of us, and I retired to the ladies' compartment with dignity and a determination that was worthy of a militant suffragette to stick to my rights.
The next morning, the 8th of January, was beautifully fine, so we set off in the best of spirits at 5.30 a.m. I wore the despised skirt, and Mr. Earle wisely refrained from objection. While we were coming up the glacier the day before, Graham had taken the opportunity afforded by the splendid view of Mount Malte Brun, to pick out a new route; we had therefore all the excitement of the unknown ahead of us. We skirted to the left of the rocks that rise just behind the hut, and climbed up the tussock grass and scree slopes until we came to the snow slopes leading to the west arête. We did not immediately gain the arête, but kept somewhat to the left. The rocks were good and we climbed at a fair pace. On reaching the top of a buttress which we thought connected with the main arête, we found we were cut off by an aiguille. We wasted about half an hour before we found a serviceable way over this obstacle, but at last successfully gained the west arête. We now paused for a second breakfast. From where we sat we could follow the windings of the Tasman Glacier far below us, till the white ice vanished into the terminal moraine; out of this crept the silver thread of the Tasman River, shining through shingle beds and yellow plains, until it emptied itself into the blue of Lake Pukaki 50 miles away. A south fog was drifting softly up the valley, and the bases of the surrounding mountains were soon enveloped in it, while their summits rose above, clear against the intense blue of the Alpine sky.
We followed the arête for about half an hour without any particular difficulty, the rocks being firm and good; but suddenly on turning a corner we found ourselves confronted by quite a fine bit of rock-work. The ridge dipped suddenly, a fall of about 10 feet, and then stretched out
