May, 1892. 
FIRST ASCENT OF THE ORiEFA JOKULL. 
101 
stimulating and exhilarating nature, with none of the perni¬ 
cious effects of brandy or any such treacherous alcoholic 
humbug. In addition, it has the advantage of lasting for 
some time and keeping the mouth moist. 
As we approached the summit of the ridge, which proved 
to be a table-land of snow, heavy mist banks began to roll 
up, and fine snow to fall. Two or three miles away to the 
north, through this snow-mist, there towered up a cross ridge, 
ending towards the east in a pile of precipitous rock, crowned 
by a heavy snow-cap. It struck me that this was at least as 
high as the point on our right, but, led on by the declarations 
of the natives, we turned south after passing the last crevasse, 
and faced the Knappr. Access was cut off from the north by 
a network of crevasses, the flank of which we had just turned ; 
we, therefore, advanced until we could approach it from the 
east, where a huge bank of snow leads right up to the peak. 
This bank, however, had split and fallen away bodily from the 
portion lying upon the rocks, so that a deep wedge-shaped cleft 
interrupted the otherwise promising slope. Still it was the 
only possible chance, and we, therefore, commenced its 
ascent. The edge was so sharp that I had to cut a series of 
steps. At 2 p.m. we were abruptly stopped by the wedge- 
shaped cleft already mentioned. Untying the rope, I fixed it 
under my arms, and made the men let me down the southern 
side of the snow-slope to see if by any means it would be 
possible to cross to the foot of the cap. I found, however, 
that this was out of the question. Both slope and cap rested 
at the edge on rock of so loose and crumbling a nature as to 
be utterly untrustworthy, while the perpendicular distance to 
the snow-fields beneath was sufficient to forbid the taking of 
any risk. Coming back, I made another attempt on the 
north side and succeeded better. Here it was possible to 
jump from the bottom of the slope into the cleft. This we did. 
I then prepared to ascend the cap, which, although resting also 
on the broken rock, was frozen so hard as to be practically a 
solid ice sheet, affording good foothold. I began the ascent 
with a heavy, short-handled axe, which I had taken mainly for 
hacking at rock surfaces, expecting the men to follow with the 
ordinary one. However, they made no move, and soon I 
heard that phrase of dreadful omen to an Icelandic traveller 
—“ Ekke lingra —“ No further.” This was succeeded by a 
lecture on the “wrongness” of the proceeding, to which I 
naturally gave little heed while the hard ice gave the ample 
support it did. I climbed as far as the rope would permit, 
and then threw it off. After an hour’s hard work I reached 
the top, and the aneroid corroborated my own suspicion that 
this point was several hundred feet below the height which 
