be content to worship the mountains from a distance. This raised the question: Had I, besides the inborn love of climbing, the other requirements of a mountaineer? Had I the physical strength, courage, endurance, and perseverance without which nothing worth doing could be accomplished? My time was so limited that it was useless to expect to find the answers to these questions. So I decided to return and test my capabilities at a later date.
Fate, in the shape of an urgent cablegram, made it necessary for me to leave even sooner than I had expected, and I returned home almost at once.
It was two years before I was able to take a holiday again. When the chance came I set out for the Southern Alps with my enthusiasm by no means impaired. From various causes my holiday was limited to a fortnight, but short though it was it was long enough to settle the question of my capabilities. I was fortunate in always going out with parties that were under the charge of the chief guide, and which usually included no other woman. Very soon Graham realized that I was always the most enthusiastic, and often the fittest of the party at the end of the day, so he began to watch me carefully. One day three of us climbed with him to a pass immediately beneath the third summit of Mount Cook; it was the highest point to which I had ascended. As I stood on the summit I felt that my question was answered. I could do what I would. Silently I gazed at the thin, jagged ridge in front of me leading up to Mount Cook. Then and there I decided I would be a real mountaineer, and some day be the first woman to climb Mount Cook. When I had made this decision I was half afraid of it. I knew the history of every expedition hitherto undertaken; knew how trained men and guides had been beaten back time and again, and how fierce was the struggle of those few who had succeeded. Thinking of these things I wondered at my own presumption, and wisely decided to say nothing of my ambitions.
