misunderstand the real man. His warm-hearted
manner contrasts very strangely with his official
manner, and, owing to his affectionate ways being
often taken advantage of by those under his orders,
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My Climbing Adventures
he is compelled, in order to reassert his authority, to
be more severe than would otherwise be necessary.
This characteristic, which I had come into contact
with in the Governor of Tomsk, accounts for a
good deal of the attempts to overthrow power and
authority in Russia.
In justice to the Governor of Tomsk, I must
mention that I visited him just after a student
rising caused by anarchists.
We journeyed back to the Obi Station and
made preparations for the journey through the
Altai of about 1600 miles to Belukha and back,
calling at Barnaul and Biysk on my way. I had
travelled on the town sledges at the rate of 12 to 14
miles an hour, and calculated our journey at this
rate of speed ; but when I saw the kind of sledge
that goes through the steppes of Siberia, I began to
think of 8 miles an hour ; but we did not get more
than 5 or 6 miles an hour for the first stage.
The difficult and trying nature of sledge-travelling
on the Siberian steppes might be the reason why
Russians rarely travel in the winter, excepting the
ordinary moujik with the goods-carrying sledges,
which go at a very slow pace. Traffic sledges
break the snow on the roads up into holes, some
times 3 feet deep and 6 to 8 feet across. There
98

Winter Climbing in Siberia
are no round stones to stop the snow from shifting,
like those one sees in the streets of Moscow, St
Petersburg and other Russian towns.
Our baggage was placed on the bottom
of the sledge, hay on the top, and we sat on
the top of the hay ; one sledge instead of two was
the quickest way to travel. The horses were
whipped and shouted at by the moujik to get up
full speed when we neared these holes, and the
sledge took the hole with a leap to the other side,
coming down with a bang. We were raised a foot
or so along with our luggage, which sometimes
settled down before us, and sometimes we settled
down to the bottom of the sledge before the
luggage. The shuba and overcoat would become
crumbled up into the middle of our backs, and
remained like that sometimes for 5 or 6 miles ;
while our legs up to the hips became frozen, despite
the valenkis (felt top-boots) we wore. We grew
indifferent to back- and bone-ache, and very often
were fagged and frozen to sleep. If we had been
of the lean kind and thinly-clad, it is possible we
might have broken a bone or two, but we were
both meaty and well clothed, with a thick
ness of about 6 inches of clothing around us, so
we only bruised ourselves by being banged on to
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My Climbing Adventures
the corner pieces of baggage. What a contrast
winter and summer is in the Altai! In winter, 20
to 30 degrees below zero (Reaumur), 10 to 50 feet
of snow, snowdrifts everywhere — in some cases
nearly burying the black-and-white-striped verst-
post that showed us our track from one village
to another ; hungry wolves, bears, and ferocious
escaped exiles. The River Obi and its tributaries,
almost obliterated by snowdrifts on ice, 10 to
15 feet thick. Horses covered with frost, dead
horses lying on the roadside at intervals along the
route, and the road and sledge as described.
In summer — Droshky, over fairly smooth roads,
the most brilliantly-coloured flowers in the world,
all kinds of bird-life, boats and pleasure-steamers
up the River Obi for 400 miles ; plenty of fishing,
shooting and life everywhere.
My only excuse for going in the winter was
business ; the journey should not be taken in
winter. It is too dangerous and trying, and
the Siberian steppes are one vast, snowy desert,
with less than a desert's landmarks to guide you,
once off the post-road. If you stick to the post-
road, it is possible to get all over Siberia, both ex
treme north and south, guided by the black-striped
Russian verst-post, unless it gets buried in the snow.
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Winter Climbing in Siberia
The Royal Horticultural Society of London, in
translating a chapter on the Altai flora for me,
made the statement that the Altai is the natural
home of most of our English hothouse plants.
The abundance of the Altai flora is conveyed by
the fact that 50,000 tons of honey and 150 tons
of bees'-wax have been exported from the Altai in
one year. It is the flower-garden of the world in
the summer. There are many geographical and
atmospheric reasons for this, and, although the
temperature falls lower than in any other part of
Siberia or the world (72 degrees below zero,
Reaumur), the thick covering of snow protects
the roots, and the spring thaw gives the necessary
water to make the flowers shoot up suddenly in the
early summer. While the Arctic is the coldest
place in the world in winter, it is one of the hottest
places in the world in the summer.
Intense cold winds had blown the snow off some
part of the town of Barnaul and again at Biysk,
where we made a pause. I nearly lost my inter
preter at Biysk ; the Russians made him frightened
by showing him crevasses in one of the glaciers from
one of Professor Sapozhnikoff's photographs. It
upset him so much that he said he was wanted at
home, and did not intend to be killed on any dirty
10 1

My Climbing Adventnres
mountain, so he said I had better go by myself. It
took four hours for me to persuade him to go on
with me ; and as a last attempt I asked him what
the Russians would think, and I told him that the
Irish race was noted particularly for pluck, and that
if he did show the white feather he would be the
first Irishman I ever knew to exhibit such a trait of
character. I also promised that he had no need to
climb, but that I would leave him at the last village
and secure him a man to go hunting with if he
would wait for me. We carried on this discourse
in his bedroom, where he sent for me to tell me
his verdict and the reason he was in bed at ten
o'clock in the morning, when he agreed to start at
5 a.m. The final straw that broke the back of his
opposition was the fact that I had made ready and
definitely told him I was going alone, and he would
be responsible if I got lost, owing to not knowing
enough of the Russian language, and that I could
not get another interpreter. He knew I was going
alone ; the people of the house made him aware
that I had prepared ; so, finally, on condition I left
him at the last village to go hunting, he agreed to
come, but he was the manager of me and my move
ments until I turned my back on the mountains,
coming home. The opposition shown me by
102

Winter Climbing in Siberia
everybody up to Biysk and at Biysk made me more
determined than ever. Just before starting we
bought a rifle in Birsk, because one of the leading
merchants, Mr Sitchef, said we were not well
enough armed only having one gun and two re
volvers ; and that we should encounter bears and
wolves on our way.
Mr Sitchef lent me a large shuba, which was
a very valuable part of my kit. The journey of
1 80 miles from Obi to Barnaul, and the 100
miles from Barnaul to Biysk, had been extremely
cold ; and the wind caused by the movement of the
sledge makes 10 degrees below zero almost un
bearable. The first stage from Biysk was 16 miles to
Krasnobaisk. On the way we had our first view of
the Altai Mountains, and reached the village at
half- past seven in the evening. It was dark, and
the room in which we were to have dinner had
about ten peasants sleeping on the floor. It was
anything but a comfortable position to be in, when
one remembers the reckless disregard of life in
Siberia. I entertained the peasants by balancing
a paper cup on my nose and burning it while
balancing, etc., which they appreciated very much,
and it placed me in a friendly position with them.
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My Climbing Adventures
I found that an entertainment or two like this very
often made the suspicious characters forget that I
might be what they considered a wealthy man. It
is possible that many of these men were quite
harmless ; but there are many escaped exiles about,
and exiles who are connected with the different
villages (not the educated political exiles, but
criminals). There are men amongst them who
would not think twice, if they knew you had a
fortune of, say, £2 or £3 — 19 to 28 roubles — in
your pocket, of trying to extract it by the Siberian
strangulation method, or any other deadly way. It
was this knowledge which made me feel that it
would pay me to humour them into feeling I
was not one of the aristocrats whom they hate so
much. We started at half-past eight for Altaiskoe, our
next stage, 34 miles, and although the weather was
clear when we started, it became very misty and
this intensified the dark. We passed the leader of
a pack of wolves which I wanted to shoot, but he
cleared off" before we could get back to where we
had passed him. We overtook a horse running on
before us on the road, which, no doubt, the wolves
had chased. We heard the howling of the pack
(which evidently that wolf was preceding) as they
104

Winter Climbing in Siberia
crossed our track, but we did not see any more of
them. We experienced considerable difficulty in
keeping to the track. The only guide our moujik
had was the sledge ruts, but these were often
obliterated by drift- snow. We soon stuck in a
snowdrift and realised that we were lost.
We looked about for some hut or farm to enquire
our way, and after a while approached a hut, but
the inhabitants were too afraid to answer the door.
We knew they were inside, but they evidently
thought us thieves, or worse. We went back to
our sledge and helped to pull the horses out of the
snow-heap, only to see them flounder into another ;
but after many attempts to liberate them, we seemed
to strike hard ground without deep snow. While
the horses were resting we heard voices and
running water very distinctly, but although we
shouted and fired off our revolvers to make them
hear, we got no answer. It was rather strange to
hear running water when there could not be any
unfrozen water for iooo to 1500 miles.
We tried many ways to gain our track again,
and, after being stuck in snowdrifts two or three
times, crossing and recrossing where we calculated
our track was, we managed to gain it again, or
what we thought was the track. The rest of the
105

My Climbing Adventures
distance was done with nothing to complain about,
except the intense cold. It was growing serious
with us when we found the track.
It was two o'clock in the morning when we
reached Altaiskoe. The people in charge of the
post-stations were always very obliging, and were
the very essence of servility ; and at this uncomfort
able hour they hurried about, after rubbing their
eyes, and soon had the samovar lighted and hot
water ready to make tea. The kindness and
consideration of these poor "post -hut keeping
peasants " is something to win the heart of the
traveller. The warmness of their welcome is only
exceeded by the heat of their houses, which at
times becomes stifling. We arranged with a
Russian trader, before he left Biysk for Mongolia,
to have some bear-hunting with him at Altaiskoe.
This station is at the junction of the road leading
to Belukha in the extreme south of Siberia and
Mongolia, and our friend had gone on that evening,
because we had promised to be there a day earlier.
Perhaps it is as well we had no bear-hunt. There
are two sides to hunting the Siberian bear : he has
a very keen smell, and runs as fast as an express
engine, therefore it is just possible he may scent
you before you see him, when it may easily be
106

Winter Climbing in Siberia
turned into a man hunt. We left Altaiskoe after a
few hours' rest, but had some difficulty in getting a
moujik to take us on to Barancha, 27 miles. The
moujik assured us that he could make more money
bringing in wood from the forest. This sledge-
owner was the only aggressive moujik we had come
in contact with, and he wanted all his own way
with us ; but he drove at a good pace and this
made up for his aggressiveness. On this stage we
wtnt over the first pass, the Shimelovskaya, 3500
feet above sea-level. The distance from Altaiskoe
to the base of the pass is 2 miles, while the
summit is 2 miles further. We were now in the
mountainous country. Descending, we came to a
butter-making creamery. The quality of the butter
they produced was very good ; the sanitary condi
tions of this particular dairy were poor and very
different to the up-to-date creameries near the
Siberian railway line. We reached Barancha about
noon ; the village policeman was a study in modesty,
judging by his manner — he informed us that he
knew we were coming. The next stage, to Tavou-
rack, was a short one, only 14 miles. The owner of
the sledge wanted double fare, because he said the
road was in bad condition. We had to pay or walk
it, as he was the only sledge-owner in this village.
107

My Climbing Adventnres
We reached Tavourack at 5 p.m. Our next
stage was Chorni-Anni, a distance of 24 miles,
with an ascent of 6 miles up the valley ; from the
summit of this pass the River Chagran takes its
source. The sledge was constantly turning on to its side,
and sometimes would run 200 to 300 yards before it
could be righted. The ground in this particular
valley was very muddy, and as it dragged along it
filled my interpreter's shuba brimful of mud, much
to his disgust. The poor moujik was disgusted
with his language, and when we reached Chorni-
Anni Station, just before going into the post-house,
I had to act the peacemaker. I never saw a man
in a more intense rage than the moujik, but on
entering the post-station he crossed himself before
his favourite saint picture, and became both subdued
and respectful and his simple obliging self again.
We started on our next stage to Melia, 10 miles
beyond Chorni-Anni, in a droshky. Two miles on
our way we passed the first Kalmuck settlement
and a party of Kalmucks on their way to Chorni-
Anni, which is the central market in this part of
the Altai, where the Siberian and Kalmuck ex
change commodities. The scenery which we
passed through was most beautiful. The valleys
108

Winter Climbing in Siberia
are level, and the mountains rise abruptly from
the level and protect the lowlands from winds.
We photographed a Kalmuck shrine near this
settlement. The rites appear to consist in lighting a fire and
walking round it with lighted faggots in their hands,
offering prayers ; a sort of Shamanism or, perhaps,
it might more correctly be called Zoroastrianism.
We arrived at Ouskam at seven o'clock. Most
of the villagers had gone after a pack of wolves
that had, very inconsiderately, eaten two horses the
previous night. We experienced some difficulty in
procuring a sledge and team to take us further.
We started the next stage of 40 miles to Abbi at
eight o'clock in the evening.
The first part of the journey was through very
fine scenery and over level ground. Some of the
valleys were about 20 miles across. The rest of
this stage escaped my notice ; it was my turn to
sleep. When I awoke, the temperature was 7
degrees below freezing-point. We were very glad
to reach Abbi. We had travelled for thirty-two
and a half hours with three halts of an hour each
from Tavourack to Abbi, a total distance of 76
miles, 20 miles of which was over mountain passes
and very slow going.
g 109

My Climbing Adventures
A peasant who had just arrived from Koksa,
40 miles further on, offered to take us for three
roubles 64^ miles, which we accepted, and we
arranged to start at six o'clock in the morning,
although it was four o'clock when we arrived. The
first 10 miles was level road, then we turned to the
left from the River Koksa, and began the ascent of
the Korgomskie Mountain-pass, 5000 feet above the
level of the sea. At one place the track ran for a
distance of 200 yards along the edge of a precipice
overhanging the River Koksa.
Descending from the pass, we travelled across a
rich picturesque valley, the mountains around clad
with pines, firs and birches, but there was a scarcity
of trees in the valleys.
Bears and game of all kinds are plentiful in this
neighbourhood. We passed some Kalmucks on
horseback, armed with very primitive guns. We
asked them what they were going to shoot, to which
they piously replied : " Whatever God may send
us." We had to take to the river presently, as
the snow became too deep for the horses. In many
places we drove through water, trusting that the ice
was strong enough underneath. The climax
came when we reached the River Abbi, a tributary
of the Koksa, where the river flows between steep
no

Winter Climbing in Siberia
mountain slopes. Here the ice was so broken up
that we had to take it in turns to go in front
of the sledge and test it before we ventured.
Judging by the speed of the water, as seen in
holes in the ice, the current of the Koksa is very
swift. At this part the river is about 20 feet deep
and beautifully clear. We left the River Koksa
and took a road to the left. In the afternoon we
were informed that Mount Belukha could be seen,
but we did not see it. We left Koksa, in the
afternoon for Ouemon, a distance of 16 miles,
travelling mostly downhill and over very rough
ground, and reached the village in the evening.
There was a doctor stopping at the post-station —
the only one within a radius of 100 miles ; there
is very little sickness in this Siberian mountainous
region. We had a letter of introduction to a Mr Oshlikoff,
a wealthy merchant. We had to cross the river to
his house. He gave us a friendly greeting, but was
very serious in his persuasions not to attempt to
go into the mountains during the Siberian winter.
This was about the twentieth man who was
certain we would never come back again. My
interpreter was impressed by this man's talk, but
in

My Climbing Adventures
I argued that as nobody had been there in the
winter, we could not tell if it was possible or not,
and that the sooner some one settled the question
the better. We had difficulty in getting rusks,
and bread was out of the question — there was a
great scarcity of all bread-stuff.
The spring is three or four weeks earlier in
this part than in the settlement of Novo-Nicolaevsk
on the Siberian railway. The previous year the
ice had thawed before the 25th of March. The
winter begins in October — December being the
coldest month.
We left Ouemon at mid-day and drove up the
mountain slope to the Katunda saddle, which I
measured to be 4850 feet above the level of the sea.
We had a fine view of Katunda to the right, with
the Saptam Mountain to the left and the Katunskie-
Belki range in the distance. We descended to
the flat valley of Katunda, 3000 feet below, the
mountains forming a circle round it.
We reached Katunda late in the afternoon,
having completed the journey from Biysk in three
days and three nights. During the journey we
had changed horses nine times, making eleven
stages, of which the shortest was 8 miles, the longest
40 miles.

Winter Climbing in Siberia
We were aided by the frozen rivers, which
freeze to the bottom during some parts of the
winter. The Katun, which is the principal tributary
of the Obi, is a fast-flowing river, which takes its
source in the southern portion of the Belukha
Glacier. It follows a semicircular course, passing
the valley north of the Katunskie-Belki. The
numerous tributaries from the same range, which
flow north for a distance of from 40 to 50 miles,
are indebted for their tortuous course to the peculiar
shape of the mountains. The River Katun, for
instance, has an unbroken fall of 3700 feet in 200
miles, and some of its tributaries into the river from
the mountains have a gradient of 2000 to 4000 feet
in a similar distance.
We found the two hunters recommended by
Professor Sapozhnikoff. One would not go because
it was winter, and the other wanted double pay.
This was the only man in the village who had been
part of the way before, so I was glad to secure him
at any price, and we took another Siberian whom
he recommended. While the hunters were making
preparations on the following day, we arranged for
the post-house keeper to provide us with horses,
and accompany us to the Saptam, the mountain
that Professor Sapozhnikoff had mentioned. We
113

My Climbing Adventures
had decided to have some ski practice on the slopes
of the mountain, so took skis with us.
We crossed a flat valley through 18 inches
of snow and gained the foot of the mountain in
two hours. We had some good shooting and
came across the skeleton of a bear. As already
mentioned, the Altai is as rich in animals to-day
as Europe was 2000 years ago, at the time of Julius
Caesar. Besides bears, there are gluttons, lynxes,
foxes, badgers, klonkas, squirrels, sables, ermine,
otters, hares, and a large variety of game birds.
The chief attraction, however, are the ibex, and
the real Ovis Amnion, both having exceptionally
large horns.
Besides the ordinary dangers of Alpine climbing,
there are the dangers of intense cold and the warm
reception one may get from some of these animals.
We had some good ski practice on the slopes of
the mountain where the snow was deep ; and on
more than one occasion descended into a basin-like
dip, headforemost in the snow. After a few
tumbles I became fairly proficient — except at times
when one leg would insist upon going in the wrong
direction, compelling me to sit down in the most
inconvenient places. When we gained the summit
of the Saptam Mountain, 9,750 feet, we were in a
"4

SAPTAM MOUNTAIN, NEAR KATUNDA.

To face p. iiij.

Winter Climbing in Siberia
splendid position to see the Katunskie-Belki
mountain range. I enjoyed six hours very
interesting and difficult climbing on the Saptam
pinnacles or adjacent mountains, which was
rendered the more difficult from the fact that,
thinking only of ski practice, I had left my nailed
boots behind. The most difficult bit was the third
pinnacle, where the rocks of the summit were split
in two, and it was necessary to climb about 30 feet
down a wall and then fall forward, gripping the
rocks across the ravine about 4 feet wide and 80
feet deep. One of the highest peaks looked as
though it had been split in two, forming a wall of
rock for about 400 feet and as smooth as glass.
The rock of these summits was very soft — a
kind of shale — and easily broken with the fingers.
On the north side the slopes were all of loose rock,
and being covered with snow, afforded very in
secure footing.
The second summit was 10,000 feet in height,
the third 10,050 feet, the fourth 10,020 feet, the fifth
and sixth 10,000 feet each. I named the third,
fourth and fifth peaks Faith, Hope and Charity, in
the order as I came to them.
I was informed by the priest, who had lived in
the village of Katunda for the past thirty years,
us

My Climbing Adventures
that no one had ever climbed those pinnacles,
although hunters had frequently ascended the
Saptam Mountain hunting game. When I returned
to the Saptam summit the moon was out, and it was
with difficulty I found the hunter with my horses,
my friend having gone back to Katunda four hours
earlier. The descent was very difficult and even
dangerous on horseback, because with sunset the
slopes had commenced to freeze, and the mountain
is steep enough to ride down under the most favour
able circumstances. We slipped and tumbled about
merrily before we reached the valley. The moon is
more brilliant in Siberia than in any other part of
the world I have been in. The valley was lit up as
clear as daytime. We arrived at Katunda Post-
house about midnight.
The journey was a splendid one, and I saw
enough snow-capped high virgin peaks from the
Saptam summit to keep the members of all the
Climbers and Alpine Clubs in Europe climbing
for the next few years. The climber must be able
to shoot and ski who wishes to reach the summits
of these mountains, because the bear might come on
to him almost as quickly as the avalanche, and the
ski is necessary to cross deep soft snow.
116

CHAPTER VI
MORE MOUNTAIN DISCOVERY — CLIMBING AND
EXPLORATION
KATUNDA is situated in 86°io' east longi
tude, and Belukha is 86°3o' east of
Greenwich. From information I had received from
Professor Sapozhnikoff I learned that Belukha, which
was believed to be the highest mountain in Siberia,
somewhat resembles Mont Blanc, in that it consists
largely (on the south side) of a gradual snow slope
and glacier. I had made enquiries about the most
suitable route, and had learned that the southern
approach is about three times longer than that from
the north. The passes round the longest way were
choked with very deep snow and therefore inacces
sible to horses ; we could not get dogs to draw
sledges ; therefore we had to abandon the idea of
.going to the south side of Belukha. We took skis
with us, with the intention of proceeding on foot
if the snow stopped the horses.
We made our first halt, after leaving the village
-of Katunda, at the house of a peasant recommended
"7

My Climbing Adventures
by Professor Sapozhnikoff as a suitable guide ; but
he refused to accompany us, as he considered the
journey too dangerous.
Half an hour's ride after our first halt brought
us to the River Katun, which we crossed, although
the ice was breaking up. Arriving at the other
side we entered a dense, trackless forest, through
which we groped our way in complete darkness ;
it was very clever the way the leading horse
found its way through it. Our rate of travel
ling was not more than 3 miles an hour. We had
intended following the course of the river, but this
was impossible as the ice was breaking. A second
forest was entered and left behind us, and then we
entered a mountain-pass which led us up to a height
of 6100 feet. A Kalmuck followed closely behind.
He seemed to treat the mountain-pass with great
respect ; and a tree on the summit, with pieces of all
colours of ribbon tied to its branches, gave tokens
of thankfulness on the Kalmucks' part for their safe
arrival. After a brief rest we made a rapid descent,
accompanied by a snowstorm, into the Akkem
valley. The road down a steep zigzag for 2 or 3
miles ended in a sudden dip to the right into the
Akkem valley, which at this particular place is quite
flat — the Akkem valley itself is very narrow — the
118

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
slopes of mountains with the River Akkem running
between. We pitched our tent earlier than we
had intended, but this was owing to the heavy snow
storm. We had the company of a solitary Kalmuck
bark hut. The owner scraped away the snow, his
children brought some dry sticks from the hut, and
he lit us a fire, while we unpacked the luggage,
putting the guns and everything we wished to keep
dry in his hut. I realised for the first time the folly
of not bringing a large tent. Our tent was 6 feet
6 inches long and 3 feet high, weighing 1 2 pounds.
When my interpreter and myself were inside it
was a case of " when father turns we all turn." Any
sudden movement might have brought the tent
down, because the ground was frozen so very hard
that we could not drive the tent-pegs in.
The Akkem valley, where we camped, is 4325
feet above sea-level, and the last Kalmuck bark
hut was pitched there before reaching the moun
tain of the Katunskie-Belki. The Kalmuck in
formed us that nobody thought of going over the
slopes of the mountains leading up the valley,
because the horses would slip on the ice down
into the River Akkem and would be killed with
the rider.
We found the steep forest slopes frozen for 20
119

My Climbing Adventures
miles. Before we had travelled half , the distance
we had been through all the antics and positions
possible on horseback on the ice-glazed slopes.
There was no track and the horses had to pick their
way over fallen trees ; we saw several herds of big
game in the distance. Descending a slope and
crossing the River Akkem at an altitude of 5650
feet, we obtained our first good view of the Katunskie-
Belki. We dragged our horses up the opposite
bank. After rounding the slopes of a mountain we
emerged out of the forest to the left, and eventually
reached the banks of the River Yarlow, a tributary
of the Akkem. We selected a suitable elevated
spot at the base of a mountain, and in close prox
imity to a forest, where we thought we would be
protected from the wind and find wood, on which
everything depended, as only two could sleep inside
the tent at a time, and two of us would have to
sleep before a fire in the open. It was either this
or turning back, and I had come too far for that. On
Professor Sapozhnikoff's map, which is the only one
of this district, there is a River Yarlow. We found
where the river evidently flowed in the summer,
but it was quite dry ; and, judging by the stones form
ing the bed, it is only a mountain stream. There was
no frozen water in any part of it ; showing that the

WE CROSS THE RIVER AKKEM IX CANOE.

