Mr. Eccles reached when making the first ascent by the south-western ridge. In either case one turns sharply to the south-east, and a few rock gullies and steep crags lead to the topmost pinnacle (2 p.m.).
We basked long on the warm rocks, and it was not till 3.30 p.m. that we turned to the descent. The steep slopes leading towards the Glacier du Requin required care, as the snow was in that soft and watery condition which suggests avalanches. Hastings led us across the Bergschrund, and just as we were discussing the best line to take through the séracs, a chamois appeared. It dashed down the slopes in a wild and reckless fashion, keeping to the left towards the cliffs of the Dent du Requin. We were, as usual, the victims of old tradition, and thought we could not do better than follow its tracks. We soon had to take to the rocks, and scramble up and down slopes of screes, broken by short patches of steep rock. Ultimately we forced our way back on to the glacier by crossing a long and remarkably rotten sérac. It was a mere knife-edge, some eighty feet in length, exhibiting such a state of elderly decrepitude that we expected every moment the whole structure would collapse. However, it served our purpose, and a short glissade put us on to the track we had followed on our way to the Requin, a fortnight before. Though it was past 5 p.m., thanks to the endurance that two weeks'
