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THE NEW ZEALAND ALPS

which with Boss and Kaufmann Mr. Green stood out for the night. There are several ledges accessible, but Mr. Green's party must have been upon one of the higher, for on some of the lower ledges there is room for a dozen men to stand or even lie down, though scarcely space enough for a circus or Wild West show, as Dixon humorously suggested. The light was now fast failing, and we strained every nerve to reach the big bergschrund below before darkness was upon us.

We were just in time and that was all, and the frail snow bridge was passed by our sliding over on our backs; I, the lighter man, led, and Dixon followed as steady as a rock—not a Mount Cook Rock, but the proverbial one.

We had now been seventeen hours with every nerve and muscle constantly in action, and yet, as the darkness set in and the awful glare of the sun had left us, we began to freshen up, and lighting one of our Austrian climbing-lanterns we retraced our footsteps of the morning, being most careful never to deviate from them. Soon it became very dark, for there was no moon, and we could but dimly distinguish the ghostly forms of the white-robed peaks which shut us in on all hands.

Hour after hour we plodded on. On one occasion we were brought up by the crevasse into which Dixon had nearly fallen in the morning; it had opened wider during the day, and only after walking along its line of fracture in both directions for half an hour did we discover a bridge which seemed sufficiently strong. We crossed in our usual way, sliding over at full length, and putting some weight on to our axe-handles