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
mountain tops and snow on the slopes had frozen
first. This stream takes its course in the east of
the Katunskie-Belki range, fed by a glacier, which I
saw evidences of, but which remains to be discovered.
We had been on the road two days since leaving
Katunda ; fourteen hours of this had been spent in
all kinds of acrobatic feats on horseback on the
slopes of mountains and through forests. It was
on the second evening we encamped at 5.30 p.m.,
8150 feet above sea-level. Snow commenced to
fall at eight o'clock and the temperature in the open
was only 34 degrees below freezing-point, Fahr.
We could see Mount Belukha rising before us in
a direct line 8 miles away, and we were in the
circle of the Katunskie-Belki range.
Opposite our camp was a bank, covered to a
great depth with snow, evidently a lateral moraine
of the Belukha Glacier. It must be a very old
moraine, as small trees, fir and pine, are growing on
it. These trees were much younger than the forest
trees around. The glacier had receded 4 miles
at least, leaving a lake in between this old moraine
and the present glacier. Everywhere was ice and
snow and perfect stillness ; a more wild, desolate and
rugged spot could not be imagined. I pitched the
tent while the huntsmen went in search of wood. I

My Climbing Adventures
joined them after fixing the tent, and we found, owing
to the extraordinary dryness, that we could break
very thick branches quite easily : this is owing to the
very dry Siberian air. The wood burnt very freely,
the kettle was boiled and soup prepared from two
ryabchiks, which had fallen to our guns on the way.
We also roasted half a sheep. After our first dinner,
within sight of the long-looked -forward-to Belukha,
I felt quite satisfied with myself and the surround
ings, and reconciled to the complete loneliness and
silence. One thing I noticed very quickly was the
continual shifting of the direction of the wind. No
sooner did we move round the fire to prevent the
smoke of the fire blowing in our faces than the wind
followed us round. It shifted so often, filling our
eyes full of smoke, that I christened the spot " Windy
Camp." We were near the junction of three valleys,
and no doubt the next party who reaches this spot
will know it by the Nestles milk tins, Army and
Navy ration and soup tins, and the general clearance
of the trees.
After making plans for the morrow, we decided
to retire to rest. Just as I was on the point of fall
ing asleep a hurricane sprang up, which threatened
to tear up the tent. We were up at five o'clock
next morning, and I spent the first day exploring

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
the Belukha Glacier and looking for a way up
Belukha. I made experiments to see how much the glacier
was moving, and decided later on that it moves
about as slowly as it is possible for a glacier to move.
The ice was most exceptionally hard and compact ;
I soon discovered it was impossible for the nails
in my boots to make any impression on it.
Although I stamped my feet I was unable to make
the nails stick to enable me to walk up the slightest
incline. We discovered a large number of boulders
which had been scratched and grooved on the side
nearest the glaciers. These were situated about
2 miles from the glacier itself, and showed how
far it had receded.
Some of the grooves on boulders of which I
took a photograph were half an inch broad and a
quarter of an inch deep.
There were no marks of the progress of the
glacier on the other side of the stones. The moun
tains on both sides are composed of granite, and are
entirely without vegetation above the level of the
glaciers. Huge heaps of rock had been split off
these mountains and had fallen on the glacier. The
only crystallised granite mountain was Belukha, yet
thousands of enormous boulders were scattered on
123

My Climbing Adventures
the edge of the glacier 6 miles from that
mountain. Judging from the character of the
glacier and the boulders, I should say that the
mountain was at one time 4000 to 5000 feet higher
than its present height, 14,800 feet. Most of these
mountains appear to have been split in half quite
recently by some powerful upheaval of the earth.
One proof of this was the extreme softness of the
rock, which had tumbled from the peaks and had
sharp edges which did not show the slightest wear
by ordinary denudation. Some of these rocks were
so soft that I could break them by letting them fall
3 feet. The Katunskie-Belki group forms a circle, the
principal peaks of which have an average height of
14,000 feet. In the centre of this circle there are
three mountain ridges, branching from north and
south, which at a distance have the appearance of
enormous fins. A mountain climber soon learns
that even the mountains crumble ; and some
mountains which look solid rock from the distance
are nothing better than a huge pile of loose rock
and stones. Instead of looking for an avalanche
of a few hundred tons of stone coming down the
mountain, one might expect to see avalanches
more like half a mountain fall in these Siberian
124

t

KATUNSKIE-BELKI, WITH BELUKHA WEST PEAK ON EXTREME LEFT, FROM A HEIGHT OF 11,000 FEET. Tu face p. i!4.

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
Alps. The moraine is composed of two ridges
of boulders and stones, 200 to 250 feet higher
than the glacier itself, and there appears to be
more moraine than glacier. I have never seen
so large a moraine, although I have stumbled
over moraines in the Andes, New Zealand Alps
and Swiss Alps ; it is about 5 miles long from
the top of the moraine.
I was attracted by a high pass, which seemed to
give me a chance of getting a good look at Belukha's
precipices. The north side of Belukha is a sheer
precipice. When I reached the top of the pass I
was astonished to see in the distance across the
glacier two high glaciers and a very high mountain,
much higher than Belukha : so I decided to
climb that high glacier and have a look at the
mountain. Returning to the camp I made arrangements to
start at three o'clock the following morning, but
I could not persuade both huntsmen to accom
pany me ; and the one who did decide to come,
made it quite clear that he would not do any
dangerous climbing. My interpreter having re
fused to even climb the slopes of the mountain
made the hunters think that I was mad. I was
up at two o'clock and ready to start at three, but
H 125

My Climbing Adventures
a very thick mist hugged the ground and my
hunter refused to start before four.
We crossed the frozen moraine on skis. It
was my third experience on skis, and one leg
persisted in going the wrong way, laying me low
on the soft snow. Once over the deep snow
that covered the actual moraine we went over
lumpy earth for about 300 yards to the frozen
lake. Continuing over the lake, we went too far
to climb the glacier that we had intended to
climb, so we decided to go to the end of the
frozen lake and follow a frozen stream. We left
our skis on this spot on the lake-side. We could
not make any impression on the ice, so we took
to the bank, steep, but climbable. Once on the
top we had fairly level ground, although buried
in snow. The skis, which we left behind us,
were bound with fur, the object of which was to
take a firm grip of the snow and prevent our
sliding backwards. We soon regretted leaving
them behind, as we sank deep into the snow at
every step. Leaving the snow at last, we climbed
some steep rocks, only to find ourselves on a
snow slope, the surface of which was frozen over.
We presently reached the lower end of the
glacier, and again found the ice too hard for the
126

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
nails to make any impression. We were com
pelled to take to the loose rocks once more. We
followed a zigzag course over frequent snow
slopes and between isolated square blocks of
rock, also covered with snow. We at last
reached the top of the glacier, which we found as
flat as a billiard-table, and nearly as hard as rock.
The altitude was 13,000 feet. It was necessary
to stamp hard on the ice to be able to walk, and
even with this precaution it was difficult to move
slowly along. At the upper end of this glacier,
which was only about 200 yards across, there was
a hanging glacier which presented a very pretty
sight. The ice here was buried a foot deep in
snow, and snow lay also on a steep slope to the
left, which was exposed to the north. My hunter
photographed me at the end of the rope, and I
took another of the top of the glacier, afterwards
picking out, with my Zeiss binocular, the way which
I intended ascending the first slope alone, as my
hunter refused to climb with me, but agreed to
wait. I had the choice between a steep ice-glazed
slope and perpendicular rocks to climb. I made
for the rock after trying the slope ; the rocks
afforded some good climbing, something like the
shoulder of the Matterhorn. On the top I pro-
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My Climbing Adventures
ceeded along an easy ridge, 13,300 feet high, which
led up to the summit, after passing round the head
of the glacier. I took a photograph of myself by
the aid of a long tube. I proceeded up snow
gullies which demanded respect, owing to the
presence of loose rock. Great caution was neces
sary in stepping from one piece to another, in order
to avoid being precipitated on to the ice below. I
was on the south side of the ridge ; the north side
was a sheer precipice, and the north-west side was
one ice slope about completely free of snow at
an angle of 70 degrees. The Matterhorn glacier
breaks and falls on the Swiss side at an angle of
about 53 degrees. The intense cold of the blizzard
had plastered the side of this mountain with snow
which was speedily converted into the hardest
ice. The hardness of the ice is difficult to realise,
and is due principally to the fact that the mountains
are fanned by wind from the north, which comes
across the coldest zone in the world, from the
Arctic regions ; freezing everything it comes in con
tact with and exhausting itself on these peaks,
clothing them with a translucent armour of sky-
blue ice of indescribable beauty and purity. There
is a wealth of beauty in the snow-clad summit of
the Swiss Alps when the sun is upon them, as
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Siberian Discovery and Exploration
seen from some neighbouring peak. I have gazed
at Mont Blanc from the summit of the Matterhorn
and at the Matterhorn from Mont Blanc, and some
of the grandest views in Switzerland ; but the
northern face of the Katunskie-Belki range, with
the crystal-clear glaciers hanging in the sun and
sparkling like diamonds, forms a picture so striking
and beautiful that my experience can offer no
parallel to them, except, perhaps, gazing on Mount
Tasman's ice slopes from the summit of Mount Cook,
New Zealand. It was one of those soul-impress
ing views which leaves one more of Nature's pictures
to be stored in the mind and realised at will. The
wind was intensely cold and the mountains seemed
to draw nearer. One peak was the shape of the
Swiss Matterhorn, but has an obelisk of rock
about 2000 feet less than that of the famous Swiss
peak. This peak was draped in ice about 50 to
100 feet thick, forming a wall about 2000 feet in
extent. I took several photographs of it, and could
have photographed it all day. It was one of the
many pictures that I saw in the Siberian Altai
which I felt that the camera could not do justice
to. The beauty of the view before me, and the
consciousness that I was gazing upon a scene that
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My Climbing Adventures
had never yet been desecrated by the camera, or
described by any human being, were things of a
lifetime, and amply repaid me for the trouble of
the long journey. Here all was virgin ground.
There were no passes known and labelled ; no
well-trodden routes to be followed ; no Mark Twain
had ever made the ascent of these peaks in
imagination ; no telescope had scaled their heights
before my Zeiss binocular ; no avalanche had
hurled its hapless victims to an untimely death ;
no Alpine hut vulgarised the slopes or ridges or
obscured the view of the summit ; no Baedeker
enumerated the guides or reduced the glories of the
ascent to a matter of pounds, shillings and pence.
I was in the home of the real Ovis-Ammon, the
maral, marmot, ibex, bear and the red Alpine wolf.
When the summer came the mountain slopes would
be alive with the song of countless myriads of birds,
and the hum of numerous game down to insects,
unmolested by civilisation and unhunted by man.
As I climbed on up the ridge nearing the
summit, the peaks I had been looking at became
less prominent, because, not only was I touring over
them, but other mountains extending to the north
west were also higher. On reaching the summit
I was surprised to find that the highest mountains
130

END OF FROZEN LAKE.

GLACIER NEAR WILLERS PEAK.

To /ace p. 130.

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
had very little snow on their summits but plenty of
ice plastered on their slopes facing north-north-west.
I was very satisfied with myself when reaching
the summit of this unknown peak I was looking
down on Mount Belukha. I placed my aneroid
on a sheltered ledge of rock and the altitude of the
mountain registered 17,850 feet ; allowing the known
error 50 feet reduced the height to 17,800 feet.
My aneroid was tested before and after my return
to England, and found to be correct. Mr Edward
Whymper also tested my aneroid on my return to
England. I was surprised but elated at having
discovered a higher peak than the highest known
up to the time of my visit to Belukha. Therefore,
to make sure of its position, I took prismatic bear
ings and photographed the peaks all round. I also
took a photograph of myself by the aid of a long
tube, fastening my camera on the head of my
ice-axe. This method was fairly successful, but
the ice-axe would or could not be fixed straight
on this summit between lumps of rock, and the
tilting over of the camera made me and Belukha
in the distance out of focus. I christened
this peak "Willer's Peak." The temperature
had fallen to 12^- degrees of frost, Reaumur; and
it would fall considerably lower when the sun
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My Climbing Adventures
went down. I wrote my name on a stiff piece of
paper, in English and Russian, and deposited it
under a pile of stones. The rocks at the summit
I found to consist mainly of schist, felspar and
hornblende ; and, somewhat to my surprise, to
be so brittle that I could break pieces off them
with my hand quite easily.
The Katunskie-Belki form a circle of peaks, of
which Belukha appears to be the highest. To the
north of Belukha there are three mountains, shaped
like huge fins and parallel with the glacier, north to
south. The peak which I stood upon had a position
from east to west. A host of thoughts flashed across
my mind as I stood amid those rugged giants of the
Altai. I found myself wondering whether, when
the great Mogul race was predominant in Asia,
some stray adventurer had ever visited these
mountains ; or whether they, too, had feared them,
as the Kalmuck and the Moujik dreaded them
to-day. This particular group of mountains is
off the caravan routes from Siberia to China or
Mongolia. The nearest route is that via Onguadi,
the Ovis-Ammon hunters' route to Mongolia. This
must be 200 miles to the east of these ranges.
This fact, coupled with the isolation of Siberia
from Western Europe, before the Siberian railway
132

KATUNSKIE-BELKI AND LATERAL MORAINE, FROM " WINDY CAMP."

To face p. 132.

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
line, would account for my having had the honour
of leading the way to their exploration ; a lead
which I had hoped would soon be followed, to a
land which, in many respects, far excels Switzerland
in wild Alpine beauty.
There are other mountains quite as high, if not
of greater altitude and magnificence than these
that I have attempted to describe.
In the book on Siberia, by Geo. Kennan, p.
220, the writer who saw the Katunskie-Belki from
the Omsk caravan route to China, says from
the distance he could not tell how high the valley
was, but he estimated the height of the mountains
as 15,000 feet. He refers to Captain Marefski's
estimate of their height as 18,000 feet above sea-
level. He remarked they have never been climbed
nor measured, and nobody knows the height above
the sea or the valley bottom from which they rise.
These remarks confirm my opinion that there are
higher mountains to the north-west of Willer's Peak,
because from the highlands whence Geo. Kennan
saw the mountains, he would see the mountain-
system, if not the actual mountains I saw from
Willer's Peak, which extended 40 to 50 miles to
the west. At the time I was writing my book I
had not read Geo. Kennan's book on Siberia ; but
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My Climbing Adventures
it was written four or five years before mine.
Other mountains have been discovered in Chinese
Turkestan since my climb.
The word Altai means gold, and golden moun
tains they appeared to be as they reared their
mighty crests in the rays of the slowly descending
sun ; and later, when the after-glow rested upon
them, the scene was such as no Alpine sunset can
reproduce or emulate, beautiful though the peaks,
like the Matterhorn, are, under like conditions.
Not a bird sounded its call, no rippling stream
was to be heard, no avalanche raised the echoes
with the thunder of its fall, no Alpine cow-bell
sounded in the distance ; no glacier cracks could
be heard, nor the flowing of water under the glacier
— everywhere was silence, a silence that could be
felt. Yet, in the silence, the stately mountains
seemed to welcome me and to invite a closer
acquaintance. The frozen glacier stream and
river lay in its winter sleep beneath me ; the lakes
in thin ice-sheets slept peacefully beyond. In the
distance were the pure white snow-fields, kissed by
the sky in their complete loneliness. Around me
scores of glaciers clothed the slopes and precipices.
The summits dreamt in the glow of the closing
day. The sky was clear and of a beautiful blue
134

ICE-GLAZED PEAKS, FROM WILLERS' PEAK.

PHOTOGRAPH OF THE AUTHOR TAKEN BY HIMSELF ON THE
TOP OF SOME STEEP ROCKS.

To face p. 134.

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
tint to where it kissed the snow and purified its
colour still further.
I felt that my journey had been more than
repaid by this brief spell of glorious essence of
life. Surely life is only measured by the quality
of its moments which leads men into all kind of
difficulties and delights : so I felt that two hours
of such glorious essence of life was worth ten years
of life amidst the hustle and scurry for wealth in
other parts of the world. I hope the day is coming
when fast electric power will transfer people to
these mountain regions, and the highlands and
mountains of the Altai will become a sanatorium.
If man wishes to cure his fellow-man of the white
scourge, tuberculosis, the Siberian Alps are the
places where this can be done. Who can say but
that consumption in its different forms is the natural
outcome of man not using the purest parts of the
earth for the benefit of mankind ?
With the mountain fever within me more in
tense than ever, I was compelled to commence
the descent of the mountain. After three hours'
climb I reached that part of the mountain where
I had to choose between a vertical precipice and
the risk of starting an avalanche down a very
steep ice slope. I was too tired to climb down
135

My Climbing Adventures
the rocks or even walk down the slope, so decided,
rather than stay on the mountain and freeze, to
trust to Providence and let myself slide down on
my back, putting my ice-axe under my left arm.
I lost control of myself, but threw away my ice-axe
to prevent myself becoming impaled on its sharp
spike or head. With the exception of losing a
little skin, I landed on the glacier below without
accident. I secured my ice-axe and decided to try
the sliding on my back down the glacier, and it
worked all right. I met the hunter at the L attorn
of the glacier, and was glad to unload some of my
equipment on to him. It was the sledge-travelling
in a cramped position and climbing with such a
heavy load on that made me so very tired. Be
sides double underclothing, a thick climbing suit
and thick seal coat on the top, I had binoculars,
prismatic compass, aneroid, Alpine rope, rucksack,
containing camera, change of clothing, etc. Climb
ing a mountain weighted like this, without having
more than one day's preliminary walk, was a great
tax. We put snow-shoes on to cross the lake
and lateral moraine, and I had a few headers in
the snow for not having tied my skis on properly.
I was glad to reach the tent, and although I had
only been away for a seventeen hours' climb, I was
136

1

•*•

¦-¦

SNOW-BOUND TENT AND UNNAMED PEAK, AT 4 A.M.

To face p. 136.

Siberian Discovery and Exploration
thoroughly exhausted. At dinner-time my inter
preter had to wait on me, or I should not have had
enough energy to take food that night. Although
I was previously very much annoyed with my in
terpreter for not accompanying me on the climb ;
after the kind way in which he looked after me
that night, I forgave him for not risking his neck
on the mountains.
One of the Kalmucks, whom we met at the
last Kalmuck hut, was sitting round our fire
when I returned. When my interpreter made
me a cup of tea, the Kalmuck handed me a
piece of sugar ; but after the second cup of tea I
found it was a piece of white marble, much to the
merriment of the Kalmuck and my party. Our
tent had been blown down by the fierce wind, so
we all slept in the open that night. The horses
became restless and frightened, and came in near
the fire. The hunters said that there must be
wolves about, and the horses had evidently seen
them ; so we piled more wood on the fire to frighten
them away, and made sure that the guns and re
volvers were all charged. Wolves or no wolves,
it did not take me long to roll myself up in my
shuba and fall off to sleep. I slept until about
9 a.m. the following day, which was given up to
i37

My Climbing Adventures
hunting, and I secured trophies in the shape of
ibex horns as follows : Large horns, 42 inches
long and 10 inches thick ; second horns, 25 inches
long and 8 inches thick ; third horns, 23 inches
long and 7 inches thick. The southern and western
slopes of the Altai range, which are hunted by the
Mongolians, are becoming exhausted, the animals
being steadily driven to the more remote valleys
and secluded gorges in this mountain district. The
Kalmuck informed me that the horns of some of
the ibex he had shot were much larger than the
largest secured by me.
It is to be hoped that some English sportsman
may be induced to visit this part and find out if it
is not possible to secure the largest ibex horns in
the world.
On the slopes of the mountains I had climbed,
both the Saptam Mountain and Willer's Peak,
there were skeletons of maral and bear probably
frozen to death.

¦38

*&

%*^

-.&

¦-' ^

>~*

*-

DESOLATE CAMP, TENT ON MORAINE AND BELUKHA
WEST PEAK.

To face p. 139-

CHAPTER VII
CLIMBING BELUKHA— A NARROW ESCAPE OF BEING
CARRIED DOWN THE MOUNTAIN BY AVALANCHE
THE weather on the following morning was
very cold, calm and promising. The
thermometer registered 45 degrees below freezing-
point, and there was every prospect of a good
climb. It was my intention to move the main camp
as near as possible to the mountain, but the hunters
refused to go as far as I wished. I explained that
the distance from our present camp to Belukha
was 8 miles ; and, owing to the very difficult
moraine, and the peak being quite unknown to
me, it was absolutely necessary that we should
move the main camp much nearer to Belukha.
The hunters were afraid that there was no wood
for a fire, and that we should be frozen to death.
I told them of a number of fir-trees at the base of
the glacier which I had noticed the day previously,
and said I was quite sure the spot was much better
than "Windy Camp," as we should be protected
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My Climbing Adventures
by the peaks. All my arguments were of no avail.
Everybody had warned the interpreter and these
hunters against the danger of being frozen to death,
the common peril in Siberia, so my interpreter as
well as the hunters were determined not to take the
risk. After a lot of talk, it was agreed that we
should camp on the side of the lake i mile nearer
Belukha. We packed our equipment on the horses,
but had great difficulty in getting them over the
deep snow of the lateral moraine, at which the
hunters complained very much. We soon reached
the lake.
The water had evidently flooded the top of the
lake and frozen again, because it broke and let the
horses' hoofs through for about 6 inches at each
step : the ice underneath was very hard. Just as
I thought we were getting on splendidly the hunters
made for the side of the lake ; and, when I informed
them that we must at least go to the end of the
lake, they threatened to go home and leave me,
unless I allowed them to have their own way.
They both argued that even if I went to the end
of the lake, I should not be able to reach the peak
in one day, and they would proceed with my light
tent as far as I wanted. This being the best I
could do, as soon as we made the second camp
140

Climbing Belukha
I intimated that I wanted to sleep on the top of
the glacier at the foot of the Belukha precipices
that night. Continuing on our way, we rode the
horses to the end of the lake and tied them up
to the trees.
When we started from the camp at about
1 1 a.m., the hunters were willing to carry out
their promise to take my tent to where I wanted
to sleep ; but they soon got into difficulties on the
moraine, slipping off the ice-glazed boulders, sinking
up to their hips in soft snow, and getting their legs
jammed between boulders. They soon wore a
look of disgust on their faces.
I had anticipated that if I did not carry part
of my luggage myself, they would complain of their
loads being too heavy, so I had taken as much
as either of them, and when they began to complain
I reminded them of that fact. I also quickened my
pace and left them some distance behind.
When we left camp the weather was very cold,
with wind blowing from the north. The sky was
clear and blue. An hour later, as we were making
our way up the moraine on the left, the wind
changed and snow began to fall, and my companions
became anxious to return ; but I argued and cajoled,
and finally prevailed on them to go on. We
i 141

My Climbing Adventures
proceeded for another hour, when they finally struck,
although it was next to impossible to camp on that
moraine. We had only covered two miles out of
six which was necessary, to camp at a convenient
spot from which to climb the mountain the following
morning. My arguments were of no use, however,
for, suiting their actions to their words, they both
put down the luggage and were about to leave
me, when I agreed that if they would help me to
find a suitable place for the camp, they could come
up at 4 a.m. in the morning and carry it to the
base of Belukha, which they solemnly promised.
They took up the luggage again and followed
me for a little while, but there was no place for
a camp. I wanted to take them a little farther,
when they insisted on my choosing a spot close
to where they sat.
The rest of the moraine was quite as desolate,
so I turned over as many boulders as possible to
get the drier side. After scraping away the snow
and levelling up the boulders, I found that there
was no possibility of driving pegs in between them,
so I had to tie large stones to the cords of the tent
and pile others round to protect it against the wind,
which might cover me and the tent with drift-snow.
The hunters, who complained of the cold and snow,
142

Climbing Belukha
turned back, and left me to complete the fixing of
the tent and its interior myself. I was soon very
stiff and cold with the bitter wind and snow driving
against me, and was glad to crawl into my small
tent, lay my big coat on the boulders, unpack my
knapsack and make ready to light the spiritine
lamp (my only hope of keeping myself from being
frozen). I was surprised and not a little concerned to
find that the spirit had all leaked out of the lamp.
I was beginning to realise the awkwardness of
the situation, when I recollected that I had taken
a few small tins containing blocks of spiritine as
a precaution, little thinking at the time how very
valuable they were going to be. My feet and
legs began to freeze in my Alpine boots ; the big
Alpine nails in which seemed to conduct the cold
to my feet. I took them off, just in time to restore
the circulation and put my valenki on instead.
Then I lit two small blocks of spiritine, after
thawing the tops with a match.
I peeped out of the tent, feeling that if the snow
stopped I would return to the main camp and make
a fresh start in better weather ; but the snow and
drift-snow caused by very strong cold wind made
any return out of the question, so I tied up the
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My Climbing Adventures
opening of the tent, and determined to take what
came. I felt quite abandoned if not caught in
a trap. Fully realising my helpless position and
all the discouragement I had received at the hands
of all the Siberians I came in contact with, I grew
still more intensely determined to push on and
succeed in climbing Belukha at any cost. I then
boiled a tin of soup, drinking it eagerly to warm
myself. Supper over (I call it supper, because
I was going to try and sleep and forget the storm
raging outside ; the time was about 5 p.m.),
I left one block of spiritine burning, and rolling
myself carefully in the fur coat and pulling my
fur cap down over my ears, I lay down on the
stones and tried to go to sleep, vainly, for the
howling wind was doing its best to tear up my
little shelter from its moorings.
I lay, expecting to find myself in the midst
of the driving snow with the tent cantering over
the moraine, but nothing happened for a while, so I
began to congratulate myself on the way I had
piled the stones and boulders round for protec
tion ; and shortly afterwards, amidst half-conscious
reveries, in which I wondered whether I should sur
vive the intense cold, and get to the top of the peak
and back to dear old England again, I fell asleep.
144

