Cairn Toul: An Arctic Climb 



we at length came to the Buidhe Aonach of Cairn Toul — as 

 the southern spur is named — ^where, at a height of just under 

 4,000 feet, the ridge dips a little until the gully known locally 

 as the "slichit " at the top of Coire an t-Saighdeir is reached, 

 and from here to the summit cairn is but a short ascent. 



The "slichit " was half full of snow which, by its dis- 

 coloured appearance, had probably been drifted in during the 

 storms of late September and early October, when the wind 

 was from the north-west (the more recent storms, coming 

 from the north-east, would have drifted clear of the gorge), 

 and, except with rope and ice axe, was to-day quite in- 

 accessible. 



The tracks of a fox led across the hill here, and the foot- 

 prints of a ptarmigan were visible on the snow. 



On each stone and rock fog crystals of most beautiful 

 shape had been formed during the many days when the hill 

 top had been mist-capped. These crystals, growing from the 

 windward sides of the rocks, were fern-like in form, and on 

 one stone in particular grew at every angle, radiating from a 

 central spot where a solid circular lump of ice was plastered 

 on to the stone — the whole bearing a remarkable resemblance 

 to a Catherine wheel in motion. 



Mist was now low on Ben MacDhui, across the Lairig, 

 and the sun was pale, with signs of a wide ring of rainbow 

 colours encircling it — a pure portent of unsettled weather 

 to follow. 



A thin grey mist gradually enveloped us, but there was 

 little or no wind, and consequently no immediate risk of 

 drifting snow, so we pushed on up the last short ascent and 

 soon saw, looming ghostly through the mist, the south cairn 

 of Cairn Toul, thickly plastered with snow and ice. 



And now, with wonderful effect, a rift appeared in the 

 mist, and the sky was blue above us. In less time than it 

 takes to relate, the cloud had lifted from the hill-top, reveal- 

 ing a landscape Polar in its grandeur in the steel-grey light 

 of this winter afternoon. A hundred yards distant the north 



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