tion of a blancmange of tempting appearance but unfortunate solidity, the result was thoroughly up to the somewhat ambitious standard set by the previous chef. On his return Graham reported all well, so very shortly after dinner we turned in, intent on a good sleep before the alarum should arouse us at the shivery hour before dawn.
I was awakened while it was still dark by the wind howling round the hut; it quivered and shook beneath the fierce blasts, and was only saved from being carried away by the wire cable which bound it securely to a great rock on the south side. There was no question of starting in such a gale, so I cuddled down into the blankets with a guilty joy at postponing those hateful moments of chilling misery to which even the most enthusiastic mountaineer is liable on being aroused at 2 a.m.
About five o'clock the wind moderated considerably, so getting up in all haste we dispatched breakfast, and left the hut at 6.30 a.m. By the time we reached the glacier the wind had dropped altogether. We crossed it rapidly, and started up a snow slope, keeping to the left of the two rock-faces that stand out a few hundred feet from the base of the mountain. Soon we came upon Graham's footsteps of the day before, and followed them to a maze of crevasses. This was my first experience of real ice work, and I am bound to admit that for a few hours I was distinctly unhappy. Once in among the broken ice we wound in and out, sometimes walking along the narrow space between two yawning crevasses, until we could find some frail snow bridge thrown across the gaping chasm, over which we must step, with fleeting, fascinated glances into the cold, blue depths beneath. Backwards and forwards we dodged amongst great blocks and pinnacles of ice which sagged and leaned at drunken angles as if they meant to fall and bury us for evermore. To me the whole place was an icy nightmare, recalling to memory