Climbing Belukha
I awoke suddenly about midnight, with an icy
shiver, as though I were lying in a cold bath. The
block of spiritine had burned itself out ; and in
my sleep, dreaming of home and mountains and
ibex, wolves, bears and snowstorms, I had kicked
off my fur coat. It took me quite a while to
restore the circulation to my frozen limbs, which
at one time looked as though they were badly
frost-bitten. I decided that it was too cold to
risk going to sleep again. I lay thinking ;
wondering how I should succeed in making the
ascent over all that fresh snow. Nature, however,
proved stronger than my determination, and I
presently dozed off to sleep once more. I must
have slept for three or four hours, for when I
awoke day was breaking ; it was about three
o'clock in the morning.
I reached for my boots and found that they
had frozen very hard and that I could not get
my feet into them. My feet were also swollen.
I thawed the boots by lighting a block of spiritine,
and managed to squeeze my feet into them. My
body was very stiff after sleeping upon these boulders.
I consulted my watch and found that I had
been in the tent thirteen hours, during about ten
of which I was asleep on the boulders. I named
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My Climbing Adventures
that camp " Desolate Camp." I opened the tent
and crawled out, brushing the snow away from
the boulders as I did so. It had fallen to the
depth of about 6 inches during the night and was
falling still. The wind had dropped, however,
so I decided to turn in for another hour to see if
the weather improved.
Looking out of the tent some time afterwards,
and finding that the snow had ceased and that it
was lighter, I decided to make a start, if the
hunter did not come by the time I had taken
a round of photographs. The peaks were just
receiving the first rays of the sun, but the air was
so actinic that I decided to try and get photographs
showing the shadow as well as the sunlit peaks,
together with photographs of my little tent, which
was covered with about an inch of hard frozen
snow, almost as hard as ice, which could not be
chipped off my tent very easily. The boulders
all round the tent were covered with hard ice.
It was evident the freezing of my tent had
prevented it being blown away. The boulders
that I had turned over the night before to fasten
the guide-ropes of my tent were also glazed thick
with ice.
I decided that it was too risky to sleep in
146

Climbing Belukha
that little tent another night. The hunters had
promised to be up by four o'clock, but it was
now about five, and there was no sign of them ;
and as I could see it was no use relying upon them
to take my tent nearer Belukha, I decided to
try and climb Belukha from this tent, and get
back that same night to the main camp.
I took as little luggage as possible, and
proceeded over the ice-glazed boulders. I have
had considerable experience in scrambling over
Swiss boulders, and could consider myself well
practised in the knack of gliding or skipping from
one boulder to another with considerably more
than the average amount of balance and agility ;
but the boulders which form the moraine of the
Belukha Glacier were not only glazed with hard
ice, but were made to appear all level by the
snow being blown over them, filling up every
space between them.
To avoid sinking up to the hips in the soft snow
that lay between the boulders it was necessary to
jump from one to the other of them and trust
to luck that the raised part of the snow was cover
ing a boulder. Nine times out of ten it did cover
a boulder, and when I lit on it I had at times the
greatest difficulty in sticking there. I found the
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My Climbing Adventures
Mummery steel nails in the heels of my boots very
useful ; but I was deceived repeatedly by snow
raised as though there was a boulder under it,
though there was nothing there but soft snow. On
such occasions I had to let my legs go down
between boulders and had to break my fall by all
kinds of twists and turns. I found the safest way
was to let myself fall forward on my hands but
sometimes I had to fall backwards. When my
limbs began to ache I tried the glacier, but each
time I found progress up the hard ice too slow.
The ice was too dense for crevasses, but after
walking up the slightest incline, if I was not very
careful, I would slide back again. On one occasion
I glided down to the side of the glacier as though
I had been shot out of a gun. It gave me such a
shaking that I took to the boulders again. As I
plodded my way to the top of the moraine the
boulders became looser, and continually the one I
jumped on to would vanish down between the
others. If I had not been quick enough to fall
forward or sideways each time flat on to the snow,
I should have been crushed in the holes which
the boulders made. I had to sit down to feel if my
ankle was strained or knee twisted, and after some
massaging I proceeded with my acrobatic per-
148

Climbing Belukha
formance, and every time I came to grief the peaks
seemed to be laughing at me and alluring me on
to a more desperate jump ; the most trying thing
was to find that I had to either try and struggle
between boulders or jump back again and round
another way. When the boulders were near each
other I could step from one to the other, but they
seemed to be so large that the tops were quite
3 feet apart in most cases. After a very trying
time on one particular part of the moraine I sat
down on a boulder as flat as a round drawing-room
table, quite 6 feet in circumference and 3 feet
across. I unpacked my rucksack and made a good
meal. I had been compelled to leave everything
except food behind me on starting out over the
moraine ; and now I could see by the Belukha
precipices that if I succeeded in climbing them
without a rucksack I should be very lucky. Whilst
resting on these boulders I heard a noise, and
looking down the glacier I saw the hunter, who
afterwards turned out to be Cherapanoff, about
3 or 4 miles away, beckoning for me to go back.
I had heard quite enough from the hunter
about the dangers of the mountains, and as the
clouds seemed to be drifting up towards me, I
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My Climbing Adventures
thought he was trying to warn me of the coming
storm. The clouds which were descending from
the peaks all around me made me hurry. I was
able to get my aneroid into my pocket, but was
compelled to leave the rest of my luggage on this
table-like slab of rock.
I first of all tried a gully up the precipice of
Belukha, but the rocks were too ice-glazed and,
after close examination, I concluded that it was
quite impossible to make the ascent that way. I
turned back to some steep rock which, I concluded,
led to the ice ridge, and for about an hour climbed
up slabs and wriggled up cracks. The snow and
ice gave me trouble and it presently began to snow,
as I reached the east ridge, which measured 13,800
feet. I left my card under a piece of rock and
proceeded through the fast-gathering mist towards
the higher ice ridge. This ice ridge is very much
like the ice ridge on Monte Rosa, near the summit
of Dufour Spitze ; not quite so steep at first and
covered with soft, powdery snow, but after about
800 feet it became hard ice. I had attained a
height on this mountain that nobody had attained
before me. Professor Sapozhnikoff had gained
13,300 feet from the south side in the summer-time,
but it was altogether another matter in the winter,
150

Climbing Belukha
and the hurried climb along that tantalising
moraine and up the northern precipice of Belukha
began to tell on me. I was, however, so exhila
rated on being close to the summit, that I felt like
making an attempt to run up the last 500 feet of
ice slope, but the ice was too hard and at an angle
of 35 to 40 degrees.
I commenced to cut steps, but found the ice
exceptionally hard, and it took me nearly half an
hour to make a decent-sized step. The largest
piece I could chip out of this ice was about the
size of a walnut, and I knew the climb to the
summit was impossible under these conditions, so
I stood to think about fresh plans and take in the
view. To the north was a circle of mountains, and
while I was there several avalanches fell off the
peaks to the north-west of Belukha on to the
moraine and the glacier up which I had come.
The weather was unsettled, but the snow had
ceased falling. Turning to look along the glacier,
which was about 8 miles long on the south side of
Belukha, I could also see a large number of snow
capped peaks, all of less altitude than Belukha.
Everywhere there was fresh snow. The ridge on
which I stood was rather dangerous, as the hard ice
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My Climbing Adventures
with which it was coated would not allow the nails
of my boots to get a good grip.
The view of the twin peaks forming the summit
of Belukha looked very beautiful glittering in the sun,
and filled me with an irresistible desire to climb it ;
so although badly in need of a rest, I continued to
cut steps in the hard ice. I was soon convinced,
however, that it would be impossible for me to
reach the summit that day, especially as I had
nothing with me to shelter in while I slept on the
ridge. The north face of the precipice, near which
I was standing, was glazed with ice, which rendered
the few cracks and hand-holes, that might be there,
quite useless. On the other hand, even had I been
able to climb that part of the mountain, it would not
have been possible to get further than the west side
of the ridge. The only way for me to take was the
one I had taken. Therefore, for the first time, I
realised that I could not get up the west peak from
any other part of the different ridges. It was quite
out of the question to continue up the ice ridge ;
and to take the more gradual slope on the south
was to take a very great risk of sliding down with
the snow.
I looked at it as carefully as possible, and
decided that although I might slip, the snow did
152

Climbing Belukha
not seem more than 2 feet deep, and there was
not much danger of being smothered with an
avalanche. I had come far and had taken the risks of
escaped exiles, wolves, bears, and the intense cold.
Therefore I did not intend to allow one more risk
to deter me. Walking carefully enough for a few
yards, it looked as though I had done the right
thing ; but a second after making this decision, the
snow began to move, and I with it. I steered
myself with my ice-axe for a yard or two, when I
lost all thought of everything except that I was
being carried to destruction. I turned head down
ward and stopped, the snow closing over me ; but
I was able to knock the snow away from my head,
and I found I could breathe all right. I had luckily
retained the grip of my ice-axe, and this stopped me
from gliding further towards a precipice. Pulling on
the ice-axe I managed to get on to my knees and free
from snow ; then I found myself a few yards away
from a sheer drop of hundreds of feet ; and I was
just on the edge of a steep slope, which would have
hurried me over the precipice. A lucky piece of
rock had stopped my progress.
I crawled on my hands and knees carefully after
making fast with the head of my ice-axe. I occa-
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My Climbing Adventures
sionally slipped and had to let myself lie flat to stop
myself from commencing to slide again.
It was during this time that I tried to make a
fresh grip with my ice-axe that I began to slip. I
now remembered my knife, so I got it out and
opened the short tin-opener blade. This was a
great help, and with its aid and that of the axe, I
managed to regain the ridge. It seemed to take a
second to slide down and about two hours to crawl
back ; the distance was about 60 feet. I scraped
lots of snow out of my neck, but a good deal of it
melted there and gave me a cold bath. After my
pockets were cleared and clothes shaken out, I
felt very cold and wet. To keep up the circulation,
more than with any idea of attempting to climb the
ridge again that day, I decided to cut as many steps
as possible, and come back the following day. The
wind began to blow from the north, intensely cold,
and this made me abandon step-cutting and hurry
off the ridge as fast as I could go. My clothes
stiffened upon me, and at one time I felt that I was
going to lose the use of my hands. I rubbed them
with snow and began the descent ; but the wind
had glazed the rock with ice, and I was a very long
time climbing down : even so I had to exercise the
greatest caution. 154

Climbing Belukha
The climax came when I found myself above a
gully which required to be climbed down, and
appeared to project. I had not climbed up it, so
concluded I had missed the route by which I made
the ascent. I stuck in that gully, carefully calculat
ing whether I could let myself drop with safety on
to a ledge, about 2 feet wide, covered with snow
and slightly slanting outwards, some distance below
me. I knew that if the ledge was ice-glazed I
should certainly slip and fall down the mountain,
but I was unable to get back.
I persuaded myself that the ledge was protected
from the north wind through being in a north
westerly position, and at last I let myself drop.
As luck would have it I was able, just as I landed
on the ledge, to grasp a projecting piece of rock
which had been invisible from above. The re
mainder of the climb was easy — it was below the
exposed part of the ridge and the rocks were not
ice-glazed. I was glad to scramble down the last
steep rocks and recognise the spot where I had left
my rucksack. Shouldering it, I started on my return
journey. The temperature on the moraine was 18
degrees below freezing-point. I found it very diffi
cult walking, as I was getting very tired, and I
became aware of internal pain. The pains developed,
i5S

My Climbing Adventures
and I decided that I had either contracted a severe
chill or had eaten something that did not agree with
me. I could not give up on that desolate moraine,
because I should never have been found. I seemed
about a million miles from England, and progress
over the moraine became more difficult, or appeared
to be more difficult.
It required all the will-power and patience I
could command. At times I was completely ex
hausted ; and my legs became so strained and sore
with slipping down between the boulders that I felt
I could not stir another yard. After a brief rest I
plodded on again. I was delighted to see my little
tent on the moraine, and when I reached it I found
my hunter resting quite contentedly with his back
to the tent and with my overcoat over him to protect
him from the cold north wind that was blowing.
He was very pleased when I told him to pack up,
and was not long in taking down the tent and
packing the remaining things together. He ex
plained that he had managed to get so far alone,
but that the other hunter had been afraid to come.
He spoke as though he thought he -was brave,
and as he had never been on a moraine or glacier
before, no doubt credit was due to him for following
156

Climbing Belukha
me. He pointed to a hole in the glacier which he
narrowly escaped tumbling into. He also expressed
his opinion that he was sure that if he had tried to
follow me he would have been killed. He showed
nasty bruises on both his legs, and by the way he
had fared on that short journey I considered myself
very lucky not to be more damaged.
From enquiries I made afterwards, I found he
had been four and a half hours covering the 2^ miles
to the tent ; but his interest had been attracted by
a huge bear which he had encountered by the trees
at the bottom of the moraine ; and which he had
tried to kill with his large knife. It appears that
the usual way of killing bears in that part is to let
the bear run at you, and just as it is going to spring
you get behind your long knife, lying flat, and so
the bear impales itself on the knife. He explained
that the bear ran when he got near to him, and that
he vanished into the mountain pass. He showed
me what appeared to be the track of the bear, and I
considered it was a good excuse for his not hav
ing followed me. Curiously enough, the hunter
was not at all afraid of the bear, and explained that
he had killed several with his large knife alone ; but
he admitted he was afraid of the mountains. The
hunter's assistance and companionship was quite
K 157

My Climbing Adventures
necessary to enable me to get back to the main
camp, which we reached that same evening.
My interpreter remarked that I looked very
unwell, and I was very sick for about an hour.
After thinking over what had made me ill, I decided
that I must have swallowed some solder from the
tin which contained oxtail soup, which I had drunk
so hurriedly in the little tent. I have no doubt also
that the snow and ice-water we had been drinking,
and the poor bread we were eating, together with
the tinned food, had something to do with my illness.
I went to sleep by the fire with my back to it.
During previous nights, sleeping in our fur coats in
front of a big fire we kept warm enough ; but this
night the wind blew a hurricane and the thermo
meter was very far below freezing-point.

158

KALMUCK BARK HUT, AKKEM VALLEY.

NORTH FACE OF BELUKHA FROM GLACIER, TWIN PEAKS, 14,800 FEET.

CHAPTER VIII
I AM COMPELLED TO GIVE UP ; AM POISONED, AND
HAVE INFLAMMATION OF THE EYES
1 AWOKE very early in the morning to find
¦*¦ that my eyes were closed tight with inflamma
tion, and that I could only bear to open them for a
few seconds at a time. As soon as daylight appeared
I gave the order to pack up, which was gladly obeyed.
My illness and the state of my eyes made any
further climbing out of the question. I was very
disappointed to leave so many virgin peaks un-
climbed, but there was nothing for it. We rode the
first 20 miles in a bitter cold wind and through
a driving snowstorm, sheltered only by trees. My
eyes were very painful, and I could only see for
about five or ten seconds at a time, consequently
the branches of the trees between which we had
to push our way swept across my face, leaving
severe scratches ; one branch took a piece out of
my nose, and has left a mark to remind me of that
ride all my days.
The faces of the party were nearly frozen by the
1 59

My Climbing Adventures
wind. The ibex horns on the horse's back, and the
leather bags on the side of the horses, knocked
against the trees and shook them as we passed, and
the snow dropped upon our heads and sometimes
down our necks. We tried to find our former track,
but the snow had obliterated all traces, and we were
very uncertain at times of the direction in which we
were travelling. The horses fell frequently during
this part of the journey and required a lot of pulling
up on to the track again ; and every time this happened
the luggage required to be repacked. It was a
pleasant relief when we reached the Kalmuck hut
and were able to obtain shelter and dry our
clothes. An iron slab in the centre of the floor of
the hut held the boiling pan, and a Kalmuck girl
was grinding rusks to powder to be boiled in milk.
Her mother lay ill on the wooden bed at the side of
the hut. Over her bed was the icon, and the pigtail
f one of the men had been shaven off. Other signs
proved that the Kalmuck had been converted to
Christianity. I had an opportunity to study the
character of these nomads of the Altai, and, from
observation and inquiries which I had made, I am
led to believe that they are the most natural and
unaffected people in the world. They are very calm
and alert, and are particularly friendly in their re-
160

KALMUCKS OX AKKEM PASS.

To face p. 161.

An Abandoned Attempt
lations with each other. They command the respect
of even our fighting hunter (the character given to
Cherapanoff by his enemies). It is surprising how
much the Russians think of these Kalmucks. They
are so modest and unassuming that your best feel
ings go out towards them. They are so simple and
lovable that it would be only the basest of men who
would take advantage of them. They are born
horsemen and hunters, and, although the Russian
Government will not allow them to serve as soldiers,
they excel the Cossacks in many respects ; they are
respectful, brave and chivalrous. They wear a skin
cap on their small round heads and a coat of bear
or sheepskin tied round the middle ; and their
boyish faces and high cheek-bones are eloquent of
vigour and strength. The Kalmucks wear the same
skin coat all the year round. They evidently think
that what will keep out the cold of winter will keep
out the heat of the Siberian summer, which goes to
the extreme of heat. If a man's happiness depends
upon the fewness of his wants, the Akkem Kal
muck must be the happiest man alive, especially
if what he has is the result of his wanting. I was
delighted to be able to distribute some slabs of
chocolate amongst the children, who had collected
in the hut to welcome the mysterious white strangers.
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My Climbing Adventures
Two of the Kalmucks had come 10 miles to see us.
They had never heard of Moscow, St Petersburg or
any towns in Europe ; Biysk was the furthest any of
their friends had been known to travel. The hut
seemed a palace to sleep in after the cold nights
sleeping in the open I tried to draw the inflamma
tion out of my eyes by the fire, but without success.
We started early the following morning, as we
wished to reach Katunda as soon as possible. Be
fore we went, I sold the rifle which I had brought
from Biysk to one of the Kalmucks who had followed
us to the mountains. He and another Kalmuck
had quite the monopoly of the shooting over the
Akkem valley. Halfway up the pass we met two
Kalmucks on the way to visit us. They were fine
specimens of horsemen, and were mounted on small
sturdy ponies. In the course of conversation we
learnt that they had run short of food, because of
the severe and prolonged winter. This was the
reason we could not get any good bread, and
only a few dry rusks. Judging by the experience
Professor Sapozhnikoff had in the summer, and
my own experience in the winter, the weather
must be very changeable. Sudden blizzards and
fierce north winds, with blinding snowstorms,
occur in the winter ; and excessive rains and dust-
162

AUTHOR S PARTY ON RIVER BIYSK BROKEN ICE. A FAST FLOWING
DANGEROUS SIBERIAN RIVER.

MY HUNTER, HIS WIFE AND MANSION.

To face p. 162.

An Abandoned Attempt
or soil-storms in the summer. The very heavy
rains a e usually in May and June.
Once over the summit of the pass we descended
through a forest and came to the River Katun,
which was in most parts free of ice.
A Kalmuck hunter rowed us across in his
dugout. We soon reached Katunda, and after
staying one night, commenced the journey of
800 miles to the railway line.
The incidents of this return journey were both
exciting and numerous. None of the peasants
knew their way, and we were stuck in swamps
time after time. In fact we had all conditions
of weather and ground to cover.
One moujik excused himself for losing us
because of the spring thaw having covered the
track with water ; another moujik excused him
self because of fresh-fallen snow ; and one said
he knew the road very well when the moon was
out, but on a dark night he had no idea of the
way the road went. To crown all, one moujik
actually excused himself because his horses had
never been that way before. Despite getting lost
on nearly every stage, the moujik always said
before starting that he knew the route.
We crossed the River Bye as the ice was
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My Climbing Adventures
breaking up. One of the moujiks who was
carrying a bag over the ice went to sleep on
the ice with his head on the bag. The block of
ice on which he lay was quite loose and might
have moved down the river at any moment.
Nothing special occurred, and we reached
Novo-Nicolaevsk and crossed the river just before
the river ice began its journey into the Arctic.
I joined the train for Moscow, and during the
journey I had plenty of time to reflect upon the
Altai, trip.
There is a great deal to be learnt in regard
to the mountain districts of Siberia. My own
theory of their formation is that the earth's pres
sure must have pushed them up at no distant
date. The rocks are quite new and soft, yet
the edges have not been worn smooth. Not
withstanding their softness, moreover, there is
very little crumbling. Of the great mountains in
the world, the Himalayas form the largest semi
circle. The ends of the ranges point north, and
the range bends like a bow to the south. The
Himalayas and the Caucasus form a semicircle,
which stretches across a large portion of our
earth's surface.
The ranges of the Altau and Altai are branches
164

THE PLEASURES OF A THAW.

THE ONLY SLEDGES WE MET FOR 400 MILES.

To face p. 164.

An Abandoned Attempt
of the Thian-Shan, which joins the Himalayas.
The same semicircle structure is still more ap
parent in the Katunskie-Belki range. In the
Akkem valley, and by the side of the Akkem
Glacier, there are four or five mountains of rock
similar in shape to the se>acs of the Glacier de
G6ant. The Siberian mountains become smaller
and smaller as you journey towards the Arctic, and
when I was at Tomsk, the capital of Siberia, I saw
where the commencement of the system of
mountains were at that part only very small hills.
If the earth's mountains are formed by pressure
this is as it should be. Mount Everest, which is
the highest, has been pushed up highest, because
the rock gave the greatest resistance, but it forms
the arch on the bow-shaped ranges of the
Himalayas and the east and west of the great
main range project in a northerly direction. The
theory that mountains are formed by the earth's
pressure has been proved clearly to my mind by
my visit to these previously unknown mountains.
The fauna and flora of the Altai are very
varied, and their examination would repay tenfold
any one who would take this trip to the mountain
district. The Royal Horticultural Society says the Altai
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My Climbing Adventures
is the natural home of some of the most beautiful
of our cultivated plants.
The fact that 50,000 tons of honey and 150
tons of bees'-wax are exported from this country
annually shows what a wonderful country it
is. A chapter on the Altai flora was published
in my book, Siberian Travel, Exploration and
Climbing, but nothing had previously been printed
on the subject in the English language.
Space will not allow me to give would-be
explorers of Siberian mountains any hints as to
equipment, but I should be very happy to afford
any one the necessary assistance if he or they
will write to me. The exploration of the Siberian
mountains was one of my most happy and risky
adventures. The extremely cold and pure air made
me feel in perfect condition ; very little sleep was
required, and I found that we could travel for
eighteen hours a day and keep quite fresh and
fit. It is better air in the Siberian mountains than
in the Swiss Alps or any Alps I have visited.
I believe that the air of the high Siberian Alps,
with its intense, pure and invigorating cold, would
purify man's system of almost any disease.

