FULL VIEW 93 



at it again, time after time, till we have entered 

 into its spirit and its spirit has entered into us. 

 And always our eyes insensibly revert to the 

 culminating-point — the summit of Kinchinjunga 

 itself. We note all the rich forest foreground, the 

 deep valley beneath us, the verdure-covered sub- 

 sidiary ranges, and the strong buttresses of the 

 higher peaks. But our eyes do not linger there. 

 They unconsciously raise themselves beyond them 

 to the summit ridge. Nor do we look long on the 

 distant peaks on either hand. They are over 

 24,000 feet in height. But they are not the 

 highest. So our eyes pass over peaks of every 

 remarkable form — abrupt, rugged, and enticing, 

 and we seek the highest peak of all. And Kinchin- 

 junga is a worthy mountain-monarch. It is not a 

 needle-point — a sudden upstart which might easily 

 be upset. Kinchinjunga is grand and massive and 

 of ample gesture, broad and stable and yet also 

 culminating in a clear and definite point. There 

 is no mistaking her superiority both in massiveness 

 and height to every peak around her. 



And thick-mantled in deep and everlasting 

 snow though the whole long range of mountains is, 

 the spectacle of all this snow brings no chill upon 

 us. For we are in latitudes more southern still 

 than Italy and Greece — farther south than Cairo. 

 The entire scene is bathed in warm and brilliant 

 sunshine. The snows are glittering white, but 

 with a white that does not strike cold upon us, for it 

 is tinted in the tenderest way with the most delicate 

 hues of blue and pink. They are, indeed, in the 

 strictest sense not white at all, but a mingling of 



