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MOUNT EVEREST

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MOUNT EVEREST

THE RECONNAISSANCE, 1921

By
Lieut.-Gol. G. K. HOWARD-BURY, D.S.O.

AND OTHER MEMBERS OF THE
MOUNT EVEREST EXPEDITION

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS

LONGMANS, GREEN AND GO.
55 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD & CO.
1922

•- 1 -< '1 1

PREFACE

The Mount Everest Committee of the Royal Geographical
Society and the Alpine Club desire to express their thanks
to Colonel Howard-Bury, Mr. Wollaston, Mr. Mallory, Major
Morshead, Major Wheeler and Dr. Heron for the trouble
they have taken to write so soon after their return an account
of their several parts in the joint work of the Expedition.
They have thereby enabled the present Expedition to start
with full knowledge of the results of the reconnaissance,
and the public to follow the progress of the attempt to reach
the summit with full information a,t hand.

The Committee also wish to take this opportunity of
thanking the Imperial Dry Plate Company for having gener-
ously presented photographic plates to the Expedition and
so contributed to the production of the excellent photographs
that have been brought back.

They also desire to thank the Peninsular and Oriental
Steam Navigation Company for their liberality in allowing
the members to travel at reduced fares ; and the Government
of India for allowing the stores and equipment of the
Expedition to enter India free of duty.

J. E. C. Eaton
A. R. HiNKS

Ho7i. Secretaries.

CONTENTS

PAGE

IwTKODUCTiON. By SiR Frakcis Younghusband, K.C.S.I., K.C.I.E.,
President of the Royal Geogi-aphical Society.

THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION
By LiEUT.-CoL. C. K. Howard-Bury, D.S.O.

CHAP.

I From Darjeelixg through Sikkim ....
II The Chumbi Valley and the Tibetan Plateau

III From Khamba Dzong through Unknown Country

TiNGRT

IV TiNGRI AND the COUNTRY TO THE SoUTH

V The Search for Kharta

VI The Move to Kharta

VII The Kama Valley ....

VIII The Upper Kharta Valley and the 20,000-foot Camp

IX The Return to Kharta by the Kama Valley .

X The Return Journey to Phaei ....

XI Back to Civilisation

23
37

112

130

146

156

170

THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN
By George H. Leigh-Mallory
XII The Northern Approach

XIII The Northern Approach (cmitinued)

XIV The Eastern Approach .
XV The Assault

XVI Weather and Condition of Snow .

XVII The Route to the Summit

vii

183
203
221
250
262
273

viii CONTENTS

NATURAL HISTORY
By A. F. R. WoLLASTON

CHAP. PAGE

XVIII An Excdhsion to Nyenyam and Lapche Kang . . 281
XIX Natural History Notes 290

XX An Appreciation of the Reconnaissance. By Professor

Norman Collie, F.R.S., President of the Alpine Club . 304

APPENDICES

I The Survey. By Major H. T. Morshead, D.S.O. . . 319

II The Photographic Survey. By Major E. 0. Wheeler, M.C. 329

III A Note on the Geological Results of the Expedition.
By A. M. Heron, D.Sc, F.G.S., Geological Survey of
India 338

IV The Scientific Equipment. By A. R. Hinks, F.R.S.,

Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society . . . 341

V Mammals, Birds and Plants collected by the Expedition.

By A. F. R. Wollaston 344

Index 351

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

The Summit ....... Frontispiece

Chomolhari from the South ......

Loading up at Dochen .......

Kampa Dzong ........

Tinki Dzong ........

Gyangka Range from near Chushar ....

Shekar Dzong ........

The Abbot of Shekar Chote

IVIihtary Governor, his Wife and Mother

The Dzongpen of Kharta and his Wife ....

Lamas of Kharta Monastery ......

Makalu from 21,500-foot peak on ridge south of Kama-chu.

Makalu and Chomolonzo ......

Chffs of Chomolonzo from camp at Pethang Ringmo

The Kama Valley .......

Sea of cloud from peak north of Kama Valley. Kangchenjunga in
distance .........

Chomolonzo from the alp below the Langma La, Kama Valley

Members of the Expedition ......

Cho-Uyo

Summit of Mount Everest and North Peak from the Island,
Rongbuk Glacier .......

Mount Everest from the Rongbuk Glacier, nine miles north-west

Summit of ]\Iount Everest and South Peak from the Island,
Rongbuk Glacier .......

Pethang-tse .........

West

PAGE

100

106

110

112

114

116

118

138
150
178

190

210
214

218
222

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FAClNO
PAGE

Summit of Makalu 226

South-east Ridge of Mount Everest from above the 20,000-foot camp,

Kliarta Valley 230

North-east of Mount Everest and Chang La from Lhakpa La. . 246

Mount Everest from the 20,000-foot camp — wind blowing snow off the

mountain .......... 278

Temple at Lapche Kang ........ 286

Gauri-Sankar . 288

Lower Kama-chu .......... 290

Junipers in the Kama Valley ....... 294

Forest in the Kama Valley ........ 300

Mount Everest at sunset from the 20,000-foot camp, Kharta Valley . 316

LIST OF MAPS

I Map to illustrate the route of the Mount Everest Expedition.

Scale 1/750,000 At end

II Map of Mount Everest. Scale 1/100,000 ...

Ill Geological Map of the Mount Everest Region . . „

INTRODUCTION

By Sir FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND, K.C.S.I., K.C.I.E.

The idea of climbing Mount Everest has been vaguely
in men's mind for thirty or forty years past. Certainly
that veteran mountain-climber and mountain-lover, Douglas
Freshfield, had it persistently rising within him as he broke
away from the Swiss Alps and subdued the giants of the
Caucasus and then sought still higher peaks to conquer.
Lord Curzon also had had it in his mind, and when Viceroy
of India had written suggesting that the Royal Geographical
Society and the Alx-)ine Club should make a joint explora-
tion of the mountain. Bruce, Longstaff and Mumm would
have made this exploration in 1905 if the permission of the
Nepalese and Tibetan Governments had been available.
So also would Rawling a few years later. All these, and
doubtless others, had contemplated at least a preliminary
reconnaissance of Mount Everest.

But, so far as I know, the first man to propose a definite
expedition to Mount Everest was the then Captain Bruce,
who, when he and I were together in Chitral in 1893,
proposed to me that we should make a glorious termination
to a journey from Chinese Turkestan across Tibet by
ascending Mount Everest. And it is Bruce who has held
to the idea ever since and sought any opportunity that
offered of getting at the mountain.

It stands to reason that men with any zest for moun-

M.E, I 8

2 MOUNT EVEREST

taineering could not possibly allow Mount Everest to remain
untouched. The time, the opportunity, the money, the
ability to make the necessary preliminary preparation
might be lacking, but the wish and the will to stand on
the summit of the world's highest mountain must have been
in the heart of many a mountaineer since the Alps have
been so firmly trampled under foot. The higher climbers
climb, the higher they want to climb. It is certain that
they will never rest content till the proudest peaks of the
Himalaya are as subdued and tamed as the once dreaded
summits of the Alps now are.

Men simply cannot resist exercising and stretching to
their fullest tether the faculties and aptitudes with which
they each happen to be specially endowed. One born with
an aptitude for painting is dull and morose and fidgety until
he can get colours and a brush into his hand and commence
painting. Another is itching to make things — to use his
hands and fashion wood or stone or metal into forms which
he is continually creating in his mind. Another is restless
until he can sing. Another is ever pining to be on a public
platform swaying the audience with his oratory and playing
on their feelings as on a musical instrument. Each has
his own inner aptitude which he aches to give vent to and
bring into play. And more than this, he secretly owns
within himself an exceedingly high standard — the highest
standard — of what he wants to attain to along his own
particular line, and he is never really content in his mind
and at peace with himself when he is not stretching himself
out to the full towards this high pinnacle which he has set
before him.

Now fortunately all men are not born with the same
aptitudes. We do not all want to sing or all want to orate
or all want to paint. Some few want to climb mountains.
These men love to pit themselves against what most
others would consider an insuperable obstacle. They enjoy
measuring themselves against it and being forced to exercise
all their energies and faculties to overcome it. The Duke

THE INTRODUCTION 3

of the Abruzzi is as good an example of this type as I
know. He was never happy until he had discovered some
inaccessible and impracticable mountain and then thrown
himself against it and come to grips with it in dead earnest
and either conquered it or been thrown back from it utterly
and completely exhausted, but with the satisfaction that
anyhow he had exercised every nerve and muscle and faculty
to the full. His native mountains he had early conquered
over and over again, so he had to look further afield to Mount
Elias in Alaska and Ruwenzori in East Africa ; and having
vanquished these he would doubtless have turned his eyes
to Mount Everest if for political reasons the way to that
mountain had not been barred, and he was compelled
therefore to look to the next highest mountain, namely, the
peak K2 in the Karakoram Himalaya in the neighbourhood
of which he attained to a greater height, 24,600 feet, than
has yet been attained by any man on foot.

The Duke no doubt is human and would like his name
to go down to posterity as having conquered some
conspicuously lofty and difficult peak. But undoubtedly
the ruling passion with him would be this love of pittmg
himself against a great mountain and feeling that he was
being forced to exert himself to the full. To such men a
tussle with a mountain is a real tonic — something bracing
and refreshing. And even if they are laid out flat by the
mountain instead of standing triumphant on its summit
they have enjoyed the struggle and would go back for
another if they ever had the chance.

Others — like Bruce — climb from sheer exuberance of
spmts. Blessed with boundless energy they revel in its
exercise. It is only on the mountain side, breathing its
pure air, buffeting against its storms, testing their nerve,
running hair-breadth risks, exercising their intelligence and
judgment, feeling their manhood and looking on Nature face
to face and with open heart and mind that they are truly
happy. For these men days on the mountain are deijs
when they reaUy live. And as the cobwebs in their braina

4 MOUNT EVEREST

get blown away, as the blood begins to course refreshingly
through their veins, as all their faculties become tuned up
and their whole being becomes more sensitive, they detect
appeals from Nature they had never heard before and see
beauties which are revealed only to those who win them.
They may not at the moment be aware of the deepest
impressions they are receiving. But to those who have
struggled with them the mountains reveal beauties they
will not disclose to those who make no effort. That is the
reward the mountains give to effort. And it is because they
have much to give and give it so lavishly to those who will
wrestle with them that men love the mountains and go back
to them again and again.

And naturally the mountains reserve their choicest gifts
for those who stand upon their summits. The climber's
vision is then no longer confined and enclosed. He can see
now all round. His width of outlook is enlarged to its full
extremity. He sees in every direction. He has a sense of
being raised above the world and being proudly conscious
that he has raised himself there by his own exertions, he has
a peculiar satisfaction and for the time forgets all frets and
worries in the serener atmosphere in which he now for a
moment dwells.

And it is only for a moment that he can dwell there. For
men cannot always live on the heights. They must come
down to the plains again and engage in the practical life of
the world. But the vision from the heights never leaves
them. They want to return there. They want to reach a
higher height. Their standard of achievement rises. And
so it has come about that mountaineers when they had
climbed the highest heights in Europe went off to the
Caucasus, to the Andes, and eventually to the Himalaya
to climb something higher still. Freshfield conquered the
Caucasus, Whymper and Conway the Andes, and the
assault upon the Himalaya is now in full swing.

It is therefore only in the natural course of things that
TUen should want to climb the highest summit of the

THE INTRODUCTION 5

Himalaya. And though those who set out to cHmb Mount
Everest will probably think little of the eventual results,
being perfectly satisfied in their own minds, without any
elaborate reasoning, that what they are attempting is
something supremely worth while, yet it is easy for lookers
on to see that much unexpected good will result from their
activities. The climbers will be actuated by sheer love of
mountaineering, and that is enough for them. I But climb-
ing Mount Everest is no futile and useless performance of
no satisfaction to anyone but the climbers. Results will
follow from it of the highest value to mankind at large.

For the climbers are unwittingly carrying out an
experiment of momentous consequence to mankind. They
are testing the capacity of the human race to stand the
highest altitudes on this earth which is its home. No
scientific man, no physiologist or physician, can now say
for certain whether or not a human body can reach a height
of 29,000 feet above the sea. We know that in an aeroplane
he can be carried up to a much greater height. But we do
not know whether he can climb on his own feet such an
altitude. That knowledge of men's capacity can only be
acquired by practical experiment in the field.

And in the process of acquiring the knowledge a valuable
result will ensue. By testing their capacities men actually
increase them. By exercising their capacities to the full
mountaineers seem to enlarge them. A century ago the
ascent of Mount Blanc seemed the limit of human capacity.
Nowadays hundreds ascend the mountain every year. And
going further afield men ascended the highest peaks in the
Caucasus and then in the Andes and have been reaching
higher and higher altitudes in the Himalaya. Conway
reached 23,000 feet, Kellas 23,186 feet, Longstaff 23,360
feet. Dr. Workman 23,000 feet, Kellas and Meade 23,600
feet and the Duke of the Abruzzi 24,600 feet. It looks there-
fore as if man by attempting more was actually making
himself capable of achieving more. By straining after the
highest he is increasing his capacity to attain it.

6 MOUNT EVEREST

In this measuring of themselves against the mountains
men are indeed very hke puppies crawUng about and testing
their capacities on their surroundings— crawhng up on to
some obstacle, tumbling back discomfited but returning
gallantly to the attack and at last triumphantly surmounting
it. Thus do they find out what they can do and how they
stand in relation to their surroundings. Also by exercising
and stretching their muscles and faculties to the full they
actually increase their capacity.

Men are still only in the puppy stage of existence. We
are prone to think ourselves very " grown up " but really
we are only in our childhood. In the latest discussions as
to the period of time which must have elapsed since hfe
first appeared upon this earth a period of the order of a
thousand milhon years was named. But of that immense
period man has been in existence for only a quarter or half
a million years. So the probability is that he has still long
years before him and must be now only in his childhood —
in his puppyhood. We certainly find that as he inqui-
sitively looks about his surroundings and measures himself
against them he is steadily increasing his mastery over them.
In the last five hundred years record after record has
been beaten. Men have ventured more and shown more
adaptability and a sterner hardihood and endurance than
ever before. They have ventured across the oceans,
circumnavigated the globe, reached the poles, risen into the
air, and it can be only a question of time — a few months
or a few years — before they reach the highest summit of
the earth.

" What then ? " some will ask. " Suppose men do
reach the top of Mount Everest, what then ? " " Suppose
we do establish the fact that man has the capacity to surmount
the highest summit of his surroundings, of what good is that
knowledge ? " This is the kind of question promoters of
the enterprise continually have to answer. One reply is
obvious. The sight of climbers struggling upwards to the
supreme pinnacle will have taught men to lift their eyes

THE INTRODUCTION 7

unto the hills — to raise them off the ground and direct them,
if only for a moment, to something pure and lofty and
satisfying to that inner craving for the worthiest which all
men have hidden in their souls. And when they see men
thrown back at first but venturing again and again to the
assault till with faltering footsteps and gasping breaths
they at last reach the summit they will thrill with pride.
They will no longer be obsessed with the thought of what
mites they are in comparison with the mountains — how
insignificant they are beside their material surroundings.
They will have a proper pride in themselves and a well-
grounded faith in the capacity of spirit to dominate material.

And direct practical results flow from this increasing
confidence which man is acquiring in face of the mountains.
A century ago Napoleon's crossing of the Alps was thought
an astounding feat. During the last thirty years troops
— and Indian troops — have been moved about the Himalaya
in all seasons and crossed passes over 15,000 feet above sea
level in the depth of winter. On the Gilgit frontier, in
Chitral, and in Tibet, neither cold nor snow nor wind stopped
them. In winter or in summer, in spring or in autumn,
they have faced the Himalayan passes. And they have
been able to negotiate them successfully because of their
increased knowledge of men's capacities and of the way
to overcome difficulties that constant wrestling with
mountains in all parts of the world during the last half-
century has given. The activities of the Alpine Club have
produced direct practical results in the movement of troops
in the Himalaya.

More still will foUow. When men have proved that
they can surmount the highest peak in the Himalaya they
will take heart to climb other peaks and become more and
more at home in that wonderful region, extending for nigh
two thousand miles from the Roof of the World in the North
and West to the borders of Burma and China in the South
and East and containing more than seventy peaks over
24,000 feet in height — that is higher than any in the Andes,

8 MOUNT EVEREST

the second highest range of mountains in the world — and
more than eleven hundred peaks over 20,000 feet in height.
This great mountain region which in Europe would stretch
from Calais to the Caspian is one vast mine of beauty of
every varied description. And a mine of beauty has this
advantage over a mine of material wealth — that we can
never exhaust it. And not only can we never exhaust it,
but the more we take out the more we find, and the more
we give away the richer we are. We may go on digging
into a gold mine, but eventually we shall find there is no
gold left. We shall have exhausted our mine. But we may
dig into that mine of beauty in the Himalaya and never
exhaust it. The more we dig the more we shall find — ^richer
beauty, subtler beauty, more varied beauty — beauty of
mountain form and beauty of pure and delicate colour,
beauty of forest, beauty of river and beauty of lake and
combined beauty of rushing torrent, precipitous cliff, richest
vegetation and overtopping snowy summit. And when we
have discovered these treasures and made them our own
we can actually increase their value to ourselves by giving
them away to others. By imparting to others the enjoy-
ment which we have felt we shall have increased our own
enjoyment.

We cannot expect those who are first engaged in climbing
Mount Everest to have the time or inclination to observe
and describe the full beauty there is. They will be set on over-
coming the physical difficulties and they will be so exhausted
for the moment by the effort they will have made that they
will not have the repose of mind which is so necessary for
seeing and depicting beauty. But when they have pioneered
the way and beaten down a path, others will more leisurely
follow after. Many even of these may not be able to express
in words or in picture the enjoyment they have felt and be
able to communicate it to others. They may not be given
to public speech or writing and may have no capacity for
painting. The flame of their enjoyment may be kept sacred
and hidden within them, and it may be only in the privacy

THE INTRODUCTION 9

of colloquy with some kindred soul that the white glow of
their enjoyment may ever be shown. But, others there
may be who have the capacity for making the world at
large share with them some little of the joy they have felt —
who can make our nerves tingle and our blood course quicker,
our eyes uplift themselves and our outlook widen as we
go out with them to face and overcome the mountains.
Such men as these from their very intimacy with the
mountains are able to point out beauties which distant
beholders would never suspect. And as Leslie Stephen
through his love of mountains has been able to attract
thousands to the Alps and given them enjoyment, clean
and fresh, which but for him they might never have known,
so we hope that in the fulness of time a greater Stephen
will teU of the unsurpassable beauty of the Himalaya and
by so doing add appreciably to the enjoyment of human
life.

Such are some of the advantages which men in general
will obtain from the attempt to climb Mount Everest.
But it is time now to say something of the mountain
itself.

Mount Everest for its size is a singularly shy and retiring
mountain. It hides itself away behind other mountains.
On the north side, in Tibet, it does indeed stand up proudly
and alone, a true monarch among mountains. But it stands
in a very sparsely inhabited part of Tibet, and very few
people ever go to Tibet. From the Indian side only its
tip appears among a mighty array of peaks which being
nearer look higher. Consequently for a long time no one
suspected Mount Everest of being the supreme mountain
not only of the Himalaya but of the world. At the time
when Hooker was making his Himalayan journeys — that
was in 1849— Kanchenjunga was believed to be the highest.

How it was eventually discovered to be the highest is
a story worth recording. In the very year that Hooker
was botanismg in the Sikkim Himalaya the officers of the

10 MOUNT EVEREST

Great Trigonometrical Survey were making observations
from the plains of India to the peaks in Nepal which could
be seen from there. When they could find a native name
for a peak they called it by that name. But in most cases
no native name was forthcoming, and in those cases a Roman
number was affixed to the peak. Among these unnamed
peaks to which observations to determine the altitude and
position were taken from stations in the plains was Peak XV.
The observations were recorded, but the resulting height
was not computed till three years later, and then one day the
Bengali Chief Computer rushed into the room of the Surveyor-
General, Sir Andrew Waugh, breathlessly exclaiming, " Sir !
I have discovered the highest mountain in the world." The
mean result of all the observations taken from the six stations
from which Peak XV had been observed came to 29,002
feet, and this Peak XV is what is now known as Mount
Everest.

The question is often asked, " Why twenty-nine thousand
and two ? " " Why be so particular about the two ? "
The answer is that that particular figure is the mean of
many observations. But it is not infallible. It is indeed
in all probability below rather than above the mark, and
a later computation of the observed results puts the height
at 29,141 feet. In any case, however, there are, as Sir
Sidney Burrard has pointed out in his discussion of this
point in Burrard and Hay den's Himalaya and Tibet, many
causes of slight error in observing and computing the altitude
of a distant and very lofty peak. The observations are
made with a theodolite. The telescope of the theodolite
may not be absolutely perfect. The theodolite may not
be levelled with perfect accuracy. The graduations on
the circle of the theodolite may not be quite accurate. The
observer himself may not have observed with sufficient
perfection. An error of ten feet may have resulted from
these causes. Then there are other and greater sources of
possible error. There may bo error in the assumed height
of the observing station ; and the altitudes of peaks are

THE INTRODUCTION 11

always varying in nature with the increase and decrease
of snow in summer and winter and in a season of heavy
snowfall or a season of light snowfall. Another source of
error arises from the varying effects of gravitational attrac-
tion. " The attraction of the great mass of the Himalaya
and Tibet," says Burrard, " pulls all liquids towards itself,
as the moon attracts the ocean and the surface of the water
assumes an irregular form at the foot of the Himalaya.
If the ocean were to overflow Northern India its surface
would be deformed by Himalayan attraction. The liquid
in levels is similarly affected and theodolites cannot conse-
quently be adjusted ; their plates when levelled are still
tilted upward towards the mountains, and angles of observa-
tion are too small by the amount the horizon is inclined to
the tangential plane. At Darjeeling the surface of water
in repose is inclined about 35" to this plane, at Kurseong
about 51", at Siliguri about 23", at Dehra Dun and Mussooree
about 37". For this reason all angles of elevation to Himalayan
peaks measured from the plains, as Mount Everest was
measured, are too small and consequently all our values
of Himalayan heights are too small. Errors of this nature
range from 40 to 100 feet."

This then is a considerable source of error, but the
most serious source of uncertainty affecting the value of
heights is the refraction of the atmosphere. A ray of light
from a peak to an observer's eye does not travel along a
straight line but assumes a curved path concave to the
earth. The ray enters the observer's eye in a direction
tangential to the curve at that point, and this is the direction
in which the observer sees the peak. It makes the peak
appear too high. Corrections have therefore to be applied.
But there is no certainty as to what should be the amount
of the correction ; and it is now believed that the computers
of the height of Mount Everest applied too great a correction
for refraction and consequently reduced its height too
much.

Burrard brings together in the following table the different

MOUNT EVEREST

errors to which the carefully determined height of Mount
Everest is liable : —

Source of error.

Magnitude of possible
error.

Variation of snow level from the mean

Errors of observation

Adoption of erroneous height for observing station

Deviation of gravity

Atmospheric refraction

Unknown
10 feet
10 feet

60 feet, too small
150 feet, too small

The following table shows how the different values of
the height of Mount Everest have been deduced : —

Height of Mount Everest

Determination

Observing station.

Year of
observation.

Distance
in miles.

Height as
determined
by Waugh.

of height

with revised

correction for

refraction.

Feet

Jirol

1849

118

28,991

29,141

Mirzapur

1849

108

29,005

29,135

Joafpati ....

1849

108

29,001

29,117

Ladnia ....

1849

108

29,998

29,144

Harpur .

1849

111

29,026

29,146

Minai

1850

113

28,990

29,160

Suberkur

1881

—

29,141

Suberkum

1883

—

29,127

Tiger Hill . . .

1880

107

—

29,140

Sandakphu .

1883

—

29,142

PhaHut ....

1902

—

29,151

Senchal ....

1902

108

—

29,134

Mean

—

29,002

29,141

The height 29,141 is still, Burrard thinks, too small, as
it has yet to be corrected for the deviations of gravity. But
though it is a more reliable result than 29,002, the latter is

THE INTRODUCTION 13

still to be retained in maps and publications of the Survey
of India.

As to the name, it was called Everest after the distin-
guished Surveyor-General of India under whose direction
the triangulation had been carried out, one result of which
was the discovery of the mountain. From the Indian
side and Nepal it is not a conspicuous peak on account of
its lying so far back. No native name for it could be
discovered and Sir Andrew Waugh, the successor of Sir
George Everest, called it after his predecessor. From the
Tibetan side it is much more conspicuous and, as General
Bruce stated in his lecture to the Royal Geographical Society
in November 1920, and as Colonel Howard-Bury found
in 1921, the Tibetans call it Chomo-lungmo, which Colonel
Howard-Bury translated, the " Goddess Mother of the
Mountains " — a most appropriate name. But the name
Mount Everest is now so firmly established throughout the
world that it would be impossible to change it. It is
therefore now definitely adopted.

Now, this mountain so coveted by mountaineers is
unfortunately situated exactly on the border between two
of the most secluded countries in the world — Nepal and
Tibet. To reach it the climbers must niss through one
or other of these countries and the difficulty of getting the
necessary permission is what has so far* prevVnted any
attempt being made to attack Mount Everest. ^ "^^ /recently
access through Tibet has become more possible, and it so
happens that it is on the Tibetan side that the summit seems
most accessible. From the distant views that could be
obtained of it from Sandakphu beyond Darjeelmg and
from Kampa Dzong in Tibet, a ridge running from the summit
in a northerly direction seemed to give good promise of
access. Major Ryder and Captain Rawling in 1904, viewing
the mountain from a distance of sixty miles almost due
north, thought the mountain might be approached from
that du'ection. At the same time the Tibetans were
jiistinctly more favourable to travellers than they had ever

14 MOUNT EVEREST

been before. The chances therefore of at least exploring
Mount Everest were much more promising, and Major
Rawling was planning an expedition of exploration when
the war broke out and he was killed.

IVIr. Douglas Freshfield would certainly have taken the
matter up during his Presidency of the Royal Geographical
Society, but he had the misfortune to hold that post during
the years of the war and no action was possible. But as
soon as the war was over interest in Mount Everest revived.
In March 1919 Captain J. B, L. Noel read a paper to the
Royal Geographical Society describing a reconnaissance
he had made in the direction of the mountain in the year
1913. He showed how attention during the last few years
had been focused more and more upon the Himalaya and
said, "Now that the Poles have been reached, it is generally
felt that the next and equally important task is the explora-
tion and mapping of Mount Everest." So he urged that
the exploration which had been the ambition of the late
General Rawling with whom he was to have joined should
be accomplished in his memory. " It cannot be long,"
he continued, " before the culminating summit of the world
is visited and its ridges, valleys and glaciers are mapped
and photographed." And at the conclusion of his lecture
he said that " some day the political difficulties will be
overcome and a fully equipped expedition must explore and
map Mount Everest."

It was not clear whether Captain Noel was advocating
a definite attempt to climb the mountain and reach the
actual summit, and Mr. Douglas Freshfield and Dr. Kellas
who followed after him referred only to the approaches to
Mount Everest. But Captain J. P. Farrar, the then
President of the Alpine Club, seems to have considered it
" a proposal to attempt the ascent of Mount Everest," and
said that the Alpine Club took the keenest interest in the
proposal and was prepared not only to lend such financial
aid as was in its power, but also to recommend two or three
young mountaineers quite capable of dealing with any

THE INTRODUCTION 15

purely mountaineering difficulties which were likely to be
met with on Mount Everest.

The hour was late, but I was so struck by the ring of
assurance and determination in the words of the President
of the Alpine Club that I could not help asking the President,
Sir Thomas Holdich, to let me say a few words. I then
told how General Bruce had made to me, twenty-six years
ago, the proposal to climb Mount Everest. I said the
Royal Geographical Society was interested in the project
and now we had heard the President of the Alpine Club
say that he had young mountaineers ready to undertake
the work. I added, " It must be done." There might be
one or two attempts before we were successful, but the first
thing to do was to get over the trouble with our own
Government. If they were approached properly by Societies
like the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club,
and a reasonable scheme were put before them and it were
proved to them that we meant business, then, I said, they
would be reasonable and do what we wanted. This was a
big business and must be done in a big way and I hoped
that something really serious would come of that meeting. ^

Sir Thomas Holdich in closing the meeting advocated
approaching Mount Everest through Nepal, and hoped
that at some time not very remote we should hear more
about the proposed expedition to Mount Everest.

Only a few days after the meeting I met Colonel Howard-
Bury at lunch with a Fellow of our Society, IVIr. C. P.
McCarthy. He was not a mountaineer in the Alpine Club sense
of the word, but he had spent much of his time shooting in the

1 In the enthusiasm of the moment I seem to have displayed a regret-
table excess of " nationalism " ! According to the record, I expressed the
hope that it would be an Englishman who first stood on the summit of
Mount Everest. I trust my foreign friends will excuse me ! I have this
at least to plead in extenuation, that if I have always striven for my ovra
countrymen when they led the way, I have never been backward in helping
explorers of other nationaHtics whom I have met in the Himalaya ; and
I have received the thanks of both the French and Itahan Governments
for the help I have given to French and Italian explorers.

16 MOUNT EVEREST

Alps and in the Himalaya, and becoming deeply interested
in the Mount Everest project, had a talk with Mr. Freshfield
about it and made a formal application to the Society for
their support in undertakmg an expedition. Things now
began to move, and the Society appUed to the India Office
for permission to send an expedition into Tibet for the
purpose of exploring Mount Everest. The Government
of India in reply said that they were not prepared at the
moment to approach the Tibetan Government ; but they
did not return any absolute refusal.

During my Presidency the Society, in conjunction with
the Alpine Club, still further pressed the matter. We asked
the Secretary of State for India to receive a deputation
from the two bodies, and the request being granted and the
deputation being assured of his sympathy we invited Colonel
Howard-Bury to proceed to India in June 1920 to explain
our wishes personally to the Government of India, and ask
them to obtain for us from the Dalai Lama the necessary
permission to enter Tibet for the purpose of exploring and
climbing Mount Everest. Lord Chelmsford, the Viceroy,
received Colonel Howard-Bury most sympathetically and
after some preliminary difficulties had been overcome, Mr.
Bell, the Political Agent in Sikkim, who happened to be in
Lhasa, was instructed to ask the Dalai Lama for permission,
and Mr. Bell being on most friendly terms with His Holiness,
permission was at once granted.