166

CHAPTER IX
CUMBERLAND CLIMBING — DISCUSSION OF THE FACULTY
THAT MAKES A CLIMBER
AFTER my experience in Siberia, during the
climbing of one or two difficult pieces of
rock, I made up my mind to have more detailed
rock-climbing ; and accepted a friend's invitation to
climb in the Cumberland mountains.
That Easter of 1904 my friends and I found
extra difficulties in ice-glazed rocks, which pre
vented most climbers from climbing. The follow
ing is a cutting from the Daily Mail, Thursday,
7th April 1904 : —

Climbing in Cumberland
Difficulties of Mountaineering in England
A number of climbers, who have hitherto confined
themselves to the Swiss Alps, were attracted to the Wast-
water district of Cumberland during Easter, and they have
returned much impressed by the difficulties which these
rocks present even to experienced Alpinists.
"There was next to no rock-climbing," said Mr S.
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My Climbing Adventures
Turner, the well-known Alpinist, who was one of a party
of three, " but there was plenty of snow-work, and I was
astonished at the quantity of ice and snow, and at the
mists and storms we encountered.
"Our first expedition was across the scree to the
Great Chimney, which is a moderate climb in summer.
But we found all the hand-holes and foot-holes ice-
glazed and covered with snow, and the wind tried its best
to blow us off the Great Gable.
" We found the rocks of the Arete altogether hopeless,
so we tackled the famous Napes Needle, an interesting bit
of climbing in a gale of snow and hail.
" The next morning saw us at the Pillar Rock, to see
if it ' would go,' in mountaineering phraseology.
" The scene was Alpine in a remarkable degree.
" Half an hour of snow-slopes brought us to the north
face of the rock, and then we roped.
" It only required fifteen minutes of climbing to con
vince me that the English climbers have to be made of
the genuine stuff.
" I found the ice-glazed, snow-covered rocks very cold
without gloves ; and many of the chimneys and cracks
were glazed. We crawled, wriggled, wormed and twisted
up to the cracks, chimneys and fissures, until we came to
the Stomach Traverse, which we found to be the easiest
bit of the whole climb. A zigzag course brought us to
the famous ' Nose,' a rock sticking out over space.
" On a fine summer's day this climb would be easily
' beaten,' but the drifting snow and the blizzard made it
formidable. " Once on the top of the Nose we were greeted with
such a blinding hailstorm and the mist was so dense that
we could see nothing. 168

Cumberland Climbing
" This mist made us lose our way, and we wandered
down a sloppy, marshy valley towards Ennerdale, and
finally found a farmhouse, where we got warmth and
refreshment. "We felt somewhat humiliated, as no one had ever
heard of experienced climbers being lost on the Pillar
Mountain. " As a matter of fact, our not returning to the Wastdale
Head Hotel had convinced the people there that some
thing had occurred, and a search party of fourteen set out
with lanterns and stretchers for the Pillar Mountain.
" We met them on the way, and hailed them with
mixed feelings.
"They made our leader carry a stretcher back as a
punishment for losing the way.
" One of the rescuers remarked, ' it was a bad place to
have an accident, as the carrying down would be very
difficult.' "That Cumberland climbs are dangerous we proved
again next day, when we treated the Mickledore Pass with
care, because of the ice under the snow.
" Half-way down we found a tourist who was stuck.
We hitched him on our rope. He had no nails on his
boots, and informed us that he was afraid to go down, as
a friend had preceded him at an enormous speed.
" It would have been the easiest thing imaginable for
him to have glissaded quickly, overturned, and broken his
neck, which happened to a young man in September last.
" A good climber takes no unnecessary risks and when
we tried Central Gully, Great End, and it took me over an
hour getting io yards across an ice wall, my friends
decided that they could not hold me if I slipped.
Therefore we had the courage to turn back. I am certain
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My Climbing Adventures
that the Cumberland climbs will increasingly attract the
sound in mind, body and limb."
The ice and snow climbs are not always to be
had in the crags, but what would be considered
impossible in the Swiss Alps is attempted and often
climbed when they do get snow and ice in Cumber
land ; just in the same way as rock-climbs in
Cumberland (that is, the first-class climbs) are very
much more difficult than most of the noted difficult
climbs in Switzerland. The only reason why rock
of the same degree of difficulty is very rarely
climbed in Switzerland is because the Swiss climbs
are four or five times longer, and the rarity of the
air has to be reckoned with. There is also some
thing in the depth of the chasm or precipice under
neath the climber which has some effect. Anything
over ioo feet of a sheer drop will be just as fatal
as iooo feet or even 5000 feet ; but instinct makes
the average climber very much more cautious if he
sees a clear drop of 5000 feet beneath him while
he is climbing. It is difficult to understand why
this is so ; and to some of the expert and most soul-
inspired mountaineers it never really makes any
difference. As a matter of fact, the expert climber
cannot be any more exacting and cautious at 5000
feet than he is with a 25-feet drop beneath him ; he
170

Cumberland Climbing
would never climb long enough to become expert
unless he was desperately accurate.
This characteristic becomes so pronounced in
the expert climber that he often finds himself walk
ing downstairs in the most careful and deliberate
manner ; and even while climbing a harmless piece
of rock or snow he does it without any semblance of
carelessness. My friend Binns of Sunderland made
a slip or two while I climbed with him in the Alps,
and he argued that every climber should know how
to slip and save himself. I argued that the habit
of taking the slightest chance, or of risking a slip,
because he had the confidence of being able to
save himself, would in time produce that character
istic of carelessness which would probably prove
fatal. I have read time after time that amongst the
expert climbers fatalities are rare, but I don't accept
that statement as correct. It is very human to
become over-confident in climbing, like it is at
other games of skill, such as boxing, fencing, golf,
etc. ; and over-confidence produces the slip on the
mountain and its penalty, as at other skilful pursuits.
The over -confident climber, however expert he
is considered to be, reduces himself to the novice's
risks of " the fatal slip," as soon as that confidence
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My Climbing Adventures
becomes characteristic. Nobody that I have ever
climbed with has had to complain of my loosening
stones whilst leading, or of making a slip that could
be prevented by careful movement : but I have had
to complain to my climbing companions about over-
confidence and loosening stones. On the other
hand, I have been accused by New Zealand climb
ing companions of taking undue risks by continuing
a climb during severe storms ; this brings me to
another of the causes of fatal accidents, and prob
ably the most serious, judging by the fact that
eleven men lost their lives directly owing to a
severe storm on Mont Blanc, and were found frozen
to death on the gradual slope near the summit. A
climber to a great extent can tell if he can stand
the storm or not, according to his bodily condition
and what he has gone through in that way before.
For instance, I travelled 1600 miles in Siberia,
and climbed in the Siberian Alps in winter, en
countering snowstorms and such severe cold that
the cold and storms on the New Zealand Alps
did not affect me. On the other hand, my climbing
companions felt the storm and cold very much,
because they had not been used to anything more
severe. In addition to this there is a question ot
the nature of the glaciers or snow-slopes, over
172

Cumberland Climbing
which one is travelling. If it is very much
crevassed or a puzzling route, it would be madness
to continue in a storm : but in our case, the glacier
and route were very easy, even through the most
serious storm, because the slope was so gradual
and protected that the terrific wind-storm which
sometimes visits the New Zealand Alps — which is
furious enough to blow the climber off an exposed
ridge — could not affect me on the Mount Sealey
ice-slope, which was one of the climbs that raised
the question.

173

BOOK III

MOUNT NGARURUHOE, EXTINCT VOLCANO, NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER X
FIRST WINTER ASCENT OF MOUNT NGARURUHOE AND
FIRST CLIMB OF PRIEST'S CAP
EARLY in the spring of 1905, just after I
had planned a business trip to New
Zealand, I was introduced to Mr Donne, Govern
ment Tourist Superintendent for New Zealand,
who was on a visit to London. He said : " Why
don't you come and climb some of our New
Zealand Alps ; you will find them very much
more difficult than the Swiss Alps." I informed
him that I should be pleased to try conclusions
with them, if he could find me companions. The
arrangements were made between Mr Donne and
myself that I should be the guest of the Govern
ment, and that I should take Mr Clarke, the
Government guide, and have all the equipment
I required, on condition that I wrote and lectured
about the mountains after I had climbed. I
finished my business in October, and as it was
too early to go to Mount Cook district, Mr Donne
suggested that I should visit the thermal system
177

My Climbing Adventures
round Rotorua and come down the middle of the
North Island, and climb the active volcano
Ngaruruhoe. He gave me a letter of introduction
to Mr Danby Ryan of Lake Taupo, who was to
act as my guide. This gentleman thought the
condition of the mountain and the weather much
too dangerous and would not climb. He gave me
a letter to a Tokaanu policeman, Mr Sweeney.
He refused to go, but knew a Maori who had
climbed it in the summer. The Maori also thought
it too dangerous. The storekeeper at Tokaanu
volunteered to accompany me, but I afterwards
came to the conclusion he had his eye on the
prospects of my buying my tinned provisions, etc.
from him. After resting a night at Tokaanu, the
storeman suggested I should go on the coach early
the following morning and he would follow. I
started by the coach but he did not keep his word.
On the way to the half-way hut between Tokaanu
and Waiouru the road- mender got on the coach
and became curious to know how I was going to
climb by myself. As it turned out, however, I
convinced him that it was the correct thing to do,
and when we reached the road-hut he had decided
to climb with me. The prospects of plenty of pro
visions allured him on. l78

AUTHOR ON HARD FROZEN SLOPES OF MOUNT NGARURUHOE PHOTOGRAPHS
HIMSELF BY LONG TUBE.

LIEBIG RANGE FROM TASMAN GLACIER.

To face p. 178.

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
We started across rough country through
streams, and after about one hour's walking
arrived at the mountain hut. We made ourselves
as comfortable as possible, but the hut had no
chimney in it and the smoke had to go out of the
door. We had brought a Maori boy with us, and
when we awoke at four o'clock the following
morning and found it snowing he lay awake to
arouse us as soon as the snow stopped.
The winter ascent of Ngaruruhoe had never
been accomplished before, and I was not sure that
I should ever be in New Zealand again. This,
together with the persistent refusals of the different
men around Lake Taupo to climb with me, was
the sort of thing that makes a climb worth
doing. The Wellington Press from The Evening Post,
1 8th October 1905, will explain the incident fairly
well, as follows : —
First Winter Ascent of Ngaruruhoe
Thrilling Experience oj an English Mountaineer
A Night in a Blizzard
Mr Turner has come to New Zealand on business, but
he is taking a holiday for climbing while here. His first
i79

My Climbing Adventures
experience, however, has been of a somewhat unusual and
thrilling nature. Mr Turner left Wellington the other
day for Auckland and Rotorua, intending to return over
land to Wellington, and make a winter ascent of the
volcano of Ngaruruhoe en route. I gave Mr Turner what
advice I could about the ascent of Ngaruruhoe and
Ruapehu, and heard no more of him till a telephone
message this morning summoned me to a private hospital,
where I found the adventurous explorer lying in bed in
a darkened room, suffering from snow-blindness. He was
reluctant to be interviewed, but eventually I persuaded
him to tell me his story. After witnessing the wonders
of the Rotorua district, which greatly impressed him,
Mr Turner crossed Lake Taupo and made his preparation
for the climb in the little village of Tokaanu.
He failed to obtain a guide, but determined, neverthe
less, that he would make the first winter ascent of the
volcano. Accordingly he produced provisions and left in the
coach for the half-way hut. On the journey to the hut
a roadman joined the coach, and Mr Turner interested
him in the climb, and eventually persuaded him to
accompany him. He also persuaded a Maori boy to come
with him as far as the mountain hut. It snowed all night,
and the trio spent rather an uncomfortable night in the
hut, which is minus a chimney. In the morning it
cleared, and Mr Turner obtained his first view of the
snow-clad slopes of the volcano cone. The hut is not in
a good position, and there is a considerable tramp before
the actual climb can be commenced.
Mr Turner, with the roadman, skirted the foot of the
mountain for a considerable distance, in order to find an
easy ridge, but not finding one, decided to ascend by way
180

¦&¦¦*-

% *\

yw('

BASE CAMP FOR PRIEST S CAP CLIMB.

jf^i

+ ^fy

^ ^

s

SUMMIT SXOW SLOPES OF PRIEST'S CAP MOUNTAIN, NEW ZEALAND ALPS.

To face p. 180.

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
of the snow slopes. It is an axiom in mountaineering
that an easy climb can be converted into a difficult and
even a dangerous one by severe weather conditions, and
this is what happened in this instance.
After climbing some little distance the roadman
slipped and came sliding down the slope, but was saved
by Mr Turner after he had slid about 18 feet. This was
enough for the roadman, and Mr Turner asked him to
remain where he was while he made the ascent alone.
The mountain was in very bad condition, and in one place
there was three hours' step-cutting to be done in hard ice.
Climbing in a spiral route, however, Mr Turner reached
the summit of the mountain in safety, and took a number
of photographs. A strong wind had risen, and while he
was photographing the crater, his hat with his indispen
sable snow-goggles attached, was blown away down the
mountain slopes. The fumes from the crater and the
driving powdery snow gave him a bad time, and the
almost blinding glare had the inevitable result of affecting
his eyes. Under these circumstances the descent was a
trying one, but it was accomplished in safety, and the foot
of the snow-slopes was reached at 4 p.m.
By this time the roadman had taken his departure,
and Mr Turner began to battle his way back across long,
dreary wastes of snow to the mountain hut.
The snow which was frozen in the morning and had
been easy walking was now softened by the sun, and it
was a case of sinking up to the hip at nearly every step.
Under these trying circumstances an easier route was
sought, but it was found impossible to get back before
nightfall. Tired and hungry and partially blinded by the
snow-glare and drift, the intrepid climber continued his
journey in search of the little mountain hut ; but he tried
181

My Climbing Adventures
one way and the other without success. Midnight found
a blizzard raging, but still he struggled on. Two or three
times he stumbled exhausted, and about four o'clock he
was nearly delirious with the pain of his eyes and the
constant strain and fatigue.
He climbed to the top of a small hill, and finding there
a small cave about 15 feet in circumference and 3 feet
high, he crawled into it, took off his boots, wrung the
water out of his socks, and putting his feet into them
and then into his knapsack, he lay down to sleep. He
dozed for about an hour, and then woke up shivering,
just as day was beginning to dawn beyond the wooded
slopes of the Kaimanawa ranges. He witnessed a glorious
sunrise, and then knew he was safe, as he could see the
road-hut or the direction of the hut on the road. He had
steered by the aid of the compass after giving up all hope
of finding the secluded mountain hut, and his compass
bearings had been taken correctly, so he made direct for
the road-hut. At about three o'clock on Sunday after
noon he reached his destination. With the exception of
one or two short spells and the hour in the cave, he had
been on the go for thirty -three hours without food, save
for half-a-dozen biscuits that he had taken with him on
leaving the mountain hut on Saturday morning. There
can be no doubt that his indomitable pluck and endur
ance pulled him through. For the next few days he
suffered terribly from snow-blindness. The journey from
Waiouru to Taihape had to be made on horseback. He
reached Wellington, and on consulting Dr Garcia Webster,
the leading eye specialist, was ordered into a private
hospital. Mr Turner is already convalescent, and hopes
to be up and about by Monday next. One would have
thought that he had had enough of mountaineering for the
182

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
time being, but he is already planning an expedition to
climb Mount Cook.
This is a brief account of this particular ex
pedition. There is no doubt about my being
absolutely blind, with the lids of my eyes only able
to open for a second at a time during my climbing.
The drift-snow in the moonlight allured me down
valley after valley in the hope that it was smoke
from the fire at the mountain hut, which I made
sure would be lit by the roadman to attract my
attention. I afterwards learnt that, instead of this
man lighting a fire or waiting for me at all, he
hurried down to the road-hut and said he would
claim my bag and equipment if I did not get back
again, as he was sure I would be lost on the
mountain. One month after leaving the hospital I was
climbing the Mount Cook district, and two months
from that date I did the longest and most dangerous
traverse practicable to any mountaineer, viz., the
first traverse of Mount Cook. I will deal with
my climbs in the Mount Cook district in their order
as they occurred.
If you are ever fortunate enough to stand at
the door of the Ball Hut on the great Tasman
moraine, you will be able to look across the huge
183

My Climbing Adventures
hills of moraine in the direction of E.S.E. to S.E.
Your view on a clear day will embrace the highest
Aiguilles of the Liebig range, which are to be seen
from the Tasman side.
The particular attraction about this part of the
range, as Messrs Ross, Fyfe and myself started
for the climb of it (the day before Christmas Day)
was that every peak on that range was a virgin
peak — no foot of man had stood on any summit of
that range. While on our way to climb Mount
Sealey a few days before, Fyfe and I had seen
Nun's Veil, the highest peak on the Liebig range.
We picked our way across the glacier, which,
judging by the continuous falls of stones, is very
active. An occasional kea alighted to inspect us
closely. Once over the moraine we had an easy
descent round the foot of the Make Brun range,
of about 700 feet, to the level of the Murchison
valley; we rounded the Tasman moraine, which
intrudes on this valley. The Murchison River
proved much easier than we expected, as it had
formed into twelve small streams, spread over a
bed about i£ miles across. We walked through it
with little difficulty, and selected a spot to camp
which was near a waterfall. After pitching the
tent, and while dinner was being made ready,
184

SUMMITS OF THE LIEBIG RANGE FROM THE SUMMIT OF PRIEST S CAP.

AUTHOR'S PARTY ON* THE MARCH UP THE TASMAN GLACIER.
(Notice the heavy loads on the backs. We did our own portering.)

e p. 184.

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
Fyfe and I climbed up a gorge under a huge
waterfall, which looked beautiful in the sunset.
There were four breaks in the waterfall, which is
altogether about 1600 feet in height, and as they
are not named I christened them "Proud" Falls.
We washed in the clear water of its stream, and
had a good drink of pure water.
We enjoyed dinner at that camp and soon
turned in for the night, but as the first night in
camp is always a restless one, we could not sleep.
We intended to commence to climb with the dawn.
At 1.30 a.m. I crawled out of the tent and sur
prised my Colonial Alpine friends by showing
them that a " new chum " could light the fire and
boil the billy under ten minutes. We struck tent,
and at three o'clock commenced the climb up a
steep scrub-covered ridge, with the waterfall on
our right. We had decided on the route to be
taken the day before. It was my first scramble
through New Zealand Alpine shrubbery, and as
we travelled at a good speed in the dark, I
seemed to have spear-grass running into my legs
and arms all the time. It is no wonder we climbed
1000 feet in about forty minutes. The spear-
grass was so sharp that it soon made us fully
awake and ready to appreciate the sunrise of
185

My Climbing Adventures
Mount Cook. The steel-grey shadows and first
signs of dawn streaked over the peaks, shooting
up into the heavens ; other streaks met them,
until the stars seemed to gradually fade, and a
steel-grey coldness rested on the monarch of the
Southern Alps, making that peak look twice its
distance from us. The shadow soon changed
into a silver tint. The top of Mount Cook
appeared to draw nearer as the morning tint
changed into pale gold and amber. All at once
the precipitous sides of Mount Cook looked on
fire, changing into a dazzling blaze of sunlight,
drawing the slopes apparently nearer, and mak
ing the mysterious snow-capped summit look as
though it were plunging over the precipice. The
Tasman, Silberhorn, Lendenfeldt, Haast, and
other peaks were lit up in the order named.
The Liebig and Make Brun ranges were now
alight, and the dark shadows were fast fading
away from their slopes. The whole mountain
district was awake, and with its awakening the
avalanches which had been silenced by the night
frost soon developed into their loudest roars of
freedom. After this exquisite sunrise we had to turn
our attention to rock-climbing, at first over long
186 &

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
slabs of rock, but afterwards it became more
interesting. The outward dip of most of them
was very awkward for me, because I was wearing
a pair of boots too old for a climb like this, and
all the inside nails had come out. These were
the very nails I required for this climb ; so I had
to use my hands to do many of the slanting
slabs, and pulled myself across by my arm instead
of using my feet to support myself. This made
my climbing slower. We turned to the crest of
the rocky ridge, and gained one of the high
pinnacles, a snow ar£te dividing this pinnacle from
the highest rock on this ridge. We rested to take
a photograph or two. The view to the north was
very rugged, quite a sea of peaks. From here
we had three routes to select from : one was down
steep snow slopes ending in a precipice, the other
to cross the small arete and climb the remaining
rocks on the ridge, while the third (and, to my
mind, the easiest) route was to descend a snow
couloir and up the centre of a snow slope. After
two hours' steady plodding we neared the top of
the slopes, where there were two huge towers of
rock. We climbed up the edge of some very
steep snow round to the back of one of these
rock towers, and gained a ridge which practically
187

My Climbing Adventures
divides the Murchison valley and another valley
which we could not recognise. We then proceeded
to the right across a short, knife-like edge, where
we could see down the precipices of the Priest's
Cap and Nun's Veil. A huge bergschrund
was in the middle of the glacier. We could see
that the Nun's Veil, which we had decided to
climb, could not be climbed without going over
the Priest's Cap.
After enjoying a little lunch behind a clump
of rocks, trying to shelter from the cold wind,
we did not stay long. Then climbing over some
very loose rocks on a sharp rock arete, only one
moving at a time, we gained the last slopes and
were soon climbing up the final slopes, and stood
on one peak. After crossing a snow ridge we
walked up to the highest peak of the Cap. We
stood on the summit of Priest's Cap at n o'clock
on Christmas morning, when thousands of people
would be just going to church. The mountains
have a refining influence, but what could be nearer
holy thoughts than a " Priest's Cap," which was
the name that had been given to the peak on
which we were standing, owing to its resemblance
to a priest's cap when seen from the Tasman
valley ? 1 88

10,000 F-EET OF MOUNT COOK FROM SUMMIT OF PRIEST S CAP LOOKING
ACROSS THE TASMAN VALLEY.

To face p. 188.

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
We spent too much time climbing round the
rosary ridge (off our route) to enable us to climb
Nun's Veil, which would have meant climbing
down a huge chasm and up a precipice on the
opposite side : so we contented ourselves with this
victory, it being the first time anybody had stood
on the summit of any peak on the Liebig range.
We made easy work of the descent by glissading.
I might have started the account of my New
Zealand Southern Alp-climbing by the attempt
on Mount Sealey. This attempt was made about
three days after my arrival at the Hermitage, in
company with Mr T. C. Fyfe, one of the pioneers
to first scale the summit of Mount Cook. After
going over numerous ridges and snow slopes we
gained the final snow slope in the full force of
very severe wind, which blew the snow off the
mountain, almost blinding us. In addition to this,
the snow up which we were trudging (and had
been trudging for several hours) was very powdery
and soft. As we reached the rocky pinnacle of
Mount Sealey Mr Fyfe refused to go on, and
would not wait until I went on and climbed the
remaining iooo feet of Monte Sealey to reach
the summit. He said it was too dangerous, but
I was very much annoyed with him for not

My Climbing Adventures
agreeing to wait for me. I told him that I did
not hold with a climber being too afraid of bad
weather : and that unless he got used to climbing
through a storm it might some day prove a serious
matter if he was caught in a severe storm without
having practised steering his party or himself by
the bump of locality only. After my Siberian
experience, going up Mount Sealey seemed to me
quite safe and easy : but it was most exasperating
when we had travelled all day to reach the summit,
and only needed two hours to reach it, that my
companion refused to go on !
On the other hand, I must say, in justice to Mr
Fyfe, that most Alpine climbers would have
decided that he had acted correctly in refusing to
go on. This climbing in bad weather is a debatable
point ; the very bad and impossible conditions to
one man are not very bad or impossible to another.
It is a matter of confidence in the man himself, his
fitness at the time, and many other conditions.

An Attempt on Mount Elie de Beaumont
The snowfall in the Southern Alps was the
heaviest on record in December 1906, and on the
IQO

MALTE BRUN HUT.
(Author's party dig it out of the unusually deep snow, Tasman glacier.)

AUTHOR LENT A JERSEY TO THE ROADMAN AND PHOTOGRAPHED HIM AT THE
SPOT ON NGARURUHOE WHERE HE PROMISED TO WAIT.

To face p. 190.

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
8th of that month the Make Brun Hut on the
Tasman glacier had to be dug out. A few days
after that we arrived at the hut in the hope of
climbing Mount Elie de Beaumont, but the snow
storm started again and kept us prisoners for a
number of days. On the first reasonable day
Mr Graham brought a party to the hut to make
the ascent of the Dome. I had suggested, and
it was practically agreed upon, to start at 12
o'clock midnight : but as the party were going to
climb about 2.30 a.m., my companions decided to
start with them at 2.30 a.m., much against my
desire, as I thought 12 o'clock plenty late enough.
For about 4 miles up the glacier the glacier
snow was in splendid condition, and we walked
quickly, helped by a strong cold wind. After two
hours we put out the lantern and quickly ascended
the slopes. Parting from our friends, they took a
course to the right, and we turned sharp to the
left, and up some steep slopes, evading one or
two large crevasses on our left. At the foot of
the glacier we paused, and decided to take a route
towards the left of the glacier, which was the
only practical route. If there had been any other,
we should have taken it in preference, because
it looked dangerous, judging by the position of
191

My Climbing Adventures
the overhanging seracs towering over the centre
of the glacier and on the precipitous slopes of
Mount Walter. We had about 1000 feet of steep,
soft snow, some parts of which was strewn with
blocks of ice from the huge blocks which had
tumbled quite recently. We had to climb up a
groove caused by a recent avalanche, which had
buried itself in a deep crevasse. After climbing
the top of the steep groove up hard snow we
came to a snow-bridge, over which we crossed a
huge crevasse, coming to a second crevasse, which
had no snow-bridge to cross. Stamping the snow
down hard on the edge I made it secure for Ross
and Fyfe to jump after me. This was necessary,
because we had to jump up about 3 feet, and
about 3 feet across, with a rucksack on the
shoulder. I jumped and cleared the crevasse
and made the rope tight, and Ross and Fyfe
followed. We then worked to the right to evade
some huge ice seracs, which might have toppled
over at any moment. Fyfe had taken the lead
after we cleared the crevasse, and we made for
the centre between these sdracs to be out of the
line of fire in case one of them should break.
Fyfe complained of the snow being too soft
and steep in the centre. We sank up to the
192

»«;

7

AUTHOR EXPLORING A CREVASSE.

