CHAPTER XXI
THE FIRST TRAVERSE OF MOUNT SEFTON
For the journey is done and the summit attained,
And the barriers fall;
Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained,
The reward of it all,
I was ever a fighter, so one fight more,
The best and the last!
I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore
And bade me creep past.
No, let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers,
The heroes of old,
Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears
Of pain, darkness, and cold.
For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave.
The black minute's at end,
And the element's rage, the fiend voices that rave,
Shall dwindle, shall blend.
On Sunday the 9th we left the Hermitage at 11 a.m. for the Sefton bivouac. The Professor, Miss Westmacott, and Mr. Turner accompanied us up to the foot of the Stocking Glacier. The morning was perfect, hot and still, and we were all very excited at the prospect of really making our attempt after so many months of waiting. We set out on the distinct understanding that nothing should turn us back, short of accident: it was to be a do or die attempt. Our aim was to make the first traverse, ascending by Fitzgerald's route up the eastern face, which had never been attempted since he so nearly lost his life upon it in 1895, and descending to Douglas Rock by Mr. Earle's
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