The one great obstacle in the way of approaching Mount
Everest had now at last been removed. What so many
keen mountaineers had for years di'eamed of was within
sight. And as soon as the welcome news arrived — early in
January 1921 — preparations were commenced to organise
an expedition. A joint Committee of three representatives
each from the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine
Club was formed under the Chairmanship of the President
of the former Society and was named the Mount Everest
Committee. The three members of the Society were Sir
Francis Younghusband, Mr. E. L. Somers-Cocks (Honorary

THE INTRODUCTION 17

Treasurer) and Colonel Jack. The three members of the
Alpine Club were Professor Norman Collie, Captain J. P.
Farrar and Mr. C. F. Meade. Mr. Eaton and Mr. Hinks were
Honorary Secretaries.

Our first business was to select a leader for the Expedition.
General Bruce, who had had the idea in his mind for so
many years, who knew the Himalaya as no one else did,
and who had a special aptitude for handling Himalayan
people, was now in England, and it was to him our thoughts
first turned. But he had just taken up an appointment
with the Glamorganshire Territorial Association and was not
then available. In these circumstances we were fortunate in
having ready to hand a man with such high qualifications as
Colonel Howard-Bury. He had much to do on his property
in Ireland, but he willingly accepted our invitation to lead
the Expedition, and we could then proceed to the choice of
the mountaineers.

From the very first we decided that the main object
of the Expedition was to be the ascent of the mountain and
that all other activities were to be made subordinate to the
supreme object of reaching the summit. It was to be no
mere surveying or geologising or botanising expedition
which would as a secondary object try to climb the moun-
tain if it saw a chance. To climb the mountain was to be
the first object and the mapping and everything else was
to come afterwards. The reason for this is obvious. What
men really want to know is whether man can ascend the
highest mountain.

Knowledge of the topography, fauna and flora of that
particular area is of very small consequence in comparison
with the knowledge of human capacity to surmount the
highest point in men's physical surroundings on this earth.
By some perversity of human nature there are men who
shy at putting the ascent of Blount Everest in the forefront,
because it is adventurous and must therefore, they seem
to think, cease to be a scientific object. They profess to
be unconcerned with the climbing of the mountain so long

M.E. c

18 MOUNT EVEREST

as a map is made or plants collected. But the plain man
instinctively sees the value of the adventure and knows
that the successful ascent of Mount Everest will show what
man is capable of and put new hope and heart into the human
race.

But while it was decided to make the ascent of Mount
Everest the main object of the Expedition, Professor Norman
CoUie and Mr. Douglas Freshfield from the first insisted
that a whole season must be devoted to a thorough recon-
naissance of the mountain with a view to finding not only
a feasible route to the summit but what was without any
doubt the most feasible route. We knew nothing of the
immediate approaches to the mountain. But we knew
that the only chance of reaching the summit was by finding
some way up which would entail little rock-climbing or ice
step-cutting. The mountain had therefore to be prospected
from every side to find a comparatively easy route and to
make sure that no other easier route than the one selected
existed. This was considered ample work for the Expedi-
tion for one season, while the following season would be
devoted to an all-out effort to reach the summit along the
route selected in the first year.

On this basis the first year's Expedition had accordingly
to be organised. The mountain party was to consist of
four members, two of whom were to be men of considerable
experience and two younger men who it was hoped would
form the nucleus of the climbing party the next year.
Mr. Harold Raeburn, a member of the Alpine Club who
had had great experience of snow and rock work in the
Alps, and who had in 1920 been climbing on the spurs of
Kanchenjunga, was invited to lead the mountain party.
Dr. Kellas, who had made several climbing expeditions in
the Himalaya and had in 1920 ascended to a height of 23,400
feet on Mount Kamet, was also invited to join the climbing
party. He had been making experiments in the use of
oxygen at high altitudes and was still out in India preparing
to continue these experiments on Mount Kamet in 1921,

THE INTRODUCTION 19

It was suggested to him that he should make the experi-
ments on Mount Everest instead, and the party would thereby
have the benefit of his wide Himalayan experience. This
invitation he accepted.

The two younger members selected for the climbing
party were Mr. George Leigh Mallory and Captain George
Finch, both with a very high reputation for climbing in the
Alps. Unfortunately Captain Finch was for the time
indisposed and his place at the last moment had to be
taken by Mr. BuUock of the Consular Service, who had
been at Winchester with Mr. Mallory and who happened
to be at home on leave. Through the courtesy of Lord
Curzon he was able to get special leave of absence from the
Foreign Office.

While we were finding the men we had also to be finding
the money. As a quite rough guess we estimated the
Expedition for the two years would cost about £10,000, and
at least a substantial portion of this had to be raised by
private subscription. Appeals were made by their Presidents
to the Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society and to
members of the Alpine Club, and Captain Farrar was
especially energetic in urging the claims of the enterprise.
An a result the members of the Alpine Club subscribed over
£3,000 and the Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society
nearly that amount. Later on with the advice and help
of Mr. John Buchan arrangements were made with The
Times and the Philadelphia Ledger for the purchase of the
rights of publication of telegrams from the Expedition, and
with the Graphic for the purchase of photographs. So
eventually the financial position of the Expedition was assured.

The equipment and provisioning of the Expedition was
undertaken by the Equipment Committee — Captain Farrar
and Mr. Meade — and the greatest trouble was taken to
ensure that the most suitable and best tents, sleeping
bags, clothing, boots, ice-axes, ropes, cooking apparatus,
provisions, etc., were purchased and that they were
properly packed and listed,

20 MOUNT EVEREST

In the same way the scientific equipment was under-
taken by Colonel Jack and Mr. Hinks.

Finally the services of ]Mr. WoUaston, well known for
his journeys in New Guinea and East Africa, were secured
as Medical Officer and Naturalist to the Expedition.

Throughout these preparations the advice and help of
the best men in every line were freely and willingly forth-
coming. For such an enterprise all were ready to give a
helping hand. Whether they were scientific men, or business
men or journalists, they were ready to throw aside their own
work and devote hours to ensuring that the Expedition should
be a success along the lines on which they severally had
most experience.

And most valuable was the encouragement given to the
Expedition by the interest which His Majesty showed in
conversation with the President, and His Royal Highness
the Prince of Wales in receiving Colonel Howard-Bury —
an interest which was shown in practical form by generous
subscriptions to the funds of the Expedition.

The Expedition was able, therefore, to set out from England
under the most favourable auspices, and it was to be joined
in India by two officers of the Indian Survey Department,
Major Morshead and Major Wheeler, and by an officer of
the Indian Geological Survey, Dr. Heron. It was thus
admirably equipped for the acquirement of knowledge.
But acquirement of knowledge was not the only object
which the Expedition had in view. It could not be doubted
that the region would possess beauty of exceptional grandeur.
So it was hoped that the Expedition would discover, describe
and reveal to us, by camera and by pen, beauty no less
valuable than the knowledge.

THE NARRATIVE OF THE
EXPEDITION

By
LIEUT.-COL. C. K. HOWARD-BURY, D.S.O.

CHAPTER I
FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM

Early in May most of the members of the Expedition
had assembled at Darjeeling. Mr. Raeburn had been the
first to arrive there in order to collect as many coolies of the
right type as he could. I had come out a few weeks earher
in order to visit the Indian Authorities at Simla and to
make sure that there were no political difficulties in the way.
There I found every one very kmd and helpful and all were
anxious to do their best to assist the Expedition. Owing
to the heavy deficit in the Indian Budget, the expenses of
every Department had been rigorously cut down, and the
Government of India were unable to give us financial
assistance. They agreed, however, to take upon themselves
the whole of the expenses of the survey, and to lend the
Expedition the services of an officer of the Geological
Department. The Viceroy, Lord Reading, who, together
with Lady Reading, took the greatest interest in the
Expedition, kindly gave us a subscription of 750 rupees,
and at Darjeeling the Governor of Bengal, Lord Ronaldshay,
had not only put up several members of the Expedition at
his most comfortable house, but had also given the Expedition
several rooms in which to collect their stores for separation
and division into loads. Local stores, such as tea, sugar,
flour and potatoes had to be bought on the spot. Coolies
had to be collected and arrangements made for fitting them
out with boots and warm clothing. The coolies were to
receive pay at the rate of 12 annas per day while in Sikkim,
and when in Tibet were to receive another 6 annas per day,
either in cash or the equivalent in rations. The former
proved the most acceptable eventually, except during the

24 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

period when the coolies were up on the glaciers, where there
were no villages and consequently nothing could be bought.
A passport had been sent to us by the Government at
Lhasa under the seal of the Prime Minister of Tibet, of which
the following is a translation : —

To
The Jongpens and Headmen of Pharijong, Ting-ke, Khamba and Kharta.
You are to bear in mind that a party of Sahibs are coming to see the
Chha-mo-lung-ma mountain and they will evince great friendship towards
the Tibetans. On the request of the Great IMinister Bell a passport has
been issued requiring you and all officials and subjects of the Tibetan Govern-
ment to supply transport, e.g. riding ponies, pack animals and coolies
as required by the Sahibs, the rates for which should be fixed to mutual
satisfaction. Any other assistance that the Sahibs may require either
by day or by night, on the march or during halts, should be faithfully
given, and their requirements about transport or anything else should be
promptly attended to. All the people of the country, wherever the Sahibs
may happen to come, should render all necessary assistance in the best
possible way, in order to maintain friendly relations between the British and
Tibetan Governments.

Despatched during the Iron-Bird Year.
Seal of the Prime Mnister.

Our start had been originally arranged for the middle of
May, but the " Hatarana," in which were most of our
stores, was unable to obtain a berth, as accommodation in
the Docks at Calcutta was very insufficient for the large
number of steamers that call there ; she had therefore to
lie out in the Hoogly for a fortnight before she could get
room in the Docks. However, by May 11 everything was
unloaded at Calcutta. The Darjeeling-Himalayan Railway
had generously given the Expedition a free pass over their line
for all stores and goods, and as the Customs had granted a
free entry into the country, everything was up in Darjeeling
by May 14. The time of waiting at Darjeeling had, however,
not been wasted. Four cooks had been engaged for the
Expedition and some forty coolies. These were Sherpa
Bhotias, whose homes were in the North-east corner of
Nepal, some of them coming from villages only a few miles
to the South of Mount Everest. They were an especially

FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 25

hardy type of coolie, accustomed to living in a cold climate
and at great heights. They were Buddhists by religion and
therefore had no caste prejudices about food, and could
eat anything. They proved at times quarrelsome and rather
fond of strong drink ; they turned out, however, to be a useful
and capable type of man, easily trained in snow and ice work
and not afraid of the snow. We later on picked up a few
Tibetan coolies in the Chumbi Valley and these proved to
be as good as the best of the Sherpas. They were very
hardy and got on well with the Tibetans, who were always
rather suspicious of our Nepalese coolies. They were also
less troublesome to manage and could carry heavy loads at
great heights. These coolies had all to be fitted with boots
and very difficult this sometimes proved to be, as often their
feet were almost as broad as they were long. Blankets,
cap comforters, fur gloves and warm clothing were issued
to all of them, and for those who had to sleep at the
highest camps, eiderdown sleeping-bags were also taken.
Arrangements had also to be made for interpreters to
accompany the Expedition, as with the exception of Major
Morshead, who knew a little Tibetan, no one was able to
speak the language. It was a matter of great importance
to get hold of the right type of man as interpreter. It was
essential to find men of some position and standing who
knew not only the Tibetan language, but also aU their ways
and customs. After many names had been suggested, we
were very lucky in getting hold of two men who possessed
these qualifications to a great extent. Gyalzen Kazi, who
came from Gangtok in Sikkim, where he was a Kazi and
landowner, was a young and ambitious man who knew the
Tibetan language well and was well read in their sacred
writings and scriptures. The other one, Chheten Wangdi,
was a Tibetan who had been for a time a captain in the
Tibetan army, and who had left them and been attached
to the Indian army in Egypt during the war. He was a
most energetic, hard-working man, loiew all the Tibetan
manners and customs, and was up to all thek tricks of

26 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

procrastination and attempts at overcharging. By his
knowledge and persuasive powers the Expedition was saved
many thousand rupees.

The Expedition when it left Darjeeling included nine
Europeans. The Alpine climbers were Mr. Harold Raeburn,
Dr. A. M. Kellas, Mr. G. L. Mallory and Mr. C. H. Bullock.
Dr. KeUas had unfortunately in the early spring of this
year tried his constitution very severely by climbing Narsing/
and he had also spent several nights at very low temperatures
in camps over 20,000 feet, on the slopes of Kabru,^ so
that when he arrived at Darjeeling a few days before the
Expedition was due to start, he was not in as j&t a condition
as he should have been. The two Surveyors were Major
H. T. Morshead, D.S.O., and Major 0. E. Wheeler, M.C.
These officers had been lent by the Survey of India. Major
Morshead had already a considerable experience of travelling
in the Eastern borders of Tibet and in the Kham country,
where he had carried out some useful survey work, and
under him were three native surveyors, one of whom was
left in Sikkim to revise the existing maps, which were very
inaccurate, while the other two, Gujar Singh and Lalbir
Singh, accompanied the Expedition and filled in all the
details of the country traversed on their plane tables at a
scale of 4 miles to the inch. Major 0. E. Wheeler, the other
Surveyor, was a member of the Canadian Alpine Club and
a very keen climber himself. He was an expert in the
Canadian system of Photo Survey — a method especially
useful and applicable to a difficult and mountainous country.
The Indian Government had also lent the Expedition the
services of Dr. A. M. Heron, of the Geological Survey of
India, in order to study the geology of the country through
which it was about to go, and about which nothing was
known, and to investigate the problems which surround the
age and the structure of the Himalayan range. Besides
these, there was Mr. A. F. Wollaston, a member of the Alpine
Club and a very distinguished traveller as well, who had
' Narsing and Kabru are two high mountains in the North of Sikkim.

FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 27

made some most interesting journeys around Ruwenzori
in Africa and in the interior of New Guinea. He accompanied
the Expedition in the capacity of Doctor, NaturaHst and
Botanist, and was equipped with a complete collector's
outfit.

During our time of enforced waiting at Darjeeling, we
came in for the Lebong races — a unique and very amusing
entertainment. The course is a small circular one, where
the top of the Lebong spur has been levelled, and only genuine
Tibetan and Bhotia ponies are allowed to race there. There
were always large entries for these races, as they were very
popular among the hill-folk, who flocked into Darjeeling
from great distances, dressed in their finest clothes and with
their women covered with jewellery and wearing clothing
of brilliant shades of green and red. There was very heavy
betting on each race, and the amount of money that the
coolies, sirdars or servants were able to put up was
astonishing. In most of the races there was at least a field
of ten, which made the start a very amusing affair. The
jockeys were all hill-boys, and as they and the ponies were
up to every dodge and trick, and were equally anxious to
get off first, and as most of the ponies had mouths of ii'on,
it was always a long time before a start could be made, and
in nearly every race one or more of the ponies would run
out of the course at the point nearest its own home.

On May 13 Major Morshead with his assistant surveyors
and fifty coolies left Darjeeling for Khamba Dzong. They
went the direct road up the Teesta Valley correcting the
Sikkim map as they went along. Their object in going
this way was to connect the Indian Survey with the new
survey that it was proposed to carry out in Tibet. This
would occupy all Major Morshead's time until we should be
able to join him at Khamba Dzong in June.

The chief transport of the Expedition consisted of 100
mules belonging to the Supply and Transport Corps and
lent to us by the Commander-in-Chief. These arrived at
DarjeeHng a few days before we were due to start and were

28 THE NARRATIVE OE THE EXPEDITION

camped in the open on the old parade ground at the top of
Katapahar. Sub-Conductor Taylor, who had already had
experience of mule transport in Tibet in 1904-5, and was
to have come in charge of them, was unfortunately laid up
at the last moment with a bad attack of influenza. The
next man chosen was passed medically unfit, and the third
man in temporary charge of the mules was, when he arrived
at Darjeeling, aheady suffering from ague. It was not till
May 15 that Sergeant Fowkes arrived, who was to take
charge of the mules. He was a very capable and energetic
N.C.O., and their subsequent failure was in no way due to
him, but solely to the fact that the mules were in no kind of
condition to do hard work in the hills, being sleek and fat
from the plains where they had had very little work to do.
The muleteers, or drabies, were all hill-men and had been
picked out specially for us and fitted out with every kind
of warm clothing. Though there were a hundred mules,
this did not mean that there were a hundred mules to carry
our loads — so much extra warm clothing and blankets had
been given to the drabies that together with all their line
gear it needed twenty-seven mules to carry their kit, which
left only seventy-tlu-ee mules for the Expedition loads,
each mule carrying 160 lb., and this was not nearly sufficient
for our requirements. A certain amount of our stores had
therefore to be left behind at Government House, Darjeeling,
for a second journey, and we only took with us sufficient
food and supplies for three and a half months, relying on
the mules going back and returning with the remainder of
the stores in July or August. Owing to the camping grounds
being small, and bungalow accommodation limited on the
journey across Sikkim, we divided ourselves into two parties
with fifty mules and twenty coolies in each party ; Wollaston,
Wheeler, Mallory and myself being with the first party and
Raeburn, Kellas, Bullock and Heron with the second.

The first party left Darjeeling on May 18, and the second
party the following day. I remained behind to see the
second party off, and then by doing a double march I caught

FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 29

the first party up that evening at Kalimpong, not, however,
without noticing on the way that several of our mules were
already knocked up. The night before we started rain
came down in torrents, and it was still pouring when the
mules came round in the morning, and though the rain stopped
soon afterwards yet the hillsides were all wreathed in soft
grey mists and every moss-hung branch and tree dripped
steadily with moisture all day long. The first day's march
from Darjeeling was to Peshoke — a seventeen-mile march
and down hill all the way after Ghoom. From Darjeeling
we gradually ascended some 500 feet to Ghoom and then
for 6 miles followed the well-engineered cart road which
leads below Senchal to the new miUtary cantonment of
Takda which is, I believe, about to be abandoned, as the
Gurkhas, for whom it was built, are not at all happy there.
During the war it was used as a German internment camp.
Along this ridge there are magnificent forests of evergreen
oaks, all of which were covered with ferns and orchids and
long trailing mosses. This first ridge rising straight out of
the plains condenses all the moisture-laden winds that blow
up from the Bay of Bengal and causes it almost always to
be enveloped in clouds and mists. The path now rapidly
descended 4,000 feet, through tea plantations. The whole
hillside was covered with tea bushes, neatly planted in lines,
and showing a very vivid green at this time of the year.
Here and there grew tall tree ferns, 20 feet to 30 feet in height,
their stems covered with ferns and Coelogene orchids. The
air was now growing hotter and hotter as we descended,
but the wonderful and varied vegetation, the beautiful and
brilliantl}^ coloured butterflies — for Avhich the Teesta Valley
is famous — that flitted across the path in front of us, proved
an irresistible attraction, and made us forget the fact that
we were diipping with perspiration from every pore. We
had already descended nearly 5,000 feet by the time that
we reached the P.W.D. bungalow at Peshoke, which was
situated in a clearing in the forest. We were, however,
stiU 2,000 feet above the muddy Teesta River which ran

30 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

down below us in its steamy gorge, and the next morning
saw us descending 2,000 feet through a Sal forest by a slippery
path of clay leading to the suspension bridge which crosses
the mighty river that with its affluents drains the whole of
Sikkim. It rushes along with uTesistible force in mighty
waves and rapids, and though attempts have been made
to float timber down it for commercial purposes, yet the
current is too swift and the logs were aU smashed to pieces.
Here at the bridge we were only 700 feet above the sea and
the heat was intense. Several mules had been left exhausted
at Peshoke and had been unable to proceed the following
day and several more only just reached Kalimpong, the
second day's march, only 12 miles from Peshoke, but the
climb of 3,300 feet up from the bridge over the Teesta in
the steamy and enervating heat proved too much for
them. The forests here were very beautiful — huge sal
trees and giant terminalia abounded with weird and
wonderful creepers embracing their stems, or hanging down
from their branches. The handsome pothos — the finest of the
creepers — grew everywhere. The curious pandanus or screw
pine displayed its long and picturesque fronds, while here
and there among the dark green of the tropical forest showed
up as a briUiant patch of colour the scarlet blooms of the
clerodendrons. Above the forests the hillsides had been
terraced with immense labour into rice fields, which at this
time of year were not yet planted out, but the fields of maize
were already ripening. At Kalimpong there was a large
and comfortable Dak bungalow, surrounded by a well-kept
garden full of roses and scarlet hibiscus with a beautiful
and large-flowered mauve solanum growing up the pillars
on the verandah. At Kalimpong we were entertained by
Dr. Graham and his charming daughters, who showed us
true hospitality and kindness. They live in a very pretty
house embowered in roses on the crest of the hill and
commanding lovely views over the Teesta Valley and up
to the snowy peaks of Kanchenjunga. Higlicr up on the
spur are the homes and the industrial schools that many

FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 31

years of hard work have brought into being, thanks to the
indefatigable labours of Dr. Graham and the late Mrs.
Graham ; these now hold between 600 and 700 pupils, both
boys and girls, who, when they leave these schools, have
all been taught some useful trade and are sent out as use-
ful members of society. They are given as practical an
education as could be wished for anywhere. At the
Grahams' house I met David Macdonald, the British Trade
Agent at Yatung, who was acting temporarily as political
agent in Sikkim until Major Bailey arrived from England.
He was an old friend of mine, as I had met him before in
Tibet. He promised us every assistance in his power and
had telegraphed to Yatung and to the Jongpen at Phari
to have supplies and anything we wanted in readiness at
those places. He told me that an old Tibetan Lama, who
knew Mount Everest well, had described it as " Miti guti
cha-phu long-nga," " the mountain visible from all directions,
and where a bird becomes bhnd if it flies so high." Through-
out our journey across Sikkim the weather was very bad,
with heavy falls of rain every day and night. We had had
the bad luck to strike the Chota Bursat, or Httle monsoon,
which usually heralds the coming of the proper monsoon a
fortnight or tliree weeks later.

The march to Pedong was an easy one of 14 miles with
a gentle climb of 3,000 feet followed by a descent of 2,000
feet past gardens beautiful with their great trees of scarlet
hibiscus, daturas and bougainvilleas, which grew with
wonderful luxuriance in this climate where frost is almost
unknown in winter and where in summer the temperature
scarcely ever exceeds 85° Fahrenheit. We passed some of
the most wonderful datura hedges that I have ever seen
with trees 15 feet to 20 feet in height and laden with hundreds
of enormous white trumpet-shaped blooms 8 inches in
diameter and fully a foot long. I could only stand and
admire. At night these great white flowers glowed as though
with phosphorescence in the dark and had a strangely sweet
smell. I got thoroughly soaked on the march, for a couple

32 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

of minutes of these deluges are sufficient to go through any
waterproof.

Our mules were now beginning to give us great trouble.
Several had to be left behind after each march and fresh
animals had to be hired locally to replace those left behind.
At Pedong there were more wonderful daturas, and all
along the next march we kept passing grand bushes of these
flowers. It rained all that night and most of the following
day, so that we had a very wet and trying march to Rongli
— the distance was only 12 miles, but this included a very
steep descent of over 3,000 feet to the bottom of a steamy
valley, followed by a climb of 3,000 feet across an intervening
ridge and then down another 2,000 feet to the Rongli
bungalow. The poor mules were very tired by the end of
the march and one had died of colic on the way. Most
of the others too were getting very sore backs from the
constant rain. On the way WoUaston and I stopped at
Rhenock to have a look at the Chandra Nursery kept by
Tulsi Dass, where there were many interesting plants, chiefly
collected in the Sikkim forests. There was a tree growing
everywhere in the forests with a white flower which Sikkim
people called Chilauni, and all along the paths the Sikkim
durbar had been busy planting mulberry, walnut and toon
trees. There was a curious pink ground plant that grew in
the forests which I was told belonged to the Amomum species.
There were also beautiful orchids in the trees, mauve, white
and yellow, belonging to the Dendrobium, Coelogene and
Cymbidium families — some with fine sprays of flowers 18
inches long. Here at Rongli the mules were so tired that
we had to give them a day's rest before they could go on
any further. It was a hot and feverish spot to stop in,
and only necessity compelled us to do so, as we were unable
to get any extra transport the following morning to
supplement the mules that were sick.

All that day we had passed numbers of mules coming
down from Tibet laden with bales of wool, and others were
returning to Tibet with sheets of copper, manufactured goods,

FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 33

grain and rice which had been bought in exchange. The
dark faces of the muleteers with their turquoise earrings
formed a pretty picture and they were full of friendly smiles
and greetings for us. The mules travelled on their own —
if any mule stopped on the path, a stone always aimed with
the greatest accuracy reminded him that it was time to
go on. Owing to our having to halt a day at Rongli, we had
to stop the second party, and were able to do this at Ari,
a bungalow 3 miles short of Rongli. I rode up to see
how they were getting on, and found they were having the
same trouble with their mules that we had been having.
On May 23 we left for Sedongchen, or Padamchen as the
Tibetans called it. Sedongchen is the old local name,
so-called because there once grew there a very large
" Sedong " tree. This is a tree that has a white sap which
irritates the skin intensely and sets up a rash. Sedongchen
was only 9 miles from Rongli, but there was a very steep
climb, from 2,700 feet up to 7,000 feet, and our mules only
just managed to arrive there. The first part of the way
is alongside the rushing stream of the Rongli, through
lovely woods and dense tropical vegetation. Caladiums,
kolocasias and begonias were growing on every rock, and
the giant pothos with its large shining leaves grew up the
stems of many of the trees. Climbers of all kinds, such as
vines and peppers, hung down from the branches. Here, too,
were magnificent forest trees, fully 150 feet high, with clean
straight trunks and without a branch for a hundred feet ;
others nearly equally tall, which the Sikkim people call
" Panisage," had huge buttresses and trunks nearly 40 feet
in circumference. Every branch here was covered by thick
matted growth of orchids. For the first time since leaving
Darjeeling the sun shone, and after we left the forests we
found the uphill climb very hot. On to-day's march,
out of the fifty mules with which we started there were only
fourteen carrying our own kit, and of those fourteen we
found on arrival at Sedongchen that none would be fit to
proceed on the following day. It was therefore with great

M.E. D

34 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

reluctance that I felt compelled to send back the Govern-
ment mules, as they could not only not carry their own line
gear, but had become an extra and very large source of
expense and worry to us. That the mules should have
completely broken down Hke this after a five days' march
showed that they must have been in no kind of training
and condition and were completely unfitted for heavy work
in the mountains. The hill ponies and mules that we had
hired to supplement them, although they had been given
the heaviest loads, always arrived first, and made nothing
of each march. By this failure of the Government transport
we were now thrown back on our own resources, and obliged
to depend everywhere on what local transport we could
obtain, and this often took some time to collect.

At Sedongchen there was a pleasant bungalow, rather
Swiss in appearance, with fine views down the Rongli Valley
and across all the forest ridges over which we had come,
right back to Darjeeling. Opposite us, to the South-east,
were densely wooded hills with clouds and mists drifting along
the tops, while here and there a waterfall showed up white
amidst the dark green vegetation.

Rain came down steadily all night, but the morning
proved somewhat finer. Being on the main trade route,
we were luckily able to get other transport to replace the
Government mules and to arrange for hired mules as far
as Yatung. The local animal is a wonderful beast, extremely
sure footed, and not minding in the least a climb of 6,000
feet. The path from Sedongchen is really only a stone
causeway, very slippery and unpleasant either to walk or
ride upon, but probably anything else would be worn away
by the torrential rains that fall here. At one place we
had to make a wide detour, as the rain of the night before
had washed away some hundred yards of the pathway,
but luckily this was not in a very steep part, as otherwise
we might have been delayed for several days. The constant
rain had already brought out the leeches, and on most
of the stones or blades of grass beside the path they sat

FROM DARJEELING THROUGH SIKKIM 35

waiting for their meal of blood and clung on to any mule
or human being that passed by. The mules suffered severely,
and drops of blood on the stones became frequent from
the bleeding wounds.

The climb from Sedongchen to Gnatong was very steep
with a rise of over 5,000 feet in the first 5 miles, and we
soon got out of the zone of the leeches and on to the most
wonderful zone of flowering rhododendi^ons. The rhodo-
dendrons in the lower forest chiefly consisted of R. Argenteum
and E, Falconeri. These grew in a great forest of oaks and
magnolias, all covered with beautiful ferns among which
showed up delightful mauve or white orchids. The lower
rhododendrons had already flowered, but as we got higher
we found masses of R. Cinnabarinum, with flowers showing
every shade of orange and red. Then came rhododendi'ons
of every colour— pink, deep crimson, yellow, mauve, white
or cream coloured. It was impossible to imagine anything
more beautiful, and every yard of the path was a pure
delight. Among the smaller flowers were the large pink
saxifrage, while the deep reddish-purple primula covered
every open space. There was also a very tiny pink primula
— the smallest I have ever seen — and another one like a
pink primrose, that grew on the banks above the path.
We went along quite slowly all the way, botanising and
admiring the scenery. The path mostly led along the top
of a ridge, and the views and colours of the many-hued
rhododendrons in the gullies on either side were very delight-
ful. Gnatong, where we were to spend the night, was a very
small and rather dirty village lying in a hollow and sur-
rounded by grassy hills. The fir trees {Abies Webbiana)
no longer surrounded it, as those anywhere near had been
cut down for firewood, or for building houses. From here
I was able to telephone to Mr. Isaacs, Mr. Macdonald's
head clerk at Yatung, to ask him to make arrangements
for ponies and mules for us both at Yatung and at Phari
now that our transport had broken down. Wonderful
rumours seemed to have preceded our advent. Stories

36 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

that we were coming with 1,000 mules and 500 men seemed
to have been spread about in Tibet.