•«*";

AUTHOR CLIMBING OUT AFTER EXPLORING
A CREVASSE.

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
knees in soft snow, and some one murmured about
the difficulties. I again took the lead and plodded
on. It became steeper, and then we came to an
ice slope, up which I cut steps in face of a north
west wind, which plastered me with ice. The
ice slope was only about 50 feet. It was with a
feeling of relief that I gained the top and took a
turn to the left, along what appeared to be a
huge crevasse full of snow. I crawled over what
seemed to be the safest part of it, and we were
soon nearing the main gradual snow slope leading
to the summit. I thought the mountain was con
quered, but I had not counted upon the storm
increasing. When we reached the ridge we were nearly
blown off several times : and although we were
close to the last bergschrund, just past it and
within 300 feet from the summit, we were making
such slow progress that the impossibility of the
task became apparent.
I asked my companions what they thought of
it, and they replied, " Not much," and suggested
that we should turn back. My companions said
they had made up their minds to turn back much
earlier, but that they were seeing how far I would
lead them. One hour and perhaps less would have
193

My Climbing Adventures
seen us on the summit, but the ice-cap was too
slippery to stand on in such a strong wind. We
practically threw away our chance of gaining the
summit of that peak by starting at 2.30 a.m. instead
of 12 midnight. Mount Elie de Beaumont has no
protection by the Mount Cook range from the
north-west wind, and the snow and bits of ice
are blown up and over the summit like a dense
snowstorm, the bits of ice stinging the face. On
our way down we were covered with ice and snow,
and the severe wind made it impossible to see more
than 2 yards ahead. For the last four hours the
storm had hidden from view any of the seracs or
landmarks one might take as a guide. This led
to an argument between Ross and Fyfe as to the
route. I quickly made up my mind that if we were
going to be lost I would do the losing myself, rather
than let anyone else lose me ; but, on the other
hand, I had confidence that I could lead them off
the mountain all right. Some time afterwards,
bending down close to the snow slope, I could
see our former steps almost covered with ice.
Carefully climbing down the steep ice slope with
a bergschrund full of loose snow on our left, I
recognised two seracs which I had photographed
coming up during a lull in the storm. We jumped
194

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
the crevasse and quickly walked across the ice-
bridge and hurried past the huge overhanging
seracs, and we were practically off the mountain.
I commenced a standing glissade down a groove
which had been made by an avalanche. A little
way down this groove I stopped glissading, and
shouted to my companions to stop, but they did
not hear me in the storm. We were getting too
much speed on. Ross twisted his leg under him
against a piece of ice on the slope.
We rounded several huge crevasses, and, despite
the storm, had got safely off a most difficult moun
tain. We paused on the slopes, and Ross took a
photograph of Fyfe and myself covered with ice. I
had an icicle sticking to my moustache when I
arrived at the Make Brun Hut. We were anxious
about the party whom we had seen sheltering under
the ridge of the Dome's second peak, so we
walked quickly down to the Make Brun Hut. We
found the party were back, having climbed very
quickly to the second peak of the Dome in six
hours. The Dome is the usual beginners' climb.
We had almost completed our climb in seven hours.
Dr Fitchett, one of that party, said that while they
were sheltering under the Dome ridge they had
seen us plodding in very deep snow ; the drift -
19s

My Climbing Adventures
snow and ice swirling round and round until it
gradually enveloped us, and we were lost from their
view. Dr Fitchett expressed his surprise at our
keeping on in such a storm, and felt anxious about
our return. The one great difficulty about this
climb was the very soft snow, which we sank in up
to our hips, and had to get out of by climbing up on
all fours. Mount Elie de Beaumont is the most
exposed mountain on the Mount Cook range, next
to Mount Cook ; and being at the head of the valley,
and 10,200 feet high, it has clouds and mist cover
ing it when other peaks are clear. My companions
complimented me on my good leadership up and
down the mountain in the storm ; and particularly
on the way I had led them out of the danger of
losing our way. This, our first attempt of Mount
Elie de Beaumont, shows that the mountain could
have easily been conquered by us in good weather,
because it was virtually conquered in a gale.

Our Second Attempt on Mount Elie de
Beaumont

The storm had not abated on the high mountains
for twenty-four hours after the return from the first
196

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
attempt until the last three hours before midnight ;
and as it then looked like clearing up we decided to
start at midnight, having had a lesson about the draw
backs of a later start. It was one o'clock before we
actually started down the zigzag path to the glacier.
The lantern helped us to see the crevasses, and we
made moderate progress in rather soft snow, Fyfe
leading. After about half-an-hour Fyfe complained
of the deep snow, and Ross asked me to lead, so I
asked him to try the lead himself.
A few minutes later Ross remarked that the
snow was too soft to climb the peak ; and as he
seemed to put a damper over the climb by these
remarks, I suggested that he should return and Fyfe
and myself would continue the climb.
He did not take my suggestion, so I took the
lead, and led with less than five minutes' stop for
about three hours, plugging fresh steps in soft snow
about 9 inches deep. The soft-snow difficulty
was nothing to compare with the wind they call
north-western, which became threatening. All the
crevasses had been covered by fresh snowdrift, and
•our legs slipped into them as we neared the slopes
leading up to Mount Elie de Beaumont.
We could not see the peak, and the clouds were
travelling at a terrific rate. We decided to climb
197

My Climbing Adventures
over the Lendenfeldt's saddle to shelter from the
wind and wait for the weather to clear. On reach
ing the summit of the saddle the wind was quite as
violent as on our first attempt, and although we
descended a little way on the west coast side, there
was no shelter. We crossed near the edge of a
snow cornice (an overhanging ledge of hard snow).
Ross and Fyfe were the first climbers to climb over
this saddle, and our party was the second. I had, by
crossing over the saddle, completely traversed the
great Tasman glacier. This saddle is 7991 feet
above sea-level, but you start climbing very near sea-
level. We waited about, taking photographs for about
an hour, and the storm seemed to get worse on the
peaks. It was with a very sad heart I gave way
to the persuasion of Fyfe and Ross to give up the
attempt. A severe thaw set in, and the snow became
softer and deeper ; and later on the weather became
more broken up, so I suggested going down to the
Ball Hut as quickly as possible. This was not too
soon, because all along the glacier we could see by the
streams of water running down that the thaw was
a very severe one.
We luckily escaped a very heavy shower and
afterwards a wind-storm, which shook the Ball Hut
198

Winter Climbing in New Zealand
violently. It was suggested by Fyfe that we should
have three days' rest to enable Ross to get his ankle
better — he was limping badly after the Mount Elie
de Beaumont climb, and Fyfe's heel was bad.
The following morning, in torrents of rain, Fyfe
and I went down to the Hermitage, the weather
having broken up. It continued bad for seven days,
and we became very despondent, thinking that we
should not get the slightest chance of climbing Mount
Cook, the height of our ambition. After many
debates about the weather, it was decided that
February and March are the best months for climbing
in the high mountains. The tourists' season is from
the ist of December to the end of April.
To keep in training for Mount Cook, I indulged
in skipping-rope exercise, etc.
The one serious drawback to bad weather is that
you get out of condition, and it is necessary to keep
in the pink of condition to climb the high peaks.
While we were storm-bound in the Hermitage
we appreciated the very well-organised manner in
which Mr M 'Donald, the caretaker, runs this
" Home in the Mountains." The comforts are ex
ceptional for a place so out of the way. The cook
ing of the food at the Hermitage is better than any
I have met in New Zealand. The accommodation at
199

My Climbing Adventures
the Ball and Make Brun Huts are exceptionally
good and reasonable — ios. per day for the Make
Brun Hut, which is over 5500 feet above the sea-
level, is very much cheaper than anything in the
Swiss Alps, and a very large stock of tinned provi
sions, fruit, etc., is kept at the huts. There are, how
ever, only the Ball Hut and the Make Brun Hut in
the Mount Cook district, and there is not a single
hut on Mount Cook or near its slopes. In this
respect, climbing in the New Zealand Alps is very
much like exploration. There were no guides,
porters, or huts on the mountain, and one has to
carry one's own swag, rucksack, etc. I was very
much disappointed in not having Mr Clarke as our
guide, because he is in every respect a first-rate
climber. As he was unable to come for the expedi
tion to Mount Cook, Messrs Fyfe and Ross sug
gested Mr P. Graham, and I readily agreed. At
that time Mr Graham was chiefly a glacier excur
sion guide, and occasionally he had taken parties to
the Dome. He has since climbed most of the most
difficult peaks, and is an exceptional climber.

200

CHAPTER XI
THE MONARCH OF THE NEW ZEALAND ALPS — THE FIRST
AND ONLY TRAVERSE OF MOUNT COOK
I SUGGESTED to Messrs Ross and Fyfe that
we should make the first traverse of Mount Cook
instead of a climb. At first it was thought impos
sible, but in discussing the matter we decided that if
we could get a party to take a tent up the Muller
Glacier for us to sleep in when we got over
the mountain and down the other side, it would
make the traverse quite possible, as regards the
number of hours we should be on the go. This was
our intention right up to the time that bad weather
broke out. Then when we left the Hermitage for
the second time, we were so uncertain about the
date we should climb, that it became impracticable
to have a party waiting for us on the other side of
the mountain.
I cannot do better than quote the following
article that appeared in Truth, New Zealand,
1 6th January 1906, as a fitting introduction to the
traverse of Mount Cook. 201

My Climbing Adventures
The Ascent of Mount Cook
Previous Attempts
In view of the successful ascent of Mount Cook by
Mr Turner, F.R.G.S., and party, the following particulars
regarding previous attempts are interesting : —
It is over twenty years since the Rev. Mr Green, a
noted English Alpine climber, first essayed what was then
considered the impossible task of " topping " Mount Cook.
This gentleman, aided by the brothers Kauffman, Swiss
guides, whom he brought with him from Switzerland,
spent altogether six weeks in various efforts to make the
ascent, and on the last occasion got to within 300 feet of
the top, but thick weather coming on he had to beat a
retreat. Almost every season since then parties have been
formed to endeavour to conquer the " cloud-piercer."
Pioneers in this respect were Messrs Clarke, Fyfe,
Mannering and Ross, the well-known Wellington
journalist. In 1894 Mr Fitzgerald, an English gentleman, who
devoted a great deal of his leisure to Alpine work, left
England for the purpose of spending the season in New
Zealand, his chief object being to make the ascent of
several of our " maiden " peaks. He made arrangements
with that noted guide, Zurbriggen, whose name is well-
known to Swiss climbers, and arrived in the Colony in
December 1894.
The New Zealanders, who had been making attempts
for years to conquer Mount Cook, were very loth to see
the honour wrested from them by an outsider, so a party,
consisting of Fyfe, Graham and Adamson, was ©rganised,
202

MALCOLM ROSS ON SUMMIT OF MOUNT COOK.
He tried to climb Mount Cook for twenty years, and was
'grateful that Author's expedition gave him success at last-

PETEK GRAHAM, AUTHOR, AND T. C. FYFE OB
SUMMIT OF MOUNT COOK.

First Traverse of Mount Cook
their efforts at last being crowned with success, for on
Christmas Day 1894, the summit of " Aorangi, the cloud-
piercer," was reached, and the honour of first making the
ascent of Mount Cook, New Zealand's highest mountain,
was thus secured for New Zealanders. On the way back
to Timaru, the party met Fitzgerald and Zurbriggen on
their way to the Hermitage, and Fitzgerald's disgust was
so great at being beaten, that he would not make the
attempt. He, however, made the ascent of Mount Sefton,
and, so far, he and Zurbriggen have the honour of being
the only mountaineers who have reached the top of that
mountain.* Since 1894 various attempts have been made to ascend
Mount Cook, but until last year none were successful. In
February 1905, a party consisting of Clarke, Graham, Dr
Teichlemann, Rev. Mr Newton and Mr Low reached the
top at 4 P.M., and had to spend the night at an elevation
of 11,000 feet, it not being considered safe or prudent
to attempt to reach the camp. On this occasion the
party were roped together for thirty-five hours.
It is no wonder that this mountain has such a fascina
tion for Alpine climbers, and at the present moment there
are three English gentlemen in New Zealand who have
come here with the idea of scaling Aorangi. One of these
gentlemen, Mr S. Turner, F.R.G.S., is the organiser of
the present successful party. Mr Turner has done a lot
of mountaineering in Switzerland, Siberia, etc. He has
written a book on his travels in Siberia. In November
of last year Mr Turner made arrangements with the
Government to release Mr T. Fyfe from his duties in
Wellington ; and, accompanied by Mr Fyfe and Mr
Malcolm Ross, made a start from Timaru on 7th
* Since climbed by Captain Head .
203

My Climbing Adventures
December. The last news received in Timaru from the
party was that they were camped at the Malte Brun Hut.
This was during Christmas week. Mr Turner's arrange
ments were that the party should rest at the Bivouac
(at an altitude of 8000 feet), for twenty-four hours, so as
to be fit for the final climb. This intention was evidently
carried out, a start being made probably soon after day
light, as on neither of the previous occasions has the
summit been reached so early in the day (1 P.M.).
This paper gives a brief history of Mount Cook,
which the New Zealanders are proud of. The
paper constantly refers to the ascent of Mount
Cook, whereas we made the first crossing or traverse
over the Mount Cook summit and down the other
side. The Monarch of the New Zealand Alps
The first and only traverse of Mount Cook
It was Mr Donne's enthusiastic description of
the New Zealand Alps, and particularly Mount
Cook, which made me determined to climb it.
My companions, Fyfe and Ross, had been
training for six months, and we persuaded Mr P.
Graham to climb with us. We were a strong
party, equal to any peak in New Zealand : but we
had to wait for good weather. The snowfall was
the heaviest on record, and we made the best of
204

AUTHOR LEADS T. C. FYFE AND PARTY UP MOUNT COOK BUTTRESS. To face p. 20j .

First Traverse of Mount Cook
things for a day or two at the Hermitage. The
Hermitage is reached by coach, 96 miles from
Fairlie, which is reached by rail from Timaru.
The Hermitage, which nestles at the foot of Mount
Sefton, is built at a height of 2506 feet above sea-
level, in the midst of some of the most notable
peaks in the Southern Alps, and is as near the
snow-line in New Zealand as any of the Swiss
chalets, at 7000 to 8000 feet, are to the snow-line
in Switzerland. On Mount Cook itself there are
10,000 feet of climbing on the Hooker side, and
9500 feet on the Tasman side. This is actual
climbing (not walking), and is very much more
difficult than the last 5000 feet on the Matterhorn.
Therefore, as there is no possible chance of placing
a high camp on the mountain, and there are no
ledges to sleep on, the traverse over the summit
and down the other side may be described as a feat
in mountaineering. At least we thought so, as we
had never heard of such a big climb being attempted,
especially where the party had no stopping-place to
camp in.
A climb of Mount Cook (which had baffled so
many English Alpine-club members and other first-
rate climbers) means that the 4000 feet of very steep
snow slope has to have steps cut into it to climb
N 205

My Climbing Adventures
to the top of this slope. But if the party are only
making a climb they come back the same way,
walking down the steps already cut ; whereas on our
traverse we had not only to cut up the 4000 feet
of ice and snow slope up the Tasman side, but after
reaching the summit we had a still more difficult
task of 3500 feet of an ice slope at an angle of
45 degrees down the Hooker side. As much of
this is on a steep slope of ice at an average angle
of 50 to 60 degrees, it is much more difficult to cut
steps down than up. The traverse or crossing is
two or three times as difficult as the climb, owing
to the dangerous position in cutting steps while
stooping downwards : and the exceptionally long time
required on such an exposed mountain slope. More
over, one of the chief difficulties and dangers in the
New Zealand Alps is the sudden change of weather.
The fiercest gale may spring up on the most
promising day — a gale so powerful, that it is impos
sible to stand against it.
On 6th January we left for the Ball Hut, 14
miles away on the Tasman glacier. With all our
outfit on two horses, we spent that day and night
in the Ball Hut, but were disturbed early in the
following morning by the keas (almost tame parrots)
sliding down the corrugated iron roof of the hut.
206

First Traverse of Mount Cook
We overhauled our kit and started at eleven o'clock,
each with a swag of 30 to 40 lbs. on our backs, a
porter from the Hermitage being engaged to carry
our sleeping-bags and small tent as far as the Bivouac
on the Haast ridge. We passed the Hochstetten
ice-fall on our left over rough boulders. We
had some good rock-climbing for about 4000 feet
before we reached the Bivouac, which is a narrow
ledge under a huge boulder at a height of 6600 feet,
situated on a steep narrow couloir, or gully. We
made a fire with small blocks of methylated spirits,
and with the aid of a few sticks boiled the water,
made some tea, and were soon enjoying, lunch.
Threatening clouds began to gather round us ; a
lower stratum of cloud spread itself like a white sea
about 1000 feet below us. At five o'clock we lay
down to rest, and found the sleeping-bags, lent by
the Government, very comfortable. We intended
to rest at this Bivouac all the following day, and
start climbing the following night. It snowed after
we had turned in, and we awoke to find the morn
ing warm but cloudy. Over our breakfast of cold
mutton, bread, tea, and jam, we discussed the
prospects of climbing Mount Cook on the fresh-
fallen snow, and were all agreed that it was im
possible at that moment, owing to its avalanchy
207

My Climbing Adventures
state. I climbed some rocks above the Bivouac,
and waited a long time to get a snapshot of Mount
Cook ; and while I waited for the clouds to lift to
enable me to watch the mountain, I took out my
watch and made a stroke with a pencil on some
paper for every separate avalanche I could hear.
In the first five minutes there were sixteen, in the
second five minutes fourteen ! The mountains
were in an exceptionally bad and dangerous con
dition. After lunch Graham and Fyfe started off
to kick steps up the Glacier Dome, to save time in
cutting them when the snow froze at night, while
Ross and I tried to sleep. When they returned we
had another meal and another discussion about the
state of Mount Cook. I insisted that the avalanches
we could hear were not on Mount Cook, and if
they were, it would so clear the mountain that it
would be practically free of avalanches on the
morrow. Ross talked about provisioning the
Bivouac and staying up a month rather than be
beaten by it. I said I would climb alone if they
would not climb. Fyfe said : "What if we cannot
get across the snow plateau ? " I said I would lead
across it, no matter how deep the snow. Graham
was silent. Then I proposed that we should retire
to rest, with the intention of climbing at midnight.
208

STEEP SLOPES NEAR MOUNT COOK BIVOUAC AND LIEBIG RANGE, WITH
MOUNT PRIEST'S CAP IN THE DISTANT CLOUDS.

To face p.

First Traverse of Mount Cook
This was agreed to. Slight misty rain about nine
o'clock (which I argued was a sign of heat) made
my companions still more against climbing.
I called my companions' attention to the full
moon, which I could see through the tent roof,
showing that the clouds had lifted. I shouted out
at the top of my voice — " The moon, the moon,
we'll climb Mount Cook or die in the attempt."
This enthusiasm at that particular time was the
turning-point. In the climbing or non-climbing of
Mount Cook I had told the party several times
that they had too much respect for the mountain.
It was by moonlight we intended to get over
Glacier Dome and the Grand Plateau. At ten
o'clock we had the last full meal we should get
before we arrived back at the Hermitage, for we
could not take much food with us. As it was,
I carried a 7-lb. camera, with films, change of
clothing, rucksack, and one or two other things.
We left camp at 11. 15 p.m., quickly climbing up
the ridge and over Glacier Dome, some 8000 feet
above sea-level. We then descended to the snow
plateau, which is a huge basin about 3 miles long
and nearly 2 miles wide. We were about an hour
or two too late to get much benefit from the moon,
which was fast vanishing ; so it was necessary to
209

My Climbing Adventures
push on in the diffused moonlight reflected from
Mount Cook's precipitous slopes. We began to
ascend steep slopes dangerously near ice-seVacs
from Mount Cook's rocky ridge, which were
cracking all the time we were near them. Both
Graham and I repeatedly looked up, expecting an
avalanche ; and while we paused for Fyfe to take
his turn at leading and to be freshly roped, we saw
a huge seVac, hundreds of tons in weight, crunch
its way down into an enormous bergschrund, a huge
crack near the rocks, the rocks slanting under the
ice. It rocked from one side to the other on its way
down, and buried its whole length. The ice all
round seemed to shiver. It set us on the move
up the slope, as we were too near a wall of ice
with seracs cracking ready to break off. Graham
crawled along the edge of a fin of ice which crossed
a crevasse, and gave us the start to the very steep
slope. We were very lucky to get on to this slope
so easily, because there seemed to be no way across
a wide deep crevasse, 200 or 300 yards long, with
the upper lip higher than the lower. We were
glad when we commenced this extraordinary steep
long slope. This is the surest way to reach the ridge
of rocks 2700 feet higher up the mountain. The
first slope must be 3000 feet long without a break ;
210

MOUNT COOK BIVOUAC AND AUTHOR S PARTY.

To face p. 210.

First Traverse of Mount Cook
it is at an angle of 50 to 60 degrees, and reaches
from 7200 feet to 9900 feet, where it joins the upper
rocks of the main north-eastern ar£te. We were
pleased to find that we could kick steps some of
the way up.
The slope required all the careful climbing
possible, and it prevented us from taking more than
a glance at the beautiful morning tints ; and, later,
the sunrise of a most adventurous day. Eventually
the great slope was finished, and we stood on a
rocky, snow-capped ledge at 6.40 a.m., at a height
of 9900 feet above sea-level. Now came some
delicious rock-climbing which felt safe after that
avalanchy snow slope. The rocks were almost
vertical for about 1 50 feet, on to a narrow shoulder, a
short walk on soft snow, and another precipitous rock
climb. There were a number of shoulders of rock
covered with snow, and the sides could be climbed
up, being good rock, with plenty of hand-holes.
The climax came when we wriggled up a
shallow chimney (or crack, 2 feet wide) over an
overhanging precipice.
It was here necessary to use only the arms, as
there were no foot-holds, and after gaining the top
of this difficult chimney Graham announced "the
Top Rocks." 211

My Climbing Adventures
To gain the summit of the " Top Rocks " we
had more precipitous rock climbing, without a pause,
than we had had to gain the top of any previous
shoulder on the arete ; but we were rewarded
by seeing the last razor-like snow-corniced ridge
leading to the summit. We rested an hour on
the " Top Rocks " and enjoyed lunch. These rocks
are what Zurbriggen took to be the summit of
Mount Cook, and on a misty day any one would be
deceived, owing to the long knife-like ridge, which
leads to the summit, taking a dip quite 20 to 30
feet, and afterwards commencing to rise very
gradually, forming a corniced ridge of snow, with
a sheer drop of 5500 feet down one side of Mount
Cook and 4500 down the other side. We rested
an hour on the highest rocks, scratched our names
on a small empty jam tin, and proceeded at eleven
o'clock up the sharp snow arete leading to the
summit. I cannot remember a sharper snow arete
than the one connecting the summit with the
summit rocks. The last 5000 feet of Mount Cook
looks like a colossal obelisk of rock, split in two
by some powerful element, which has taken most
of the summit off the obelisk, and left the sharp
edge, about a quarter of a mile long, sloping down
wards from the highest summit in a south-westerly
212

y. cr~^^m - r - - , — ~y

THREE SUMMITS OF MOUNT COOK, AND LAKE PUKOKAS DOWN IN THE DISTANCE.
(Author's party photographed Mount Cook summit for the first time.)

First Traverse of Mount Cook
direction, consisting of three culminating points or
summits. The highest summit, over which we intended
to traverse, is 12,349 feet; the second summit is
12,173 feet ; and the third 12,049 feet. The summit
ridge is almost zigzag, and on this account the three
summits are not visible at the same time in any
part of the country. We plodded along carefully
for a little over an hour on the sharp ridge, only
rising about 300 feet ; then we reached the last
snow-cap of the summit (500 feet of a very steep
snow slope), which took us nearly an hour, and we
were walking on to the summit at one o'clock ;
in exactly thirteen hours forty-five minutes from the
Bivouac. For years I have considered Mount Cook one
of the most important and imposing mountains in
the world, judging by accounts of attempts to climb
it, and also by numerous photographs ; and my
ambition to conquer it was intensified after I reached
New Zealand and learnt what a great opinion the
New Zealanders had of this mountain. Some one
without my authority had put it in print that I
intended to climb Mount Cook, and the idea that
the New Zealand public would think I had made
that statement and failed, if I did not reach the
213

My Climbing Adventures
summit, made me risk anything to get on its summit ;
otherwise I would not have persuaded my com
panions that the weather was all right, while I
knew it was risky and that the mountain was in
bad condition. Mr Malcolm Ross had given up
climbing, after twenty-five years of attempts, but
decided on one more try with my expedition,
which proved successful, and he accomplished his
ambition. I had tried to imagine what the panorama was
like, and now that view was before me. The day
was wonderfully bright ; a sea of cumulus clouds
extended for about 50 miles in a north and west
direction. They were too low to interfere with
the higher peaks, about 7000 to 9000 feet high.
Heights and depths were bathed in a profusion of
light, which formed a striking contrast to the dense,
black, huge shadows of the mountains. The in
comparable sight appealed to me so strongly that I
could hardly speak. I felt overcome by a sense of
my own nothingness. These enormous precipices
of black and grey rock are void of vegetation or
even the humblest lichens, and are only inhabited
by desolate and gloomy shadows, increased or
decreased by the rising and setting sun. The rock
avalanches which we heard reminded me that
214

TWO SUMMITS OF MOUNT COOK.

