A Bitter Disappointment 425 
yet laid and yet it was the last week in March and I knew well 
that they usualiy laid early in January! It required little skill to 
recognize that the nest was perfectly new and unused and that 
the old birds fully hoped to use it very soon. Also it had most 
assuredly not been robbed, for there were no traces of a former 
descent through the masses of saxifrage and numerous rock-growing 
plants and shrubs I had passed on my way down. Anyway, there 
was nothing now to be done save to get out of the place as soon 
as I could, for I felt anxious about my lowering party up in the 
snows and bitter cold above me. 
And now came a supreme moment. Was it possible for me to 
return the way I had come? Obviously the rope had jambed and 
jambed badly and if this had occurred when being lowered what 
might not happen when being hauled up? A bad jamb on such 
occasions may lead to a rope parting. It is entirely a question of the 
strength of those who are hauling on it. Looking down, I saw it 
was less than 60 ft. to the terrace below, and so I decided to go on. 
After a whistle to warn those above, | gave the two blasts and 
putting all my weight on the rope slid off the nest. Next moment | 
felt the rope “rendering” and down I went, now swinging in mid-air. 
All went well until | was within 15 ft. of the ledge below and then 
once again I was suddenly checked. In vain did I whistle ‘* Lower 
away.” Could the rope be jambed again? Looking up, I felt it 
could not be, since the knot next above me was over the cliff-edge 
and I knew well that my old comrade would see that the one above 
him was all clear. The rope now gave up for a few feet and once 
again stopped. It quickly dawned on me that there must be xo 
more rope / 
It was a time for quick decision, glancing down, I saw that | 
was within 10 or 12 ft. of the rocks below. I knew that there was 
5 or 6 ft. to spare of the rope securing the sling over my shoulder, 
for I had overhauled it myself before making it fast. So hardening 
