CHAP. X ON THE SOUTHERN AR^TE 179 



glacier. On both sides of this the ice was thin and very rotten. 

 Numerous rocks jutted above its surface, and hitching the rope 

 over these gave me sufficient confidence to proceed. As soon 

 as the arete was clear of the rocks, it became sharper and 

 steeper. It was bare of snow, for it was fully exposed to the 

 west, and was thus windswept. It sloped steeply on the left 

 to the " bergschrund," which had prevented me from reaching 

 the arete on the north side of the rocks. The ice, however, 

 was firm, but intensely hard. My ice-axe was too light for 

 the work, and thus step-cutting was even more fatiguing than 

 it would otherwise have been. About this time I became 

 rather sleepy, and so tired that I could only go a few steps at 

 a time. To lighten my burden I tied most of it into a bundle 

 and fixed it to a peg in the ice, carrying on with me only a 

 little firewood and a couple of instruments without their cases. 

 I took one of the boiling-point thermometers out of its brass 

 tube, and carried it fastened into my pith helmet. An accident 

 to it would have detracted from the value of my long series 

 of altitude determinations, and left me dependent on only one 

 instrument ; but though I was quite conscious of this, I some- 

 how felt strangely indifferent to the risk of an accident, which 

 would have distressed me deeply. 



As -I approached the rocks of the central peak the crest of 

 the ice became broken. An occasional traverse was necessary 

 round pillars or " seracs " of ice, and it became quite clear 

 that I could not go much farther. I persevered, however, for 

 though it was hopeless single-handed to reach the summit, I 

 was anxious to ascend a couple of hundred feet higher, when 

 it would have been possible to make a traverse on to the main 

 eastern arete, and gain a view over the north-eastern part of 

 the mountain. But as I approached the rocks the ice again 

 became snow-covered. The slope to the left was less steep 

 than it had been, but the snow was in too bad a condition to 

 be crossed alone. A few yards farther up a snow cornice 

 overhung the cliff to the east. This might have supported me 

 then, but it possibly would not have done so on my return later 

 in the day. I recalled an unpleasant memory of an April 

 afternoon spent on a ledge in the Cottian Alps, waiting till the 

 cold of night should harden some snow I had safely crossed 

 in the morning. I had no desire to repeat this experience, 



