A SECOND ASCENT. 
273 
could see the greater part of Kimawenzi rising grandly 
with its jagged peaks and smooth glissades of golden 
sand. Westward I still looked vainly in the piled-up 
clouds, for the monarch of the chain still remained 
obstinately hidden, and I was at a loss how to best 
approach his awful crown of snow. At length, and it 
was so sudden and so fleeting that I had no time to 
fully take in the majesty of the snowy dome of Kibo, 
the clouds parted and I looked on a blaze of snow so 
blinding white under the brief flicker of sunlight that 
I could see little detail. Since sunrise that morning 
I had caught no glimpse of Kibo, and now it was 
suddenly presented to me with unusual and startling 
nearness. But before I could get out my sketch-book 
and sharpen my chalk-pencil the clouds had once 
more hidden everything, indeed had enclosed me in a 
kind of London fog, very depressing in character, for 
the decrease in light was rather alarming to one who 
felt himself alone and cut off at a point nearly as high 
as the summit of Mont Blanc. However, knowing 
now the direction of my goal, I rose from the clammy 
stones, and clutching up my sketch-book with be¬ 
numbed hands, began once more to ascend westwards. 
Seeing but a few yards in front of me, choked with 
mist, I made but slow progress; nevertheless, I 
continually mounted along a gently sloping, hummocky 
ridge where the spaces in between the masses of rock 
were filled with fine yellowish sand. There were also 
fragments of stone strewn about, and some of these I 
put into my knapsack. The slabs of rock were so 
slippery with the drizzling mist that I very often 
nearly lost my footing, and I thought with a shudder 
what a sprained ankle would mean here. However, 
though reflection told me it would be better to return 
T 