Gnatong is a most depressing place, and only owes its
existence to the fact that it is the first stopping place for
the caravans that cross over the Jelep Pass on the British
side of the frontier. Rain always falls there, the rainfall
in the year being nearly 200 inches, and when rain does
not faU the place is enveloped in mist, with the result that
the mud was horrible. It poured with rain aU the time
that we were there and we left again in heavy rain for the
Jelep Pass 8 miles distant. We were already over 12,000
feet when we started, and the top of the pass was 14,390
feet, so that it was not a very serious chmb. There was
no view of any kind to be had as the rain fell steadily all
the way and the hillsides were all veiled in mist. We had
occasional glimpses of a hillside pink, white or yellow with
rhododendrons, which now grew only about 5 feet high.
I counted six or seven different varieties of primulas on the
way, but near the top there was still plenty of the old winter
snow lying about and the Alpine flowers were scarcely out.
A big heap of stones marked the summit of the pass and
the frontier between Sikkim and Tibet, and a few sticks,
to which were attached strings covered with small pieces
of rag on which were inscribed prayers, fluttered out in
the strong wind that always blows up there. In the cold
rain this was not a cheerful spot to linger in, so we hurried
on down a steep and stony path and after descending a few
hundred feet emerged out of the mist and rain and obtained
gUmpses of a really blue sky such as we had not seen for
weeks. We had arrived at last in Tibet.

CHAPTER II

THE CHUMBI VALLEY AND THE TIBETAN

PLATEAU

The range of mountains which here forms the boundary
between Sikkim and Tibet runs nearly North and South,
and the two main passes across it are the Jelep La and
the Nathu La, the latter being a few miles to the North
of the Jelep La and about the same height. The Jelep La
being the main trade route across which the telegraph line
runs, and over which the postal runners travel, is kept open
all the year round, though often after a heavy blizzard it
is closed for ten days or a fortnight. On the Sikkim side
the snow-fall is always the heaviest ; this range of mountains
stops most of the moist currents that drive up from the
Bay of Bengal, with the result that the rainfall in the Chumbi
Valley on the Tibetan side is only about a quarter of what
it is at Gnatong on the Sikkim side.

The descent into the Chumbi Valley was very steep
and stony, as there was a drop of over 5,000 feet from the
top of the pass. The beauty of the valley and its wild flowers
made up, however, for the badness of the path. The rhodo-
dendrons on the descent were extremely fine, and the whole
character of the vegetation was altered and became more
European. The great pink rhododendron Aucklandi showed
up splendidly in the dark forests of silver fir {A. Webhiana)
which here grows into a fine tree. There was also the yellow
rhododendron Campylocarpum and a white rhododendron,
probably Decorum ; the beautiful R. Cinnaharinum with
its orange bells of waxy flowers relieved the darkness of the
firs. There was a small Tibetan rest-house called Langra
where our coolies wanted to stop, but we pushed on past

54144

38 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

this and descended steeply through more wonderful forests.
As we got lower we found birch, sycamore, willow and elder
stiU clothed in the light green of early spring. A fine white
clematis, a pink and white spiraea, a yellow berberis, white
roses and the dark purple iris grew in profusion on either
side of the path. Underneath these were the smaU flowers
of the wild strawberry, which the Macdonald family
collected later on in the year and made into jam in great
quantities.

Near the entrance to this side valley we came to Old
Yatung with its Chinese custom-house and wall built right
across the vaUey to keep the British from going any further.
All this was now deserted and in ruins. Soon afterwards
we arrived in the main Chumbi VaUey where were broad
fields filled with potatoes and ripening barley. The houses
here were mostly built of stone and wood and in two stories.
In character they much resembled Tkolese houses except
for the elaborate carving over the doors and windows and
the many colours in which they were painted. We passed
through the prosperous villages of Richengong, Phema and
Chumbi before arriving at New Yatung, or Shassi as the
Tibetans still prefer to call it. Here was a comfortable
bungalow overlooking the bazaar on the other side of the
river. Knowing that we had had a long and tmng march
and that our coolies would only arrive late that night, Mrs.
Macdonald had with much thoughtfulness sent over her
servants who had tea and dinner prepared for us on a generous
scale. No attention could have been more acceptable. It
ramed steadily all that night — a somewhat unusual occurrence
in this valley — but the next morning it cleared up and the
day was delightful.

The Chumbi Valley is one of the richest valleys in Tibet.
Yatung lies at a hciglit of 9,400 feet. Apples and pears
do well here, and barley, wheat and potatoes are grown
in great quantities. At this time of the year the air is scented
by the wild roses which grow in large bushes covered with
hundreds of cream-coloured and sweetly scented flowers.

THE CHUMBI VALLEY 39

The villages all look extremely prosperous and an air of
peace and contentment seems to pervade the valley. We
had to hire a new lot of animals to take us on to Phari —
28 miles further up the Chumbi Valley. These all arrived
in good time, and by eight o'clock on May 27 our loads
were all on their way. Before leaving, I sent off a telegram
to Sir Francis Younghusband to announce the arrival of
the Expedition in Tibet, a telegram which arrived opportunely
at the Anniversary Dinner of the Royal Geographical Society,
just at the commencement of dinner.

There is a small garrison at Yatung, consisting of twenty-
five men of the 73rd Carnatics. There was also a hospital
and a supply depot from which we were able to purchase
sugar, flour, ata (coarse native flour) and potatoes, while
later on we were able to send back to it for further supplies.
We formed quite an imposing procession as we started off :
WoUaston and myself on our ponies, Gyalzen Kazi and
Chheten Wangdi, our interpreters, on their ponies which
they had brought along with them. There was Mr. Isaacs,
the head clerk, with a red-coated chaprassi and a syce also
mounted, who accompanied us on a visit to two monasteries
further up the valley. The path followed close to the banks
of the Ammo-chu, which was now a clear stream and contained
many a likely pool for fish. The valley was full of delightful
flowers ; curious ground orchids, with several beautiful varieties
of the ladies' slipper grew there ; the wild roses, especially
the large red one, were very sweet-scented and filled the air
with fragrance. Berberis, clematis and some charming dwarf
rhododendrons abounded. After going about 3 miles the
valley narrowed, and we passed the spot where the Chmese
had built another wall across the valley to keep us out.
Just above this wall there was a deserted Chinese village,
for now all the Chinese have been di^iven out of the country
and are not allowed to go back and live there. High above
us on the hillside was the Punagang Monastery belonging
to the old sect of the Bhompo's, who turn then* prayer
wheels the opposite to every one else and always keep to

40 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

the right of Chortens and Mani walls. This monastery was
too far ofE the path for us to visit it. We soon afterwards
passed the large and flourishing village of Galinka surrounded
by fields of barley. Here we turned aside to visit the Galinka
Monastery, which stood in the midst of the viUage. This
was quite a new building, with a great gilt image of Buddha
inside it. The monks were still busy painting pictures of
scenes from the life of Buddha on the walls. They apparently
did quite a good trade in selling clay images of Buddha
in his different forms and postures. These were stamped
by a very well cut brass die, which the monks told me had
been made at Shigatse. In a side room was a huge prayer wheel
some 12 feet high and 5 feet to 6 feet in diameter. It was
covered over with painted leather inscribed with the usual
Om Mani Padme Hum (Hail, jewel of the lotus flower).
They told us the inside was also filled with prayers, and that
it contained one and a half million of these, so that each
time the wheel was turned a million and a half prayers
were said for the person who turned it. After each complete
revolution it rings a bell. We were allowed to turn it several
times, so that I hope the many million prayers sent up may
benefit us. After leaving the monastery, the path rose
steeply and the river came down in a series of waterfalls.
Above us were masses of pink and mauve rhododendrons,
flowering cherries, viburnum, berberis, roses and other
delightful shrubs. Soon afterwards, at the entrance to
the Lingmatang plain, we crossed the river and rode up
a rocky spur formed of great boulders that had some time
or another fallen down and blocked up the valley, forming
a lake some 2 miles long, but this lake no longer existed,
and there was only a flat grassy plain grazed over by yaks
and ponies. On the top of the spur was the Donka Monastery
in a grand situation, commanding beautiful views up and
down the valley. I had hoped to see my friend the Geshe
Lama or Geshe Rimpoche, as he is sometimes known, with
whom I had lunched last year at the hot springs at Kambu,
but unfortunately he was away at Lhasa. He is a man of

THE CHUMBI VALLEY 41

very great learning and held in high veneration throughout
these valleys.

On entering the big stone courtyard of the monastery
a crowd of children and Lamas at once flocked round us.
We were shown over the main temple, but it was badly
lit with a few butter lamps and we could see little of its
contents ; amongst these were several statues of Buddha
under his different forms. There were also kept there 108
volumes of the Tangyur, one of the Buddhist sacred writings.
These books were very curious. Each volume consisted
of a number of loose oblong parchment sheets 2 to 3 feet
long and from 8 inches to a foot wide. These were kept
together by two elaborately carved boards between which
they were pressed. The writing was all done by hand by the
Lamas, who copied out and illuminated books with the
greatest care and skill in the same manner that the monks
in the Middle Ages illuminated their missals. The book-
shelves of the library consisted of a number of pigeon-holes
in the walls in which these volumes were kept. Here, too,
they were busy making clay images to bury under the Chorten
that they were building above the monastery. Next door
was another and newer temple, built to house the Oracle,
and called the Sanctuary of the Oracle. He, too, was
unfortunately away, as he was taking the hot waters at
Kambu, but we were shown his throne and the robes that
he puts on when he prophesies. There was a curiously
shaped head-dress of silver, adorned all round with silver
skulls, and a very quaintly shaped bow and arrow which
the Oracle held in one hand while a huge trident was grasped
in the other. I am told that he is consulted far and wide and
has a great reputation for truth. We were then taken upstairs
to a sunny verandah, just outside the Geshe Rimpoche's
private room and commanding fine views up and down the
valley. Here we were given Tibetan tea, made with salt
and butter, and served up in agate cups with beautifully
chased silver covers. After drinking this tea we were shown
over the Geshe's private apartments and chapel, the prevailing

42 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

colour scheme of the room being yeUow. The Httle shrines
with their silver bowls in front— the incense burner and the
flame that is never allowed to go out — were all very interesting
to us. We then took a photograph of the Lamas in front
of their temple, after which the head Lama accompanied
us some way down the path to say good-bye, hoping we
would come and see them again on our return.

I have alluded several times to the hot springs at Kambu.
These springs are two days' journey from Yatung up the
Kambu Valley, but can also be reached quite easily from
Phari. There is a curious account of these springs written
by an old Lama and translated by Major Campbell. The
writer describes the Upper Kambu Valley as quite a pleasant
spot where cooling streams and medicinal plants are found
in abundance. Medicinal waters of five kinds flow from
the rocks, forming twelve pools, the waters of which are
efficacious in curing the 440 diseases to which the human
race is subject. The springs are then made to describe their
own quaUties in the first person : —

1. The Lhamo Spring (The Spring of the Goddess) : My virtue is
derived from the essence of stone — I am guarded by the Goddess Tsering,
and my vu-tue therefore consists in purging the sins and obscurities of
the human body. Those who bathe first in my waters will be purged of
all sin and the j)ower of all diseases will be abated.

2. The Chagu Spring (The Spring of the Vulture) : My virtue is derived
from black sulphur. As regards my properties, a vulture with a broken
wing once fell into my waters and was healed. I benefit diseases of women,
also sores, gout and fractures. I possess particular virtue for all diseases
below the waist. I do not benefit neuralgia, nervous diseases, or loss of
appetite.

3 and 4. The Pon Springs (The Springs of the Official) : We two brothers
derive our properties from both yellow and black sulphur. One of us
provokes catarrh, while the other allays it. A learned man, who wished
us well, once said that we were beneficial in cases of hemorrhoids, kidney
diseases and rheumatism. We are not aware of jjossessing these qualities,
and rather tend to cause harm in such cases.

6. The Traggye Spring (The Spring born of the Rock) : My virtue
is derived from a combination of sulphur and the essence of stone. I was
formerly efficacious in cases of diseases of tlie aiteries and nerve trouble,
but later on the Brothers of the Pon Spring rushed down on poor me like
tjrrants so that no one now regards me. The caretaker of the Springs

THE CHUMBI VALLEY 43

and visitors treats me like a beggar and pays no attention to me. Even
now if some person with the permission of the Brothers of the Pon Spring
would carry out some repairs, so as to separate my waters from theirs, I
would guarantee to benefit those sufifering from arterial diseases, nerve
trouble, impurities of the blood and bile.

6. The Serka Spring (The Spring of the Crevice) : My virtues are
derived from sulj)hur and carbon. I am not beneficial to those suffering
from ailments arising from nerve trouble, bile and acidity. I am beneficial
to those suffering from chapped hands and feet due to hard work among
earth and stones and also in cases of diseases of the kidneys and bladder,
I am somewhat hurtful to those suffering from headache arising from
nervous catarrh, or impurities of the blood.

7. The Tang Spring (The Spring of the Plain) : My virtues are derived
from carbon and a little sulj^hur. I am beneficial in cases of hemorrhoids,
kidney disease, rheumatism and other diseases below the waist, also in
cases of venereal disease. There is a danger of the waist becoming bent
like a bow through too much bathing in my waters.

8. The Traggyab Spring (The Spring behind the Rock) : I am beneficial
in cases of disease of the arteries and anaemia — I am not aware that I am
harmful in other cases.

9. The Tongbu Spring (The Spring of the Hole) : My virtues are
derived from a large proj^ortion of crystalline stone and a little sulphur.
I guarantee to be beneficial in cases of white phlegm, bro\^Ti phlegm and
other forms of phlegmatic disease. Also in diseases arising out of these,
and in cases of impurities of the blood and colic pains. Please bear this
in mind.

10. The Nub (The Western Spring) : My virtues are derived from a
little carbon. I am beneficial in cases of liver disease, impurities of the
blood, flatulence, kidney disease, dyspepsia, brown phlegm, tumours, gout,
rheumatism, gleet, and complications arising from these. I do not boast
in the way that the other Springs do.

1 1 . The Dzepo Spring (The Leper's Spring) : I am cousin to the Western
Spring. He guarantees to cure diseases arising from two or three causes,
also kidney disease, flat foot, rheumatism and gout. I am beneficial in
cases of hemorrhoids, gout, rheumatism and diseases of the feet. I possess
particular virtue in cases of leprosy, sores and wounds.

12. The Lama Spring (The Spring of the Lama) : My virtues are
derived from a large proportion of lime and a little sulphur. I am beneficial
in cases of lung disease, tumours, dyspepsia, both chronic and recent,
poverty of the blood and venereal diseases.

Written by Tsewang in the hope that the People of
Bhutan, Sikkim, and the surrounding country \\t:ll bear this
in mind.

Copied by Tenrab, clearly and exactly, from the original
in the Male Iron Dog Year in the first half of the Earth
Month.

44 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

After leaving the monastery we had a pleasant gallop
across the Lmgmatang Plain, after which the valley narrowed
again and the path followed close beside the rushing stream.
It was a delightful ride through forests of birch, larch, juniper,
spruce, silver fir and mountain ash. Never anywhere have I
seen birch trees grow to such a size. They were grand rugged
old trees that matched the rugged scenery of the gorge.
Blue poppies, fritiUaries, ground orchids and sweet-scented
primulas grew along the path, and mixed up everjrwhere
in the forest were great bushes of R. Cinnaharinum, which
varied in shade from yellow and orange to deep red.
Wagtails and white-crested redstarts dodged about from rock
to rock in the rushing stream, and the clear note of the
shrike could usually be heard above the noise of the waters.
The weather had luckily kept fine aU day, so that we were
able to dawdle along and enjoy the scenery and flowers.

After going about 12 miles we came to the bungalow of
Gautsa, situated at a height of about 12,000 feet, and at
the bottom of the gorge ; here we spent the night. During
the night there was heavy rain, and when we woke in the
morning, fresh snow was low down on all the hills and within
1,500 feet of the bungalow. However, the day again proved
brilliantly fine. For breakfast we had been given some
large wild-goose eggs belonging to the bar-headed goose.
Mine I had boiled, and found excellent, though one was
sufficient for a meal. Two that the others had were rather
passe, and were not equally appreciated. The day's path
was at first very stony and climbed steadily uphill beside
the torrent of the Ammochu. Pale blue iris, yellow primulas,
a pink viburnum and a large yellow-belled lonicera grew
beside the path, but the rhododendrons were still by far
the most wonderful of the flowering shrubs. We passed
many big blue meconopsis, and some of these flowers measured
fully 3 inches across. Dwarf rhododendrons, only a foot
high — some pure white and others pink, continued up until
about 13,500 feet, and then the hillsides became purple
from another little rhododendron, which looked in the

THE CHUMBI VALLEY 45

distance like heather and gave the rounded hills quite a
Scotch appearance. As we rose higher the flowers decreased
in number. Larks and wheatears ran along the ground in
front of us, and small tailless marmot rats dodged in and out
of their holes as we approached. The distance from Goutsa
to Phari was about 16 miles, of which the last 8 miles were
over flat country with a springy turf, on which it was a
pleasure to be able to canter again after having passed
over so many miles of stony roads. Chomolhari, the Mountain
of the Goddess, stood up as a wonderful sight with its sharp
peak outlined against the clear blue sky. On its summit
the wind was evidently very strong, as we could see the
fresh snow being whirled off in clouds.

Phari is an extremely dirty village dominated by a stone
fort and lying under the shadow of the great mountain
Chomolhari, 23,930 feet high. It is 14,300 feet above sea
level, and the climate there is always cold, as it is never
without a strong wind. In the afternoon the Jongpen, or
Governor of the district, came to call on me. He was a
young man with an intelligent and pleasant face, and came
from the country between Khamba Dzong and ShekarDzong,
so that he was able to give us much useful information
about the road ; he promised that he would write to his
brother, who was acting as agent for liim at his home, telhng
him to entertain us and give us all facilities in the matters
of transport and supplies. He told us that he had received
written instructions from the Lhasa Government to arrange
for supplies and transport for us, and he promised that he
would do his best. I gave him photographs that I had
taken last year of his fort, and also of Chomolhari ; these
pleased him very much, and in return he presented us with
a dried sheep which looked mummified and smelt very
strongly, but which proved very acceptable to our cooHes.
It was necessary to stop here for several days as the second
part};- had to catch up, and they too needed a day's rest.
Also the transport that was to carry us along to Khamba
Dzong would not be ready for several days, so the following

46 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

morning I went to call on the Jongpen in his fort, where
I found him li\ang in some very dark rooms. I presented
him with one of the new lever electric torches, which he
much appreciated, though at first he and his servants were
rather frightened by it. He gave us tea and sweetmeats,
and soon afterwards the head-men of all the villages came
in, and were given orders about our transport. Their quaint
attitudes of respect and their darkly bronzed faces, that
just showed up in the light, reminded me forcibly of an old
Dutch picture. Some men, too, had been sent from Khamba
Dzong for orders and to know when we should be likely
to arrive there. In the course of the afternoon Dr. Heron
and I rode over to a monastery about 3 miles away where
I had been last year, and where I had taken some photo-
graphs. Some prints of these I brought back to the monastery,
and the monks were very pleased with them. They were
in the middle of a service when we arrived, as it was some
kind of festival, and the dark temple was illuminated by
hundreds of little butter lamps. The monks were all chanting
their scriptures, and this they continued to do all the afternoon.
On returning to Phari, we found that a message had
come from the Jongpen to ask us to dine with him the
following evening. The change in the climate and the bad
cooking had affected the stomachs of all the members of
the Expedition, and none of us was feeling very well. Dr.
Kellas was the worst, and as soon as he arrived at Phari
he retired to bed. The following morning was misty and
the ground was all white with hoar-frost, though it was
the last day in May ; but as I was anxious to get some
photographs of Chomolhari we rode, with the Chaukidar as
a guide, through the mist across the plain to some hills
just to the South of the great mountain ; after a few miles
we found ourselves above the clouds with the sun shining
in a brilliant blue sky. The whole of the Phari Plain was
covered by a sea of clouds. On the far side rose the Pawhunri
group of mountains, while further to the South, Kanchen-
junga towered above all the other peaks, such as Siniolchum,

CiiiiMdiii Aki luoM rnK Sm i ii.

THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 47

Kabru and Jonsong, all of which stood out very clearly
in this brilliant atmosphere. I rode up a delightful little
mountain valley full of dwarf rhododendrons and Alpine
primulas until I reached a height of 16,000 feet. We then
left the ponies and climbed on to the top of the hill, which
was about 17,500 feet ; from this point we had glorious views
of Chomolhari immediately across the valley, while on the
other side we looked over to the snowy peaks and ranges
in Bhutan far to the South of us. We found the wind very
keen at this height, and after taking several photographs
we rode back again to Phari.

Here I found the place full of troubles. Our Coolie Sirdar
was, as we were beginning to find out, not only useless, but
very mischievous, and he was evidently at the bottom of
an attempted mutiny among our coolies, who refused to
go on. The Sirdar strongly objected to our interpreters,
who were preventing him from fleecing us in the matter
of stores and supplies. However, after much talking they
were all satisfied. Then it was the turn of the cooks, all
of whom the Sirdar had chosen. I should not have minded
one or two of these going, as they were very bad cooks and
usually di'unk, and the fact that all of us had been ill was
solely due to their bad cooking ; but I could not let them
all go, so it was necessary to find out which were the most
useless, and this we were able to do in the course of the next
few days. Dr. Kellas was getting no better ; he refused to
take any food, and was very depressed about himself. At
Phari I was able to change a certain number of our rupees
into Tibetan currency. The then rate of exchange was
33 rupees to 1 sersang — a gold coin — and 4^ silver trangkas
to 1 rupee. The trangkas were a thin and very badly stamped
coin about the size of a two-shilling piece. We found them,
however, to be the most useful form of currency as the gold
coin, though much easier to carry, could only be exchanged
at a few places, and it was seldom that we met people who
were rich enough to be able to change them.

That night four of us went over to have dinner with

48 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

the Jongpen. First we were given tea and sweetmeats,
followed by strong ginger wine, which was most comforting
to our stomachs in their delicate condition. Then came
dishes of mutton in varying forms with vegetables and
macaroni. They were aU served up in Chinese fashion in
httle dishes and some were quite appetising. We were
very late in starting the next morning as all the loads had
to be sorted and laid out for the very miscellaneous transport
that had been given us. This consisted of ponies, mules,
donkeys, buUocks and yaks. For riding-animals we were
given mules, which trotted well and covered the ground
quite quickly, though some of the Alpine cUmbers found
them hard to manage and were apt to part company with
their steeds. Our transport was by now becoming rather
complicated as forty-four animals were going right through
to Khamba Dzong and forty-four were being changed at
every stage. Dr. Kellas was not well enough to ride and
was carried in an arm-chair all day. Soon after starting
I passed two of our cooks on the road hopelessly drunk,
and left them there. Our way led over the Tang La, a very
gentle and scarcely perceptible pass, 15,200 feet, but
important as being the main Himalayan watershed. All
day there was a very-^ strong South wind blowing, but it
was luckily at our backs, and we did not feel it too much.
We then quickly trotted the 10 miles across the absolutely
level Tang-piin-sum Plain. Here I saw several herds of
kiang, the wild ass of Tibet, and got within 50 yards of one
lot, but unfortunately the coolie who was carrying my
camera was not up with me at the time. We also passed
a certain number of Tibetan gazelle, but they were all very
wary. The Monsoon clouds came up to the South of us in
great rolling billows, but not a drop of moisture came over
the Tang La. Chomolhari was a magnificent sight all day
with its 7,000 feet of precipices descending sheer into the
plain. Tuna (14,800 feet), about 20 miles from Phari, was
our first halt. We were still on the main road to Lhasa
and found a comfortable rest-house into which the eight of

THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 49

us all managed to stow ourselves. Dr. Kellas, though rather
better the next day, was still too weak to ride, and was
carried for the next march on a litter. We were now in
the true Tibetan climate, with brilliant sunshine, blue skies,
still mornings and strong winds all the afternoon.

The next march from Tuna to Dochen was still on the
Lhasa Road. I did not follow the path, but rode with a
local man from the village over the great Tang-piin-sum
Plain in search of goa — Tibetan gazelle. We saw many
of them on the plains, but they were the wiliest and most
difficult animals to approach, and in this flat and bare
country it was not possible ever to get within 300 yards
of them. As a rule they ran ofi when we were still half
a mile away. They are restless little creatures, always
on the move, and never at any time an easy mark to hit.
I thoroughly enjoyed this ride over the plains and our
glorious views of Chomolhari and the great snow-covered
and glaciated chain to the North of it along the foot of
which we were traveUing. A curious pink trumpet-shaped
flower grew in great quantities on the plain ; the leaves
were buried under the sand and only the flower showed
its head above the ground. There were also white pin-
cushions of a kind of tiny saxifrage. This plain, over which
we were riding, was evidently once upon a time a lake bed,
as the pebbles were rounded and there were distinct evidences
of former shores along the sides of the hills. Many kiang
were grazing on it and many thousands of sheep were being
pastured there. As we approached the lake called Bamtso,
the country became very marshy, and our ponies got bogged
several times. The bungalow at Dochen was situated near
the shores of the Bamtso. Never have I seen a lake with
so many colours in it. It was very shallow, and the shades
varied from deep blue and purple to Hght green, while in
places it was almost red from a weed that grew in it. Behind
it was a background of snow and glacier-covered mountains,
which in the still mornings was reflected faithfully in its
waters and formed a charming picture. Swimming on this

M.E. B

50 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

lake were many bar-headed geese and Brahminy ducks, and
along the shores were many terns and yellow wagtails.

That evening an amusing thing happened in the kitchen.
One of our cooks was heating up a tin of tinned fish and had
put it in some hot water without previously opening it.
When he thought it was sufficiently hot, he started to open
it, with the result that it exploded violently, covering him
and every one else in the kitchen with small pieces of fish.
I was able then to explain to the Tibetans who were carrying
our loads that our stores were very dangerous, and that if
any were at any time stolen, they would be liable to explode
and hurt them. It was, of course, the rarefied air that had
caused this, for Dochen is at a height of 14,700 feet above
sea level.

Every day on from now the wind used to blow with great
violence all the afternoon, but would die down after sunset.
It must have been of a local nature caused by the rapid
changes from high temperature to low, because the clouds
above at the same time were hardly moving. I sent back
Dorje, one of our cooks, from this place, as it was the fourth
time that he had been drunk, and this I hoped would be
a lesson to the others. We now left the Lhasa Road and
turned off Westwards, having henceforward to rely on our
tents.

From Dochen to Khe was a short march of 11 miles over
the Dug Pass, 16,400 feet. I did not follow the road taken
by the transport animals, but took a local guide and rode
over the hill-tops in search of ovis ammon. I did not see
any, however, though we sighted two or three goa, but they
were very wild and would not allow me to approach within
500 yards of them. There were numbers of blue hares,
however, and some ram chakor, the Himalayan snow cock.
But beyond this the hillsides were very bare of game. There
were pin-cushions of a beautiful little blue sedum growing
at a height of over 17,000 feet, also there was a big red
stonecrop. Khe is now only a small and dirty village with
practically no water except a half-diicd muddy pond, but

THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 51

at one time it must have been a place of some importance,
as ruins and buildings of considerable size extend over
an area of more than a mile. The Kala-tso evidently at
one time came right up to this ruined town of Khetam,
and the fact that it is deserted now is probably due to the
shrinkage of the lake. This was only one of the many signs
of desiccation that we saw in our travels in Tibet. There
were some curious ruins which looked like old crenellated
walls, but these walls were only places on which barley dough
used to be exposed to feed the crows as a sign of prosperity.
It was a curious custom and could only have prevailed in
a very fertile valley, which this place is no longer. The age
of the city I could not find out, but the few survivors told
me that the holy shrine at Tashilumpo, which now is at
Shigatse, ought to have been built here. According to
a local legend, there was a certain stone in Khetam shaped
like a ewe's- womb, and one day a donkey driver finding
that his loads were unequal in weight, picked up this stone
and put it on the light load to balance the other, quite
unaware of the importance of the stone. This stone was
then carried from Gyantse to Shigatse, where a high and
important Lama saw it, and recognising that this was a
very holy stone, had it kept there. The powerful monastery
of Tashilumpo was built over this stone. We passed two
smaU nunneries called Doto and Shidag in snug little valleys
to the North of the plain, and on askmg why there should
be so many nunneries in these parts when in the greater
part of Tibet men predominated, I was told that this was
due to the fact that it was close to the Nepalese frontier
where there had always been much fightmg, so that most
of the men had been killed and only women had survived.
After a short and easy march we came to a smaU pocket
in the hills called lOieru. Here were encamped some people
belonging to a nomad tribe who always lived in tents. They
were very friendly, put tents at our disposal, and did their
best to make us comfortable. They told us that they came
here every year in the twelfth month, about January, and

52 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

left again in the fifth month of the Tibetan year (June) for
a place near Tuna, where they disposed of their wool, butter
and cheese at the Phari market. There were altogether
about twenty famihes here owning some 200 yaks and 3,000
sheep. Dr. Kellas was sUghtly better, but Raeburn was
not feeling at aU well, and Wheeler was suffering from
indigestion, so that we were rather a sick party. Kheru
lies at a height of 15,700 feet, but it had been very hot all
day in the briUiant sunshine, and on the way we had passed
Uzards and a number of common peacock butterflies. Next
morning our march was to Tatsang (Falcon's Nest), a distance
of 15 or 16 miles, and over two passes 16,450 and 17,100
feet. The going was easy all the way, as the gradients
both up and down the passes were very gentle. Between
the two passes was a broad valley, filled with huge flocks of
sheep and herds of yaks, and after crossing the second pass,
we descended into a great barren and stony plain, more
than 10 miles across which was Tatsang and over wliich the
wind blew very keenly. To the South of us appeared the
snowy crests of Pawhunri, Kanchenjhow and Chomiomo and
the Lhonak peaks. Again I did not keep with the transport,
but followed the crests of the hiUs, where I had lovely views ;
on the way I saw plenty of gazelle, and was lucky enough
to shoot one of them, as they are very good eating. Our
camp at Tatsang was pitched just below the nunnery there,
which is on the top of a rock and where there are about
thirty nuns. Our camp was on a pleasant grassy spot where
some excellent springs bubble up out of the ground. These
within a few yards formed quite a big stream full of small
snow trout. They do not really belong to the trout family,
although they have somewhat similar spots, and are very
good to eat. Bullock, with his butterfly net, and the coolies
with their hands, managed to catch quite a number of fish,
and we had them for dinner that night. The ground round
our tents was full of holes out of which the marmot rats
kept appearing. They were very tame, and did not seem
to be in the least afraid of us. Dr. Kellas had had a very

THE TIBETAN PLATEAU 53

trying day. He had been rather better, and had started
riding a yak, but he found this too exhausting and coolies
had to be sent back from Tatsang to bring him on in a Htter,
so that he did not arrive at Tatsang till late in the evening.
Tatsang is 16,000 feet, so the night was cold, the thermo-
meter inside the tent registering 7° of frost, though it was
June 4 ; outside there must have been quite 15° as the
running streams were all frozen over, but once the sun had
risen everything warmed up and we had a beautiful warm
day. Dr. Kellas started ofiE in his htter at 7 a.m. in quite
good spirits. I did not start till an hour later, as I had
wanted to see everything off, and then went up to visit
the nunnery, over which the lady abbess showed me. There
were thirty nuns hving there, all with shorn heads and
wearing a curious wool head-dress. The place where they
worshipped was full of prayer wheels, both large and smaU.
They sat down behind these, and each nun turned one or
two of them if they could manage it. The room was very
dark, with a low ceiling, and at the end were several statues
of Buddha covered over with gauze veils. In another room
there was a large prayer wheel which they said contained
half a milHon prayers.