First Traverse of Mount Cook
Mount Cook's precipitous rock was being splintered
and shaped by Nature herself.
The snow, which had melted by the sun, had
found its way into cracks and crevices in the rock
to await the inevitable night frost. The water had
been turned into ice, and in its expansion had burst
the rock ; but the ice held the rock until the sun
became hot enough to release its grip, and then
allowed the rock to dash itself from its giddy
height, taking with it any loose rock that might be
in its course.
I could see the green plains of Canterbury
10,000 feet beneath us in the distance, with
pretty homesteads dotted here and there. Be
tween the distant plains and Mount Cook there
were the most rugged forms and the most graceful
outlines : bold perpendicular precipices and cliffs,
with gentle, undulating slopes ; rock mountains,
sombre and solemn, or glittering with snow, and
white glaciers crawling down the mountain-side,
split into turrets, pinnacles and pyramids, domes,
cones and spires. I could see Lake Pukai, some
55 miles away, glittering in the sun. There
was every combination and every contrast that the
world of mountains can give or the eye desire.
Three ridges of rock dipped down from the summit
215

My Climbing Adventures
on which we stood. One to the north, the other to
the south, were very steep ; the one which was the
Tasman Arete, was the one down which we picked
our route. We remained on the summit for twenty-
five minutes of crowded but glorious life. We
moved down the steep snow slope towards the
Hooker ridge, intending to rest for lunch on the
first rocks, about 500 feet down. It was too hard
to walk down by picking steps, and we had to cut
steps for some distance. Fyfe was one of the only
three who had ever been up this side of the
mountain to the summit before : but as this was
twelve years ago, he did not remember anything of
the ridge or the route down. He said he could not
recognise any of the rocks because of the thick
snow on the shoulders of the ridge and thick,
ice-glazed rocks on its precipitous sides. We were
now cutting down the ice-cap, which was about
150 feet thick over the summit rocks.
Let me explain what Alpine step-cutting is.
The ice-axe is about 4 feet long, with a head
8 inches long, a pick on one side and flat on the
other, while the shaft has a sharp spike on it.
With this axe about a dozen good blows, skilfully
directed, cut a foot-hole in the ice from 6 to 8
inches long, and 4 inches deep and about 4 inches
216

First Traverse of Mount Cook
wide. The climber steps into this hole with one
foot, stoops down and cuts another step, 15 to 18
inches, lower down. To cut one hundred to one
hundred and fifty steps an hour is good work going
upwards, but downwards one hundred steps is
highly creditable. The climber, while cutting steps
upwards, must balance well, but downwards he
requires even more careful balancing, because if he
overbalances he becomes a danger to the party who
are roped behind him.
The difficulty of this traverse of Mount Cook
now dawned upon us. To go back by the way we
had climbed up — down the steps already cut, and
the snow and rocks already tested — we could have
put up a record for speed, and been down at the
Bivouac before dark. As it was, we were face to
face with thousands of feet of step-cutting ; down
slopes varying from 50 to 65 degrees of an angle,
much steeper than the roof of a house, and probably
the steepest ice slopes in the world. When we
gained the snow on the crest of the shoulder of the
first rocks, it was too hard to climb over ; so it was
necessary to climb down the side and under the
shoulder ; but on inspecting the precipitous sides,
we were much astonished and concerned to find
that the rocks had curtains of ice on them.
217

My Climbing Adventures
It was no use standing looking at them, so we
became desperate : Graham cut the ice off the rocks
and climbed down, I followed him, and as Fyfe and
Ross came after us they brushed off pieces of ice
which dropped on us and down the precipices on
our left. It was difficult to get a decent hand- or
foot-hold, even after chipping the ice off the rocks.
If the feet just rested upon a small out-jutting
rock, and the hand-holes were covered or partially
covered with ice, we were quite satisfied to step
across space to another rock ; then crawling head-
downwards, we were just able to scrape the ruck
sack under the huge icicles, which hung down over
the shoulder of the main ridge, and after a lot more
ice-smashing down the precipices, we waited under
the first shoulder for Ross and Fyfe to follow. As
a rule, it is harder for the last man to follow, but
on these occasions the first and second man
knocked the curtains of ice off and tested the ice
and rock-grips, enabling those who followed to get
a footing or hand-grip without any trouble or risk.
Each member of the party felt that we must put
forth all the mettle that was in us if we were to get
off the mountain. The climb became very risky,
bristling with all kinds of difficulties and as exciting
a climb as the heart could desire. The risky jumps
218

First Traverse of Mount Cook
and twists from one piece of rock to the other on
the apparently bottomless precipices, were too
numerous to describe in detail. We had to climb
down the side and round under five shoulders of
rock ; and each time the ice-curtain had to be cut
off and all the gymnastic performances described
above were repeated.
The ice-glazed rocks and icicles on the main
ridge became worse lower down, and we were
driven to try a crack on the right of the ridge which
had not been plastered with ice. It resembled the
famous Mummery crack on the Gr^pon-Charmoz
ridge, Switzerland, but was not so easy to get into.
It was quite as difficult as the Ker Knotts crack in
the Lake District of Cumberland. We squeezed
into it, and wriggled down like snakes, and towards
the bottom we came completely to a standstill. It
went over a vertical wall without hand- or foot-holes.
After trying the ridge again, as a last resource,
just as we seemed hopelessly stuck, I suggested
lowering each other on the rope. Ross was in the
position to go first, and he pluckily allowed himself
to be lowered the last 12 feet ; but he unfortunately
cut his fingers through making a slip about 10 feet
from the bottom. Graham climbed down with the
rope holding him, but on the last 1 2 feet his ice-
219

My Climbing Adventures
axe caught in the crack, and he gave a jerk on
the rope, twisted half a circle on the rope, pulled
the rope out of my hands and nearly pulled me off
the ledge, and finally alighted suddenly on a ledge,
giving himself a severe shaking. I therefore tried
to climb down as far as I could without using the
rope, and managed (owing to my being the shortest
man of the party) to find hand- and foot-holes,
and only needed the rope for the last 3 feet.
Fyfe then fastened the rope double round an out-
jutting rock which had been selected, and he
lowered himself down fairly successfully ; we helped
him from below to negotiate the last few feet.
Ross and I climbed off the ledge down another
small precipitous chimney, or large crack, out of the
way, and the others followed, and we roped up
again. The secret of our strength lay in the fact
that we now settled down to quiet, methodical, but
desperately accurate climbing.
I had cautioned two of our party about talking,
making suggestions, etc., and after a slip it became
apparent to them that silent climbing was safest.
Occasionally some one would get a little excited,
and shout something, but that only hindered him,
and a quiet serenity generally prevailed. I don't
believe it possible for any human beings to have
220

First Traverse of Mount Cook
extricated themselves out of a more dangerous
position. No doubt, if we could have accounts of
some disasters where the party have been lost, we
might get a similarly difficult position ; but none of
our party expected to get down that ridge without
tumbling down it. We felt the difficulties so much
at one part of the climb that Graham began to climb
down a gully leading off the ridge, but I remon
strated and insisted that we must keep to the ridge,
no matter what the difficulties were. When we
descended lower we could see that the gully would
have landed us down between the Tasman Mountain
and Mount Cook, off our track.
The very cold north-west wind sprang up and
made us change into our storm-clothes. Then we
remembered that we had forgotten all about lunch ;
but here we could see Green's Saddle, and we par
took of a little lunch. This was about 5.30 p.m.
Another hour and a quarter's climbing brought us at
6.45 p.m. to Green's Saddle. We had been over
five hours in climbing down 2000 feet of rock from
the summit to this point. This was the most
desperate bit of climbing possible.
The Saddle is over 10,000 feet high from here ;
there is a snow couloir (that is, a steep slope of snow
at an angle of about 60 degrees to 65 degrees) between
o 221

My Climbing Adventures
precipices. It is over 2000 feet long, and not more
than 20 yards wide in its broadest place. The
slope is the only way down to the Hooker Glacier
slopes. Unfortunately, the snow was frozen too hard
to kick steps, and we had to cut them on the ice
nearly all the way down. This was very slow and
tedious work, and there was a fierce wind driving
snow into our faces, up the couloir. We took turns
at step-cutting, but Graham was in the best form
and worked splendidly ; but the sun went down,
and twilight and evening shadows gathered round
the huge crags and precipices steeped in serene
dignity and silence. Steadily we descended, almost
as slowly as the shadow of the moon, whose
splendour was hidden from our sight. One hour, two
hours, three hours, four hours, and still the step-
cutting went on. We began to feel the want of
sleep, and talked to one another to keep ourselves
awake, as a slip on this ice slope would have been
dangerous, if not fatal. It was a minute or two
after I had arranged that we should talk to one
another that I felt something like an explosion in
my head, and all was blank for a few seconds. My
body had evidently swayed in the act of falling,
because I was brought to my senses by my left hand
catching on three small tacks which were left after
222

First Traverse of Mount Cook
the leather band on my ice-axe had worked loose
and dropped off, leaving these brass tacks exposed.
These small nails not only stopped my hand as it
was slipping down the shaft of my ice-axe, but it
seemed just sufficient to bring me back to my senses,
and make me clutch the ice-axe instinctively at
the right moment. Immediately afterwards, I
remembered the ice slope, and my precarious posi
tion and that of my companions ; and to warn them
I shouted out : " My head, my head, tighten the
rope ! "
A piece of a rock-avalanche had struck me on
the head as the lump of rock bounded past us down
the ice slope. We should have been dashed down
the ice slope into a huge bergschrund at the base of
the slope if I had fallen, because we had grown care
less. The exceptional length of time — about twenty-
five hours' continuous climbing, with about two hours
for stops — had brought on drowsiness, and made us
forget the precautions of backing up with the rope.
If I had tumbled on to Graham he and myself would
have gone and the others could not have held
us. I made the effort of my life not to give way.
Every time I felt faint and had to lean my head on
my arm, I warned my companions to tighten the
rope. 223

My Climbing Adventures
Graham cut steps close to the side after this, but
we could not get away from the danger of the
avalanches, to which we were exposed for three or
four hours after the accident. The occasional
whiz of a stone as it shot past and down the couloir
reminded us of our perilous position ; but, although
we descended with reckless haste in some places,
only making the scantiest foot-hold, and placing
both heels in the foot-hold about 2 feet to 2 J
feet below one another ; despite this, the slope
seemed to be endless. According to the recognised
speed for step-cutting — that is, 100 feet an hour in
ice — this slope should have taken us twenty hours ;
as it was, it took us between ten and eleven hours.
The most serious drawback on this slope was the
fact that we were cutting steps all night from six
o'clock, just after the sun had disappeared, until
between four and five o'clock the following morning,
exposed to avalanches and the danger of a slip all
the time. The huge bergschrund which is situated
at the base of this slope, and which we expected to
find almost impossible to cross, was full of snow.
In fact, the soft snow off the snow slope had
apparently slid down and filled its wide, deep, gaping
mouth, and we found a place where we crossed
without very much difficulty. 224

HOOKER SIDE OF MOUNT COOK FROM THE HERMITAGE.
(Author's expedition descended this side.)

Tu face p. 224,

First Traverse of Mount Cook
This is the chief obstacle to the climb of Mount
Cook from the Hooker side. The Hooker side is
the easiest way to traverse Mount Cook. From that
side you will climb this dangerous snow slope during
the morning ; and when you come to the great ice
slope on the Tasman side of Mount Cook, provided
it is full moon, you will get the light of the moon to
help you on the ice slope. The way we climbed it
we did not get any help by moonlight.
Once across the bergschrund we speedily forgot
our troubles, except my head. We had realised our
dream of the first traverse of Mount Cook, and
that by the most difficult route. We had an early
breakfast, but the cold wind made us hurry over
our food, and we were soon walking quickly down the
Hooker Glacier. The first signs of dawn and the
fading moonlight made the enormous ice-seracs and
blocks of this glacier a sight not to be forgotten. If
you wish to see the most extraordinary effects of
ice and snow glaciers and ice-covered rocks, go to
the west side of the Mount Cook range, which
receives the moist wind from the ocean so close to
the mountains.
We became hopelessly lost amongst the crevasses
and seracs time after time, but when we came to the
ice-fall it looked as though we should never get
225

My Climbing Adventures
through : the crevasses were hundreds of feet deep
and too wide to get across. Two or three ladders
would prove very useful on that glacier. While we
were unravelling the puzzle dawn changed into
daylight, and we witnessed our second magnificent
sunrise since we left our Bivouac 6600 feet high, on
the other side of the mountain.
The morning developed, but we were still in the
crevasses. Once off the ice-fall we travelled down
at a good speed to the bottom of the glacier. We
each had difficulty in not falling to sleep. We
arrived at the Hermitage in exactly thirty-six hours
from the Bivouac. We had climbed very fast for
such a climb, despite the number of hours, at one
stretch. In fact, we were about four hours quicker
to the summit than the only previous party to reach
it. We were four days and a half from the
Hermitage over the monarch of the New Zealand
Alps, and back again to the Hermitage.
I slept from twelve o'clock until six in the
evening, and was up to dinner, feeling none the
worse for the climb, except for the pain in my
head. It took a long time to get my cap off, which
had been driven into my head by the piece of rock.
Mr M'Donald at the time thought the cut rather
dangerous, and recommended me to go to Fairlie
226

First Traverse of Mount Cook
and see a doctor — Fairlie was ioo miles away, two
days by coach, a most trying journey. The doctor
said that the piece of rock had struck me on the
occiput, the part of the skull which is much thicker
than any other part ; and that if it had struck me
2 inches at the side of the occiput it would have
killed me. This was one more narrow escape, and
I began to think I had a charmed life. I was very
reluctantly compelled to leave Mount Sefton un-
climbed. The New Zealanders think a good deal about
Mount Cook, and not without cause. It is a
question if it is possible to find a mountain outside
the Himalayas where there is 10,000 feet of sheer
climbing from the valley. Mountains that are
18,000 feet in most ranges in the world are gradual
slopes. Where there is a mountain in South
America, Africa, Siberia or the Caucasus about
18,000 feet, you never get 10,000 feet where you
have to climb with your hands and feet. Most
peaks can be walked up to within 4000 or 5000
feet from the summit.
The last climb I had in the South American
Andes illustrates what I mean. There was no
rock-climbing with hands and feet, but simply
snow walking. The only enemy to the climber is
227

My Climbing Adventures
the rarefied air, which often produces puna, and
the very severe cold, which requires a fairly large
equipment to withstand ; but the difficulty of carry
ing any weight up the mountain increases the risk
of bringing on puna.

Mount Cook i
Several of the most prominent New Zealand
climbers express their firm conviction that M.
Zurbriggen, the famous guide, made a mistake in
thinking he reached the summit of New Zealand's
highest mountain, Mount Cook. This gave me
food for thought, and I read M. Zurbriggen's
account of his climb ; but on climbing over the top
of Mount Cook it seemed clear to me that some
mistake had been made, either as to the time he
was away from the porter, whom he left at 9000
feet, or as to the actual point he reached. In
Zurbriggen's book, From the Alps to the Andes,
he says he left his companion at a height of 10,000
feet on Mount Cook, and proceeded to the summit
himself, and he came down about 160 feet where he
left his card on a rock. In another book, called
Unwins Chap Book, M. Zurbriggen says : " He
took a porter with him as far as 9000 feet. The
228

First Traverse of Mount Cook
porter was tired, and then he set off alone and
gained the top. He quaffed half a bottle of wine,
smoked a cigar, thrust the empty bottle into a con
venient hole amongst the rocks close to the summit,
left his card within it."
There are no rocks near the summit. They
are quite iooo feet below ; but if Zurbriggen had
been on the snow on the top of the summit rocks
he would have been able to place a bottle between
the rocks like he says he did. If it had been at all
misty the summit rocks would be taken for the
summit, because from the summit rock a very
narrow ridge of snow courses downwards for some
•distance, and afterwards it gradually rises ; but so
gradual is the rise that the actual snow-capped
summit, which is about 500 to 600 feet thick, looks
like another mountain in the distance from the
summit rocks. Another fact that seems to show
that Zurbriggen was only on the summit rocks is
the time he was away from Adamson, and the
time it took both him and Adamson to get down
to the Bivouac, about eight hours. He says he
arrived about three, and drank wine, smoked a
cigar, and took photographs. This would make it
about 4 to 4.30 before he commenced the descent,
leaving about seven and a half to eight hours to
229

My Climbing Adventures
get down to the Bivouac, which he says he reached
at 12 o'clock. With fast travelling he could get
down from the summit rocks in eight to nine hours ;
but from the summit to the Bivouac is out of the
question, more especially as he says he had to go
slowly, owing to crumbling snow.
It is the easiest thing imaginable for any party
to think they are on the summit of Mount Cook on
the summit rocks. In fact, there are two or three
apparent summits when climbing up the rocks. The
remarks of M. Zurbriggen in his book, and in
Unwins Chap Book, seem to show that the New
Zealand climbers' belief that M. Zurbriggen did
not reach the summit of Mount Cook is based on a
fairly good foundation.

230

L.-

THE GULLY UP WHICH AUTHORS PARTY
COMMENCED THE ACONCAGUA CLIMB.

THE THREE PEAKS OF ACONCAGUA AND THE
3,000 FEET PRECIPICES,

CHAPTER XII
A SOUTH AMERICAN CLIMB — MY ATTEMPT TO RUSH
ACONCAGUA
I INTENDED attempting Aconcagua in 1906,
and during my lecture in Buenos Ayres I in
vited anyone in the audience to help me. After the
lecture, Mr Wedgwood, an Englishman, came for
ward and informed me that he had just come out of
the hospital, having had one of his toes amputated,
owing to frost-bite ; and that the mountain was
covered deep with the first of its winter snow. I
had to give up the idea of attempting the climb
that year; but in 1909 I went to Buenos Ayres on
business, and after finishing my business I found I
had seven days to spare. I was quite unprepared,
and so were the young men who joined me, Mr
Hardman, Liverpool, and Mr Robertson, a Scotch
Canadian. We thought that punchos (a kind of
thick cape with room for the head) would be warm
enough, and I was able to get my little tent and
some tinned goods, which I had left with Dr
Lehmann Nietzchie, Anthropologist of the Museum
231

My Climbing Adventures
de la Plata. We had to rely upon the hotel
proprietor to provide us with mules, because we
had no time to take mules from Mendoza, like
other expeditions. I had been in touch with Mr
Larden, who the British Consul (Mr Carnegie Ross)
informed me had gone to climb Aconcagua. The
following is a copy of the letter I received from
Mr Larden : —
a,th March 1909.
Ponte del Inca {Leaving).
Dear SIR, — I have just received your telegram and
translated another (as well as an earlier letter) to the
manager of this hotel.
I fear you must have been waiting some time for
an answer from this manager?
Some hopes expressed to Mr Bolland must have been
passed on to Mr Ross, and then to you, and have got
altered into something much more definite by the time
the report reached you. I am fifty-three, and further,
not able to afford the organisation of an expedition;
hence, I was neither able to carry heavy loads and sleep
out at 18,000 feet in a sack alone, nor able to employ
porters to carry tents, etc. Hence I found I was cut off
from real ascents. Knowing nothing of the Andes, my
hope was to join either Dr Hebling (an extraordinary-
enduring Swiss engineer) or Dr Reichert, and I probably
expressed to Mr Bolland hopes of Aconcagua or some
thing else. What I did do (and it was satisfactory to
be able to do it at my age and with my small resources)
was this. I went with Dr Hebling for three weeks and
232

A PEON, AND AUTHOR MOUNTED, STARTING FOR ACONCAGUA FROM PUENTE DEL INCA HOTEL IN THE ANDES.
To face \\ 252,

My Attempt on Aconcagua
two days into the heart of the Andes. Among other
things looked into Chile from a hill of, I suppose, between
16,000 and 17,000 feet oversea, besides various other walks
up hills, high from a Swiss point of view ; got among
glaciers, observed Penetenteries, animals, etc.
Dr Hebling takes mules, arrieros (who can't climb)
and camps as high as feed and pastures reach ; I think
some 13,000 to 14,000 feet oversea, but can't be sure.
Here was hard frost, and while he was quite warm, I was
very cold. Even inside a tent it freezes very hard, and
there is usually wind. He then would carry some 30 lbs.
(bags, rugs, food) up to some 17,000 or 18,000 feet, and
sleep out in the most intense cold. For me, it would
have been losing feet and fingers, etc., with my eyes open,
so I saw that the height of 20,000 feet or more was out
of my reach. I needed porters, Conway's eiderdown sleep
ing-bags and tent.
There seemed to be wind always, and even Dr Hebling
failed to get up Tupungano, though it is far easier than
Aconcagua, the wind near the top could not be faced.
He slept out three times, I think, very high up. I have
only seen the Andes, which demand great carrying power,
and a really extraordinary capacity for resisting cold.
I hear there are Chilian guides who have nailed boots
(the mule-drivers have elastic-sided boots with paper
soles and pointed toes), but I fear that I cannot tell you
anything about them. The cold and wind are the enemies,
and you are absolutely out of reach of proper treatment if
you get frost-bitten. I can assure you, however, that a time
in the heart of the Andes, with meals round open camp-fires,
hard frost at night and wanderings up among glaciers,
in which you must rely entirely on yourself, is a form of
mountaineering not to be despised. It seemed to me to
233

My Climbing Adventures
be beyond the usual climbs, say, traverse of the Matter
horn or the Gabelhorn, or up Lyskamm, which I went
one of my late seasons in Switzerland.
On the Andes I have had to talk German to my
companion and practise my book-learnt Spanish with
arrieros. I fear you will not find any English-speaking
guide, and the hotel knows nothing of ice-axes, tents, etc.
— you cannot even get boots greased. The Argentine does
not climb. I rather gather that Aconcagua would be
the mountain to try. The bases of others seem to be
two or three days from here.
Aconcagua lies only a moderate day away. I imagine
that if you waited and tried several times, until you chanced
on a day of no wind (it cannot be faced so high up with
mountain-sickness, too) you could get up. But I should say
you must talk Spanish. I can't afford the expense of such
a try, and as said, I can't stand the carrying and cold of
Dr Hebling's economical way. So I am contenting
myself with my photos and notes, and I go on to see
Chile on Saturday, 6th March.
By the way, when Dr Hebling went up Aconcagua,
he walked for some twenty-four hours without food. Even
he could only (above 6000 metres) do some three paces
at a time, and could carry nothing. This is rather a
rambling answer to yours, but I have just been a long
mule expedition. — I am, yours truly,
Walter Larden.
Samuel Turner, Esq.
I let my friends read this letter, but it had the
effect of making them afraid of the cold. We
started for the Andes, reaching Ponte del Inca the
234

MOUNT ACONCAGUA FROM THE VALLEY, AND AUTHOR S PARTY.

To face p. 234.

