244 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



Photograph by Sir Ross Smith 



CROSSING THE: SOUTHERN ALPS 



Eastward the Alps reared up, serrating the horizon with a maze of glistening snow-peaks'' 



(see text, page 253). 



densed on our faces and face-masks and 

 iced up our goggles and our helmets. 



Occasionally immense cloud barriers 

 rose high above the lower cloud strata, 

 and there was no circumventing them; 

 these barriers were invariably charged 

 with snow, and as I plunged the machine 

 into them, the wings and fuselage were 

 <]iiickly armored with ice. Our air-speed 

 indicator became choked, and we our- 

 selves were soon covered white by an ac- 

 cumulating layer of driving snow. 



C/oggles were useless, owing to the ice, 

 and we suffered much agony through be- 

 ing compelled to keep a lookout with 



unprotected eyes — straining into the 90- 

 miles-an-hour snow-blast. 



A FROZEN LUNCH 



About 1 p. m. I suggested to my brother 

 that we should have some sandwiches for 

 lunch. On taking them from the cup- 

 board we discovered they were frozen 

 hard. Fortunately, we carried a thermos 

 flask of hot coffee, and the piece dc re- 

 sistance was a few sticks of chocolate, 

 which was part of our emergency rations. 

 I have never felt so cold or miserable in 

 my life as I did during those few hours. 

 My diary is terse, if not explicit: 