After leaving the nunnery we jogged along a dry and
barren vaUey which gradually rose in about 12 miles to
a pass 17,200 feet. On the way we passed Dr. Kellas in
his htter, who then seemed to me to be stiU quite cheerful.
I then rode on and at the top of the pass saw three ovis
ammon, and after a chase of about a mile I shot one, which
afforded plenty of food for the coolies for some days. It
was a full grown ram about five years old and we had great
trouble in getting the carcass on to a mule, as it was enormous
and very heavy. After this I rode on do^vn the valley for
another 10 miles to Khamba Dzong. There were actually
a few bushes m this valley, which was carpeted wdth the
pretty pink trumpet-shaped flower mentioned above, also
with hght and dark blue iris. Suddenly the valley narrowed
into a fine hmestone gorge, and all at once the fort of Khamba

54 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

Dzong appeared towering above us on the cliffs. It was
really a very impressive sight and some of the architecture
of the round towers was very fine. I found that Morshead
had been waiting here for about nine days, but had employed
his time in fixing the old triangulation points. Soon after
I arrived the Jongpen came down to pay us a visit. He
was quite a young fellow, only about twenty-four, but very
pleasant and polite.

While we were talking, a man came running up to us
very excitedly to say that Dr. Kellas had suddenly died on
the way. We could hardly believe this, as he was apparently
gradually getting better ; but WoUaston at once rode off
to see if it was true, and unfortunately found that there
was no doubt about it. It was a case of sudden failure of
the heart, due to his weak condition, while being carried over
the high pass. His death meant a very great loss to the
Expedition in every way, as he alone was qualified to carry
out the experiments in oxygen and blood pressure which
would have been so valuable to the Expedition, and on
which subject he was so great an expert. His very keenness
had been the cause of his illness, for he had tried his
constitution too severely in the early months of that year
by expeditions into the heart of the Himalayas to see if he
could get fresh photographs from other angles of Mount
Everest. The following day we buried him on the slopes of
the hill to the Sbuth of Khamba Dzong, in a site unsurpassed
for beauty that looks across the broad jilains of Tibet to
the mighty chain of the Himalayas out of which rise up
the three great peaks of Pawhunri, Kanchenjhow and
Chomiomo, which he alone had climbed. From the same
spot, far away to the West — more than a hundred miles
away — could be seen the snowy crest of Mount Everest
towering far above all the other mountains. He lies,
therefore, within sight of his greatest feats in climbing and
within view of the mountain that he had longed for so
many years to approach — a fitting resting-place for a great
mountaineer.

K \MrA DZONG.

CHAPTER III

FROM KHA:\IBA DZOXG through U:NTQsOWN
COUNTRY TO TIXGRI

Our camp at Khamba Dzong* was pitched in a walled
enclosure at the foot of the fort, built on a great crag that
rose 500 feet sheer above us. They called this enclosure a
Bagichah, or garden, because it once boasted of three willow
trees. Only one of these three is alive to-day, the other
two being merely dead stumps of wood. The Jongpen here,
who was under the direct orders of Shigatse, was very friendl}-,
and after our arrival presented us with five live sheep, a
hundred eggs, and a small carpet which he had had made
in his o\\Ti factory in the fort. Xext afternoon Morshead,
Wollaston and myself went up to pay the Jongpen a visit
in his fort. It was a steep climb from our camp, past long
Mendongs or Mani walls covered with inscribed prayers.
The Jongpen was at the entrance waiting to receive us.
He then showed us over his stables, where he had several
nice Tibetan ponies, which strongly objected to Eui'opeans
and lashed out fiercely as we approached them. After
looking at them we went up many flights of most dangerously
steep stairs, almost in pitch darkness the whole time, until
we came to a small courtj'ard. Then after climbing up
more steps, we were ushered into a small latticed room
where we were given the usual Tibetan tea and sweetmeats.
I presented the Jongpen with one of the new lever electric
torches, with wliich he was much pleased, saying it would
be of much use to him in going up and down his dark
staircases. After tea he took us up on to the roof of the
fort, which was quite flat, and from which we had a most
magnificent view. We stood on the top of a great precipice

* Dzong means fort.
55

56 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

and looked straight down at our camp, which lay many
hundred feet below but almost within a stone's throw. From
here too we could look across the wide plains and valleys
of the Yarn and its tributaries to the main chain of the
Himalayas which formed the Southern boundary to the
picture. From this side they do not appear nearly as
imposing as they do when seen from the South. Seen as
they are from a height of over 15,000 feet, the distance to
the sky line is not nearly so great, and as a rule we found
the Northern slopes to be much less steep than those on
the Southern side. The snow line, too, was also several
thousand feet higher. Every day great masses of moist
cumulus clouds came rolling up and round the peaks to the
South of us, indicating heavy faUs of rain and snow on the
South, but very little of this came over the watershed —
only an occasional slight hailstorm or a few drops of rain.
From this point we could see as far West as Mount Everest,
stiU over a hundred miles away. After spending some time
up there and admiring and discussing the view, we descended
once more into the fort, where the Jongpen showed us some
of the carpets that his womenfolk were busy making and
promised to have some ready for us by the time that we
came back. We also much admired the curious old locks
by which the doors and boxes were fastened ; before leaving,
he made me a present of one of these locks.

June 7 saw us still at Khamba Dzong, as the transport
would not be ready till the following day. Raeburn, who
for some time had been suffering from the same complamt
as Dr. Kellas, was unfortunately getting no better and was
getting weaker every day. We were therefore reluctantly
compelled to send him back again into Sikldm to Lachen,
where he could be taken charge of by the lady missionaries
and properly looked after. Wollaston and Gyalzen Kazi
were to accompany him down to Lachen, and if possible to
rejoin us by the time that we got to Tingri. This break-up
of our climbing party was most annoying and seriously
weakened our party, obhging us to alter our plans for

FEOM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 57

reconnoitring in a thorough manner the various approaches
to Mount Everest. The following day, after a good deal
of delay and argument about the loads, we got everything
loaded up and started off for Lingga, a march of about 16
miles to the West. For the first few miles we rode across a
great plain on which were several small herds of goa, but
these were very wary and kept well out of shot. The path
then took us alongside a small isolated rocky hill in which
we kept putting up numerous hares who often got up right
under our ponies' feet. We crossed the Yaru River, now
only a small stream, at the picturesque village of Mende
with its fine willow trees, and then after passing over a spur,
formed of slaty rock, we descended into another great plain
which extended all the way to Tingri. Five miles across this
plain was the village of Lingga, surrounded by marshes and
ponds, with barley fields and rich grass growing between
the patches of water. There were several other villages in
sight, so that the plain was evidently fertile and could support
a considerable population. This was the first place where
we became bothered by sand flies, which in the morning
were very troublesome ; but when the wind got up, as it
always did in the afternoons, it blew them away, and for
once was welcome. The villagers were very hospitable ;
they produced tea and beer brewed from barley for us as
soon as we arrived there. The latter is quite a pleasant
drink on a hot day, but it did not agree with my inside at
all. The people here had never seen a European before,
and though at first incHned to be rather shy, they soon
became very friendly and curious. Some pieces of silver
paper from chocolates quite won the hearts of the children
who flocked around and did not in the least mind being
photographed. To the South extended the chain of snows
of the main range of the Himalayas, and on the way we
had several clear and distinct views of Mount Everest.
Morshead, who had left the day before, was camped at a
small monastery a few miles to the North of us in order to
follow the crest of the ridge of hills and to survey both sides,

58 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

but was to join us again at Tinki. The weather now was
really delightful, though to the South of us we still saw
heavy clouds which brought showers of snow as far as the
mountains, but they did not reach us.

From here to Tinki was about 13 miles over a perfectly
level plain. The midges or sand flies were very troublesome
the whole way and came in hundreds round one's head, got
inside one's topee, and were thoroughly objectionable. The
plain appeared very fertile, as there seemed to be plenty of
water and great herds of yaks and flocks of sheep were
grazing upon it. In the marshes and ponds were many
bar-headed geese, Brahminy ducks, mallard and teal. After
the rains, it is evident that a great part of this plain is under
water. About a couple of miles from Tinki we crossed some
curious sand dunes, about 20 feet high, which are evidently
on the move, and soon afterwards the Jongpen of Tinki
came riding out to meet us with a few mounted followers,
he himself riding a fine white pony. He was very Chinese
in appearance, wearing finely embroidered silks with a
Chinese hat and a long pigtail, and his manners were
excellent. He escorted us to the place where our camp
was to be, and had had three or four tents already pitched for
us. Tea and country beer were at once served, and we
rested in the shade of his Chinese tents until our transport
arrived.

We were encamped in a very picturesque spot beside a
large pond that was full of bar-headed geese, Brahminy
ducks and terns. On the opposite side of this pond rose
the walls and towers of the fort of Tinki. As soon as we had
settled down, the Jongpen came again to pay us a formal
visit, presented us with four sheep and a couple of hundred
eggs and promised to do everything he could to help us and
to forward us on our way. Half a mile above us was a large
village and a big monastery belonging to the Yellow Sect of
Buddhists who also owned a fine grove of willows. The
bottom of the valley was all covered with barley fields, now
a tender green and coming up well. As the fresh transport

IXKl 1 l/.oNi;.

FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 59

had not arrived, we had to spend the following day there. This
gave an opportunity for Abdul Jalil, our photographic
assistant, to rejoin us. We had sent him back to Phari
in order to change some more rupees into Tibetan currency,
as we found that Indian notes or rupees were not accepted
any further to the West. Abdul Jalil had been very nervous
about travelling with so much money and had borrowed a
revolver and a rifle from members of the Expedition besides
two large Tibetan swords and a dagger which he obtained
from the Jongpen. In the morning, with Bullock, I went
to return the call of the Jongpen. His fort at the time was
under repair, so he was living in a small house outside the
main building. He was very affable and gave us tea : we
were then able to make all the arrangements for transport
except the actual fixing of the price. For this he said he
would have to consult his head-men. Just as we were about
to leave he insisted on our eating the large meal which he
had had prepared for us. He gave us small dishes of excellent
macaroni and mince, seasoned up with chillies and very
well cooked — much better than anything our cooks could
produce. This we had to eat with chopsticks — a somewhat
difficult proceeding, as we were not yet used to them. Later
on, however, after much practice, we found no difficulty in
consuming the numerous bowls of this excellent dish that
the Tibetans always set before one. The Jongpen told us
that he had been twenty-nine years in Government service,
and he was expecting to have a better post than this shortly.
His health was poor and he said he had been suffering much
from indigestion, so I gave him some pills and tabloids, for
which he was very grateful. On the return journey, he
told me that he had greatly benefited by my treatment.
The bar-headed geese and the wild duck here were
extraordinarily tame, allowing us to approach within five
yards of them and showing no signs of fear. They would
come and waddle round our tents, picking up any scraps
of food. The Jongpen had begged us not to shoot or kiU
any of them, as he said a Lama had been sent specially

60 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

from Lhasa some years ago in order to tame the creatures,
and certainly the result was extraordinary ; it was most
interesting to watch these bii^ds, ordinarily so wild, from
so close a distance. In the evening the Jongpen came over
to see us again, and after a good hour's bargaining over the
price of the transport, we finally reached a reasonable and
amicable agreement. Every evening, to the South of us,
there were constant flashes of lightning all along the horizon.
In the morning I woke up to the unusual sound of drops
of rain, but this only lasted for five minutes and then cleared
up, though the sky remained clouded all the morning. There
was the usual fighting and confusion about the loads, each
person trying to get the Hghtest loads for his own animal.
The result was that there was much talking and fighting,
and nothing was actually done until some head-man would
come and take control and decide the dispute. The method
of adjudication was as follows : — From each of the families
who were regarded as responsible for the supply of a transport
animal was taken one of the embroidered garters by which
the man's felt boots are kept in their place. These garters
were shuffled, as one might shuffle a pack of cards, after
which a single garter was laid upon each load. The family
to which the garter belonged thereupon became responsible
for that load and had to pack it upon the animal's back.
Although we had only ninety animals, there were forty-five
different families supplying them.

The march from Tinki to Chushar Nango was about 14
miles and was up the valley behind Tinki to the Tinki Pass.
On the way we passed well-irrigated fields of barley and
then climbed up a spur covered with a small yeUow cistus.
After this a long gentle pull brought us to the top of the
pass, 17,100 feet. There was a very fine view from here
to the East looking over Tinki and Khamba Dzong and along
the Northern slopes of the Himalayas. I climbed up a hill
about 600 feet above the pass, whence I had a more extensive
view still. I could see far away to the East to Chomolhari,
while in the foreground was the large and picturesque lake

FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 61

called Tsomotretung backed by the rugged chain of peaks
that separated us from the valley of the Brahmaputra.
To the West we looked down into the valley of the Yaru,
which flowed gently through a broad and flat valley. To the
South-west was a range of sharp granite peaks rising up to
22,000 feet, which ran North and South and forced the
Yaru to flow round them before it could find its way into
Nepal. The descent from the pass was much steeper. We
passed many of our old friends the pink trumpet-shaped
flowers, also a curious white and pink flower, rather Hke a
daphne in shape, and smelling very sweetly, which grew in
masses along the path. It was evidently poisonous as no
animal would touch it. I picked some flowers of it and
put them in my buttonhole, but was warned by the Tibetans
not to do so, as they said it was poisonous and would give
me a headache. Lower down the valley was full of small
dwarf gorse bushes— 1 foot to 18 inches high — which carpeted
the ground. Everywhere were flocks of sheep and cattle
grazing in the valley. Our camp was pitched on a grassy
flat just below the village of Chushar Nango with its fine
old ruined tower of stone with machicolated galleries all
round it. To the South of us was the Nila Pass, which
afforded an easy way into Nepal. The cUmate here was
fairly warm, but the wind blew very strongly all that evening.
Next day we saw the mountains all covered with fresh snow
down to 16,000 feet, but we only experienced a slight drizzle
as most of the snowflakes evaporated before they reached
the ground, though clouds remained overhead all the morning.
Morshead and his surveyors had been kept very busy up till
now surveying and plotting in the intervening country from
the tops of the hills, but o^ving to the clouds they were
unable to do anything. We were all very late in starting,
as our transport animals had been changed and the yaks
that were supplied to us were very wild. In the first few
minutes after starting we saw the plain strewn with our
kits and stores, and yaks careermg off in every direction
with theii* tails in the air.

62 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

The march to Gyangkar Nangpa to-day was only a short
one and led across a wide plain through which flowed the
muddy and sluggish waters of the Yaru. The existing maps
of this country were quite misleading and we could no longer
depend on them. The rivers flowed in opposite directions
to those shown on the map and mountains were shown
where there were none. After about 2 or 3 miles, we had
to ford the river, which was about 80 yards wide and not
quite 3 feet deep. We then rode on across the plain, which
was in some parts sandy and in others muddy or gravelly ;
evidently during the rainy season a shallow lake. In places
the dwarf gorse grew on it. The sandy tracks were covered
with curious hillocks 5 to 6 feet in height formed by the
di'iftmg sand and the gorse bushes. These in order to keep
ahve were compelled to push their branches through the
sand which in its turn became piled up around them.
Towards the West end of the plain were marshes and shallow
lakes around which we had to make big detours.

Gyangkar Nangpa, which was our destination, was the
country residence of the Phari Jongpen. His brother, who
was acting as agent for him, rode out to meet us and escorted
us to his house, a fine solid stone building dommatmg all
the small houses. The tops of the walls were covered with
gorse and juniper, rather suggestive of Christmas decorations.
Tents were pitched for us in a grass paddock close to a grove
of wiUows. We were then conducted upstairs into a pleasant
room where were some fine gilt Chinese cabinets and some
good Chinese rugs. Here the Jongpen had a meal prepared
for us. We were first given tea, milk and beer, after which
some fifteen dumplings apiece, each as big as a small apple,
were put down in front of us together with three other bowls.
In one of these was a black Chinese sauce, in another a chflhe
paste, and a third contained a barley soup. We were then
given chopsticks with which we were expected to convey
the dumplings into the barley soup, break them up there,
season them with the various sauces, and then convey them
to our mouths — a not too easy feat. This meal was so

FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 63

satisfying that we felt that we did not want to eat anything
for a long time afterwards. We were told that in the rainy
season the river here was unfordable, as it rose several feet
and flooded over the plains, and it was then necessary to
keep to the North or to the South of it. In the evening
the agent came to make an official call and presented us
with a sheep and a number of eggs. We invited him to
dinner and gave him his first taste of such European cooking
as could be provided by our native cooks.

There was a slight frost during the night, but the day
turned out very fine. Our host accompanied us to the village
of Rongkong, one of the villages belonging to his brother,
and here he said good-bye to us. The day's march was
uninteresting. We followed along the left bank of the
Yaru past wcll-uTigated barley fields, for there was any
amount of water here, until the valley narrowed and the
sides came down steeper, when it became covered with
gorse bushes. This valley we descended for about 10 miles
until it debouched into another, a broader sandy valley
where the Yaru changed its course to the South. We forded
it at a point where it was about 90 yards wide and 3J feet
deep, and we then sat down and waited for our transport
to come up. Beyond us lay a wide sandy valley through
which a stream flowed sometimes on the surface, but more
often underground, when it formed dangerous quicksands.
When the transport came up, our drivers were very anxious
to cross immediately, as there was a strong ^vind blowing
and a violent sandstorm. They said that it would be much
safer to cross now that all the fresh sand had blown over
the wet sand. In the morning, they said, after a still night,
it was very dangerous, so following their advice we started
off, every one dressed up as though for a gas attack,
with goggles over the eyes and comforters or handkerchiefs
tied over the mouth and nose to keep the sand out. At
first we wound our way through big sand dunes, off which
the sand was blowing like smoke. Under one of these sand
dunes we found our coolies halted and lost. Some of the

64 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

donkeys, too, had been unloaded here, as they could not
find their way across in the sandstorm. After leaving the
dunes, there were wide stretches of wet sand to cross, over
which the dried sand from the dunes was being blown like
long wisps of smoke so that the whole ground appeared to
be moving. In places where the wet sand shook and quivered
we galloped along. Eventually we and our transport arrived
on the far side of the plain in safety. It was now too late,
however, to go on any further, so we camped on the dunes
near the quicksands in the teeth of the gale. The sand was
being whirled up on to us and into our tents until everything
and every one was fuU of sand. Water was handy, but
yak dung, our only fuel, was scarce and scanty.

Just before dark a very beautiful and lofty peak appeared
to the Southwards. Our drivers called it Chomo Uri (The
Goddess of the Turquoise Peak) and we had many
discussions as to what mountain this was. In the morning,
after taking its bearings carefully, we decided that this
could be no other than Mount Everest. We found out
afterwards that the name, Chomo Uri, was purely a local
name for the mountain. Throughout Tibet it was known
as Chomo-lungma — Goddess Mother of the Country — and
this is its proper Tibetan name.

Next morning, after an uncomfortable and windy night,
we rode for several miles across a plain covered with sand
dunes 20 feet or more in height. On reaching the entrance
to the valley of Bhong-chu, I determined to separate myself
from the main party in order to explore a peak which attracted
my attention on the North side of the valley and seemed to
promise good views of JMount Everest and its surroundings.
After a climb of some 3,000 feet, I found myself on a spur
from which I had a very wonderful view. The view extended
to the East from beyond Chomolhari — over 120 miles away
— and embraced practically all the high snow peaks from
Chomolhari to Gosainthan, a distance of some 250 miles.
In the centre Mount Everest stood up all by itself, a wonderful
peak towering above its neighbours and entirely without a

FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 65

rival. I spent four or five hours at the top of this hill, basking
in the sun, as it was delightfully hot. I saw several swallow-
tailed butterflies, also a number of bees, wasps and horse
flies. Major Morshead and his surveyors soon afterwards
joined us, intending to take advantage of the fine view.
In the afternoon I left the peak and descended into the valley
in search of our new camp, for we had now left the Yaru and
had turned up into the valley of the Bhong-chu, a river that
flowed from the West, with a very considerable volume of
water. As there was rinderpest in the valley, our transport
consisted now of donkeys only, many of them being very
diminutive in size, but quite accustomed to carrying heavy
loads. Our camp was pitched at a place called Trangso
Chumbab, where there was an old Chinese rest-house. The
Bhong-chu here was nearly 200 yards in width, but there
was quite a good ford across it to Tsogo. Here we found
many flourishing villages and much cultivation. We seemed
to be entering a much more populated part of the country ;
from the top of the hill I counted in one valley no less than
fifteen villages and quite a number of willow groves. From
here a longish march of 18 miles up the valley of the Bhong-chu
brought us to Kyishong — a pretty little village on the banks
of the river. There were a few willow trees here and a lot
of sea buckthorn. I did not keep to the road, but started
early across a big plain on which I was lucky enough to
shoot a goa with quite good horns. The day was very hot
and sultry, and after crossing the plain I went up a side
valley which turned out to be extremely pretty. It was
very narrow and a mass of wild rose bushes. These roses
were all of a creamy yellow, and every bush was covered
with hundreds of sweet-smelling flowers. There was also a
curious black clematis and several species of broom and
rock cistus. Here and there were grassy patches with
bubbling springs of crystal clearness. Rock pigeons,
Brahminy ducks, blackbirds and numerous other varieties
of small birds came down to drink here and did not mind us
at all. About two o'clock the weather suddenly changed

M.E. F

66 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

and violent thunderstorms started aU round us, first on the
opposite side of the valley and then on every side. Heavy
hail came down at the same time and the ground soon became
white. On descending into the valley, I put up what was
to me a new kind of partridge, also numerous mountain
hares. On emerging into the main valley, I noticed a group
of five large Chortens. I was told that the centre Chorten
had been built over a very bad demon, and that it kept
him down. The other four Chortens at the corners prevented
his ever getting away.

The next day's march to Shekar Dzong was a short one
of only 12 miles. We followed the main valley for about
6 miles through some interesting conglomerate gorges
alternating with open spaces covered with sea buckthorn.
We then turned o& Northwards up a side valley which led
us to the town and fort of Shekar. This place was very
finely situated on a big rocky and sharp-pointed mountain
like an enlarged St. INIichael's Mount. The actual town
stands at the foot of the hill, but a large monastery, holding
over 400 monks and consisting of innumerable buildings, is
literally perched half-way up the cliff. The buildings are
connected by walls and towers with the fort, which rises
above them all. The fort again is connected by turreted
waUs with a curious Gothic-like structure on the summit of
the hill where incense is offered up daily. On our arrival
the whole town turned out and surrounded us with much
curiosity, for we were the first Europeans that they had ever
seen. A small tent had been pitched for us, but there was
such a crowd round it that I retreated to a willow grove
close by, which was protected by a wall. As the Jongpen
had not come to see us, Chheten Wangdi went over to find
him ; presently he came along with a basket of eggs and
with many apologies for not coming before, but he said that
he had had no warning of our arrival. This was but partly
true, for though our passport did not particularly mention
this place, it authorised all officials to help us to their utmost,
and the Jongpen certainly knew and had heard that we

FROM KHAMBA DZONG TO TINGRI 67

were coming. I asked him to give orders that no intoxicating
spirits should be served out to our followers, remembering
the trouble we had had in one or two places before owing to
their all getting drunk. Our tents were all pitched inside
an enclosure and in the shade of the willow grove, and above
us towered the picturesque buildings of the fort and the
monastery. This was by far the largest and most interesting
place that we had yet come across. For our mess tent we were
given a fine Chinese tent such as they always seem to keep for
the entertainment of guests of honour. As in most places, there
were two Jongpens residing here, one lay and the other
ecclesiastical, and finding that Tingriwas under their jurisdic-
tion, we asked them to issue orders to their representatives
at Tingri to help us in every way with supplies and transport.
June 17 we spent resting at Shekar. In the morning
Morshead and I went to call on the Jongpen ; he lives in
a poor house at the foot of the hill, his official residence
being three-quarters of the way up, but he wisely prefers
to Uve at the bottom, not being very fond of exercise. He
was busy adding on to his house, and we were shown into
the old part in which he was living. He gave us the usual
Tibetan tea and sweetmeats and then insisted on our having
macaroni and meat seasoned with chillies, which was
excellent, followed by junket served in china bowls. He
had some very fine teacups of agate and hornblende schist
with finely chased silver covers, which I admired very much.
That afternoon several of us went up to visit the big monas-
tery of Shekar Cho-te. This consisted of a great number
of buildings terraced one above the other on a very steep
rocky slope. A path along the face of the rock brought
us to several archways under which we passed. We then
had to go up and down some picturesque but very steep and
narrow streets until we came to a large courtyard. On
one side of this was the main temple. In this temple were
several gilt statues of Buddha decorated all over with
turquoises and other precious stones, and behind them
a huge figure of Buddha quite 50 feet high. Every year,

68 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

they told us, they had to re-gild his face. Around were
eight curious figures about 10 feet high and dressed in quaint
flounces which they said were the guardians of the shrine.
We then went up steep and slippery ladders, in almost
pitch darkness, and came out on a platform opposite the
face of the great Buddha. Here were some beautifully
chased silver teapots and other interesting pieces of silver,
richly decorated in relief. Inside the shrine, which was
very dark, the smell of rancid butter was almost overpowering
as aU the lamps burnt butter. The official head of the
monastery showed us round. He was apparently appointed
from Lhasa and was responsible for all the revenues and
financial deahngs of the monastery. We were given very
buttery tea in the roof courtyard, which was a pleasant
spot, and here I photographed a group of several monks.
They had never seen a camera or photographs before, but
they had heard that such a thing was possible and were
very much interested in it. Before leaving we went in to
see the Head Lama who had lived over sixty-six years in
this monastery. He was looked upon as being extremely
holy and as the re-incarnation of a former abbot, and they
therefore practically worshipped him. There was only one
tooth left in his mouth, but for all that he had a very pleasant
smile. All around his room were silver-gilt Chortens inlaid
with turquoises and precious stones and incense was being
burnt everywhere. After much persuasion the other monks
induced him to come outside and have his photograph
taken, telling him that he was an old man, and that his
time on earth was now short, and they would like to have
a picture of him to remember him by. He was accordingly
brought out, dressed up in robes of beautiful golden brocades,
with priceless silk Chinese hangings arranged behind him
while he sat on a raised dais with his dorje and his bell in
front of him, placed upon a finely carved Chinese table. The
fame of this photograph spread throughout the country
and in places hundreds of miles away I was asked for photo-
graphs of the Old Abbot of Shekar Cho-te, nor could I give

I'llK AHBOT i>|- ShKKAK ('llDTK.

FROM KHAJVIBA DZONG TO TINGRI 69

a more welcome present at any house than a photograph
of the Old Abbot. Being looked upon as a saint, he was
worshipped, and they would put these little photographs
in shrines and burn incense in front of them.

About midnight that night I was suddenly awakened
by yells and loud shouting and hammering close to my
tent and next to that in which Bullock and Mallory were
sleeping. The latter turned out and found that a Tibetan
had seized an ice axe and a mallet and was busy hammering
on our store boxes. He gave chase, but failed to catch
the intruder. Some of our coolies, however, found out
where he had gone to, and Chheten Wangdi had him handed
over to the Jongpen. On investigation in the morning the
man proved to be a madman whom his parents always kept
locked up during nights when the moon was full, but he had
managed to escape, so we handed him back to his family.