My Attempt on Aconcagua
following morning. I hurriedly arranged with the
hotel proprietor to get us two Spanish peons who
knew the way to Aconcagua. Soon after lunch
I climbed a mountain about 4000 feet from behind
the hotel, which gave me a good look at Aconcagua
and the neighbouring peaks. The mountains do
not seem to be imposing, because they are all
gradual slopes.
I arrived back at the hotel for dinner, and after
dinner made arrangements for starting the following
morning. Owing to the difficulties and dangers
of the cold, and lateness of the season, predicted by
the peons, it took me all my time to get my two
friends to fulfil their promise to come with me.
We were unable to get the all-important sleeping-
bags, and had to content ourselves with punchos,
one of them being made into a sleeping-bag. The
provisions supplied us by the hotel proprietor were
very poor and extortionate in price. We started for
Aconcagua at about eleven o'clock : our party
consisted of Mr Hardman, Mr Robertson, two
Spanish peons, myself, and the muleteer, with eleven
mules. Five of these mules were pack-mules and
we were mounted on six. I could speak about
four words of Spanish but Messrs Robertson and
Hardman could speak the language very well. I
235

My Climbing Adventures
had hoped to get help from my companions when;
on the mountain. We crossed the railway bridge
over the line, and for the first few miles the road
was good, but leaving the railway line we travelled
along a mule-path up to a small lake. After this lake
there is no recognisable track, and we travelled on
the slopes of the mountains and crossed and recrossed
the mountain torrents of Orcones and Aconcagua.
The edges of these rivers made some interesting
but slow going. We had a good view of Acon
cagua from the valley Orcones, and only lost the
nearer view of its precipices showing its three peaks
when we neared its slopes : then Mount Orcones
stood out very prominently. We continued our
journey on the slopes of Aconcagua, rising higher
as we skirted its base. We paused for a rest at
the first camp, about 14,000 feet above sea, but we
had left vegetation behind before this.
Soon after we commenced a very steep mule-
path, which was very difficult for the mules to climb
and awkward riding. We reached the 16,000-feet
camp, feeling very sore, and were not long before
we unpacked the mules and let the muleteer take
them some 15 miles down the valley to find
fodder. In making our camp we had plenty of saddles,
236

3^~~~~ AUTHOR ON ACONCAGUA, AND MOUNT ORCONES IN BACKGROUND. To face p. 236.

My Attempt on Aconcagua
rugs and sheets to make ourselves comfortable :
and besides this, we had the most ideal huge
boulder possible to afford us shelter. There was
really no need to crowd into the little tent, but three
of us tried to sleep in my little tent with saddles
placed at the windy side. We made ourselves
too warm, and the air inside the little tent became
very impure. We were up fairly early the following
morning, but later than I had intended, so I made
up my mind to go up the gully opposite the camp
instead of going up the gradual slope. This was
a mistake. At 16,000 feet one must move with
care and glide along without jerking the body ; but
up the gully we climbed. It was a kind of scoria, and
one could not walk up it with the flat foot in the
necessary way. It was necessary to dig the toes
in and take every precaution to prevent one foot
slipping down with the powdery scoria while we
dug the other foot into it. This route caused us
five times as much work as taking the natural ridge
shown on the plan drawn for me by Mr Wedgwood.
After 2000 feet of climbing we were glad to halt
for a rest and a little lunch ; and after lunch we
pushed on and gained a ridge in dense clouds and
slight snow, which made us camp, owing to the
threatening nature of the weather. Our camp was
p 237

My Climbing Adventures
at an altitude of 18,500 feet, and as the clouds lifted
from time to time we had a view of the peaks
whose bases we had passed coming up the valley.
The first on the left looking down was Bodega,
next Almacen, while the head of the valley was
Mount Orcones, over 21,000 feet, with beautiful
cloud-effects, just like the fumes of a volcano. The
clouds were evidently very much lower on the
Chilian side of Mount Orcones, but the cold wind
had driven them up against and up over the summit
of the mountain for about 500 feet higher than the
summit, afterwards descending to about 18,000
feet, and passing over our camp and down the
valley Orcones to join the black snow-laden clouds
which had been blown down over the valley
between the high mountains, giving us one brief
view, which I took advantage of with the camera.
The next peak was Tolosa, 20,140 feet; then the
Penetenteries. These views of the peaks were
getting less frequent as the day wore on, and as the
mist did not clear off the ridge up which we wished
to climb, we had no alternative but to stay on
the spot where we had camped for the night. After
early dinner I turned in and tried to make the
peons understand that I wished to be left the
furthest away from the wind ; but I awoke in the
238

MOUNT ORCONES (21,000 FEET) FROM VALLEY OKCONES

To face p. 23H.

My Attempt on Aconcagua
middle of the night stupefied by the intense cold,
and found that snow was blowing all over me, in
between the puncho sleeping-bag and the puncho.
I don't know how it was I did not get badly
frost-bitten, but as soon as dawn came I crawled
out of the tent and moved my limbs about as much
as possible. We waited for the mist to lift, but it
did not show signs of lifting until the sun was well
up; then we pushed on about 2000 feet up the
ridge, and finally came to deep, soft snow, which
stopped us altogether ; and realising that it would
be impossible to reach the summit and get back
to Buenos Ayres, I decided to return to the camp
with all speed. We were none too soon, because
it had been snowing heavily on the summits of the
mountains and the clouds began to descend with
their snow. We sent for the mules, and then made
our camp ready for the threatened snowstorm, and
were not disappointed. It snowed all night, and
when the mules came up the valley the following
morning they had to walk through 6 inches or more
of snow. The whole of the mules we packed as
quickly as possible, and as soon as we reached
the bottom of the very steep mule-path to the
lower camp, 14,000 feet, we began to hustle the
mules along and galloped as fast as we could to
239

My Climbing Adventures
get away from the heavy snowstorm that threatened
to envelop us. The mist was very thick and
it was very clever of the peons to be able to find
their way ; but they had to take to the route along
the rivers, which at places seemed impossible for
any mule to pick a way along. For ten to fifteen
minutes at a time the mules by one false step could
have tumbled ioo to 200 feet of a sheer drop into
a boiling torrent. We were fortunate enough to
have only one slight accident. Mr Robertson's
mule stumbled and threw him into the stream near
the opposite bank ; but one of his feet became fast
in the stirrup, and the mule dragged him on to
the bank with nothing more than a wetting.
We were glad to get back to the Ponte del
Inca Hotel, and make ready for our departure.
The train brought the news that the winter snow
had fallen on the high pass over the Andes, and
that traffic would soon have to stop, and we learnt
afterwards, the day I was leaving Buenos Ayres,
that the snow had set in in real earnest for the
winter. I learnt what I wanted to learn about the
equipment and the way to climb Aconcagua, and
I was satisfied with the result of my rush up that
peak. It was a very expensive six days' journey
240

SMALL TENT PITCHED NEAR HUGE BOULDER ( l6,000 FEET). BASE CAMP AND AUTHOR'S PARTY WITH MULES. To kue p. 240.

My Attempt on Aconcagua
for me, costing about £65 ; but twice as much
would be enough for six weeks' exploration in
the Andes, going from Buenos Ayres and back
again. I took a large Kodak, but was glad to exchange
it for Mr Hardman's very small camera, which was
easy to carry. I believe I have taken the first set of
photographs on the slope of Aconcagua, 23,393 feet.
It requires four days from Ponte del Inca Hotel to
the summit of Aconcagua and back again ; that is,
providing that the rarefied air has been got used to
and one is in splendid condition ; but it would consti
tute a record to be able to do the climb in four days.
It is a question, however, if any one would attempt
to do the climb in less than fourteen days. I gained
the experience that I required on this mountain to
be able to climb in the Andes. Before this climb I
had no idea of the nature of the country or the
equipment necessary. The extreme cold and the
inconvenience one suffers are enough to teach one
what is necessary for success and comfort. The
water-supply is taken from the base of the mountain,
by scraping away the very fine grit until about a
foot deep you come to water. This water is not
only bad, but the fine sand or grit seems to get in
the throat and makes it sore. I could not drink or
241

My Climbing Adventures
swallow for two days, and I put it down to the
water. It is a mistake to rush the mountain, because the
rarefied air makes it extremely difficult for one.
When I took the mountain easily I found this did
not trouble me. The geological formation of the
mountains up the Valley Orcones is of extreme
interest. They are a mixture of sedimentary rock
and volcanic rock, pumice scoria all mixed up
together. It looks as though the volcano had not bored its
way through the top of the mountain before the
earth crumpled and allowed the volcanic rock strata
and the sedimentary rock to be mixed up in con
fusion. To say that these mountains are composed
of enormous cinders and ordinary shale and rock
piled up without system or design, would be literally
correct, although geologically incorrect. Standing
on the ridge of Aconcagua and looking at these
huge cinders, and afterwards travelling along the
valley passing close to them, gives one the impres
sion that it is an inferno of the most crude nature.
The volcanic rocks are all colours, red and
sulphur colour mixed with the burnt-out black.
The wind-storms not only strip the mountain-tops
and ridges of their snow, but the wind is so very
242

SMALL TENT AT l6,000 FEET CAMP, ACONCAGUA AFTER FRESH SNOW. MULES COMING UP VALLEY.

To face p. 242.

My Attempt on Aconcagua
strong that fine sand-like scoria must be blown into
the air one breathes. This may assist in causing
the sore throat one gets very quickly. I came to
the conclusion that a party of mountaineers able to
spend three weeks of the best time of the year on
the climb, provided they are properly equipped
and do not rush the mountain, would be able to
climb to the highest summit without very much
difficulty. It will be absolutely necessary for any one wish
ing to climb Aconcagua to spend sufficient time to
get fit and used to the air. I am quite satisfied
with what I did ; and I question very much whether,
at the most favourable time of the season, and given
the mountain without deep snow on it and in perfect
weather conditions, I should have been able to climb
the mountain from Buenos Ayres and back again
in six days.
My inside reason lor trying to rush Aconcagua
in this impossible short space of time was because I
felt that if I was in ordinary condition able to climb
this in such a short time, it would help me in my
belief that I can climb Mount Everest (29,002 feet) :
17,800 feet was the highest I had attained hitherto ;
16,000 feet was the highest that I had lifted heavy
stores or 17,800 feet was the highest I had lifted
243

My Climbing Adventures
stores, about 40 lbs. These were my only tests in
rarefied air until I tackled Aconcagua, and on this
occasion I was out of condition. The only real
training was on board ship, when I skipped a series
of 1000, 1500, etc., without stopping the rope by
my feet. Even this was not severe enough exercise
to get oneself fit ; and now on my sea- voyages I skip
2500 to 3000 often, without the rope catching my
feet ; and on this last journey on the Osterley I
skipped 5 1 50 on one occasion and 6696 on another
special occasion, to see what I really could do. The
6696 constitutes a world's record skip, and it was
skipped in the Red Sea with the purser, his
assistant, the third officer and two doctors counting
and witnessing the skip, which was without changing
the steps, and the step was both feet together, turning
the rope myself. I am in this way keeping myself
fit for any future climbs I may be able to undertake.
Another thing that has given me a great advantage
is the fact that I can balance anything on my chin
or nose that is at all balanceable — from an envelope
to a table or anything up to about 56 lbs. in weight.
This balance in me has helped me to climb the
mountains with as little jerkiness as possible, and
to negotiate difficult passages, which would have
required many years longer to enable any other
244

LOADING MULES l6,000 FEET CAMP AFTER HEAVY SNOWSTORM, ACONCAGUA.

MOUNT ORCONES (21,500 FEET) FROM SLOPES OF ACONCAGUA.

My Attempt on Aconcagua
climbers to perform these difficult feats with equal
degree of safety.
It is and always has been my maxim that the
best climber is the man who climbs the most difficult
mountain with the least degree of risk. Some men
climb a mountain quite safely and others are in
danger many times during that climb. My motto
is, climb safely, and afterwards climb. I have,
however, got into such serious difficulties that it
would be impossible for me to persuade my readers
that, given favourable conditions, I am one of the
most careful of living climbers ; at the same time I
must confess that when on several occasions I have
had very much opposition on an expedition, I
have made up my mind that I would rather risk my
life than give up the attempt ; and in this way I
succeeded in getting the three companions of mine
to go over Mount Cook, and encounter the most
serious difficulties, in the shape of ice-glazed rocks,
that it has been my lot to encounter. I believe that
having taken risks in the most unfavourable time,
I know the mountains in their most fierce moods
and weather conditions ; and in this respect they
present to me a more vivid and impressive picture
than if I had climbed under the usual favourable
circumstances. 245

My Climbing Adventures
The mountaineer who does not know mountains
in the winter, the off-season, and the storm, is like
the sailor who does not know the sea in a storm.
It takes all kinds of experiences to make the moun
taineer's career ; and I am pleased to say that I
am more fit, stronger and healthier to-day than I
have ever been in my life ; with an exceptionally
good pulse and heart, according to the doctors who
examined me in the Red Sea, after skipping the
world's record skip. I have a lump on one of my
ribs through wriggling up a crack on a precipice,
another lump on the occiput of my head from a
piece of a rock-avalanche off Mount Cook, and
rather weak eyes through being snow-blind on three
occasions. I have five times had the skin off my
ears, neck, and face ; but with the exception of these
minor things, I have gained everything and lost
nothing in my encounter with the mountains. I
hold the conviction that the years gained by the
lengthening of the days of climbers, if they could be
totalled up, would far outweigh the number of days
the climbers who have perished on the mountains
would have lost. Out of, say, 40,000 climbers in
Europe, there are, say, 2 per cent, fatalities during
their lifetime, but the 2 per cent, means perhaps ten,
twenty, or thirty years lost to these climbers who
246

My Attempt on Aconcagua
were killed. It only requires the remaining 98 per
cent, of climbers to gain one-third of a year each in
length of days, and the total of life lost is wiped
out. It is only natural that a climber will lengthen
his years at least by five ; and if so, it means an
enormous gain of life to the mountaineers in general.
I have heard it argued that golf has prolonged a
man of sixty's life by five years. One should just
take a look at the Royal Geographical Society
members, or the Alpine Club members, when they
are gathered together, and consider the length of
years many of them attain. The Alps have been
the givers of peace, joy, health and length of years
to many climbers. You go full of cobwebs, worried
by the world's rush and scurry for wealth, a
physical and mental wreck, and come back full of
vitality and strength. Amongst the mountains the
climber seems as free as Nature itself. The rush
of the mountain torrent into the glass-like lake in
its calm repose between the mountain ; the pure
snowfields and blue majestic glaciers which have
crawled from the mysterious summits of the
mountains ; the ever-changing picture between
the morning tint and evening glow and after
glow, which form the most beautiful sky study ;
247

My Climbing Adventures
the impressions of the storm while one is
conquering some great mountain ; the fascination
of difficulties overcome, amidst such almost ever
lasting beauties ; are things lovely enough to attract
the most indifferent and unpoetical of men. The
triumph over Nature, the training of man's faculties
of endurance, judgment, skill, resource, patience,
and many other qualities, enable a man to appreciate
life, the world and its beautiful wild and remote
parts, so that life becomes fuller and more interest
ing, while the ever-changing scenes are stored up in
the mind as picture galleries, which become a part
of the climber's nature.
The unknown or little-known peaks, passes and
glaciers are the fascinating and entrancing world
which draws the soul of the explorer and climber
even against his own will ; but the climber and
explorer realise such an entire change from the
ordinary world as nobody could realise, unless they
could be transplanted on to the mountains of the
moon or a distant planet. Who shall dare to say
that there is nothing in climbing and exploration ?
If they have not indulged in the craft, they are just
as presumptuous as is the man who cannot see what
So-and-so has to make him happy, when all his sur
roundings are against happiness, from the critic's
248

My Attempt on Aconcagua
standpoint. Climbing is not a lazy man's hobby,
and from the point of the hard work it entails, a
large percentage would criticise it, if not condemn it.
For the man who has an appetite for hard work,
and who believes it is better to wear out than to
rust out, climbing is the one hobby he should take
up. It trains him to stand the strain of any tight
corner in life that he may be unfortunately placed
in, and it enables him to overcome difficulties — one
of the best gifts this world can give, or the man can
wish for. My circumstances are against much
climbing, or I would have climbed ten times as
much as I have.

249

CHAPTER XIII

CONCLUSION

MOUNTAINEERING conveys many differ
ent meanings, and is probably one of the
most misunderstood hobbies or crafts.
This is not surprising, because it has not yet
been settled at what height the hill finishes and
the mountain begins. There are so-called moun
tains in the British Isles about 2000 feet above
sea-level ; while there are hills in India three times
that height.
If the reader's knowledge, gained by books,
photographs, or by travelling, is extensive, then
mountaineering means more or less adventure,
according to the country and system of mountains
he is thinking about.
One reader imagines that the climber cuts
steps up a vertical ice- wall ; another reader
imagines that climbing is only walking up gradual
slopes — and both are wrong. Many people who
have unfortunately been confined to the British
Isles, or their own native country district, will tell
250

Conclusion
of their mountain adventure, on what is called a
mountain ; but if it was investigated by a moun
taineer who has climbed dangerous mountains of
the world, the adventure would seem to have been
more the outcome of nerves or a kind of blunt
faculty, than of real mountain difficulties.
I have listened to an exciting tale, of how, in the
Cumberland hills, the retailer of the story walked
across a narrow strip, only 3 yards wide, between
two mountains, and there were hundreds of feet
of a drop on either side !
I have no doubt that, to this climber, that feat
was more than equal to an expert climber walking
along a i-yard corniced snow ridge with thou
sands of feet of a drop on either side.
It does not follow that it is because the novice
has no pluck that he gets down on all fours half
way across the 3 -yard -wide ridge ; it may be for
want of pluck in many cases, but there is another
factor that will produce this sense of danger.
He may have only a blunt faculty instead of
the climber's very fine sensitive faculty ; and the 3-
yards-broad ledge may seem narrower to the novice
climber than the 3 -feet ledge to the climber. Let
me illustrate more fully what I mean by fine, well-
focussed faculty. 251

My Climbing Adventures
A dog is chasing a cat, the same size as itself,
and to escape, the cat runs along the top of the 2-
inch-wide railings. The dog tries to follow, but
tumbles off. The dog tumbles off because its
faculty is not so fine or sensitive as the cat's. Both
have different natures, and men are just as widely
different. As a matter of fact, the expert climber considers
himself quite safe if he has a 2-inch hand-grip
or 6 inches foot-hold ; that is, assuming the rock is
good and sound. He would only be concerned if
on shaly or limestone rock.
The expert mountaineer never feels in danger
although he has only jumped the crevasse, or
from one ledge of the precipice to the other, by the
smallest margin. Men must be born with this fine
sensitive faculty, or they cannot become serious
mountaineers without considerable risk. Blondin
had this fine faculty, and it made the rope across
Niagara Rapids broad, and just as safe as the 3-
feet-broad ridge on a high mountain to the expert
climber. Some people would practise as long as
Blondin, and not even be able to walk the tight
rope at all.
Another illustration of a well-focussed faculty is
252

Conclusion
shown in the equilibrist being able to balance
anything. On this question I can give my own experience
as to how it is a gift, being myself an equilibrist.
I have had this fineness of faculty or well-
focussed balance since I was very young, and while
other boys crawled on hands and knees I have run
at full speed on a parapet 2 feet wide with 200
feet of a drop on one side. I found the balancing
faculty so well developed that with practice I found
I was able to balance as small a piece of paper as
it is possible for any man to balance.
I can also balance any balanceable piece of
furniture up to 60 lbs. weight. This same faculty
enables me to jump and turn the skipping-rope
round over my head and under my feet three times
before they touch the ground, also skip 200 times in
a minute ; while this faculty, combined with strength,
has enabled me to skip 6696 skips in forty minutes
without stopping the rope, as shown by the following
copy of certificate : —
£. M.S. Osterley {at Sea).
26/10/10.
This is to certify that Mr Samuel Turner of London,
a passenger per this ship from Australia to London,
has this day (in the Red Sea) skipped with both feet
together, and without stopping the rope, 6696 times.
Q 253

My Climbing Adventures
The skip took forty minutes and was witnessed by
the following persons, who counted and scored as the
skip progressed : —
L. V. James, ^rd Officer.
R. Sydney Helley, $th Officer.
J. Sparks, Purser.
I was present during the whole of the skip by Mr
Turner, examined him immediately afterwards, and found
him by no means exhausted and, in my opinion, capable
of continuing the skip for a considerable time longer.
Arthur Drysdale, M.B.
This feat required considerable balance, as the
ship rolled.
The fine, well - focussed sensitive faculty and
exceptional strength and endurance rarely go
together. One is used to seeing the sensitive
faculty in a nervous person ; and that sensitiveness
is often looked upon as timidity, and a drawback,
while in the strong-willed man it is a great gift.
The climber is more or less sensitive to his
environments, according to this faculty. It enables
him to feel the slightest give of the rock or ice,
hand- or foot-holds.
All these gifts and developments in the athlete
are at a serious discount if the climber is not a
true-born mountaineer — one who loves the moun
tains, because they allow the rugged nature of
254

MOUNT ORCONES, AND AUTHOR OX SLOPES OF
ACONCAGUA, OVER 20,000 FEET.

ONE OF THE AUTHOR S PROOFS OF EQUILIBRIUM. IN
BOTANICAL GARDENS, KANDV, CEYLON.

To tace p. 254,

Conclusion
the man to hurl itself against Nature's difficulties
without restraint ; to feed on conquests ; with in
tense zeal and enthusiasm comes that spark of genius
akin to madness, making one climb like a man
inspired. With this zeal man will get through
adventures and have escapes that ordinary climbers
would succumb to.
It was this zeal that made me cross Siberia in
winter, and made me plod on against all opposition ;
but I was eventually rewarded by the Russian
Imperial Geographical Society's medal, for dis
covering new mountains, and being the only ex
plorer to go into the Altai Mountains in winter.
This was awarded after lecturing to them in St
Petersburg. I found on Aconcagua that my low pulse helped
me considerably. My pulse is 60 to 62 at sea-
level, and was 70 at 10,000 feet on Mont
Blanc. I have found I could lift heavy stones
at 17,800 feet, and have walked with ease at
20,000 feet, and struggled for 500 feet in deep
snow at a height of from 20,000 feet to 20,500 feet.
The low pulse is the most important gift for the
exceptional high climb. The pulse increases by
compound interest 60 at sea-level to, say, 70 at
10,000 feet, but 70 at sea-level is 98 at 10,000
255

My Climbing Adventures
feet, according to one test I made on Mont
Blanc. Having gone in for all kinds of athletic sports,
I have found that being a life-teetotaller and non-
smoker has helped me considerably. The moun
taineer who does not smoke or drink, and has
never done so, will have a much better chance of
success. It is the mental as well as the pulse condition
produced by the exertion in rarefied air which tells.
There is no test that a man can climb at a great
height except by the actual experience itself —
mal-de-montagne is as uncertain as mal-de-mer,
both affect the least likely person, and depend
upon the conditions of body and mind.
The only indication that a man is fitted for
climbs in the greatest altitudes is the low pulse.
The reason why I have dealt at length with the
different qualities necessary for an exceptional
climber is because, in the first case, I wish to let
would-be climbers and explorers know what it is
necessary for them to be before they can hope
to be able to climb the highest mountains, or even
the Swiss Alps, with any degree of safety.
I have another object in mentioning my skipping
power and power of balance and pulse, together
256

Conclusion
with my rushes up the different mountains; and
this object is that I wish some day to attempt
Mount Everest ; and the qualifications set forth in
this book may be the means of getting me in touch
with some one eager to try conclusions with Mount
Everest. When I lectured to the Royal Scottish Geo
graphical Society at Edinburgh, the President
promised me the Society's gold medal if I ever
succeeded in climbing Mount Everest ; and I hope
to have a try for it one of these days.
My own opinion of the five highest mountains
in the world is, that four out of the five are
absolutely impossible climbs to man who lives near
the sea-level ; but that they may be climbed by
men who have lived at great heights and become
acclimatised. It has been unanimously agreed by the Due
d'Abruzzi, and the leading Himalayan explorers and
climbers, that K2 and its neighbouring peaks are
impossible and unclimbable.
The step-cutting necessary at 25,000 to 26,000
feet on these mountains, as well as the mountain
difficulties, make them impossible. They rise
11,000 to 12,000 feet from the glacier, with very
steep ice slopes. 257

My Climbing Adventures
Mount Bride, on which the Due d'Abruzzi has
climbed the world's record, 25,600 feet, without
reaching the summit, is the only one possible to
climb. There is a wide difference between the gradual
slopes of Mount Everest (29,002 feet) and those
of K2, the next highest peak, because K2 has a
very steep ice-slope nearing its summit, and the
summit itself seems to present overhanging preci
pices, a very difficult climb, even if there was no
question of rarefied air.
I consider the climbing of Mount Everest or
K2 a greater feat than getting to the North or
South Pole ; and probably for half a century or more
after both Poles have been properly reached, the
K2 group of the world's highest peaks will still be
unconquered. Two successive seasons in the neighbourhood
of Mount Everest, as high as possible, in the winter,
would help the climbers the second year ; and
becoming acclimatised would be the next most
important advantage to a low pulse. After this, the
well-balanced men, with well-focussed faculty, would
climb with the least jerkiness, and so help the pulse.
The superstition of the coolies was overcome in
the Due d'Abruzzi's expedition, and in the K2
258

Conclusion
district the coolies are reported to be good. That is
good progress, because in times past well-organised
expeditions have been spoilt through superstitious
coolies. Strong will-power and mental fitness of
the climber is necessary to keep awake in the
rarefied air. The nervous and fidgety climber, who
will not go to sleep properly at night in the tent,
will want to sleep on the most dangerous parts of
the mountain the following day, and very often the
rarefied air is blamed for nothing more than want
of sleep and a state of tiredness caused by thinking
about the mountain all night instead of sleeping.
I consider it just as foolhardy for a Swiss
climber, without any experience of exploration, to
tackle the Himalayas, as it is for a novice to
attempt the Matterhorn.
Climbing trees and boulders will strengthen the
arms and legs and give the beginner practice for
the acrobatic rock-climbs ; and after becoming pro
ficient in the Cumberland crags, he must have the
best climbing in Switzerland. After that the
Caucasus or, more difficult still, the Southern Alps
of New Zealand, the Siberian Altai or the Chinese
Turkestan Mountains, or the low easy climbs of the
Himalayas. After experiencing these mountains,
the great giants of the world may be attempted.
259

My Climbing Adventures
There are, no doubt, many enthusiastic climbers,
capable of great things on the highest mountains in
the world, who cannot go beyond the Swiss Alps or
the more easily climbed Rockies : and it is true that
occasionally a middle-aged man or woman, with
plenty of money, engaging mule-guides and mules,
may get up a great height on the Himalayas and
those mountains which are easiest to walk up ; but
generally the present explorers and climbers, who
have become known to the public, are the successful
few who continue to climb because of special skill
and ability which has enabled them to cheat the
mountain of another victim. I quite believe that
the present body of Himalayan climbers and
explorers would be very hard to beat ; but I am
confident that special men can be trained, if they
have the qualities mentioned by me, who would,
after a series of attempts, produce one or two of the
most exceptional gifted climbers who would reach
the summit.
There has been some very fine high climbing
done in the Himalayas, but there is no mountain
system in the world where one can find mountains
on which it is so easy to get to a great altitude, say,
22,000 to 23,000 feet. The mules can walk 18,000
to 20,000 feet in some parts. A mountain, the
260

Conclusion
height of 10,000 to 12,000 feet in the Swiss or New
Zealand Alps, may be a physical impossibility to the
man or woman who gets 22,000 to 23,000 feet
high on the Himalayas ; but although a great deal
•can be done by money and time, and great heights
•can be gained by the ordinary mountaineers, most
of the climbing, like the record climb of the Due
d'Abruzzi, has been accomplished by the very best
mountaineers. No high climb is taken at more than 2000 to
3000 feet a day. My climb in the Siberian Alps,
17,800 feet, and 20,500 feet up Aconcagua (except
the last 500 feet in deep snow), were both very
much easier than the Mount Cook climb, 12,349
feet ; and there is more mountain-climbing on
Mount Cook from the valley to the summit than
there is on almost any except the very highest
Himalayan mountains, and quite 3000 feet more
than on Aconcagua.
This shows that height is nothing to go by in
measuring the difficulty of a climb. Man has
almost conquered the earth, and at the present
rate of progress, in the near future, the only un-
•conquered parts of the world will be the apparently
inaccessible mountains.
The progress of man, in his ability to stand
261

My Climbing Adventures
rarefied air, and the heights he has attained of
recent years on the highest mountains in the world,
is evidence, to my mind, that all the earth's
mountains will be conquered by man in the not
distant future.

