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to his having worn boots, innocent of spikes or nails, as Norrmen 
generally do, he had slipped about a great deal on the snow and 
ice, and he wished to rest. Isaid that we could not afford the 
time, as it was nearly 5 p.m., and the great ‘tug of war’ was yet 
to come on, and even the long Norsk days do not last for an 
indefinite period at the end of July. I untied myself and soon 
reached the steep snow slope, which was nearly 600 feet high. 
Being partially frozen, it required very great care, and an ice- 
axe was a sine qua non. I rather feared the descent of this part 
if it were to get frozen, as the angle was very great, and a fall 
not to be thought of. Where the rocks were feasible I preferred 
them, and left the snow until the rocks were too steep to climb. 
At nearly 6 p.m. I reached the top of the col or skar, and then 
took a look around. On the opposite side to that which I had 
ascended, instead of couloirs and glaciers, close at hand there 
was an almost vertical precipice of certainly more than 3,000 feet 
in height. At its base was a weird mountain tarn into which a 
huge glacier (the sister to Midt Maradals bre) projected, and, as 
might be expected, large masses of ice had broken off and were 
floating about as little icebergs. Beyond it rose in terrific pre- 
cipices the northern aréte of the Dyrhougstinder, a continuation 
of the black wall referred to before. Looking towards the true 
Skagastélstind, 518 feet higher, I felt that I was beaten after all 
and my dream at an end, as it is difficult to imagine any 
mountain presenting a more impracticable appearance than is 
shown at first sight by this peak from the top of the ‘“ skar.” 
It stands up from the narrow ridge, an oblong-looking tower of 
gabbro. On the right is the awful precipice above the lake, and 
on the left it springs from the glacier nearly perpendicularly, 
and with no ledges at all. There seemed to be no proper aréte 
to connect it with the skar, but merely a narrow face, mostly 
consisting of smoothly polished and almost vertical slabs of 
rock. The first 150 or 200 feet seemed to be the worst, and I 
thought that if those could be surmounted the top might be 
gained, but I honestly did not think there was the slightest 
possibility of doing it. Of course there was no couloir; the 
rocks were much too steep to admit of snow stopping there. 
Behind me was another peak some 300 feet up, which seemed 
fairly easy. I thought ‘ Well! that’s better than none,” and I 
might climb it before my companions came, and then we could 
consult further about the great peak. I had just set off-to do 
this, when I saw them close to me at the top of the snow slope. 
‘What do you think of it, Mohn?’ He said, ‘‘ Well, I suppose 
that we can now only say that it is perfectly impossible.’ ‘ We 
have not yet proved it to be so; I will not give it up without 
a try, will you come?’ ‘No.’ ‘Knut, will you?’ ‘No, I 
shall not risk my life there.’ ‘I will at least try, though I do 