Our transport was very slow in arriving, and there were
so many delays that it was midday before the procession
finally moved off. The loads, too, were very badly put on
and kept falling off, also the transport was quite the worst
that we had yet had. For about 5 miles the path went
up and down hill and through much sand until we came
to the bridge over the Bhong-chu. This bridge consisted of
four or five stout pillars of loose stones which acted as piers,
on which were laid a few pieces of wood, on which flat stones
were placed. It was a rough form of bridge, but served
at ordinary times for its purpose. During the course of
this summer, however, after heavy rain, these piers so
dammed up the water as to cause it to rise some 4 or 5 feet
on the upper side of them with the result that the immense
weight of water swept the whole bridge away. Bullock
and Mallory with half a dozen coolies had left early in the
morning, intending to bivouac out for a couple of nights
and climb one of the hills to the South of the Bhong-chu
in order to get a view of Mount Everest. After we had gone
about 5 miles we met them close to the bridge, as they had
lost their way and had been walking for about 15 miles :

70 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

not having found the bridge, they had forded the river
and had got wet up to their necks in crossing it. At dusk
we reached the village of Tsakor, where we found a tent
pitched for us, and here we spent the night. Our transport
did not turn up tiU nearly nine o'clock, and so we all slept
in the mess tent. From here to Tingri was still another
20 miles — the path following the right bank of the Bhong-chu
the whole way. In places the river was as much as 200
yards wide and flowed very sluggishly. We were told that
the waters were very low, but that next month, when the
rains had broken, the river often filled the whole of the
bottom of the valley. On the way we passed some very
handsome black-necked cranes as large as the Saurus crane.
These had black heads and bills, with red eyes, light grey
bodies and black tails with fine feathers. On this march
the midges were dreadfully annoying the whole way, and we
were surrounded \\dth clouds of them the whole time. Their
bite was very tiresome and extremely irritating. On the
way we passed a Mongolian who had taken eleven months
in coming from Lhasa and who was on his way to Nepal.
His method of progression was by throwing himself at full
length down on the ground. He then got up and at the spot
where his hands touched the ground repeated the motion
again. As we approached Tingri, the valley widened out
and bent round to the South. Tingri itself was situated
on the side of a small hill in the middle of a great plain,
from which, looking to the South, was visible the wonderful
chain of snowy peaks, many of them over 25,000 feet in
height, which extends Westwards from Mount Everest. We
crossed the Ra-chu — a tributary of the Bhong-chu, partly by
bridges and partly by fords ; it was split up into a number
of small and very muddy channels that took their rise from
the Kyetrak Glacier. Tingri was to be our first base for
reconnoitring the Northern and North-western approaches
to Mount PJvcrcst. It was June 19 when we arrived there,
so that it had taken us just a month's travelling from
Darjeeling to perform this part of our journey.

CHAPTER IV

TINGRI AND THE COUNTRY TO THE SOUTH

Tingri is a place of some importance, with a considerable
trade at certain seasons of the year. It is the last place
of any size on this side of the Nepalese frontier and boasts
of a military governor. The garrison, however, when we
visited it, consisted only of a sergeant and four or five
soldiers. There were about three hundred houses in Tingri,
all clustered together on the slopes of a small isolated hill
standing in the middle of the great plain. On the top of
the hill was the old Chinese fort, now all falling into
ruin, but still littered with papers and books, written in
Chinese characters, left behind by the Chinese on their hasty
departure. Inside were quaint mural frescoes of curious old
men riding stags or winged dragons painted in many colours.
All the way up the valley of the Bhong-chu we had seen ruins
of walls and evidences of much fighting. These aU dated
back, we were told, to the time of the Nepalese invasions
of Tibet in the eighteenth century when the Gurkhas pene-
trated so far into Tibet that they actually got to Shigatse,
and the Tibetans had to call upon the Chinese Empire for
help. The Chinese came into the country with a large
army, defeated the Gurkhas, drove them out of Tibet and
crossed the Himalayas with a considerable army into Nepal,
an extraordinary military feat considering the enormous
difficulty of moving an army in these unhospitable regions
over the high mountain passes through which it is approached.
The Chinese, after this, never left Tibet until they were
driven out by the Tibetans only a few years ago. In the hills
round Tingri we came across many evidences of the fighting
which then took place. This probably accounted for the

72 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

large number of ruined and deserted villages that we saw
in the valleys around. At the foot of the hill was a large
Chinese rest-house which was only used to house Tibetan
officials when they came there on duty. The Tibetans
themselves did not like to live in or use the place, as many
Chinese had died there and they thought that their ghosts
haunted the spot. This rest-house was, however, swept
out and prepared for our reception, as we had told the
Tibetans that we should probably stay there for some time
and should want a house to protect us from the wind and
to provide a dark room for developing our photographs.
The rest-house consisted of three courtyards in the outer
one we put the coolies, in the middle one the surveyors,
and the inner one we kept for ourselves. In appearance
the building was quite picturesque with its mural paint-
ings of flying dogs and fierce dragons ; but in spite of
its picturesqueness outside and its handsome appearance, the
rooms inside were small, and when the rain came it poured
through the roof and our beds had to be shifted many times
during the night to avoid the drips of water. It however
provided an excellent dark room for us after we had well
plastered the waUs, the floor and the ceiling with mud and
got rid of the dust of ages. To do any photographic work
in Tibet a house is a necessity, as with the violent wind
that blows every day all one's belongings get covered with
dust which would ruin any negative. At first we found
water a great difficulty as the local water was full of mud,
but we eventually discovered a beautifully clear spring,
about half a mile away, which bubbled up in a deep bluey
green basin, and this water we used always, both for drinking
and for photographic work. Tingri had many advantages
as a base. Stores, supplies and transport were always
available there, as it was the headquarters of the district.
It also provided an easy means of approach to Mount
Everest from the North-west and to the high group of
mountains that lay to the West of Mount Everest. After
sorting out all our stores and equipment and seeing in

TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 73

what state they were after the journey, our next business
was the making of a dark room, as we had taken many
photographs on the journey that required developing. The
weather at this time was very fine, but the Tibetans kept
on teUing us that the rainy season ought to be starting, so
we determined as soon as possible to send out parties in
different directions to make the most of the favourable
opportunity. The first morning after our arrival we were
up on the top of the hill by six o'clock in the hope of getting
a good view to the South, but the clouds were already over
most of the mountains. Everest we could see quite clearly,
and Cho-Uyo, the great 26,800 feet peak that lies to the
West of Mount Everest. The Depon here, who was acting
as the Governor of the place, was a nice young fellow and
very cheery, and later on I got to know him very well and
went over to his house and was entertained by him and
his wife. He told me that the Tibetans still paid tribute
to Nepal for all that part of the country, and that the
amount they had to pay was the equivalent of 5,000 rupees
per annum. The Nepalese kept a head-man at Tingri and
another at Nyenyam to deal with all criminal cases and
offences committed by Nepalese subjects when in Tibet.
I found later on that the Tibetans were very frightened
of the Nepalese, or of having any dealings with a Gurkha.
I took photographs of the Depon's wife and all their children,
and of his mother-in-law, which delighted them immensely ;
the wife at first was very shy of coming forward, but after
many tears and protestations her husband finally induced
her to be photographed. The great semi-circular head-
dresses that the women wear are usually covered with
turquoises, and coral, and often with strings of seed
pearls across them. Round their necks hang long chains
of either turquoise or coral beads, sometimes mixed with
lumps of amber. Suspended round the neck by a shorter
chain is generally a verj^ elaborately decorated charm box,
those belonging to the richer or upper classes being of gold
inlaid with turquoises, the poorer people having them made

74 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

of silver with poorer turquoises. The officials, as a rule,
have a long ear-ring, 4 or 5 inches long, of turquoises and
pearls, suspended from the left ear, while in the right ear
they wear a single turquoise of very good quality. Nearly
every one carries a rosary, with which their hands are playing
about the whole day. We were told that the laws governing
marriage in those parts were strictly regulated. Owing
to the excessive number of males, a form of polyandry
prevails. If there were four brothers in a family, and the
eldest one married a wife, his wife would also be the property
of the three younger brothers ; but if the second or third
brother married, their wives would be common only to
themselves and their youngest brother. In Tibet, when,
owing to the severe climate, digging is impossible for about
six months in the year, if a man dies his body is handed
over to professional corpse butchers, of whom there are
one or two in every village. These butchers cut the body
up into small pieces, which are taken out on to a hill-top
and scattered about for the birds of the air or the wolves
to devour. If by any chance there is a delay in consuming
these remains, this is looked upon as a sign that the man
has led an evil life during his lifetime.

On June 22 WoUaston rejoined us again. He had
escorted Raeburn to Lachen, and had there arranged for
an assistant surgeon to come up and take him back as far
as Gangtok. Wollaston had then come on as fast as possible
to rejoin us. His kit did not arrive till the following day, as
he had ridden in direct from Shekar Dzong. The following
day Bullock and Mallory left us, making direct for Mount
Everest, and intending to reconnoitre the North and North-
western slopes. Looked at from here it is certainly a
very wonderful mountain, as it seems to stand up all by
itself, but from this side it looks far too steep to be climbed.
On June 25 Wheeler and Heron went off to Kyetrak, from
which point Wheeler was to begin his photographic survey.
I had intended to start the following day and join them,
but the acid hypo that I had been using for fixing had given

TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 75

off so many sulphur fumes that I had been quite " gassed "
for several days and had lost my voice in consequence.
Unfortunately my orderly and Wheeler's bearer, who were
both Mahommedans, were taken ill with enteric. Wheeler's
bearer was in a very bad way, and a few days after my
departure he died, but my orderly, after a bad attack,
recovered, and when I returned three weeks later he was
able to be up and to walk about a little. As Wollaston
was likely to be detained here for some time owing to these
cases of sickness, and as Morshead wanted to get in some
surveying all round Tingri, I thought it would be a good
opportunity to visit the different parties that we had sent
out, and also to get, if possible, some information about
Kharta, which I intended should be our second base. The
coolies that we had still with us at Tingri were kept busy
by Wollaston, and daily they would bring in rats, birds,
lizards, beetles, or fish which they had collected for him.
The local people would not make any attempt to collect
these animals, as they said it was against their rehgion. On
June 26 I started out to the South and camped the first
night at Sharto, a small village about 9 miles across the
plain to the South of Tingri. On the way we passed numbers
of bees that seemed to be coming up out of the ground and
swarming. These were all of a very light brown colour.
Sharto is only a small village, but there are no other houses
between it and Kyetrak, so that it was necessary to stop
there. As the wind always blows with great strength here,
the tents were pitched within some sheltering walls. In
every place that we went to now we managed to get some
kind of green food which was turned into spinach ; a small
kind of weed that grows in the barley fields was generally
thus used. At other times we tried turnip leaves, or. again,
when we were higher and above the Hmits of cultivation,
the young shoots of the nettle which grows up to 17,000
feet, and is really very good. I had taken with me this time
a Tibetan whom we had picked up on the way. He was
called Poo, and he turned out to be an excellent cook who

76 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

could make any of the Tibetan dishes. As he was a sensible
fellow, and very seldom drunk, I made a good deal of use
of him. He accompanied me in all my wanderings, and I
could not have found a more useful servant when travelling,
as he never seemed to mind the cold or the height and could
always produce a fire of some kind, even though he had
forgotten to bring any matches. That evening at Sharto
there was a curious false sunset in the East with rays
of light in the deep purple of the sky. All the hills stood
out with wonderful sharpness, and the colours were very
beautiful. Towards nightfall we saw a number of kiang,
which came quite close up to the camp and started feeding
on the barley fields in spite of the pillars of stones and the
strings which are put round the fields to keep both them
and the hares away from the crops. The next morning I
started off early as I intended to climb a hill 17,700 feet,
on the way to Kyetrak. This hill, however, proved further
off than I anticipated, and we had some difficulty in crossing
a glacier stream, so that I did not get up to the top till 9
a.m., by which time the clouds had hidden a great part of
the mountains to the South of us. The view, nevertheless,
was extraordinarily fine. The top of Everest just showed
above a great icy range to the East of us, and South-east
was that great group of mountains of which Cho-Uyo, 26,800
feet, is the highest. Immense granite precipices descended
sheer for several thousand feet until they reached great
winding glaciers, while from over the Khombu Pass long wisps
of cloud came sailing round these peaks and eventually hid
them from our view. To the North the view extended
right up to the watershed of the Brahmaputra, 80 to 100
miles distant. The different colours of the hills, the light
and shade from the clouds, all formed a charming picture.
Once over 17,000 feet, I met my old friend the dwarf blue
poppy {Meconopsis) and many pretty white, blue and yellow
saxifrages that grew on the rocks. Descending from this
hill into the Kyetrak Valley, we passed a number of goa
which were quite tame, but unfortunately they were all

TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 77

females. We had two more big glacial torrents to cross
which later in the afternoon would probably have been
impassable as by that time they would have risen another
2 feet, due to the melting of the snow and the ice by the
hot sun in the morning; indeed, we only just managed to
get across when we did. The main Kyetrak stream comes
from the great glacier that descends from Cho-Uyo and the
Khombu Pass. Opposite the village of Kyetrak it is luckily
divided into a number of small streams, so that it is usually
possible to get across it, though in the afternoons it is always
somewhat difficult.

This village Hes at a height of 16,000 feet, at the foot
of the Khombu or Nangba Pass and the Pusi Pass. The
former is a high glacier-covered pass, about 19,000 feet,
that leads into the Khombu Valley in Nepal. The other,
the Pusi Pass, is a much lower and easier pass that leads
into the Rongshar Valley. Between these two passes lies
a very beautiful glacier-covered peak called Chorabsang.
Here at Kyetrak I met Heron and Wheeler encamped in
the shelter of some walls close to the village, which consisted
of a few dirty stone houses and a big Chorten. The people
told me that they lived here all the year round, and that
they owned the grazing for many miles to the North and
possessed herds of yaks several thousand in number. Traffic
could be kept up over these passes, they said, at all times
of the year, though only with great difficulty, and with
much danger, whole convoys being sometimes wiped out by
blizzards when trying to cross the Khombu Pass, as the
fine powdery snow is blown down into their faces from every
direction and they finally get suffocated by it. That night
there was a sharp frost, and the following morning Heron
and I started to go up towards the Khombu Pass, following
at first the East side of the Kyetrak Glacier. For about
6 or 7 miles we rode beside the great moraine that
extended along the East side of this glacier ; every now and
then we climbed up on to a mound on the edge of the glacier
in order to take photographs of it. The ice was all torn

78 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

and riven into wonderful shapes and opposite us was the
finely crevassed peak of Chorabsang. I pushed on, leaving
Heron to come on at a slower pace, as I was anxious to get
to the top of the pass before the clouds should have come
up and hidden all the views. Every day it cost us a race
to get up to a point of vantage before the clouds should
have come up and hidden everything. Leavmg the pony
behind, with one coolie, I pressed forward for some 4 miles
up a very stony and slippery moraine on the glacier. Here
were many curious ice formations — ice tables with a big
flat rock superimposed, curious upright pillars of ice, and
the main glacier itself was worn by stone and water into the
weirdest shapes and forms. In places, too, we came across
that curious formation which in South America is called
Nieve Penitentes. As we passed onwards, new glaciers
opened up in every vaUej^ The views up some of these
side valleys, which often widened out into great amphi-
theatres, were very grand, especially that of the huge glacier
that swept down from below the rock waUs of Cho-Uyo.

On arriving at the end of the moraine, the boots that
my coolie was wearing came to pieces and he said he could
go no further across the snow, so shouldering the big camera,
I started off alone. At first the ice was firm, but soon I
came to soft snow and much water underneath it : they
made the going very unpleasant and I kept floundering
about up to my knees in snow and water. At length I came
to a large crevasse along the edge of which I followed for
over half a mile as most of the snow bridges across it were
unsafe. At last I found my way across and by climbing on
to some rocks was able to look over the top of the pass and
down into Nepal. The height of the pass seemed to be
about 19,000 feet, and as the day was very hot, I lay down
and went sound asleep, only waking up when it began to
snow. I then started, none too soon, on my homeward
journey : all the way back snow fell heavily. I was very
thankful to meet my coolie again and to hand over the
camera to him : carrying a camera for five or six hours in

TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 79

soft snow at a height of over 18,000 feet is a heavy tax upon
the endurance of anyone unaccustomed to carrying weights.
Wheeler meanwhile had moved up his camp from Kyetrak
to a spot on the moraine East of the glacier and intended
to spend a week or fortnight in that valley.

The next morning Heron and I started to go over the
Pusi Pass (Marmot Pass), so called because of the number
of marmots that frequent the Southern slopes. After
fording the Kyetrak River, we climbed up the moraine to
the West of the Kyetrak Glacier and then turned up some
easy grass hills until we came to the top of the pass, 17,700
feet. Here at the very top were growing some delightful
little dwarf forget-me-nots — not an inch high — also many
white and yellow saxifrages. Most of the views were
unfortunately hidden by clouds, though one fine triple-
headed peak showed up well to the South. We passed
several flocks of female burhel {Ovis nahura), which were
quite tame, and allowed us to ride up to within 50 yards
of them. The hillsides were bare at first and grassy and
the air felt distinctly cold and damp. We now commenced
our long descent, and at 16,000 feet began to meet with
juniper bushes and many dwarf rhododendi^ons. As we
got lower, many more varieties of bushes appeared. There
were two or three kinds of berberis, loniceras, white and pink
spiraeas, and quantities of white roses ; besides these were
masses of primulas and anemones, and pink, white or mauve
geraniums. We now followed the right bank of the Shung-
chu, a great glacial torrent, which joined by several others
became an unfordable stream. The path was well engineered,
sometimes close to the river, and sometimes built out on
rocks high above the stream. All of a sudden the valley
narrowed into a great gorge. We had left all the granites
and slates behind and had suddenly come into the zone
of the gneiss, which extended many miles to the South.
A little way further down, at a place where two other valleys
meet, we caught sight of some green barley fields \ying round
the small village of Tasang where we encamped on a terrace

80 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

for the night. We were now at a height of only 13,300
feet, and were able to get fresh eggs and vegetables again.
It was a great pleasure once more to have wood fires in
place of the yak dung with its acrid smoke, which caused
aU one's food to taste unpleasantly. Here we used as fuel
the aromatic wood of the juniper.

This vaUey is looked upon as a holy one, owing to the
number of juniper bushes that grow in it, and several
hermits and nuns had taken up their abode in it and
shut themselves up in caves in order to meditate. The
nearest village used to supply them with food, and morning
and evening could be seen ascending the blue smoke of the
juniper, which they burnt as incense before the entrances of
their dwelling places. There was a hermit who lived close
to the village and whose cave we could see high up in the
rocks above. The villagers told us that after meditating
for a period of ten years, he would be able to live on
only ten grains of barley a day, and they were looking
forward to that day. There was another anchorite female
who was supposed to have lived here for 138 years and
who was greatly revered. She had forbidden any of the
animals in the valley to be kiUed, and that was the reason
why the flocks of burhel we had passed were so extremely
tame. The next day, giving our transport a rest. Heron
and I walked for 7 or 8 miles down the valley. On the
opposite side of the valley the only trees were birches and
willow, and it was curious that, at these comparatively
low heights, there were no large rhododendrons or fir trees.
On the other side of the valley, the vegetation consisted
wholly of juniper, berberis or wild roses. We descended
to 12,000 feet, most of the time going through narrow gorges.
At one place we came across a number of gooseberry bushes
covered with young gooseberries, of which we gathered a
sufficient supply to last us for several days. The rose bushes
were charming all the way. At first they were all of the
white creamy coloured variety, but lower down we came
on the big red one with flowers often more than 3 inches

TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 81

in diameter. Wherever there were springs of water there
grew masses of anemones and yellow primulas. We now
returned to our camp at Tasang, and rain then started and
continued the remainder of the day. The people told
us that this valley was passable for animals for three days'
journey, after which the river entered into some terrible
gorges down which it was only just possible for a coolie to
get along, and these latter gorges formed the boundary
between Tibet and Nepal. On July 1 we started to return
to Kyetrak ; the morning was misty when we started, and
though the higher peaks were all hidden in the clouds, the
sun shone brightly and the day was quite hot. Our kit
did not arrive till between five and six o'clock, and the yaks
had a great deal of trouble in getting across the Kyetrak
River, as it had risen considerably. Wheeler was still at
his high camp further up the valley, waiting for a really clear
day. The clouds, too, were his great enemies, as they came
up very early every morning from over the Khombu Pass.
From here Heron and I had decided to go on and see
how Mallory and Bullock had been faring in the next valley,
so the next morning, after breakfasting at 5 a.m., we started
off. It was one of the coldest mornings we had had, with
a very hard frost, and being on the shady side of the valley
we did not get the sun till several hours after we had started.
After going down the valley for about 6 miles, we turned
off to the East and crossed several easy passes, the higher
of them, the Lamna La, being 16,900 feet. The country
was very barren of flowers and vegetation, but there was
a certain amount of grazing for yaks and sheep. The march
to Zambu was a fairly long one of 20 miles, but the yaks
came along well. This was a more prosperous-looking
village than most of them, and the houses were all white-
washed. We were still too high for barley fields as we were
just 16,000 feet, but the wealth of the village lay in its herds
of yaks and sheep ; the villagers told us they owned 3,000
yaks. Shepherds in this country are but poorly paid,
getting only thirty trangkas (IO5.) per annum. But house

M.E. G

82 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

servants are still worse off, getting only eight trangk-as
(2^. 8cL) per annum. However, they seem to thrive under
those wages and there is no discontent or trades unionism
among them. Our camp was pitched in a sunny spot not
far from the village, looking straight over towards Mount
Everest, whose top appeared over the opposite hills. From
this side its precipices looked most formidable and there
was also a magnificent ridge which we had not seen before.
There was a slight frost again that night.

Breakfasting, as usual, at 5 a.m., I started up the hill
South of the camp and was lucky enough to get a clear
view of Everest and the Rongbuk Valley that led up to
it. This valley ran right up to the foot of Mount Everest
and seemed an easy enough approach, but the mountain
itself looked absolutely unscalable from this side, showing
nothing but a series of very steep precipices. The day
turned out to be a very hot one. I descended into the
valley below, and started to ride up towards Mount Everest.
Presently I came to an unfordable stream, and after making
several attempts to get across this, found myself compelled
to return several miles down the valley to the monastery
of Chobu, where there was a slender footbridge. The pony
that I was riding was swum across, a rope being attached to
its head. He was then pulled over to the far side, a proceeding
he did not at all enjoy. The yaks, too, were unladen,
and the loads carried by hand over the bridge. After this
the yaks were driven into the river and made to swim across,
but they only went as far as an island in the middle of the
river. From this place they would not budge in spite of
stones, curses and threats, until at length a man with a
sling, fetched from the monastery, hurled stones at them with
great violence : this procedure apparently so stung them
up that they thought it advisable to cross the remainder
of the stream. At the entrance to the valley, we passed
some very tame burhel within a few yards of the path, and
then went along at the foot of some fine cliffs with limestone
on the top and layers of hornblende and granite below. At

TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 83

first there was quite a rich vegetation growing here,
considering we were just on 16,000 feet. There were juniper
bushes, clematis, willows, a genista, rock roses, and even
some yellow primulas, but as we got further into the valley
it became more stony, and on either side of the path were
small piles of stones heaped up by pilgrims. The valley
was considered very sacred and was apparently a great place
of pilgrimage. We found the base camp of the Alpine
climbers pitched close to the Rongbuk Monastery, where
there Uved a very high re-incarnated Lama who was in
meditation and not allowed to see anyone. This valley
was called the Rongbuk, or inner valley — a name well
suited to it ; the legend was that from this valley there used
to be a pass over into the Khombu Valley, but the high
Lama who lived here forbade the use of it, as it disturbed
the meditations of the recluses and hermits, of which there
were several hundred here. At first these good people did
not at all approve of our coming into this valley, as they
thought we should be Ukely to disturb and distract their
meditations.

The Rongbuk Monastery lies at a height of 16,500 feet,
and is an unpleasantly cold spot. This monastery contains
twenty permanent Lamas who always live there, together
with the re-incarnated Lama. Besides these, there are three
hundred other associated Lamas who come in periodically,
remaining there for periods of varying length. These
Associate Lamas are mostly well-to-do, and having sufficient
money to support themselves are not a drain upon the
villagers. They will often invest several thousand trangkas
with some village, and in return for this money the village
will supply them with food, barley, mill^, eggs and fuel.
Higher up the valley there was a smaller monastery, and
dotted along the hillside were numerous cells and caves
where monks or nuns had retired to meditate. Every
animal that we saw in this valley was extraordinarily tame.
In the mornings we watched the burhel coming to some
hermits' cells not a hundred yards away from the camp.

84 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

to be fed, and from there they went on to other cells. They
seemed to have no fear whatever of human beings. On
the way up the valley we passed within 40 to 50 yards of
a fine flock of rams, but they barely moved away, and on
the way back we passed some females that were so inquisitive
that they actually came up to within 10 yards of us in order
to have a look at us. The rock pigeons came and fed out
of one's hand, and the ravens and all the other birds here
were equally tame ; it was most interesting to be able to
watch all their habits and to see them at such close quarters.
On July 4, Heron and I walked up the valley to see Mallory
and Bullock, who had got an Alpine camp some 7 miles
further up the valley at a height of 18,000 feet, where they
were training their coolies in snow and ice work and trying
to find out whether there was any possible way of attacking
Mount Everest from this side. It was a beautiful morning
when we started, and on the way we passed one or two
small monasteries and numerous cells where hermits and
recluses were living in retirement and meditation. After
crossing several small lake beds and old moraines — for the
big Rongbuk Glacier seemed to have been retiring in the
last few years — ^we came to the big moraine-covered Rongbuk
Glacier. This glacier appeared to be about 8 or 9 miles
long, starting immediately below an immense circle of cliffs
which formed the North face of Mount Everest. We found
afterwards that there were several other side glaciers that
joined in it, which were even larger and longer than the
centre glacier. After some steep scrambles up the moraine-
covered glacier and on to a high terrace on the West side of
it, we found Mallory and Bullock with their coolies encamped
in a pleasantly sheltered spot with plenty of water close
at hand and commanding the most magnificent views of
Mount Everest, which here seemed to be only about 6 miles
away and towered up above the glacier, showing immense
cliifs 10,000 feet high. Mallory and Bullock were hard at
work training the coolies in snow and ice work and exploring
all the different glaciers from that side. They were, however,

TINGRI AND COUNTRY TO SOUTH 85

much handicapped by there only being two of them, which
made the work more strenuous. After spending the day
with them. Heron and I returned to our camp in the evening.
The evening hght on Mount Everest was wonderfully beautiful.
The weather seems nearly always to clear up about sunset,
and its summit then usually towers far above the clouds
in a clear sky. At dusk several of the Lamas came for
medicines of different kinds, which we gave them, and much
to our surprise in the morning they presented us with a
number of fresh eggs in gratitude. Having seen Mallory
and Bullock well established in this valley, our next most
important duty seemed to be to select a site for our next
base camp. Some place on the East side of Mount Everest
would have to be chosen, and it seemed that somewhere
in the Kharta Valley would be the most likely spot. Heron
and I therefore determined that we would make a quick
reconnaissance of that district before returning to Tingri.
On the following day we moved down from the Rongbuk
Monastery.

CHAPTER V

THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA

After leaving INIallory and Bullock to continue the search
for a possible route up Mount Everest from the Rongbuk
side, Heron and I, on July 5, started off down the Rongbuk
Valley in order to visit Kliarta. We had been told that it
was only two days' easy march from the monastery to get
there. It was a cold morning when we started off ; there
had been a sharp frost during the night and the sun did
not reach us till late in the morning. Mount Everest stood
out at the head of the valley wonderfully clear and clothed
with a fresh mantle of white. Instead of crossing over the
river by the bridge, at Chobu, we kept straight on down
the valley till we came to Chodzong, where were the first
barley fields and cultivation. There was plenty of water
here for irrigation purposes, and some fine grassy fields
on which many ponies were grazing. We had to change
our transport in this village and get fresh animals, so that
it was not till three o'clock in the afternoon that we got
started again. In Tibet they have a system of stages, and
animals from one village are taken, as a rule, for one stage
only. As each stage usually ends at the next village, and as
villages are frequent, this is a most awkward and inconvenient
arrangement — as it necessitates three or four changes a
day. In order to avoid these constant changes, we used to
persuade the villagers by promises of extra baksheesh,
especially where we had a large number of animals, to
undertake two or three stages. After leaving Chodzong
we climbed up over a steep pass 1,200 feet above the valley
and found a still deeper descent to the village of Halung,
which lay at our feet. Here we waited for our transport,

THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 87

but as this did not arrive till dark, we decided to camp
there, though we had only done 18 miles from Rongbuk ;
the yak travels very slowly. We were now again at 14,800
feet and found a much warmer climate, with green barley
fields and here and there patches of yellow mustard. A
large rhubarb with a curious crinkled leaf grew here and
there in the fields. We tried to eat this rhubarb ; it
had an unpleasant taste, but this disappeared when it
was cooked and it proved a welcome addition to our diet.
The Tibetans do not use it for food, as sugar — without
which it would be uneatable — is scarce and expensive in
the country. The plant serves, however, as an acid for
dyes.

Halung is a very prosperous-looking village with well-
built houses. The villagers soon had three tents pitched
for us on a grassy field between the village and the river ;
cushions, cooking pots and fuel were also brought out for us.
Here we camped for the night in reasonable comfort. On
the following morning the loads were all carried by hand
across a fragile bridge over the glacier stream, while the
yaks and the ponies were driven across it. We then rode
for a mile down the green and well-watered valley, and
afterwards turned up into another valley where every flat
space was green with barley-fields intermixed with brilliant
patches of yellow from the fields of mustard. A small
glacier stream fed this valley and supplied plenty of water
for irrigation. After passing several small villages we rode
across a spur also covered with barley-fields to Rebu, where
we had to change our transport. This was quite a picturesque
village situated on a rocky knoll, part of the village being
on one side and part on the other of the river. Along the
various irrigation canals were wild flowers of all kinds.
Monkshood grew there, also black and yellow clematis,
rhubarb, ranunculus and primulas of different kinds. By
ten o'clock our transport was changed and we were given
ponies instead of yaks : they travel much quicker and we
had apparently a long way to go yet before we could reach

88 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

the next village. We were expecting all the time to get to
Kharta that evening, but where distances are concerned
all Tibetans are liars, and after doing 26 miles we stopped,
Kharta being apparently as far off as ever. After leaving
Rebu the path led for some miles up an uninteresting vaUey,
in which hmestone cliffs on one side and sandstone cliffs
on the other came down almost to the stream, the waters
of which, in contrast to the muddy glacier streams that
we had been meeting the whole time, were as clear as crystal.
There were many smaU birds along the banks, all of them
wonderfully tame ; these, when we were resting for lunch,
hopped all round us and under our legs, carrying off crumbs
or any morsels of food. We now climbed up on to a pass
called the Doya La, 17,000 feet, from the top of which were
fine views of great rocky peaks on either side, those on the
South being covered in parts with hanging glaciers. About
a quarter of a mile from the top of the pass we struck some
granite soil on which grew an extraordinary variety of
Alpine flowers ; the blue poppy abounded, pink, yellow
and white saxifrages covered all the rocks, and besides these
were many other plants which I had not seen before and
which were quite new to me. The range which we now
crossed acts as a barrier against the approach of the Monsoon
clouds and prevents them from passing over into Tibet.
Over on the North side the country is mostly dry and very
little grows there, whereas on the South there is a rich and
varied vegetation and the air feels soft and moist. The
road from the pass led by an easy descent into a fine valley
with a green lake lying at its head under the dark cliffs
of some bold rocky peaks. We followed this valley for
many miles, a strong head wind blowing against us the whole
of the time, and found ourselves before long once more
among the junipers and willows. We also saw pink and
white rhododendrons, and in places a small yellow one
with waxy blossoms. The yellow rock cistus, spirseas, roses,
yellow primulas, blue monkshood, campanulas, blue anemones,
and hundreds of other wild flowers formed a rich flora which

THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 89

showed that a considerable precipitation from the Monsoon
fell in this valley.