262

APPENDIX

APPENDIX
SIBERIAN AND SOUTH AMERICAN
OUTFITS FOR CLIMBING
The outfit and equipment for climbing in the Andes
and the Altai are difficult to think out, and as far as the
expedition to Aconcagua was concerned, I knew that
it would be the merest chance if I succeeded in reaching
the summit ; chiefly for want of time, but also for want of
a proper outfit ; and after careful study and consultation
with a climbing friend, I give below the list of things
absolutely necessary for the comfort which will lead to
success. I engaged nine mules and a muleteer from the hotel
proprietor at the Hotel Ponte del Inca, and I also bought
punchos, etc., for the peons. My expenses from Buenos
Ayres came to about .£60, including the railway fare from
Buenos Ayres.
On the list I mark B. A., after those articles to be
purchased more conveniently in Buenos Ayres.
It will not be advisable to rely upon getting mules at
Ponte del Inca, because if there are many tourists, the
hotel proprietor will be unable to spare them.
All previous climbers have got mules from Mendoza,
and taken them to Ponte del Inca. The muleteer will
drive them from Mendoza, but it would want a few days
for the journey.
It is not advisable to rely upon getting mules at Ponte
del Inca, because the mules that are there are not
265

My Climbing Adventures
sufficient even for the short excursions which tourists
take from the hotel.
We were able to get mules at the hotel, because the
tourist season had finished and it was late autumn, but
Fitzgerald's party and other parties had brought their
mules up from Mendoza.
The Transandine Railway Agent in Buenos Ayres
can supply the name of the best mule-owner.
The anthropologist and geologist, Dr Lehmann Nietzchie
and Professor Shroder of the La Plata Museum, La Plata,
would very probably join an expedition.
Dr Hebling is the leading Andean mountaineer at
the present day.
The British Consul in Buenos Ayres is very obliging,
and should be visited by mountaineers intending climbing
in the Andes.
No doubt the address of Dr Hebling could be re
ceived from the British Consul.
It is a very good plan to have boxes made that will
fit on each side of the mule, and have the contents written
down and the boxes numbered.
The hotel proprietor at Ponte del Inca will arrange
for two peons who know Aconcagua and the surrounding
district, and will be able to lead any party to a height
from which they will be able to climb the mountain.
Riding breeches are necessary, and the climber must
be able to ride fairly well, as a mule goes over very
awkward parts, along the precipitous river-banks.
There is no convenience for mountaineers at the hotel,
as a mountaineering expedition to the Andes is a rare
occurrence. It is necessary to speak Spanish or take an interpreter.
I found myself seriously handicapped in this respect.
266

Appendix

One or two English railway officers on the railway
would be willing to join an expedition, but with the
exception of the peons, it is not wise to rely upon any one
else. One of the main difficulties is the scarcity of good
water at the 16,000-feet camp.
It would almost pay to take all the Vichy Water from
England, instead of taking it from the ship. It could be
taken in leather water-bottles. We had to take water
from the base of the mountain by digging a hole in the
loose gravel. It must have been full of grit, which was
very probably the reason why it became difficult to swallow
anything, the grit in the water irritating the throat.
A large tent for the 16,000-feet camp is also absolutely
necessary, although there is a good boulder which affords
splendid shelter. It is not safe without a large tent.

Climbing Equipment, Foods, etc., for Andes
2 Whymper tents, 6 by 3.
1 small light tent.
(N.B. — Tent-pegs of iron to be got for this.)
2 mackintosh sheets, 7 by 4.
4 ice-axes — 2 ice-axe holders.
1 or 2 silk Alpine ropes (Buckingham's).
3 sleeping-bags, eiderdown or tuckett, partly of mac
kintosh, lined felt, but better with Jaeger woollen
material.
1 pair binoculars.
4 pairs goggles.
4 pairs gloves.
2 lanterns. 267

My Climbing Adventures
2 indiarubber folding cups.
Alpine boots (Dowie & Marshall's).
3 aluminium quart bottles for methylated spirits.
i aluminium quart bottle for tea.
Either i aluminium stove, or i Primus, or i Rob Roy
cooking apparatus.
i leather bottle.
Aluminium canteen.
4 doz. packets solidified methylated spirits.
Ordinary methylated spirits.
Candles, matches (B.A.).
Oil-silk bags for food.
Celluloid boxes for butter.
Food
Calculated for four people for three weeks.
Per day — 2 soup tablets (Lazenby).
i£ Army rations.
2 \ lb. tins of jam.
£ lb. tin sardines.
£ lb. peas or beans.
3 doz. Lazenby's tablets, oxtail, pea, maggi and tomato.
I doz. self-cooking soups (tomato and pea).
Saccharine tablets.
4 doz. \ lb. mixed jams, etc. (2 doz. black-currant*
i doz. strawberry and i doz. marmalade).
3 bottles essence of peppermint.
3 bottles acid drops.
2 i lb. tins assorted chocolates (Rowntree's).
i lb. plain chocolate.
4 lbs. sultanas
2 7 lb. tins of biscuits (about 6o lbs. biscuits in all)
(B.A.). 268

Appendix

12 tins apricots.
6 tins pears.
Soap ; rice ; beans (B.A.)
6 small legs mutton (B.A.)
2 joints beef (B.A.).
Syrup (B.A.).
2 lbs. cocoa ; i lb. coffee ; i lb. tea (B.A.).
6 (i-lb.) tins condensed milk.
i case Vichy water, i case Perrier (on ship).
Oatmeal (B.A.) ; 6 doz. eggs (B.A.).
12 tins sardines.
Membrille (B.A.).
2 doz. oranges ; i doz. lemons ; 5 lbs. apples (B.A.).
3 lbs. prunes.
Fresh peaches and 12 lbs. grapes (Mendoza).
Spare tins.
12 tins tongue.
4 pots Liebig ; 10 lbs. loaf-cube sugar.
Glycerine lozenges, black-currant lozenges.
Potash pellets.
Gruyere cheese ; butter (B.A.).
Rum, mate (B.A.).
Milk biscuits (B.A.).
Clothes
Jaeger suit, long stockings, extra waistcoat.
White canvas cap, storm-cap (cross-woven cloth).
2 caps for sleeping in.
Silk handkerchiefs.
Luggage
1 large-size canvas bag, locking, 3 ft. high at least.
1 of another kind, sportsman's bag, holdall.
1 bag, 1 trunk.
R 269

My Climbing Adventures
Miscellaneous
2 tubes Lanoline ; 2 tins Dubbin ; 2 prs. laces.
2 lbs. wool for cold feet while sleeping ; 1 tin Eno's
Fruit Salt.
2 doz. spools films and No. 1 Kodak for high altitudes
larger for low altitudes.
Thermometer aneroid (Watkins'), boiling-point ther
mometer ; small prismatic compass.
Alpine nails and hammer ; 2 light rucksacks.
Fitzgerald's Map.
Goertz lens fitted on No. 3 folded pocket Kodak, and
rolls of films packed in water-tight tins.
SIBERIAN OUTFIT, Etc.
{Permission has to be secured in London to take firearms
into Russia.)
2 sheets Russian 40-verst map at Stanford's, Long
Acre, London, W.C., 3 roubles.
(I had no Customs duty to pay, but it might cost £10
to £12, according to the bulk of luggage and eatables.)
Conveyance for two persons and luggage on two
sledges or two pack-horses and two riding horses, 600
versts, 300 roubles.
Hunters and six horses for ten days (hunters, 1 rouble
per day ; horses, 50 kopecks per day), 50 roubles.
Interpreter's pay, 5 roubles per day.
Particulars of boat journey from London to St Peters
burg or Riga can be obtained from Messrs Tegner,
Price & Co., 107 Fenchurch Street, London, E.C., and
W. E. Bolt & Co., 1 East India Avenue, London, E.C.
The shipper will procure the passport.
270

Appendix
• The whole journey would cost, at the outside, between
1600 to 1700 roubles, or about £168 to ^178.
The expenses for the climbing and exploring outfit are
not dealt with.
If bear, wild sheep, or ibex shooting is contemplated,
the following additional equipment is necessary : —
One '450 bore Cordite Express rifle, weighing 10 or 11
lbs., for large animals.
A gun is required for small game.
It is necessary to have a sling affixed to the gun, as
you have to ride with it on your shoulders. I took a
pistol, but did not find any use for it.
A Zeiss binocular will be found useful.
Camera. — I took a Goertz lens fitted on a No. 3 folding
pocket Kodak, and 24 rolls of films, packed in water
tight tins.
The air is clearer than in Switzerland, and a snapshot
or short-time exposure is generally sufficient.
Clothing should be similar to the climbing outfit
described in Hints to Travellers, published by the Royal
Geographical Society, London.
Dark spectacles are necessary to prevent snow-
blindness. You require valenkis (felt top-boots) and goloshes
(high-topped), which can be bought in Moscow.
A compass is not very necessary on the road, as there
are good land-marks, but you require one for the
mountains. I should recommend a small green canvas Mummery
tent for the mountains, and a larger canvas explorer's tent
for the camp at the base of the mountains. The largest
should weigh about 30 lbs., and accommodate two men ;
271

My Climbing Adventures
the small one 12 lbs., and also be suitable for two men to
crawl in.
All luggage should be taken separately and not in
boxes, or you will almost certainly be taxed for the weight
of the boxes as well as the tents. Benjamin Edginton,
Duke Street, London Bridge, makes a suitable tent.
An interpreter is necessary, unless the traveller knows
Russian, and even then he will want a companion.
In selecting a hunter I recommend one Siberian
hunter, who can speak Kalmuck, and one Kalmuck, who
is generally a good hunter and knows the district better
than the Siberian.
The hunter's pay includes food, which they find them
selves, also fodder for their horses.
You will be able to shoot what fowl or meat you
require. See that your hunter and Kalmuck take plenty
of food, or they will eat yours and you may run short.
A pony will carry about ij cwts., but this must be
reduced to 1 cwt. on the mountain slopes. To get along
quickly you commence hustling the peasants immediately
you get out of your sledge or conveyance, and do not sit
down to tea until you see them on their way for horses
and sledge. One word "skorey," is very handy, as it
means hurry.
You stop on the road at wooden huts, which in winter
are heated by a stove and are very warm. The peasant is
very sociable, and willingly brings out the best he has,
leaving the price to you.
Plenty of Keating's Powder is a necessity.
The tarakan is the insect that will trouble you most,
but this insect is not caused by dirt, as the post-stations
are kept clean.
The pleasure of Siberian sledging or travelling by
272

Appendix

droshky depends upon the condition of the roads. The
country interests you, and you are able to look about with
freedom. You can stop the bells if you object to the noise
they make. You have to take pack-horses and saddled
ponies at times, and this is very slow travelling — probably
not more than 30 miles a day — while on a droshky you
may cover 75 miles a day.
Beyond Biysk you must arrange for your own food, etc.
Take methylated spirits in liquid and a good methylated
spirit-lamp and stove, also blocks of spiritine, which are
very handy, as they go in your pockets.
June or July are the two best months for the mountains.
If you start on the ist of May, the following programme
can be carried out : —
Leave London, 1st May; arrive St Petersburg, 6th
May.
Leave St Petersburg (evening), 7th May ; arrive Moscow
(morning), 8th May.
Arrive Novo-Nicolaevsk, 14th May; leave Novo-
Nicolaevsk (by steamer), 16th May.
Arrive Biysk, 20th May ; leave Biysk, 23rd May.
Arrive Katunda, 26th May ; leave Katunda, 28th May.
Arrive Akkem valley, 29th May ; base of peaks, 30th
May.
Fourteen days' hunting and climbing, 13th June.
Arrive back to Katunda, 15th June.
Arrive back Biysk, 18th June ; leave Biysk, 20th June.
Arrive Novo-Nicolaevsk, 24th June.
Leave Novo-Nicolaevsk, 25th June.
Arrive Moscow, 31st June ; London, 7th July.
A day would have to be spent at Biysk in making
273

My Climbing Adventures
purchases. The return journey down the river with the
fast current only takes two and a half days.
To go by boat from London to Riga and back is about
,£14 cheaper return, and there is no worry with the frontier
Customs-House officers. I was helped by the Russian
Ambassador, London ; the British Ambassador, St Peters
burg ; the Minister of Ways and Communications ; Prince
Sherbatoff, the President of the Russian Imperial Geo
graphical Society ; Professor Sapozhnikoff of Tomsk
University, and the Governor of Tomsk.
It is wise to make the acquaintance of the police at
Barnaul and Biysk, and let them know where you are going.
Introductions are unnecessary.
The best hotels are the Hotel de Europe, St Peters
burg; Slaviansky Bazar, Moscow. There is only one at
Novo-Nicolaevsk. You can procure guides at the hotels at St Petersburg
and Moscow to show you the tours.
If you go in winter, you require particularly thin
underclothing, and very thick overcoats and furs, as the
temperature, inside the trains and houses is very warm,
whereas outside it is very cold. In camp you require very
warm underclothing ; it cannot be too warm, as you have
not the slightest idea of what a winter in Siberia is until
you have been through one. Even during the months of
May and June there is sometimes frost at night.
Take plenty of note-books and pencils.
Do not attempt to develop photographs except at
Tomsk, where you can go to the University.
No explorer should visit the Altai without obtaining
information from the Tomsk University. If possible, he
should also give them a lecture on the result of his tour, as
they are all keenly interested in the Altai.
274

Appendix
The climber should take exceptionally good steel
crampons, especially sharpened for the very hard ice, and
sharp, long steel nails in Alpine boots, also a particularly
sharp ice-axe, somewhat larger and heavier than the
largest Swiss Alpine axe, of the very best steel and with a
very sharp head. The ordinary Alpine axe would have no
effect upon the intensely hard ice.
The most serious difficulty in climbing Siberian
mountains is to provide oneself with warm enough cloth
ing without being over-taxed by their weight. Then it is
not advisable to rely upon getting either bread or flour in
the Southern Altai. We felt the loss of fresh bread. We
had only a few very stale rusks, which did not last a week.
If one is likely to be there in cold weather, a mask should
be worn to protect the face from the intensely cold wind
or the wind created by driving a sledge.
The outfit for climbing in Switzerland is too well
known to need mentioning, and other kinds of climbing
do not require any special outfit.

275

INDEX

INDEX

. A
Abbi, 109
Abraham, the Brothers, 60
d'Abruzzi, Due, 257-8, 261
Aconcagua, ascent of, 231-44,
255, 261
Adamson, Mr, 202
Akkem valley, 1 18-19, ^5
Alle Blanche valley, 86
Almacen Peak, 238
Altai Mountains, climbs in
the, 91-166
Altaiskoe, 104-6, bear-hunting
at, 106
Andes, the, 227, 233
Aorangi Mountain, 203
Arete, 168
Argentine, see South America

B
Balancing, powers of, 251-
57
Ball hut, 183, 198-200, 206
Barnaul, 101
Belukha, 91-3, 95-8, 117,
"3-5. I39-S8

Binen, Joseph, 50
Binns, Mr A. H., 70, 75-6,
86-7, 171
», » 4°> 83
Biysk, 91, 95, 101-3
Bivouac Peak, 207-8, 230
Bodega Peak, 238
Bolland, Mr, 232
Bosses du Dromadaire, 25
Bossons, Glacier des, 19
Bride, Mount, 258
Buenos Ayres, 231
Bye, River, 163

Cattley, P., 92, 96, 101-2
Caucasus, the, 164
Central Gully, Great End, 169
Chamonix, 19, 21
Charmoz, Aiguille des, 70-82
Cherapanoff, 149-50, 161
Chorni-Anni, 108
Clark, Mr and Mrs Inglis,
86
Clarke, Mr (N.Z. guide), 177,
200, 202-3

279

Index

Climbing difficulties, 17 1-3;
health giving and fascina
tion of, 244-49 > general
survey of, 250-62
Col des Grands Montets, 87
Col du Mont Tondu, 86
Couttet, Joseph, 19, 70
Cook, Mount, 183, 185-6,
201-30, 261
Cumberland, climbing in,
167-70 D
Dome Glacier, 208-9
Dome, the (Mount Elie de
Beaumont), 191, 195-6
Dome du Gouter, 25
Donne, E., 177, 204
Dru, Aiguille du, 19
Drysdale, Arthur, 254
Dufour Spitze, 45-6
E
Elie de Beaumont, Mount,
191-6
Everest, Mount, 165, 243,
257-9

Fairlie, 226-7
Fitchett, Dr, 195-6
Fitzgerald, Mr, 202-3

Fyfe, T. C, 184-5. 189-90,
192-204, 208-26

Garth, Mountain, 54
Geant, Aiguille du, 85-6
Geneva, Lake of, 27
Gorner Grat and Glacier, 43-6
Graham P., 191, 200, 203-4,
208-26
Grand Plateau, 24, 209
Grandes Jorasses, 77
Grands-Mulets, 20-22
Great Chimney, the, 168
Great End, 169
Great Gable, 168
Green, Rev. Mr, 202
Green's Saddle, 221
Grepon, Aiguille des, 74-5
Grepon-Charmoz, 219

H
Haast Peak, 186, 207
Halford, E. S., 19
Hardman, Mr, 231, 235-41
Head, Captain, 203
Hebling, Dr, 232-4, 266
Helley, R. S., 254
Hermitage, the, 199-200, 205,
226
Himalayas, the, 164, 259-61
Hochstetten ice-fall, 207

280

Index

Holmes, A. B., 32, 60-61, 64-
68
Hooker Glacier, 222, 225
Hornli ridge, 33
Hotels in Russia, 274

Ilam Rock, 60-68
Inexperienced climber, an,
45-5o

James, L. V., 254
K
K2, 257-8
Kaimanawa Mountains, 182
Kalmuck people, the, 160-2
Katunda, 112, 117, 163
Katun, River, 113, 163
Katunskie-Belki Mountain,
119-36, 165
Kauffman, Brothers, 202
Kennan, George, 133-4
Ker Knotts, ascent of, 6o>
219
Koksa, iio-m
Korgomskie Mountain Pass,
no
Krasnobaisk, 103

Larden, Walter, 232-4
Lendenfeldt Peak, r86, 198
Liebig Mountains, 184, 186-9
Low, Mr, 203

M
M'Donald, Mr, 199, 226
Malte Brun range, 184, 186,
I9I> x95> 200, 204
Mannering, Mr, 202
Marefski, Captain, 133
Matterhorn, ascent of the, 32,
42
Melia, 108
Mer-de-Glace, 19
Mickledore Pass, 169
Midi, Aiguille du, 19, 85
Mont Blanc, ascent of, 18-31 ;
the Aiguilles of, 70-87
Monte Rosa, 33-4 ; ascent of,
42-5*
Mountain formation, theory
of, 165
Mountaineering, see climbing
Mugnier, Francois, 70, 76, 78,
82
Muller Glacier, 201
Mummery, A. F., 71, 82
Murchison, river and valley,
184, 186
Murett, Dr, 34-5

381

Index

N
Nantillon Glacier, 72-3, 83
Napes Needle, 168
Neale, J. J., 54-60
Newton, Rev. Mr, 203
New Zealand Alps, climbs in,
177-230
Ngaruruhoe, 178-83
Nietzchie, Dr Lehmann, 231,
266
Nose Rock, 1 68
Novo-Nicolaevsk, 164, 273
Nun's Veil, 184, 188-9
O
Obi Station, 91, 96; River,
100, 113
Orcones, Mount, 236, 238 ;
geological formation of,
242-3
Oshlikoff, Mr, 1 1 1
Ouemon, 112
Ouskam, 109
Outfits, 265-75

Payot, F. K., 19
Penetenteries, the, 238
Petit Plateau, 23-4
Pilatus, Mount, 16
Pillar Rock, the, 168
Plan des Aiguilles, 72

282

Ponte del Inca, 234, 240-1
Priests' Cap, 188
Proud Falls, 185
Pukai, Lake, 215
Pulse variations, 255-6
R
Reichert, Dr, 232
Riga, 95
Rigi, the, 16
Robertson, Mr, 231, 235-40
Ross, Carnegie, 232
Ross, Malcolm, 184, 192-204,
208-26
Rothe, Herr, 23
Rotorua, 178, 180
Ryan, Mr Danby, 178

Sapozhnikoff, Professor,
9lS> 95-6. IX3> "7. 15°.
162, 274
Saptam Mountains, 96, 113-
16
Sealey, Mount, 184, 189-90
Sefton, Mount, 203, 227
Shimelovskaya Pass, 107
Shroder, Professor, 266
Siberia, climbs in, 91, 261
Silberhorn Peak, 186
Simond, Michel, 23
Sitchef, Mr, 103

Index

Ski-ing in the Altai Mountains,
114
Skipping exercise, 244, 253-4
South America, climbs in,
23x-45
Sparks, J., 254
Step-cutting, 216-17
Sweeney, Mr, 178
Switzerland, climbing in, 15-
88

Taconnaz, Glacier de, 22
Taihape, 182
Tasman Mountains, 183-4,
186, 216
Taupo, Lake, 178-9
Tavourack, 107-8
Teichlemann, Dr, 203
Thian-Shan, 165
Thompson, Peter, 54-8
Tolosa Peak, 238
Tomsk, Governor of, 96-8 ;
mountains from, 165; assist
ance of governor of, 2 74
Tomsk, 91, 96-8, 274
Top Rocks (Mount Cook),
211-12
Travelling in Russia, 98-100
Tupungano, 233

Visp, 32

W

Waiouru, 178, 182
Wallaker, Rev. A., 61
Walnut Tree Climb, 53-60
Walter, Mount, 192
Wastwater, 167
Watch Tower ascent, 60
Webster, Dr Garcia, 182
Wedgwood, Mr, 231, 237
Whymper, Edward, 38, 131
Wick, ascent of Charmoz by,
82
Willer's Peak, 131, 133

Yarlow, River, 120

Zermatt, 32, 41
Zurbriggen, Mattias, 202-3,
212, 228-30
Zurrier (guide), 40

283

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