adventurous career. Mr. Earle shouted directions as to hand- and foot-holds from below, and at last the professor also arrived safely. I went next—dangling on a rope looking for hand- and foot-holds is not exactly pleasant, but as long as you keep your head and have a good man at the end of the rope, neither is it dangerous—and in due time I arrived at the bottom. Graham's progress down, unassisted, left me with my heart in my mouth for ten minutes. I think I must have been as pleased to see him land on a safe spot as he was to get there. Once off the rocks, we shot down the remaining snow slope in a standing glissade, and very soon stood upon the Tasman Glacier. Crossing this, we reached the hut at 6.30 p.m., our climb having occupied just twelve hours. We found that in our absence Guide Thomson had arrived with a large party from the Ball hut, so the Malte Brun was full to overflowing. Under these conditions we decided to leave the following morning for the Hermitage. We left next morning in pouring rain and a head-wind that made our three and a half hours' tramp to the Ball hut anything but a pleasing expedition. We arrived there drenched to the skin, to find it also in the possession of a large party. Merely pausing for something to eat we pushed on to the Hermitage. It gradually cleared up as we neared the Hooker River, and the hot sun had nearly dried us by the time we reached the Hermitage at 5.30 p.m.
We spent the next four days, which were beautifully fine, in picnics and scrambles near the Hermitage. Our favourite spot was a small tarn half-way up the Sebastopol, known as the Red Lake. Here we returned time and again, never tiring of the glorious view of Sefton and Mount Cook which it affords. The lake is almost covered with a coppery red water weed. I never saw such lovely lights—golden, purple, and bronze—as play upon this tarn, while on a still evening the reflections of the