At last we carne to a village, but every one fled at our
approach, and we could get no information about the route.
A little further on we came across more villages, in one
of which, with much difficulty and after a long chase, we
captured a man and made him guide us to the village of
Chulungphu, where we decided to stop the night. After
a little time we induced some of the villagers to come out
from their hiding-places, and to produce tents and fuel for
us. The camp was pitched in a field of sweet-scented primulas
near the village. The architecture of these houses was quite
different from what we had met before — they all appear
to be strongly fortified, as they have practically no windows
and there are only small loopholes facing outwards. They
are all built of a brown stone— a kind of gneiss, and have
sods on the parapet over which are laid branches of juniper.
The next morning we woke to the sound of pattering rain
and found all the hills wreathed in grey mist. This was
their first rain this year, so the inhabitants told us. It was
pleasant to one's skin after the dry climate and biting winds
that we had been experiencing on the other side of the
passes to feel oneself wrapped in a softer and milder air.
We rode down this valley for about 6 miles until it debouched
into the main Arun Valley. The people, however, do not
know it by this name here, but call it still the Bhong-chu
until it reaches Nepal. We passed villages all the way,
villages brown in colour and built of a brown gneiss,
around which grew fields of barley and mustard. After
the barren valleys which we had left, these appeared very
fertile ; rose and currant bushes surrounded every field,
while the hillsides were covered with juniper and willows.
Along the path grew spiraeas and clematis, while beside
every watercourse were yellow marsh marigolds and primulas.
A feature of the Arun Valley, which was faMy wide here,
was the old terraces on its slopes, now all covered with
barley, pea and mustard fields, the latter being a blaze of

90 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

yellow. There were many villages here and some pleasant
country houses surrounded by groves of willows and poplars.
Down here the people were not quite so frightened of us
as they were in the valley from which we had just come,
where they had run away from us whenever we approached.
The Bong-chu here is a large river with a very great flow
of water, and quite unfordable. The nearest place where
it could be crossed is at a rope bridge some 18 miles higher
up, and during the rainy season this bridge is impassable,
and communication with the other side completely cut
off. To the South and close by, at a height of 12,000 feet,
the Bhong-chu enters a terrific gorge on either side of which
tower up great cliffs with snowy peaks high above them.
On some of the slopes which are not quite so steep there
are thick forests of fir trees and rhododendrons where, I
was told, the muskdeer lived. After descending the valley
for 3 miles, we turned up a side valley pointing Westwards.
Down this flowed a very large and unfordable glacial stream.
This evidently came down from the neighbourhood of
Mount Everest, but local information as to its source was
very vague, and it was evident that we should have to
prospect for ourselves. Some 3 miles up this valley we came
to a place called by the natives Kharta Shika, where the
Governor of the Kharta District resides. Kharta was not
apparently a village at all, but a district including a number
of small villages. We halted a short distance below Kharta
Shika and presently the Governor came out to meet us with
a present of sweetmeats and the usual scarf. He apologised
for not meeting us before, as he said that he had no informa-
tion as to the date of our arrival. He begged that we would
come over to his garden where he had ordered a fine Chinese
tent to be pitched for us. We crossed the river by a wooden
l^ridge, and after going through the village came to the
Governor's house. Crossing through the courtyard we
entered his garden, wliich lay in a nice sheltered spot
surrounded by willow trees with a stream of clear water
running through it. Big wUd roses grew there and a few

THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 91

European flowers that he had planted, while under a very
ancient poplar there was a large painted prayer wheel, some 8
feet high, which was turned by a stream of water. Here in his
garden he provided us with a meal of excellent macaroni
and a very hot chilli salad. It was very pleasant to rest
the eyes on the luscious green of the well irrigated garden,
and to be for once sheltered from the wind. During the
night we were awakened by a regular shower bath. The
Chinese tent, beautiful as it was in outward appearance,
was sadly lacking in waterproof qualities. As it rained
steadily most of the night, we had to take cover under our
mackintoshes on which were pools of water in the morning.
There seemed to be no doubt that the proper Monsoon had
at last broken, and the Jongpen himself told us that this
was the first really heavy rain that they had had. All the
people considered that we had brought this rain with us
and were very grateful in consequence ; later on, when we
left, they begged us not to stop the rain, as they wanted
it badly for their crops.

As it cleared up a little about nine o'clock in the morning,
though the hills were still all in cloud, we rode out with
Chheten Wangdi, the Jongpen and Hopaphema, who was
the largest landowner about here, to look out for a site
for our next base camp. We wanted, if possible, to get a
house that could be used as a store-room and also for photo-
graphic purposes. We rode down into the main valley,
and after looking over several houses, we eventually selected
one on an old river terrace with fine views all around and
standing quite by itself well away from any village. The
water supply was good and handy, and there was a pleasant
garden of poplars and willows, in which we could pitch our
tents. After a certain amount of bargaining, the owners
were willing to let us have the house and the garden for the
large rent of one trangka (S^d.) a day. It was apparently
the first time anyone in that valley had ever wanted to
rent a house, and there were no house agents there to run one
up into exorbitant prices. We then rode on to Hopaphema' s

92 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

house, which was a fine soHdly built dweUing surrounded
by large juniper trees, willows and poplars. Later on we
got to know this man very well, and used to call him always
the " Sergeant," as he was supposed to do any recruiting
for the Tibetan army that was needed in that vaUey. He
had a very kmdly disposition, was always very hospitable,
and had a great sense of humour. He had a tent pitched
for our reception under a very old poplar with a grass plot
in front surrounded by bushes of wild red roses. Here we
were given tea, milk and beer, and then the usual macaroni
and mince was produced. On leaving, he insisted on my
taking away a large quantity of turnip leaves, as he knew
I was very fond of green food, and they made an excellent
" spinach." The Tibetans that we met have invariably
proved very kindly and hospitable.

On returning to Kharta, where I had left Heron, I found
that it had been raining aU the time, though in the main
valley we had had it quite fine. In the evening I took a
walk up to an old fort not far from our camp. This fort
in old days had commanded the only path from here that
led into Nepal, but now it had all fallen into ruin. Close
by it, however, was a delightful dell full of hoary wiUow
trees, underneath which the ground was carpeted with
yeUow primulas growing among the bushes of scarlet roses.
Near by were two old poplar trees, whose trunks measured
between 20 and 30 feet in circumference and were evidently
of a very great age. The primulas everywhere were really
astonishing. They outlined every watercourse with yellow
and often grew between 2 and 3 feet high with enormous
heads of sweet cowslip-scented yellow flowers. It rained
again during the whole of the night, and the fine spray
that came through the Chinese tent made sleep rather
difficult. The next morning we started to go back to Tingri,
and for the first day's march were given coolies for our
transport. In this district coolies are used a great deal
as all the trade with Nepal has to be carried on by them,
the paths over the passes being quite impassable for pack

THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 93

transport; the Jongpen told us that we would find them
quite as fast as ponies.

To-day's march was to Lumeh — a distance of about
17 miles — and the coolies arrived very soon after we did,
having come along extraordinarily well. Our route for the
first 3 miles was down the Kharta Valley until it joined
the valley of the Bhong-chu ; we then followed the right bank
of this for some 10 miles. On the way we stopped at the
house of Hopaphema, who insisted on giving us a meal
of milk, macaroni and mince, although it was only just
over an hour since we had had breakfast. On our departure
he gave us a basket of eggs and some more turnip leaves
to take along with us, and altogether showed himself a
most friendly and hospitable host. At first we rode through
fields of barley, peas and mustard for several miles, the valley
then became much more barren and the path occasionally
was taken high up on the face of a cHff, where the river
swept round close beneath the mountain side. At other
times we crossed broad stony terraces. We came eventually
to the village of Dak, where the monks from the monastery
had pitched tents for us and had another meal provided
for us. Coolies had to be changed here, our old coolies
arriving while we were having our meal ; after the loads
had been transferred, our new transport proceeded along to
Lumeh, where we intended to spend the night. The path
after Dak was in places dangerous owing to faUing stones,
and our guide every now and then urged us to hurry, as
owing to the heavy rain of the preceding night many stones
had been loosened. The main Bhong-chu suddenly turned
off to the East from here, unexpectedly forcing a passage
through a very curious and deep gorge, where it bm'st its
way through the highest mountains. We did not, however,
follow the valley of the Bhong-chu, but kept on up what
appeared to be the main valley ; this was really only the
valley of the Lower Rongbuk that in its lower portion is
called the Dzakar-chu. This river we crossed by a wooden
bridge, built on the cantilever principle, and which a couple

94 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

of months later was washed away. After riding for a couple
of miles over a nice grassy turi we came to Lumeh. Here
was a very fine country house around which were grouped a
few smaller houses. This was the residence of Ngawangyonten,
who was managing the district for the big monastery at
Sliekar Dzong, whose property it was. He had tents akeady
pitched for us, and fuel, milk and eggs already prepared.
Around this house were five of the largest poplar trees that
I have ever seen. The largest was almost 40 feet in circum-
ference at the base, and the others were all between 20
and 25 feet in circumference. The villagers told us that
they thought these trees had been planted about 500 years
ago. Magpies and hoopoes were very common in this
valley — the former were quite tame and allowed us to
aj)proach very close. The barley-fields seemed to hold many
hares. Some fine crops of wheat as well as barley were
grown here, although the height was 12,800 feet. Every
night now we had heavy rain which brought fresh snow
down to 16,000 feet. As the clouds remained low all day
we seldom got any distant views.

The march to Pulme, our next point up the valley of
the Dzakar-chu, was 22 miles, a very dull and uninterestmg
ride. The going was bad — we often had to follow the bed
of the river, which was now in flood and extended to the
cliffs on both sides — at other times we kept high up on
the steep sides of a gorge, sometimes of gneiss, sometimes
of limestone rock. In places where the valley widened
out, the river bed was full of bushes of tamarisk and sea
buckthorn, but otherwise the vegetation was scanty. After
going 15 miles we were to change coolies ; but the Lumeh
coolies, who were extremely poor and very different from
those that we had taken from Kharta, took eleven hours
to cover the 15 miles, and did not arrive till six in the evening.
Much to Heron's disgust, I proposed to push on to Pulme,
late as it was ; but the road was good, and we trotted the
7 miles in an hour and a half, though the coolies and the
donkeys did not arrive till well after dark. Fortunately we

THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 95

found tents as usual pitched for our reception. We had
originally intended to ford the Dzakar-cliu that evening
and camp on the far side, but it was too dangerous to do it
in the dark, though the villagers told us that by morning
the stream would be a couple of feet higher. The river is
a great obstacle at this time of the year, as there is no bridge
over it here, the next bridge being at Chobu, 20 miles higher
up the valley.

The following day I started on my return journey to
Tingri, leaving at 5.30 in the morning with Chheten Wangdi.
I succeeded in fording the Dzakar-chu, which was deep and
very swift. My pony was swept off his legs once and I got
very wet, the icy cold water coming right over the saddle.

Heron and the coolies were to follow on slowly and
were to take two days in reaching Tingri, but I was anxious
to get back, having been away already longer than I intended.
Four miles away, at Tashi Dzom, I changed ponies and
procured a guide who was to take me on to Tingri, leaving
Chheten Wangdi behind with Heron. This guide proved
quite an amusing fellow, and suddenly surprised me by
counting in English one, two, three, four, and then saying
" Right turn " and " Left turn," and other military words
of command. On inquiring where he had learned this
English, I found that at one time he had served as a soldier
at Lhasa, where the military words of command are in
English, and these were the only Enghsh words that he
knew. After leaving Tashi Dzom we turned up into a broad
side valley with villages every half-mile and surrounded
by barley, mustard and pea fields. What was, however,
especially noticeable about all these valleys that we had
been passing through for the last two days, was the extra-
ordinary number of ruined villages that there were everjrwhere.
This was not due to lack of water, for there was plenty of
water m all the streams ; these valleys, however, must have
at one time been very thickly inhabited, and it is probable
that the dearth of population to-day is due to the wars
with the Gurkhas in the eighteenth century. We had a very

96 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

wet ride — one storm after another overtook us, and a cold
rain fell heavily all the way to Tingri. We gradually ascended
out of the cultivation and crossing a low pass, about 16,000
feet, looked down again on the great Tingri Plain. There
was still, however, a long way to go, and it was not till
after five o'clock in the evening that I reached Tingri,
drenched to the skin. It had been a ride of between 36 and
40 miles.

At Tingri I found WoUaston and Morshead. The former
had been very busy all the time I had been away in collecting
insects, butterflies, rats, mice, birds and flowers, and had
amassed quite a number of specimens. Morshead had been
out a good deal with his surveyors to the North and to
the West, but had been driven in by the bad weather of
the last few days. This had apparently been general and
we might say that the rainy season this year had begun
on July 7, wliich the Tibetans considered very late for
those parts. The following afternoon Heron arrived, and
my kit also, which I was very glad to get, as I had only
had a spare tent to roU around me the previous night.

The next day or two was spent mostly in reading letters
and newspapers. Our postal arrangements were at first
rather complicated, there being no regular postal service to
the provinces in Tibet. We had, therefore, to make an
arrangement with each Jongpen to forward on our mail.
Phari was the last post office, and the postmaster there
had to arrange with the Phari Jongpen for a messenger
every week to go with our posts to Khamba Dzong ; we
had left money with him for the purpose of paying the
postman. At Khamba Dzong we had arranged with the
Jongpen there that he should forward our letters to Tinki,
and at Tinki we had made further arrangements for them
to be sent on to Shekar Dzong and from Shekar Dzong they
were to be sent to Tingri. We had left money for this
purpose with the various Jongpens, and each Jongpen as
he received the mail bag was to affix his seal on it and send
it on as quickly as he could to the next Jongpen. This

THE SEARCH FOR KHARTA 97

system worked very well for the first two months, but after
we had moved to Kharta, partly owing to floods, and partly
perhaps to the laziness of the Shekar Jongpen, our mails
were all held up and we eventually had to send coolies back
from our camp to Phari to bring them along. The best
plan another time would be to take with the Expedition a
certain number of coolies to be used purely for going backwards
and forwards with the mails. On July 13 Morshead and
WoUaston left to go to Nyenyam in response to a cordial
invitation from the Jongpen, asking that some of the
Expedition should visit the place. We were glad to accept,
and this should be a very interesting part of the country
botanically.

M.E. H

CHAPTER VI
THE MOVE TO KHARTA

I had arrived back at Tingri on July 11, and remained
there in the Chinese rest-house until July 24, when I started
to move the base camp and all the stores round to Kharta.
During the time I was not left always alone, for Heron came
in occasionally for a night between his various geological
expeditions to the North. Wheeler also came down for
a change and a rest, and to develop the photographs that
he had taken. He had been having a very trying and
provoking time in the high camps, as the weather had been
bad, with frequent snowfalls. Nearly every day he climbed
up to a spur 20,000 feet or more in height, yet in spite of
waiting all day there in the icy cold winds or driving snow,
it was but seldom that he Vv'as able to get a photograph,
and then the clouds would only lift for a few minutes.

There was always plenty to do at Tingri, so the time
passed quickly. Much photographic work had to be done
and much developing and printing of the many photographs
that were being sent in by the various members of the party.
Supplies had also to be sent out and arrangements made
for the comforts of the climbing party in the Kongbuk Valley.
There were also several expeditions to be made round Tingri,
and these were full of interest. Anemometers were very
popular in this district ; they were fixed by the Tibetans
above small prayer wheels, and owing to the constant winds,
it was seldom that the prayer wheels were not revolving.
Many yaks' horns, carved all over with prayers, were lying
about on the different Chortens or Mani walls. The barley,
which was only just coming up when we arrived, was now
18 inches high and coming into ear, and though we were

THE MOVE TO KHARTA 99

over 14,000 feet, the crops looked very healthy and even.
Every evening during this period we had heavy storms of
rain with much lightning and thunder, and fresh snow used
to fall during the night as low as 15,000 feet, but most of it
melted again during the day. During this period the plains
round Tingri were rapidly becoming marshes and the rivers
quite unfordable. The storms always gathered to the North
of us, along the Sipri limestone ridge, and the high mountain
chain that formed the watershed between the Brahmaputra
and the Bhong-chu. These storms generally worked down
towards the South. Occasionally fine days came to us
when there was a strong South wind to blow the rain back,
and it was seldom that the Monsoon clouds brought rain
directly to us from the South. The Sipri range was a very
conspicuous limestone range to the North of us, the limestone
being worn into the most curious shapes. It was looked
upon by the Tibetans as being a holy mountain, and on its
slopes were many small monasteries. Hermits also took
up their abode in the limestone caves below the summit.
Pilgrims used to come from great distances to make the
circuit of the mountain. This took generally five days,
and much merit was acquired by doing so.

On July 17 I made an excursion out to the Hot Springs
at Tsamda, about 7 miles away to the North-west across
the plain. The valley of the Bhong-chu narrows there for
a few miles before opening out again into the wide Sutso
Plain. There were two or three hot springs here, but only
one large one, and this was enclosed by walls within which
were little stone huts in which people could change their
clothes. The water was just the right temperature for a
nice hot bath. When I went there, there was one man
bathing and also washing his clothes in it. The Tibetans
said, however, that this was not the proper season for bathing.
The autumn was the correct time for them to have their
annual bath before the winter sets in. The water was saline
and had, I think, a little iron in it, but was not very
unpleasant to the taste. The rocks from which it gushes

100 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

out are very extraordinary, the strata forming a very steep
arch, on the top of which there is a crack, from the very
end of which, and at its lowest point, the springs came
bubbling out. Near by in the valley there were also a good
many saline deposits. In one of the smaller springs there
were a number of Uttle pink worm-hke animals that were
swimming about and clinging with their mouths to the
sides of the rock. Riding back to Tingri by a different way
across the plain, I saw a number of kiang and a few goa,
but they were very wild and would not aUow us to approach
to within 500 yards. I also passed three of the handsome
black-necked cranes. The way across the plain was rather
boggy, and we had some difficulty in finding it. When
I got back I found that Heron had come in for a couple of
nights, and the following day Wheeler too joined us, having
walked in from Nezogu, the bridge over the Kyetrak River.
He was anxious to develop some photographs, and as the
weather was very bad, he could do no good by remaining
in his high camp.

On July 20 we had very brilHant flashes of Hghtning,
followed by a heavy storm of rain during the night. This
was too much for the flat earth roof of the rest-house, and
the water poured into all our rooms, causiag us to move
our beds many times during the night in search of a dry
spot. I started ofl early in the morning as I had intended
to climb the hills to the East of Tingri, but the rain that
had fallen at Tingri had meant a heavy fall of snow on the
mountains and the snow had fallen as low down as 15,000
feet. We passed several goa on the way, but they were too
shy to allow us to get a shot, also some kiang, which were
very tame, and showed up well in the snow. As we got
higher, the snow became about 4 inches deep, but was
melting rapidly. The glare and the heat were intense. I
saw a good many flocks of burhel, but no very large heads.
The views as I followed the crests of the hills were extremely
fine ; on the North I looked down into the valley of the
Bhong-chu, which was in flood and had filled the whole of

THE MOVE TO KHARTA 101

the bottom of the valley with water, and on the other side
I looked over the Tingri Plain to the great range of snow
peaks which finally ended in the mighty mass of Gosainthan.
The weather had been very hot and oppressive all day,
and as usual in the evening we had another very severe
thunderstorm with heavy rain all through the night. The
following day was more like an English November day^-
cold and grey with drizzling rain — and with the snow on
the hills down to 15,000 feet. I bought a Tibetan pony
during the morning for the large sum of £7. It was a bay,
an excellent ambler, and very surefooted. The Tibetan
name by which he was known was Dug-dra-kyang-po, which
means " The bay pony like a dragon."

I went over to have lunch with the Depon's representa-
tive. His family were all dressed up very smartly for the
occasion, the women folk wearing their best head-dresses
of turquoises, coral and pearls. He gave us rice and raisins
as a hors cfceuvre, and an entree of junket, followed by some
pickled turnips, which I thought very nasty, after which
we had the usual macaroni and mince. He had been very
friendly and kindly to us the whole time that we were at
Tingri, and had always supplied us with everything we asked
for. On July 22 we saw a very fine solar halo with well-
marked rings of yellow, brown, green and white, but the
rain continued steadily nearly all the time. The day before
we were to leave Tingri I sent away my orderly, together
with two coohes who had been sick, and whom the doctor
had recommended that we should send back to Darjeeling.
They were given sufficient food to take them back to
Darjeeling and an extra fifteen days' pay, the orderly also
being given a horse to ride. Towards evening the weather
improved and we had some lovely views of Mount Everest
and that great group of snow peaks of which Cho-Uyo is
the highest. They all looked very white under their new
coating of snow, which lies thickly down to 16,000 feet.

On July 24 we eventually got off from Tingri ; the last
few days had been spent in packing up and re-arranging

102 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

aU the stores. There was the usual talking, shouting and
arguing, but aU the loads were eventually packed on to
the animals, or loaded on to the backs of the coolies by
nine o'clock. We then took a last farewell of the Depon's
representative, who was very sorry to see us go, and who
had done so much to make our stay pleasant there.

The first march was to Nezogu, where there was a bridge
over the Kyetrak; this was about 19 miles, partly across
the Tingri Plain and then over a tiresome moraine. While
crossing the moraine, I shot a goa which had quite a good
head. Wheeler had accompanied me, as he had left his
camp at the bridge, and on arrival there we found his
tents all pitched and his cook waiting ready to receive us.
Our own kit did not arrive till it was getting dark, when
the weather looked very ominous. Rain fell steadily most
of the night, and just before dawn this turned to snow,
so that when we woke up there were a couple of inches of
fresh snow on the ground. As it was still snowing steadily,
we were in no great hurry to start, and did not get off until
nine o'clock. The weather than gradually improved and
the fresh snow soon melted, though the ground was left
in a very boggy condition. The march to Chobu was about
15 miles over the easy Lamna Pass. Knowing the way, I
chmbed on to a ridge to the South, where I had a fine view
again of Mount Everest and the Rongbuk Valley. We
pitclied our camp on the far side of the Rongbuk River,
our loads being carried across the frail bridge by the villagers,
and our ponies being swum across. Here Mallory and
Bullock joined us. They had been experiencing latterly
very bad weather in the Upper Rongbuk Valley, and
constant heavy faUs of snow had seriously hindered their
reconnaissance work. Their coolies, too, were getting
rather tired and stale from remaining at such heights for
a considerable time, and were badly in want of a rest. I
had therefore arranged for them to meet me here and to
accompany me round to Kharta, from which place they
could then explore the Eastern approaches of Mount Everest.

THE MOVE TO KHARTA 103

During the night I suffered much from inflammation of the
eyes, due to the snow that had fallen the day before. They
were so painful as to make sleep quite impossible. I was
not, however, the only one to suffer, as Chheten Wangdi,
the interpreter, Acchu, the cook, and several of the coolies
that were with me were all suffering from the same com-
plaint in the morning. Though the sun had not been
shining and the day had been misty, the glare from the
new snow had been very much more powerful than anything
we had expected and taught us a lesson that whenever
there was the slightest fall of snow, we should always wear
our snow goggles. From Chobu we marched to Rebu —
a distance of about 15 miles. Knowing the way, I took
Mallory and Bullock by the upper road over a pass to
Halung ; from the top of this pass we branched off on to
a spur where there was a very fine view of Mount Everest
and the mountains to the North and North-east of it.
There had been so much fresh snow everywhere that it
was often very difficult to recognize the peaks, but Mount
Everest from this side looked as impossible as ever with
the great black bands of perpendicular cliffs that seemed
to encircle it.

The day was actually fine and the march was a pleasant
one through a fertile valley full of fields of barley, mustard
and peas. The wild flowers all round Rebu were still very
beautiful. Our camp was pitched on a grassy spot on the
bank of a rushing stream and close to the village of Rebu.

The following morning the weather was again fine, and as
the yaks were all ready for us, we were started by 7.30 a.m.
This start was quite amusing ; we ourselves had first to cross
a flooded stream over which there was a very wobbly
stone bridge. With much excitement and noise the yaks
were then driven across the stream, but the current was
too strong for the bullocks, which had to be unloaded
and their loads carried over. While this was being done,
the bridge collapsed, and a good lady and a bullock that
were trying to get over by the bridge all fell into the

104 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

water together. There was then a terrible excitement and
mix-up, every one shouting and screaming, but they both
scrambled safely to the shore, and beyond a wetting, no
one was any the worse. We then took the road that I had
travelled three weeks before over the Doya La. Knowing
that there was a good view to be got from the top of the
pass, I hurried ahead and climbed a rocky hiU, 17,700 feet,
close to the pass, where I saw a wonderful scene. Range
upon range of snowy mountains extended right away to
Kanchenjunga, and the course of the Arun could be traced
wandering down through Nepal, while to the South towered
up the great walls of Makalu. Mount Everest itself I could
not see, as there were a good many clouds about, but to the
South-west were some fine snow and rock peaks of which
I took several photographs. I then basked in the sun for
a couple of hours and enjoyed the view. The wild flowers
on the top of the pass were delightful ; I found three different
kinds of gentians and the blue poppies were as numerous as
ever. The primulas, however, had many of them already
gone to seed, but the saxifrages still covered the rocks,
and it was a delight to wander along and note the different
varieties. Riding on to Chulungphu, we found tents pitched
for us and fuel and milk all ready. In place of the primulas
the ground was now carpeted with gentians. From here
to Kharta the march was only a short one, but we thoroughly
enjoyed riding along between the bushes of wild rose or
juniper. The former were no longer in blossom, but there
were many other new varieties of flowers appearing. I
rode on ahead to the spot that I had chosen, three weeks
previously, for our new base camp, and I found that Hopa-
phema had already pitched some tents for us. He had also
prepared a meal for us and made every arrangement for
our comfort. Our camp was pitched under the willows
and poplar trees in the garden, and it was pleasant to hear
the rustle of the leaves in the wind once more. We were
now at a height of only 12,300 feet, and the change in
altitude was a very great reUef to the climbing party and

THE MOVE TO KHARTA 105

the coolies who had come down from the high camps.
There were also plenty of green vegetables to be got here,
and the coolies appreciated the change enormously. Just
below us flowed the Arun, now a majestic river over a
hundred yards wide. A mile lower down in its course it
entered into the great gorges in which within a space of
20 miles it dropped from 12,000 feet to 7,500 feet, a drop
of over 200 feet in the mile. From our camp we used to
watch the Monsoon clouds come up every day through the
gorge in thin wisps, but every day they melted away always
at the same spot ; and though rain fell heavily a mile below
us, yet with us the sun shone brightly, and it was rare for
any rain to reach us. Twenty miles away to the North
again were heavy clouds and storms, and rain fell there
daily, so that we seemed to be hving in a dry zone between
the two storm systems. The forests of fir and birch trees
came up to the limit of the rainfall and then ceased suddenly
where the rain stopped a mile below us. At this point the
Kharta River formed a sharp dividing fine between the wet
and dry zones.

The next day was spent in settling down, arranging all
our stores and making a new dark room in the house we
had rented. The climate here was delicious and a great
change from Tingri. The temperature in my tent used to
go up to 75° Fahr. during the day.

The day after we arrived the Jongpen came down to
pay an official call and brought a welcome present of a
hundred eggs and five animals laden with fuel. He apolo-
gised for not coming the day before, but said he had been
very busy trying a murder case where eighteen people
had been poisoned by a family that had a feud with them,
the poison used being aconite, with which they were evidently
quite familiar. He told us that our coolies could collect
fuel anj^where on the right bank of the Kharta River, but
begged that we would not collect it anywhere near where
we were Hving, as the villagers would object.

On July 30 I started off to explore a neighbouring pass

106 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

and valley which looked interesting. Mallory and Bullock
were having a few days' rest before starting off again, and
so they remained in camp. Riding a few miles up the Kharta
Valley, I crossed the river by a bridge at the first village,
and then had a very steep and stony climb of nearly 3,000
feet to the Samchung Pass, 15,000 feet. As we approached
the pass, and entered a moister climate, the vegetation
increased rapidly. On these slopes there were rhododen-
drons 5 feet high, mountain ash, birch, willows, spiraeas
and juniper. At the top of the pass there was not much of
a view, but prowling round I came across some very fine
saussurseas with their great white woolly heads and a
wonderful meconopsis of a deep claret colour that I had never
seen before. There were fifteen to twenty flowers on each
stem, and it grew from 2 to 3 feet high. Eight varieties
of gentians also grew in the same valley, and a quantity of
other attractive Alpine plants. From the pass we descended
about 500 feet into a delightful high level glen full of small
lakes, evidently once upon a time formed by glaciers which
must have filled the whole of the valley. I counted fourteen
lakes in this valley, two or three of them being nearly half
a mile long, and all of them of different colours varying
from a turquoise blue to green and black. For some miles
we rode and walked up the valley. The road consisted of
big loose stones, often with water flowing underneath them,
and usually with big holes in between, so that our ponies
were lucky in not breaking their legs. There was then
a steep climb which brought us on to a second pass, the
Chog La, 16,100 feet, close to which were three small glaciers.
Across the top of the pass there was a wall built many years
ago as a second line of defence against the Gurkhas, the
first line being on the top of the Popti Pass. Unfortunately
the clouds now came up, and it began to rain, so that we
had no view into the Kama Valley, though later on I was
to make the acquaintance of this most charming valley.
For an hour and a half I sheltered behind the wall, but
as the clouds did not lift I returned towards Kharta.

