Zurfluh had now to descend. He first tried the line by which we had come, but on closer acquaintance it did not prove very attractive to him. He then tried the fault, but, having sent various fragments unpleasantly near my head, he reverted to our original opinion that the rocks were altogether too rotten. After some further delay, he adopted the expedient of taking off his boots, and these precious articles were lowered with loving care, and I was exhorted to stow them away in absolute security. Bracing his nerves for the final effort, he committed himself to the cliff. He succeeded in descending fairly easily, though on the traverse into the gully he did not reject a proffered hand—an indication of a modest attitude of mind rarely attained by the professional mountaineer.
Owing to all the room available being occupied with knapsacks, axes, burkas, boots, and the like, I was obliged to follow the Tartar down the crack to give Zurfluh room to sit down and put on his boots. Accordingly, taking the Tartar's knapsack, I began the descent, much encouraged by cheery assurances that the cleft was "ganz leicht." I soon found, however, that the knapsack bulged out so far that it was impossible to descend face outwards. An endeavour to go with my face to the rock proved equally perilous. The size of the sack made it quite impossible to look over one's shoulder to prospect the next step, and its weight was so great that the exigencies of balance pre-
