Page:My Climbs in the Alps and Caucasus.djvu/333

As I declined to give up my seat on the highest point, Zurfluh was constrained to build the cairn, on which his heart was set, on a point slightly lower. Under his fostering care this point grew and waxed strong till it proudly looked over the crest of its rival that, for the last few thousand years, had topped it by a foot. After three-quarters of an hour's halt the furious blasts of the hurricane made us quite willing to move, and at 11.30 a.m. we left the summit. We rattled down the crack, and got back on to the south face without much trouble. Then, however, I distinguished myself by losing the way, and was relegated to the nominally more important post of last man. Zurfluh with brilliant skill picked up the line of ledges and cracks by which we had ascended, and we duly reached the horizontal ridge. Elated by our success, we strode boldly along its narrow edge instead of adopting the undignified procedure of the morning. Shortly afterwards Zurfluh imitated my bad example and lost the right line of descent. We could see the rock by which our knapsack was securely stowed, and our footprints were on a small patch of snow just above the wall, but we could not discover the line by which we had connected these two points. Ultimately we were compelled to make a sensational descent by a tiny cleft or crack just wide enough for toes and fingers. Its lower end opened into space, and a long, sideways jump was requisite