THE MOVE TO KHARTA 107

As we descended into the valley again the glimpses of the
lakes seen between the mists reminded me much of the
upper lakes at Killarney. There were the same ferns,
willows, birch and rhododendrons, and much the same
moist atmosphere.

Next day, with Bullock, I went to pay an official visit
to the Jongpcn at Kharta Shiga. He had made great pre-
parations to receive us, and had put up a large tent in which
Chinese carpets and tables were set out with pots of flowers
arranged all round. Soon after our arrival we were given
a most copious meal : bowl after bowl of well cooked macaroni
and mince with pickled radishes and chillies were set before
us. After we had finished this meal, I induced the Jongpen
and his young wife to be photographed. She had a most
elaborate head-dress of coral and pearls, with masses of
false hail' on either side of her head. It was not becoming.
Barely had we finished taking the photograph when another
meal was put in front of us : this time it consisted of Tibetan
dumplings and mince patties, of which I gave the Jongpen' s
Httle dog the greater part surreptitiously ; I then hurried
off before I should be compelled to eat a third meal.

On August 2 Mallory and Bullock started of! with thirty-
two coohes to explore the Eastern approaches to Mount
Everest. It had been very hard to get any information
about Mount Everest. The people knew the mountain by
name, but told us that the only way to get near it was by
crossing over the ridge to the South of the Kharta Valley,
when we should find a big valley that would lead right up
to Chomo-lungma. Where the Kharta River came from
they could not tell me, and whether it took its source from
the snows of Mount Everest they did not know. Tibetans'
ignorance of any valleys outside their own was really extra-
ordinary. I could seldom get any definite information about
places outside their valley, and on asking two or three
people, they would invariably give contradictory answers.
It was the same as regards distance. They would tell you
a place was one, two or three days' march away, but for

108 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

shorter distances they had no time-table, and the nearest
approach to this was a measurement by cups of tea. I
remember one day asking a village yokel how far off the
next village was, and he surprised me by answering, " Three
cups of tea." Several times afterwards I got the answer
to a question about distance given me in cups of tea, and
I eventually worked out that three cups of tea was the
equivalent of about 5 miles, and was after that able to use
this as a basis for measurements of distances.

Two or three hours after Mallory and BuUock had gone,
WoUaston and Morshead arrived from their trip to Nyenyam.
They had had bad weather the whole time. Here, too,
the weather remained overcast and threatening, with a strong
South wind, the mountains remaining covered in clouds
above 16,000 feet. To the South of us rain fell steadily
all day, but the rain did not come up as far as our camp.
One afternoon Morshead, Wollaston and I went over to
have tea with our hospitable Zemindar Hopaphema about
a mile away from us. On this occasion he gave us pods of
fresh peas and the red hips and haws of the wild rose as a
kind of hors d'oeuvre, followed by a junket served with pea
flour. Then came bowls of hot milk with macaroni and
minced meat, seasoned with chiUies, together with potatoes
and a kind of fungus that grew in the woods. After this
meal, from which we suffered no ill effects, for our stomachs
were getting accustomed to queer foods, he produced an
old painted musical instrument with two sounding boards,
on which he played and sang at the same time some old
Tibetan love songs. Some of these had quite a catching
and plaintive melody. He showed us also some Tibetan
dances. Our interpreter, unfortunately, refused to give us
a literal translation of some of the love songs, though he
seemed very amused at them.

Another afternoon I rode with Wollaston some 5 miles
up the Kharta Valley to the Gandcnchofel Monastery.
This was situated in a delightfully sheltered spot surrounded
by poplars and ancient gnarled juniper trees of great size.

THE MOVE TO KHARTA 109

On arrival we were shown into a picturesque courtyard,
the walls of which were covered with paintings depicting
scenes from the life of Buddha. Cushions and tables had
been arranged for our reception and placed on a verandah
where, on arrival, we were given cups of tea and hot milk.
The Head Lama presently came out and after taking some
tea with us, proceeded to show us round his temple. This
was a curious building, square in shape, and surmounted
by a cupola. It was very soHdly built of stone and was,
they told us, about 500 years old. It was founded by a
saint called Jetsun-Nga-Wang-Chhofel, who after a great
flood which swept down the valley, destroying all the houses
in it, had taken a large frog (which animal is believed to
represent the Water God) and buried it under the centre
pillar of the temple. With great reverence they showed
us the spot under which this unfortunate frog had been
immured in the centre of the shrine. This immolation of
the frog had apparently not been completely efficacious in
preventing the floods as two other floods had subsequently
occurred, and two small Chortens had been erected to make
quite certain that the frog could not get out again and cause
more floods. The interior of the temple was very dark
in spite of numerous butter lamps. As our eyes gradually
became accustomed to the dim light, we made out three
figures of Buddha — a large one in the centre and smaller
ones on either side. On the pillars were figures of the saint
who had founded the monastery. In this temple were also
represented some Indian saints, but these were shown as
dark figures, very black and very ugly. Tibetans always
despise the Indian and they therefore represent him as quite
black and with the ugliest features imaginable. Around
the shrine were twelve great plaster figures — about 12 feet
to 15 feet in height — the guardians of the shrme, figures
monstrously ugly, and evidently made so in order to frighten
away the evil-doer. Outside the sanctuary there was a
curious passage in the thickness of the walls leading all
round the buildmg, in which were stencilled and painted

110 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

curious representations of Buddha. In one of the side rooms
there was a huge prayer wheel, which rang a bell every
time it was turned ; it contained, the priests told us, many
million prayers. After visiting the shrine, I took a photograph
of the monks with their long trumpets, their bejewelled
clarionets and their drums. After our tour of inspection
we were given further refreshment in the way of macaroni
and meat in a small secluded garden where the monks used
to walk reading the Scriptures and meditating.

On another day Wollaston and I made an excursion down
to the gorges of the Arun. We first rode up the Kharta
Valley, crossing the river by the first bridge, and then following
the right bank of the river as far as we could go. After
riding only a short way, we entered into a country and a
scenery where we might have been a hundred miles away
from Tibet. The change was extraordinarily sudden —
a dense forest covered the hillsides, mostly of fir {Abies
Webhiana) and birch, many of them fine old trees. The
undergrowth consisted of rhododendrons, 8 feet to 10 feet
in height and extremely difficult to get through. Besides
these there were many larch and willow trees growing on
the hillside, together with many new and delightful flowers.
We went on until we were brought up by a series of per-
pendicular cliffs that descended 700 feet sheer down to the
river below us. It was a grand sight from here to see the
mighty Bhong-chu or Arun River, narrowed now to one-third
of its former width, forcing its way in a series of rapids
through these stupendous gorges covered with woods wherever
the precipices allowed a tree to grow and with trees dipping
their branches far below us in the flooded waters of the
river. On the opposite side of the gorge we saw a small
track wandering along the cliffs ; the inhabitants told us
it was impossible to get across the river lower down at this
time of the year until you reach Lungdo, where there was a
bridge some 20 miles lower down. Kharta now remained
the base headquarters of the Expedition until it was time
to return to India in October, and all the expeditions that

n I f \

THE MOVE TO KHARTA 111

we made up the Kharta Valley, or into the Kama Valley,
were made from Kharta. The Jongpen there and Hopaphema
did everything they could to assist us by giving us coolies
and arranging for supplies to be sent up to the various
camps.

CHAPTER VII
THE KAMA VALLEY

We had not been able to gather much information locally
about Mount Everest. A few of the shepherds said that
they had heard that there was a great mountain in the next
valley to the South, but they could not tell us whether
the Kharta River came from this great mountain. The
easiest way to get to this valley, they told us, was by crossing
the Shao La, or the Langma La, both of which passes were
to the South of the Kharta Valley, and, they said, led into
this new vaUey. They called this valley the Kama Valley,
and Httle did we reahse at the time that in it we were going
to find one of the most beautiful valleys in the world. Mallory
and Bullock had already left Kharta on August 2 to explore
this route, which we thought would lead us to the Eastern
face of Mount Everest. As WoUaston and Morshead had
now arrived at Kharta, there was nothing to prevent my
followuig the others and learning something about the
geography of the country. Eleven mule-loads of rations,
consisting of flour, potatoes, sugar and rations for the
surveyors, had just arrived ; there was therefore now no
cause for me to worry about shortage of supplies. These
had been sent off from Yatung on June 15, but had only
arrived at Kharta on August 2. Learning that I was about
to start off, Hopaphema, the old Zemindar, hurriedly came
round with a large basket full of spinach, potatoes, and
turnips, which he insisted on my taldng with me.

On August 5, taking with me Chheten Wangdi and a
dozen coolies, I started off in the tracks of Mallory and
Bullock. For the first few miles we travelled up the Kharta
Valley, through rich fields of barley, by far the best that I

112

THE KAMA VALLEY 113

had seen so far in Tibet. The crops were very even and
everywhere quite 3 feet in heiglit. The valley was thickly
inhabited, containing villages nearly every mile, and many
monasteries, some of which were surrounded by fine old
gnarled juniper trees. Our local coolies made very poor
progress, taking six hours to cover the first 6 miles, as
they stopped at every village for a drink. After passing
the last village, there was a steep climb of 1,000 feet. Here
our coolies were very anxious to stop and spend the night,
but I pushed on ahead, and they came on behind very slowly
and reluctantly. Seeing that it was impossible to get over
the Langma La, I stopped at the limit of firewood and camped
at a height of 16,100 feet. Poo, who was acting as my cook,
had forgotten to bring any matches with him, and I watched
him with much interest lighting a fire of damp rhododendron
bushes with the flint and tinder that he always carried.
The day had been clear and very warm ; and on the way
up we had had some fine views of the great snowy peaks
on the Eastern side of the Arun River. The villagers had
told us that this pass was impossible for ponies, and I accord-
ingty left mine behind at Kharta, though we found out that
ponies could quite well have crossed the pass. Opposite
our camp was a peak of black rock with a glacier just below
it. During the night there was a little rain and the morning
was unfortunately cloudy. As our coolies had informed us
that there were three passes to be crossed in the next march,
I had them all started off by 5.30 a.m., after which I left
with my coolies, Ang Tenze and Nyima Tendu, who always
accompanied me carrying a rifle, a shot-gun and three cameras
of different sizes. Above the camp there was a steep cHmb
of 1,000 feet on to a broad, rocky shelf in which was a pretty
turquoise-blue lake. This was followed by another steep cHmb
of 500 feet on to another great shelf, after which a further
climb of 500 feet brought us to the top of the Langma La,
18,000 feet. The three steps up to this pass were evidently
the three passes that the coolies had told us about, as from
the top we looked down into the next vaUey. AU the coolies

M.E. I

114 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

who were carrjdng loads complained of headaches, due no
doubt to the steep climb and the high elevation of the pass.
To the East there was a curious view looking over the Arun
towards some high snow peaks. Clouds were lymg in patches
everywhere on the hillsides, as the air was saturated with
moisture. To the West our gaze encountered a most wonderful
amphitheatre of peaks and glaciers. Three great glaciers
almost met in the deep green valley that lay at our feet.
One of these glaciers evidently came down from Mount
Everest, the second from the beautiful chffs of Chomolonzo,
the Northern peak of Makalu, of which we unfortunately
could only get occasional and partial glimpses, an ice or
rock chff peeping out of the clouds every now and then at
mcredible heights above us. The third glacier came from
Kama Changri, a fine peak to the North of the Kama VaUey
which later on we climbed. The clouds kept mostly at a height
of about 22,000 feet, and prevented us from seeing the tops
of the mountains. After waiting for an hour at the top of
the pass in hopes of the clouds lifting, I started the descent,
catching on the way a very pretty Marmot rat, with huge
eyes and ears for his size, and a pretty bluish grey fur.
Meeting shortly afterwards some of Mallory and Bullock's
coolies, I gave this animal to them to take back to Wollaston.
We now descended through grassy uplands for nearly 3,000
feet, past another beautiful blue lake called Shurim Tso,
and came to a curious long and narrow terrace about
1,000 feet above the bottom of the valley. Here there
was a tent belonging to some yak herds ; and as wood and
water were plentiful I determined to stop and spend the
night with them. They called the place Tangsham. It was
certainly a most glorious place for a camp, for it overlooked
three great valleys and glaciers. Opposite us, on the other
side of the valley, were the immense cliffs of Chomolonzo,
which towered up to nearly 26,000 feet, while Mount Everest
and its great ridges filled up the head of the valley. I spent
the whole afternoon lying among the rhododendrons at
15,000 feet, and admiring the beautiful glimpses of these

THE KAMA VALLEY 115

mighty peaks revealed by occasional breaks among the
fleecy clouds. The shepherds were able to give me much
information about the district, which proved very useful
to us afterwards. They come up here every year for a few
months in the summer and in the winter cross over to the
valley of the Bong-chu.

After a slight frost during the night, we had one of the
few really perfect days that fell to our lot in the Kama
VaUey. As soon as I had finished breakfast I climbed up
1,000 feet behind the camp ; opposite me were the
wonderful white cliffs of Chomolonzo and Makalu, which
dropped almost sheer for 11,000 feet into the valley below.
Close at hand were precipices of black rock on which, in
the dark hollows, nestled a few dirty glaciers. Mount Everest
being some way further off, did not appear nearly as imposing.
Our object now was to get as close to it as possible ; we
therefore descended into the valley, a steep drop of nearly
1,000 feet, through luxuriant vegetation. A very beautiful
blue primula was just beginning to come out. This Wollaston
had already discovered a fortnight before near Lapchi-Kang.
We then crossed the Rabkar Chu, a stream which came out
of the Rabkar Glacier, by a very rickety bridge over which
the water was washing. Beyond this was a very fertile
plain covered with rhododendrons, juniper, willow and
mountain ash. On it were a couple of small huts which
were occupied by some yak herds. From here we had to
foUow along the edge of the Kang-do-shung Glacier which,
coming down from Chomolonzo, plunges across the valley
until it strikes against the rocks of the opposite side. Between
the glacier and these cliffs was an old water-course up which
we travelled, but stones kept frequently fallmg from the
cliffs above and the passage was somewhat dangerous.
This had evidently been the old channel of the stream that
has its source in the glaciers of Mount Everest, but owing
to the advance of the Kang-do-shung Glacier, is now compelled
to find its way through this glacier and hurls itself into a
great ice cavern in it. Opposite this ice cavern we had a

116 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

steep climb for 500 feet, and found ourselves among pleasant
grassy meadows, after a few miles of which we came to a place
called Pethang Ringmo, where we found some yak herds
hving. We found that MaUory and Bullock had chosen this
place to be their base camp. It was a most delightfully
sunny spot at 16,400 feet, right under the gigantic and
marvellously beautiful cliffs of Chomolonzo, now aU powdered
over with the fresh snow of the night before and only separated
from us by the Kangshung Glacier, here about a mile wide.
Great avalanches thunder down its sides aU the day long
with a terrifjdng sound. Everest from here is seen to fiU
up the head of the valley with a most formidable circle of cliffs
overhung by hanging glaciers, but it is not nearly such a
beautiful or striking mountain as Makalu or Chomolonzo.
The shepherds would insist that Makalu was the higher of
the two mountains, and would not believe us when we said
that Mount Everest was the higher. Next morning was
foggy, but there was a glimpse of blue sky behind the mists,
so after breakfast I hurried up the valley, intending to climb
a ridge exactly opposite to Mount Everest which I had marked
down the night before. After walking for an hour up the
valley in a thick fog, by luck I struck the right ridge, which
proved a very steep chmb. Glimpses of blue sky and white
peaks, however, gave us hopes of better views higher up.
It took me two and a half hours to climb 3,000 feet, which
at last brought me above the mists. The top of the ridge
was 19,500 feet high, and from it we had most superb views.
Mount Everest was only 3 or 4 miles away from us. From
it to the South-east swept a huge amphitheatre of mighty
peaks culminating in a new and unsurveyed peak, 28,100 feet
in height, to which we gave the name of Lhotse, which in
Tibetan means the South Peak. From this side the mountain
appeared quite unclimbable, as the cliffs were all topped
with hanging glaciers, from which great masses of ice came
thundering down into the valley below all the day long.
Between Mount Everest and Makalu, on the watershed
between Tibet and Nepal, there stands up a very curious

Cliffs oi- Chumohinzo
from camp at Pethang Ringmo.

THE KAMA VALLEY 117

conical peak, to which we gave the name of Pethangtse.
On either side of it are two very steep, but not very high,
passes into Nepal ; both of them are, however, probably
unclimbable. To the South-east towered up the immense
cliffs of Makalu, far the more beautiful mountain of the
two. The whole morning I spent on this ridge, taldng
photographs whenever opportunity offered. The clouds
kept coming up and melting away again and were most
annoying, but they occasionally afforded us the most beautiful
glimpses and peeps of the snow and rock peaks by which
we were surrounded. At a height of over 19,000 feet, I had
a great chase after a new kind of rat ; but it finally eluded
me, and I was not able to add it to our already large collection.
Even at these heights I found both yellow and white saxifrages
and a blue gentian. From the top of this ridge I had been
able to see Kanchenjunga and Jannu, though nearly 100
miles away, but their summits stood up out of the great sea
of clouds which covered Nepal.

On returning to camp in the afternoon, I found that
MaUory and Bullock were there. They had climbed a snow
peak on the North side of the Kama VaUey, about 21,500
feet, and from this view point had been unable to discover
a possible route up Mount Everest on the Eastern face ;
they thought, however, that there might be an alternative
approach from the next valley to the North. They therefore
intended returning to the Kharta Valley to follow that river
to its source.

Next morning was cloudy, and neither Everest nor Makalu
were to be seen ; but towards the East the view was clear,
though the mountains appeared to be much too close. We
started all together down the valley. On the way I cHmbed
1,000 feet up among the rocks opposite to the big
glacier that descends from Chomolonzo. I failed, however,
to get the good view of Makalu which I had been hoping
for, owing to the clouds, and returned to my old camping
ground at Tangsham, Mallory and BuUock branching off
from here towards the Langma La. The shepherds had told

118 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

us that there was another pass into the Kharta Valley called
the Shao La, rather more to the South. I therefore intended
to make use of this pass on the return journey to Kharta.
As usual, in the evening, the clouds came up and enveloped
us in a thick mist. Every night this happened in the Kama
Valley, and was evidently due to the excessive moisture of
the air. When we started the following morning, there was
still a thick Scotch mist which made the vegetation very
wet. We descended the Kama Valley, most of the time
keeping high up above the river. On the opposite side of
the vaUey were immense black cliffs descending sheer for
many thousand feet. On the way we passed through acres
of blue iris, mostly over now, and then through a very
luxuriant vegetation which grew more and more varied
as we descended lower. There was a lovely emerald-green
lake beside the path, and like white sentinels on the hillsides
grew the great rhubarb of Sikkim, the Rheum nohile. This
was a most conspicuous plant with columns of the palest
green leaves sheathing the flower spikes which grew fully
5 feet in height. There were several other varieties of rhubarb
here, but none were as handsome as this. At one place we
descended as low as 13,000 feet and came once more amongst
dense forests of juniper, silver firs (Abies Wehbiana), mountain
ash, willow, birch and taU rhododendrons. From every
tree hung long grey lichens attesting the moisture of the
climate. Wherever there was an open space in the forest,
it was carpeted with flowers. Two delightful varieties
of primula were new to me, and were just coming out, one
of them being almost black in colour. The big deep red
meconopsis grew here, too, in great luxuriance. Gentians
of all kinds abounded and many other varieties of flowers
and ferns, due to the fact that Makalu seems to attract
all the storms, causing the moist Monsoon currents to be
drawn into this valley. As the day went on, the weather
improved ; the sun came out, and the clouds melted away,
disclosing the magnificent peaks of Makalu. A big glacier
descended from the East face from a side valley into the

Tup: Kama \'ai.i.kv.

THE KAMA VALLEY 119

floor of the valley below us at a height of about 12,000 feet.
It was very curious to see fir trees, birch and juniper, and
a very luxuriant vegetation growing on either side of the
ice and on the moraines beside it.

Below this glacier the valley became quite flat with
grassy meadows and patches of forest dotted about the
pastures — a very unusual type of valley for the Himalayas.
Almost opposite to this glacier we turned into a side valley ;
the path and the stream that came down this valley were
often indistinguishable. All round the valley were great
black cliffs ; in one place where they were less precipitous
the path found its way upwards. Our camp was pitched
that night on a shelf above the cliffs where for a short time
we had some very wonderful views. This place was called
in Tibetan " The Field of Marigolds," though at the time
we were there they were all over. We were at a height of
15,300 feet, and Makalu's two peaks were almost exactly
opposite to us. The cloud effects were very striking ; the
storms seemed to gather round Makalu, and first one peak
and then the other would appear out of the great white
cumulus clouds whose shapes changed every minute. As
usual, the mists came up in the evening, and we were enveloped
in a very wet Scotch mist with a temperature of 46° Fahr.
Next morning, instead of getting the lovely view that we had
expected, a thick Scotch mist prevented our seeing more
than 20 yards away. We crawled up to the top of the
Shao La, 16,500 feet, in driving rain, but after crossing over
it we emerged into finer weather. On the descent we passed
several fine lakes, on the cliffs above which were numerous
ram chakor (Himalayan snowcock). I pursued a covey of
these, and after a chase managed to shoot one. They are
very fine birds, weighing between 5 and 6 lb. ; they are
extremely noisy and fond of their own voices. The parent
birds are always very loth to leave theii' young, and early
in the summer it is possible to approach very close to them ;
but later on in the year, when the young have become nearly
full grown, they are very wily, and having excellent eyesight,

120 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

do not allow anyone to approach within a couple of hundred
yards. That afternoon I arrived back at Kharta, where
the weather had been quite fine, and where there had been
but httle rain during my absence.

Dui*ing that night a thief broke into our store-room,
forcing and breakmg the lock outside. The only thing he
took, as far as we could find out, was one of Wheeler's
yak-dans (a leather mule trunk). The thief had probably
mistaken this one for one of mine, which contained a
considerable amount of money, and knowmg that I was
away, he thought that my kit must be packed away in the
store-room. We informed the Jongpen and the head-
men of the villages around of the theft, and had a couple of
suspicious characters watched ; but we never found any
trace of the stolen articles, which luckily were of very small
value. For the next fortnight I remained at Kharta.

On August 19 Heron suddenly arrived back after a
very interesting trip, during which he had explored all
the mountains North of Tingri and Shekar Dzong up to the
Brahmaputra watershed. He had had very bad weather
all the time. Every night there had been heavy thunder-
storms and practically all the bad weather had come from
the North. The whole country was under water, and it
was very difficult to get about. Some of the rivers that
we had crossed earlier in the season were now a mile or more
wide.

On the following day Bullock and Mallory returned to
Kharta after having explored the Upper Kharta Valley.
They thought that they had found a possible way up Mount
Everest from this valley, but at present the weather was too
bad for them to carry on with their reconnaissance, and they
had come down for a fortnight's rest, hoping that the Monsoon
would be over by the beginning of September and that they
would then be able to make a proper attack on the mountain.
As Mallory and Bullock were likely to be at Kharta for
some time, Wollaston and I seized this opportunity to visit
the lower valley of the Kama-chu.

THE KAMA VALLEY 121

Therefore, on August 23, with eleven of our own coolies
and several Tibetan coolies, we climbed the Samchung
Pass (15,000 feet), and then descended into the valley of
the fourteen lakes, and after crossing the Chog La camped
on the far side of the pass near a dark green and sacred
lake called Ruddamlamtso. On the way we saw a new species
of black rat in the moraine of a glacier ; but Wollaston's
servant, who had the collecting gun with him, was unfortu-
nately far behind ; he was always rather fond of drink and
loth to leave the villages. The weather was cloudy, and
there were no views from the top of either pass. The march
was a strenuous one, taking the coolies thirteen hours to
cover the whole distance, and they did not arrive till after
dark. The Ruddamlamtso, the lake by which we were
camped, had wonderfully clear water ; I could see every
stone at a depth of 20 feet, and it was evidently very deep.
It is looked upon as a sacred lake, and to it people make
yearly pilgrimages, walking round it burning mcense and
throwing spices into its waters.

The following morning the clouds were low down every-
where on the hillsides and we had no views. There was
a steep descent for 4 miles to Sakeding — 12,100 feet, through
the most interesting zones of vegetation. We followed
the edge of the rushing stream, always white from the rapidity
of its descent. On one side of the vaUey grew rhododendrons
of many varieties and mountain ash, and on the other were
hoary old junipers with twisted stems. Grey lichens hung
down from every branch, and were often 5 or 6 feet in length.
We came across some of the finest and largest red currants
that we had yet seen. Of these we collected a great quantity,
and they formed a very excellent stew. Birches, wild roses
and berberis were the commonest shrubs, while nearly every
rock was covered with an extremely pretty rose-coloured
creeper, which in places caused the hillsides to look quite
pink. Earlier in the year the iris must have been a very
beautiful sight, as we passed through acres of their leaves.
A big yellow rock-rose with flowers 2 inches across was

122 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

also to be met with here, and many of the lower leaves of
the rhododendrons were turning yellow to scarlet, making
a great show of colour on the dark green of the hillside.
Deep purple-coloured primulas and monkshood, as well
as a curious hairy mauve-red monkshood with a very
graceful growth, were also to be seen. The pretty white-
crested red-start flitted about from rock to rock, and numerous
tits of various kinds flew about in flocks from tree to tree
as we descended.

Sakeding (Pleasant terrace) had been at one time a
village of considerable size, but a pestilence sent by the
local demon had wiped out all its inhabitants. This demon
was still reputed to be very active, and no one had dared
to re-build the old houses of which the ruins, overgrown
with weeds and bushes, could be seen here and there. It
was a very pleasant site for a village, situated as it was
on a terrace that projected out into the vaUey 1,000
feet above the stream below. During the summer months
there is quite a trade passing through this place, the Tibetans
bringing salt from the North, and the Nepalese coming up
from Nepal with rice, dyes and vegetables, which they
exchange. The rate of barter at this time was two measures
of rice or three measures of madder dye for one measure
of salt, and no money changes hands. Everything that
was brought here was brought on the backs of cooUes, and
these Nepalese coolies were sturdy, cheery fellows, and thought
nothing of carrying 80 lb. of salt on their backs up and down
the execrable paths of the district.

From Sakeding we descended steeply through a forest
of the finest juniper trees that I had yet seen. These grew
80 to 90 feet high, and many of their trunks were 18 feet
to 20 feet in circumference. As a rule they had clean stems,
without a branch for 50 feet or 60 feet. The branches
were all hung with grey lichens. We now descended beside
the muddy and tempestuous waters of the Kama-chu. The
juniper forest gradually gave way to silver firs — wonderful
trees of enormous size and great age. We passed through

THE KAMA VALLEY 123

many open glades, park-like in appearance, with grand
clumps of fir trees or sycamore dotted here and there. The
hillsides were absolutely running over with water, and
often for several hundred yards we walked along logs put
down to try and avoid the mud and the running water.
As many of these rounded logs were very sUppery, both we
and our coolies had to proceed with caution, and even so
we experienced many a fall. At Chu-tronu — 10,200 feet —
there was a well-made wooden bridge, 60 feet long, which
spanned the river where it flowed in a narrow channel between
two great rocks. We crossed this bridge, and finding a
broad open space there, I selected a spot suitable for our
camp and ordered the coolies to cut down some of the grass
where we intended to pitch the tents. I could not at first
make out why they kept jumping about when thus engaged,
but on going to investigate, I found that the place was
ahve with leeches ; however, as there was no other better
place in which to camp, we had to make the best of it. The
men collected some dry bamboos out of an old shepherd's
hut which was close by ; these they burnt on the sites where
we were to pitch our tents, hoping by this means to drive
away the leeches. This method, however, was not very
successful, for all that evening we were busy picking leeches
off our clothes, legs, hands or heads. They climbed up
the sides of the tents and dropped down into our food, our
cups and on to our plates. Wollaston invented the best
way of killing them, which was by cutting them in two
with a pair of scissors. Our interpreter remonstrated with
him, as he said this method increased the number of leeches,
thinking that both ends of them would grow. After a some-
what restless and disturbed night, due to these leeches,
we started off next morning to go down to the junction
of the Kama River with the Arun. The distance as the crow
flies was only about 6 miles, but we did not realise the kind
of path that we should have to traverse. In that short
distance we must have risen and fallen quite 5,000 feet.
The path was never level and always very rough and stony.

124 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

At first it led through beautiful glades running with moisture
and over logs buried, most of them, inches deep in the water ;
they were, however, better to walk on than the soft mud
there was on either side. The silver firs were now at their
best — trees over 100 feet in height, and with stems 20 feet
to 25 feet in cii'cumference. Here grew great hydrangeas
20 feet or more in height covered with flowers. Our only
halts on the way down, and they were pretty frequent,
were to pick ofi the leeches from our clothes. We took
them ofi by tens at a time ; they were very hungry, and
varied in size from great striped horse-leeches to tiny ones
as thin as a pin and able to penetrate anj^where. The track
now left the upper terraces and descended very steeply
towards the river, at times climbing sharply upwards again
to avoid precipitous rocks and cUffs. During the descent,
we gradually passed from the zone of the silver firs into
that of the spruce, meeting the lovely Picea Brunoniana, which
grew to an even greater size than the silver firs. Many of the
trees were over 150 feet in height and without a branch for 70
feet or 80 feet ; their stems too, were often 25 feet to 30 feet in
circumference. This valley is so inaccessible that I am glad
to thmk that these glorious forests can never be exploited
commercially. After passing a great overhanging rock
called Korabak, which is evidently much used as a halting-
place, we descended steeply to the river, which now forms a
series of cascades, leaping from rock to rock, a very remarkable
spectacle. During the last 6 miles of its course, this river —
the product of four large glacier streams — descends at the
rate of 450 feet every mile. In places there were waterfalls
of 20 feet and more, where the river hurled itself into seething
cauldrons ; in one place I saw it confined to a breadth of
barely 5 feet. The junction of this river with the Arun is
only 7,500 feet above the sea ; just above the junction
is a bridge which leads to the village of Kimonanga, a
picturesque village situated on a terrace some 700 feet
above the river and surrounded by some fine trees. In this
valley we came across a few blue pines (Pinus excelsa) and

THE KAMA VALLEY 125

also a large-leafed alder ; near its junction with the Arun
were many trees and orchids of a semi-tropical character.
On the opposite side of the valley is a forest of evergreen
oak trees, but as I was unable to cross the river I could
not say to what species they belonged. On the way we
passed many yellow raspberries on which we slaked our
thirst. Our guide also dug up some of the roots of the wild
arum to show us ; it is a great flattish tuberous root, rather
oval in shape. This the inhabitants dig up and, after allowing
it to ferment by burying it in a hole for several days, pound
it up, and then eat it ; it was much esteemed by the villagers.
It is necessary to ferment it first, as otherwise the root is
extremely poisonous. We tasted a slice of bread made out
of this root, and I have seldom tasted anything nastier.
It is supposed, if not properly fermented, to cause aU the
hair to fall out of the head ; but I should be inclined to
imagine that it would do this even if it were properly
fermented. Near the junction of the Kama and Arun Rivers,
we climbed up on to a terrace 1,200 feet above, on which
was situated the village of Lungdo. The great Arun gorges
here become a considerable valley ; for 20 miles above this
point up to Kharta the Arun runs through a narrow and
practically impassable gorge, but here the valley widens
out for a few miles and contains several villages ; a short
distance below it enters again into another great gorge.
The river now was in full flood and covered the whole of
the bottom of the valley, being in places many hundred
yards in width. At one spot, where it contracted, there
was a well-made bridge leading to the village of Matsang.
I was astonished to meet with maize growing at this height —
8,700 feet. The villagers also grew cucumbers, pumpkins
and several kinds of millet, including an extremely pretty red
one. The head-man of Lungdo gave me some millet beer,
which was very refreshing after the long march. Wollaston
did not care for it, but between us we managed to eat three
large and juicy cucumbers. The head-man was very friendly ;
and a local official was staying here who had just come

126 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

from Kharta, who recognised us, and presented us with
some excellent honey cakes. We neither of us looked forward
to the upliiU return journey, but after five and a half hours'
hard walking I reached camp just before dark. Wollaston
did not arrive tiU later, and I had to send a coolie with a
lamp to bring him in. We were both of us much exhausted,
as the day had been a long and trying one. That night
we had a grand camp fire of rhododendron and fir logs.
Hundreds of moths insisted on flying into the fire instead of
entering the tent where Wollaston was ready with his cyanide
bottle to catch them.

The following morning the weather was dull and cloudy,
and did not look very promising. We determined, however,
to visit the Popti La, the pass between Tibet and Nepal,
over which all the local traffic passes. Leaving the camp,
we entered a small side valley to the South, the path climbing
steeply upwards under big rhododendrons {R. Falconeri
and R. Argenteum) with leaves 18 inches long. Noticing
many of their leaves strewn on the path, I inquired the
reason for this. Our guide informed us that the carriers
fastened these leaves together with thin strips of bamboo
and thus provided an excellent waterproof cover for them-
selves and for their loads. After climbing about a mile,
we saw some bamboo huts in the forest and a number of
cows were grazing round them. These belonged to some
Nepalese herds who come over here in the summer, bringing
their cattle to graze. The path now followed the side of a
rushing torrent, peaty brown in colour, which came hurrying
down under the shade of birch, sycamore, silver firs, juniper
and rhododendi^ons. As we ascended higher, the open spaces
became more frequent, though the grass and weeds grew
fully 3 feet in height, attesting the constant rainfall of this
district. On leaving the path to collect a few seeds from
some plants growing a short distance away from it, I found
myself in a few moments covered with leeches which appar-
ently thrive here at an altitude of over 12,000 feet ; this must
be almost a record height for these pests. The path climbed

THE KAMA VALLEY 127

up steeply, tlie rhododendrons growing gradually smaller
in size as we ascended. After going for four hours, we reached
the top of the pass— 14,000 feet. Here on the top was a
stone half hidden in a pile of rocks with a notice, written
in Chinese characters, that this was the boundary between
Tibet and Nepal. Across the top of the pass was a long
wall, mostly overgrown with grass, evidently at one time
considered to be some kind of defence. Owing to the clouds
being very low, we unfortunately had no view from the
top, but just below us, on the Nepalese side, was a fine
black lake, about half a mile long, with an island in the centre,
which the Nepalese called Dungepokri. On the top were
many interesting Alpine flowers, amongst them a charming
white potentiUa with a red centre ; and a large cream-coloured
primula, shading into deep orange. We also came across
several new varieties of gentians. Here we rested for a
couple of hours, hoping that the clouds might lift, but a
nasty rain began to fall heavily. While we were waiting
several coolies from Nepal passed by : from these we found
out that the pass was closed by snow for five months in
the year and that the trade market at Sakeding was closed
by the end of October. We now turned our footsteps home-
ward, urged on by cold showers of rain. On the descent
we were able to collect a few seeds. Autumn was approaching,
though the trees had not yet begun to assume their autumn
colours owing to the warm nights. That evening in the
camp we had an enormous bonfire of birch, juniper and
rhododendrons, which made the prettiest blaze imaginable,
with flames of green, blue, violet and orange. The large
fire also helped to keep away the leeches. Heavy rain fell
again all night, and the thermometer did not descend below
55° Fahr. The morning, however, broke fine, and we started
back again up the vaUey to Sakeding. The sun shone every
now and then, giving us occasional glimpses of distant glaciers
at the head of the valley. The walk through the forest,
with the sunlight shining on the dark green leaves of the
rhododendron and the dripping foliage, was very dehghtful.

128 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

The undergrowth consisted of wild roses, berberis with its
necklaces of scarlet berries, wild currants of a great size —
sour to the taste, but excellent when stewed — ^wild raspberries,
Ught feathery bamboos, birch, willow and a most luxuriant
vegetation of flowers and grasses. In one or two places
the mountain ash were just beginning to show traces of
colour. We soon left the leeches behind us and followed
our old track through the forest beside the rushing waters
of the Kama-chu. Enormous rocks which had faUen from
above had in places almost blocked up the river. Often
on these great boulders in the middle of the stream were
growing the graceful Himalayan larch. On the steepest
rock faces grew vegetation of every kind, thanks to the
excessive moisture of the climate, and from every tree and
from every bush hung long and picturesque lichens. Crested
tits and bullfinches lived in great numbers in this forest
and gave it quite a homehke appearance. The climb from
the river had been a steep one, and we pitched our camp
at Sakeding in a downpour of rain, but towards the evening
the weather cleared up, allowing us fine views of great snow
peaks which showed above the mists on the opposite sides
of the valley. It was too far to go from Sakeding to Kharta
in one day ; we therefore decided to camp before crossing
the Chog La. We passed our old camp by the green lake
Ruddamlamtso, and I had a long chase after some ram chakor,
but they were too clever for me and ran up the hill faster
than I could follow them. The large moraines which con-
verged in this valley were specially interesting, and threw
much light on its past history. Each moraine had its own
long line of boulders formed of different lands of rock,
according to the character of the mountains from which they
had been carried down by the ice. It was not difficult to
imagine the vast glaciers by which these lines of boulders
had been deposited ; glaciers which must at one time have
completely blocked the valley and the disappearance of
which has made room for the chain of lakes which now
occupy the vaUey. We pitched our camp at a place called

THE KAMA VALLEY 129

Mendalongkyo — 15,500 feet — in a pleasantly sheltered spot
where a gurgling stream disappeared under an old moraine.
In the afternoon Wollaston went out after rats, of which
he secured a new variety. Our coolies had a great chase
after a fat marmot, which they very nearly caught, but he
got down into his hole just in time. Around the camp
were quantities of a very beautiful pale blue gentian — a
regular Eton blue colour. Wandering up the spur North-
west of the camp I counted nine lakes in the next valley
and four lakes in the one that we were in ; as the rain
began to fall again, I returned to camp.

The next morning, August 29, we began our homeward
journey to Kharta. Getting up early, we climbed on to
the high ridge North-west of the camp, from which we had
a fair view ; but unfortunately both Makalu and Mount
Everest were hidden by clouds. We waited for a long time
in hopes of a better view, but the clouds only grew thicker.
We therefore followed the ridge above the Chog La. On
the way I shot a Tibetan snow partridge {Lerwa nivicola),
an extremely pretty bird with lovely markings. This was
the first I had seen.

We now turned our backs upon the Kama Valley with
much regret. We had explored many of these Himalayan
valleys, but none seemed to me to be comparable with this,
either for the beauty of its Alpine scenery, or for its wonderful
vegetation. We shall not easily forget the smiUng pastures
carpeted with gentians and every variety of Alpine flower
that rise to the very verge of icebound and snow-covered
tracks, where mighty glaciers descend among the forests
which clothe the lower slopes.

After crossing the Chog La, we went down once more into
the valley of the lakes and then, crossing the Samchung La,
descended to Kharta which we found bathed in sunshine.

M.E

CHAPTER VIII

THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY AND THE
20,000 FOOT CAMP

During the early part of August Mallory and Bullock,
after they had found that there was no possible means of
attacking Mount Everest from the Kama Valley, crossed
the Langma La and returned to the Kharta VaUey. Up
this valley they now proceeded until they reached the glaciers
in which the Kharta River has its source. After exploring
a number of valleys, they at last found one which led straight
to Mount Everest. Accompanied by Major Morshead, who
had joined them during their excursion, they made a long and
tiring reconnaissance of this valley, and satisfied themselves
that it afforded a practicable approach to the North-eastern
ridge of Mount Everest. The slopes were fairly gentle, but
were at that time covered with soft fresh snow, laiee deep.
Over these snow-covered glaciers, up which they had
proceeded with great difficulty, they found a col from which
it was possible to attack the mountain. Under the existing
conditions of soft snow and warm weather it would have
been quite impossible to take laden coolies along this route,
and they therefore returned to Kharta to wait until the
monsoon conditions had abated and the snow should have
become hard and frozen.

On our return from the Kama Valley on August 29, we
found Mallory and Bullock still at Kharta, waiting for the
weather to improve. About this time it was showing distinct
signs of improvement. The clouds were not so thick and
there were many more bright intervals with blue skies.
They therefore determined to start off on August 31, to
form an advanced base camp up the Kharta Valley.

130

THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY 131

On September 1, much to the surprise of every one,
Raeburn arrived back from DarjeeHng. He reported very
wet conditions throughout Tibet, the rivers everywhere
being unfordable, and most of the bridges washed away.
He also reported having seen five bags of our mails at Chushar.
Our posts had latterly been very erratic, and for five weeks
no mails had arrived. We did not know what had happened
to them. We were sending in a couple of our own coolies
every fortnight to Phari with our outgoing mail, and the
first lot of these coolies had not yet returned, so that we
were all without news of the outside world. Although it
was the beginning of September, the night temperatures at
Kharta were still much too high, ranging from 52° Fahr. to
47° Fahr. On September 3 Morshead and Wheeler left for
the Upper Kharta Valley, intending to go slowly and to
map and fill in the detail of the valley as they went along.

The tamencss of the birds gave us many opportunities
of studying their habits. A large family of redstarts lived
in our garden at Kharta, and used to amuse me very much.
The young birds were now fully fledged and spent most of
the day in hopping in and out of my tent ; they were not in
the least degree afraid, and the mother would come and feed
them actually inside my tent. On the terrace near the
camp there were a number of prettily marked white rock
pigeons which formed a welcome addition to our diet of
Tibetan mutton, of which we were getting very tired.

On September 5 Wollaston, Raeburn and I, with twenty-
six Tibetan coolies, and eleven of our own, started off to
join the climbing party up the Kharta Valley. The fu'st
7 miles of this valley I knew well, having traversed them
many times before. The barley fields were now fast ripening,
and were a beautiful golden colour. Curious to relate, the
barley that grew at 14,000 feet was riper than that which
grew at 12,000 feet. Two kinds of barley seemed to be
grown here — the ordinary variety, and another wdth a red
ear such as is, I believe, grown in the Shetlands. We rode
past the tidy-looking monastery of Gandenchofel, surrounded

132 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

by its juniper trees, and after a steep climb past the entrance
of the valley leading to the Langma La, descended on to
some fine river terraces, on which were many prosperous
farms and well-tiUed fields. These extended for several
more miles up the vaUey. We pitched our camp on a grassy
flat a couple of miles above the last house, where willows,
rhododendrons and junipers grew plentifully ; the marshy
ground was carpeted with gentians, one of the commonest
being dark blue in colour with ten petals, and rather like a
star in shape, the other being larger and of a pale Eton-blue
colour. I managed to collect a certain number of seeds of
both of these. We had a grand bonfire that evening, made
of juniper and willow, the last that we were to have for a
long time. The weather was disappointing and a drizzling
rain fell all night with a temperature of 42° Fahr.

It was still raining when we started in the morning, so
that there were no views. A white andromeda was still in
flower on the hiUsides, but the rhododendrons were all over.
On the opposite side of the valley juniper alone flourished
and grew to an altitude of nearly 17,000 feet. After going
a couple of miles, we passed Morshead and Wheeler's tents
pitched on an old yak camp. When we arrived, they were
stiU having breakfast, as the weather was too bad to do
any surveying. On leaving them we had a steep chmb
over grassy slopes, where the drizzling rain now changed
to snow, and for the rest of the day it fell steadily. There
appeared to be many branch valleys, and as our views in
the mist were very curtailed, we were not at all certain as
to whether we were going up the right valley — I only knew
approximately the height of the place at which we were
to camp. Therefore, on arriving at that height, I sent my
coolies off in two different directions up two different valleys
to see where Mallory and Bullock's camp might be. The
mist lifted for a moment, and one of them luckily saw Mallory,
whose camp was only a few hundred yards from us. We
decided to call this our " Advanced base camp." It was
pitched in some small grassy hollows at a height of 17,350

THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY 133

feet. The site was well sheltered from the winds, and was
a regular Alpine garden. Gentians of three different kinds
were growing there, including the lovely light-blue one.
There was also a beautiful little white saxifrage with yellow
and brown spots inside the flower, a delightful pink androsace,
and dwarf delphiniums with their single deep-blue flowers.
Here grew also the musk-scented hairy light-blue delphinium
with its overpowering smell of musk. The latter flower,
the Tibetans told me, was a great preventative of lice, and
I noticed that our cooks and most of our servants had picked
great bundles of it. They also told me that if a man habitu-
ally wears this flower about him during his lifetime, after
his death when cut up and exposed to the birds, no bird or
wolf will touch his flesh owing to the strong scent apparently
left by the musk. A pretty pink aster grew here in great
clusters, and a few blue poppies were still out. Acchu, our
cook, and Gyalzen Kazi, who were coming along behind us,
both missed their way and wandered several miles further
up the valley before they found out their mistake, and when
they eventually arrived in camp, were both suffering from
severe headaches, due to the great height. During our
stay at this camp we had plenty of time and many oppor-
tunities of observing bird and animal life. Some of the
birds were very brilliantly coloured. There was a snow
bunting with bright scarlet breast and head, also a beautiful
redstart with red body and black and white wings. Overhead
the great lammergeier, or bearded vulture, sailed in graceful
circles, while the big black raven croaked on the rocks by
the camp. Morning and evening we could hear the ramchakor
{Tetraogallus tibetanus) calling on the opposite side of the
valley, and with glasses we could see them chasing one
another and running round in circles. Red foxes I met
with on several occasions over 18,000 feet.

Mallory and Bullock, who had akeady been here for a
few days, had spent their time in carrying wood and stores
up to a higher camp further up the vaUey ; they had been
having a certain amount of trouble mth their cooUes, due

134 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

to the Sii'dar, who was always trying to create difficulties.
I therefore sent him away on a job to Chushar to collect
some of our stores which were supposed to have been detained
there, and which would keep him busy for a number of days
and prevent him from interfering with our coolies at a critical
period. We had brought up with us six live sheep, and
very lively these proved. Dukpa, Mallory's cook, let three
of them escape, but luckily some coolies coming up the
valley saw two of them, and after a great chase brought
them back. The third they could not catch and eventually
drove him under a cliff, where they kiUed him with stones
and brought his carcass back to us. The weather continued
very unsettled. During the night a couple of inches of snow
fell, but until the temperature became colder and the sky
cleared, it was no use trying to go up to the upper camp.
I shot a ramchakor on the opposite side of the valley. They
are the most tasty of the Tibetan birds, and are quite
excellent eating.

On September 8, after a frosty night, Bullock, Mallory
and I with three coolies, for the purpose of keeping fit, made
a little excursion along a rocky ridge that lay to the South
of us. On the top of the ridge there were a number of sharp
rock pinnacles that had to be climbed. I found these gym-
nastics at a height of over 19,000 feet to be very exhausting,
but Mallory did not seem to mind them in the least. There
should have been a lovely view from here, but all we got
was an occasional glimpse of glaciers and rocky peaks through
the mist. The sun was trying to shine through the clouds
and at first it was beautifully warm ; but after a couple of
hours snow began to fall, so we hurriedly descended on to
the glacier below. Snow fell all the way back to camp, and
by nightfall there were 3 inches of fresh snow round our
tents. During the night the thermometer dropped to 21°
Fahr., and the morning broke clear and frosty. I started
off early to climb the hill behind the camp, from which there
was a very extensive view, both Everest and Makalu being
for the moment quite clear and free from cloud. To the

THE UPPER KHARTA VALLEY 135

North extended a great range of snow peaks between 23,000
feet and 24,000 feet in height, rather uninteresting in appear-
ance, and to the East stretched a great sea of accumulating
cloud, out of which appeared the tops of Kanchenjunga and
Jannu. The peak on which we stood was just under 20,000
feet ; I spent several hours basking in the hot sunshine,
which was rapidly melting the fresh snow. I was surprised
to find growing at this height a tiny yellow saxifrage.

That evening eight coolies arrived with our long-expected
mail, and the rest of the day was spent in reading letters
and sorting out papers, for over two hundred letters and
papers had arrived for me alone. There was again a sharp
frost of 10° that night and the early morning was beautiful,
but clouds came quickly drifting up the valley and obscured
the fine views we had from the camp of Mount Everest and
the rocky peaks to the North of the camp. On September 11,
in spite of a warm night, Mallory and Bullock, being very
optimistic, left for the upper camp, while Morshead and
Wheeler rejoined us from their camp below, not having
been able to do any work down there owing to bad weather.
Snow fell steadily all the evening to a depth of about 3 inches.
Next day was cloudy, but warm, and the snow disappeared
again with extraordinary rapidity. I went out with a shot-
gun to try and shoot some ramchakor, and while after them
saw a very fine grey wolf who was also stalking the ram-
chakor. He came up to within 50 yards of me, so that I
was able to have a good look at him. He had a beautiful
coat, and it was very unfortunate that I did not have a rifle
with me. I wandered some way up a side valley to the
foot of a glacier, but saw no signs of birds, as the wolf had
evidently been there before me. In the afternoon Mallory
and Bullock returned from the upper camp, having been
driven down by the bad weather : another 5 inches of snow
fell that evening, so that we were kept busy beating our
tents to keep the ridge poles from breaking. On September
13, 14 and 15, snow fell on and off the whole time ; but in
spite of the bad weather I managed to shoot a burhel for

136 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

food. Their meat is very much better than that of the tame
sheep. On September 16 we had at last a fine day with a
sharp frost at night. Wheeler at once seized this opportunity
and took up a station on a hill-top on the opposite side
of the valley, from which he was able to get some useful
views. The next day, after 13° of frost in the night, Mallory,
Morshead and I started off to climb Kama Changri, a peak
to the South of the camp, that overhung the Kama Valley.
We left the camp at 2 a.m., by the light of a full moon, which
made the going as light as though it were day. We soon
reached our view-point of a few days before, where, except
for the distant roar of the stream far away below in the
vaUey, there was no other sound, only an intense stiUness.
Never anjrwhere have I seen the moon or the stars shine so
brightly. To the South, far away from us, there were
constant flashes of lightning — the valleys in Tibet, the great
gorges of the Arun, the wooded valleys of Nepal all lay
buried under a white sea of clouds, out of which emerged
the higher mountains like islands out of a fairy sea. In
this bright moonlight, mountains like Kanchenjunga — 100
miles away — stood out sharp and distinct. Here on this
sharp ridge, at a height of 21,000 feet, with no obstruction
to hide the view, sunrise came to us in all its beauty and
grandeur. To the West, and close at hand, towered up Mount
Everest, still over 8,000 feet above us ; at first showing up
cold, grey and dead against a sky of deep purple. All of
a sudden a ray of sunshine touched the summit, and soon
flooded the higher snows and ridges with golden light, while
behind, the deep purple of the sky changed to orange. Makalu
was the next to catch the first rays of the sun and glowed
as though alive; then the white sea of clouds was struck by
the gleaming rays of the sun, and all aglow with colour rose
slowly and seemed to break against the island peaks in great
billows of fleecy white.

Such a sunrise has seldom been the privilege of man to
see, and once seen can never be forgotten. After sunrise
the climbing became more unpleasant. We tried to follow

THE 20,000-rOOT CAMP 137

the direct way up the mountain, but the snow was in bad
condition and the slope very steep. We therefore crossed
the glacier, putting on our snow-shoes, and followed easier
snow slopes but bad owing to the soft snow. The going was
very tiring ; Mallory and Morshead appeared to feel the
height very much. After six hours we reached the top,
21,300 feet, from which we had a most superb view. We
looked straight down on to the Kama Valley. Makalu was
immediately opposite us with its colossal precipices. Gla-
ciers, cliffs of ice, rock peaks, fluted snow ridges and immense
mountains towered all around us above a vast sea of clouds
which stretched for hundreds of miles away to the plains of
India. Here I was able to take many photographs, but no
photograph can adequately portray the grandeur or the
impressiveness of such a scene. We stopped on the top of
Kama Changri for over three hours. It was extraordinarily
warm ; there was not a breath of air, and the sun seemed
to shine with an intense heat. Clouds then began to roll
up, and we returned to camp by an easier way down the
glacier.

Next day, in spite of 13° of frost at night, snow and sleet
fell all day again, and made us very depressed. In order to
prevent our going to sleep too soon after dinner, four of us
used to play bridge every night, and I do not suppose that
bridge has often been played at so great a height.

On September 19, after a cold night with 16° of frost,
Mallory, Bullock, Morshead and Wheeler started off for the
20,000-foot camp. The weather was now steadily growing
colder every night. On September 20 we had 18° of frost,
as well as a further fall of snow. During the night a very
fine lunar halo was seen, but the morning broke clear.
Wollaston, Raeburn and I started to join the remainder
of the party at the 20,000-foot camp, leaving Gyalzen Kazi,
our second interpreter, behind in charge of the advance
base camp. It was very necessary to have some one here
to whom we could send back for any extra stores or supplies
that might be wanted, and who would be able to forward

138 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

to us anything that might be sent up from Kharta. A
four hours' walk brought us to the camp. I had a thorough
feehng of lassitude aU the way. It required, indeed, some
effort to walk at all, and a strong effort, both of mind and
body, to reach camp. On the way beautiful views of Mount
Everest gave us encouragement. The foot of the Kharta
Glacier descends to 19,000 feet. From that point on to
the camp we travelled beside it. At first the glacier is cut
up into wonderfully shaped " seracs," but as we got higher
the surface became smoother. It was an exceptionally
white glacier ; there were no moraines on its surface, and
it was covered everywhere with a fresh coating of thick
snow. We found the camp on a terrace between two glaciers.
That above the camp resembled the pictures of a Greenland
ice cap. A thick coating of ice, to a depth of 50 to 60 feet,
covered the gentle slopes above us, and came down to within
a couple of hundred yards of the camp. The drainage from
the melting ice percolated through the stony ground, so
that on digging to a depth of 6 inches we came upon water.
A couple of hundi'ed feet below the camp was the big white
glacier which descended from the Lhakpa La. The day was
gloriously fine, and we obtained magnificent views of Mount
Everest and the snowy chain to the South of us across the
Kharta Glacier. Over the top of this snowy chain appeared
the great rocky crests of Makalu. At an altitude of over
19,800 feet I saw a hare and heard several ramchakor calling.
There grew close to the camp a few gentians with their
curious square leaves, also a dwarf blue delphinium and
a little white saxifrage. It was an extraordinary height
at which to find flowers and their season of summer cannot
last long. On arrival at the camp, we found only Wheeler
and Bullock there, as Mallory and Morshead with fourteen
cooUes had gone on ahead to carry loads up to the Lhakpa La,
which was to be our next camp. They returned in a very
exhausted condition in the course of the afternoon. The
snow, they reported, was in better condition than last time
on the lower slopes ; but as they got higher, they found

THE 20,000-FOOT CAMP 139

it still very soft and powdery. These extra loads that they
had taken up to this camp would enable the whole party
to go up to it and to sleep there, if necessary, for several
days. As the sun was setting behind Mount Everest, we
were treated to a glorious view. The ring of clouds that
surrounded it were all touched by the bright evening sunlight,
while the mountain itself was in deep shadow except for
great streamers of powdery fresh snow which were being
blown off the whole length of its crests. We stood and
watched this extraordinary sight for some time, devoutly
hoping that the wind would soon die down. Unfortunately
we were soon to experience what a strong wmd meant at
these heights.

On the following night we had 20° of frost, and the
weather appeared to be getting rather more settled. We
were now sufficiently high up to be above the ordinary clouds,
and we could look down upon the great sea of them which
overhung the Arun Valley and the greater part of Nepal.
As the sun warmed the clouds, they used to rise higher,
but they seldom arrived as far as our camp owing to a strong
North-westerly wind always blowing in the upper regions
of the air which drove them back again. Watchmg the
movements of the clouds day by day gave me the impression
that the Mount Everest group forms a dividing Hne between
the two monsoon systems. The monsoon that causes so
much rain in Sikkim comes from the Bay of Bengal, and
these moist currents sweep up to Mount Everest, but it is
only when the current is very strong that they pass beyond
it. At this time of year this monsoon was still active, whereas
the Arabian Sea monsoon — that is to say, the moist
winds from the Arabian Sea — which had given us previously
much rain and snow on the Western sides and slopes of
Mount Everest, was now over, with the result that on the
West side of Everest we had blue skies every day and no
rain clouds, whereas on the East side the clouds and the
moisture brought up by the Bengal monsoon still prevailed.
Dming the course of the morning I climbed an easy hill to

140 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

the East side of the camp and some 500 feet above it. We
walked along at first just below the ice cap, which was very-
pretty with its long icicles gleaming in the sunlight. We
then crossed on to the ice cap and found the snow in excellent
condition, firm and crisp to the tread, so that it was a pleasure
to walk along it. From the top of this hill, 20,500 feet,
was a very fine view to the East, over the great sea of cloud
which filled up all the valleys as far as the Massif of
Kanchenjunga which towered up in the distance, and the
more slender peak of Jannu. Amongst the Sikkim peaks
I could also recognise Chomiomo and the Jonsong peak.
To the South Makalu towered up above all the other
mountains : while between it and Mount Everest, beyond
the Southern watershed of the Kama VaUey, showed up
some of the great Nepalese peaks, among which we noted
Chamlang, 24,000 feet. To the West of us Mount Everest
showed up sharp and clear and very white after all the fresh
snow that had fallen in the last month. From this side
Mount Everest certainly looks its best, standing up as a
solitary peak instead of being rather dwarfed by the high
ridges that radiate from it. The weather remained fine
all day, and it was a real pleasure to sit outside one's tent
and bask in the sun. Though we were 20,000 feet, we had
breakfast, lunch and tea out of doors in front of our tents,
and we could not have been warmer or enjoyed pleasanter
conditions if we had been down at 5,000 feet.

On September 22, leaving Raeburn behind, Mallory,
Bullock, Morshead, Wheeler, WoUaston and myself started
off to Lakhpa La camp. We left the 20,000-foot camp in
22° of frost at four o'clock in the morning, accompanied
by twenty-six coolies, who were divided up into four parties,
each of which was properly roped. It was a beautiful
moonlight night, and the mountains showed up nearly
as brightly as in the daytime. We rapidly descended the
200 feet from our terrace to the glacier, when we all " roped
up." The snow on the glacier was in excellent condition,
and as it was frozen hard we made good progress. Dawn

THE 20,000-rOOT CAMP 141

overtook us on the broad fiat part of the glacier, the first
beams of the sun falling on the summit of Mount Everest,
which lay straight in front of us, and changing the colour
of the snow gradually from pink to orange, all the time
with a background of deep purple sky, every detail showing
up sharp and clear in the frosty air. We mounted gradually
past Kartse, the white conical-shaped peak climbed by
Mallory and Bullock a month ago from the Kama Valley.
We wended our way without much difficulty through the
ice-fall of the glacier, below some superbly fluted snow ridges
that rose straight above us. Then followed a long and at
times a somewhat steep climb over soft powdery snow to
the top of the pass. Even at these heights we came across
tracks in the snow. We were able to pick out tracks of
hares and foxes, but one that at first looked like a human
foot puzzled us considerably. Our coolies at once jumped
to the conclusion that this must be " The Wild Man of the
Snows," to which they gave the name of Metohkangmi,
" the abominable snow man " who interested the newspapers
so much. On my return to civilised countries I read with
interest delightful accounts of the ways and customs of this
wild man whom we were supposed to have met. These
tracks, which caused so much comment, were probably caused
by a large " loping " grey wolf, which in the soft snow formed
double tracks rather like those of a barefooted man. Tibet,
however, is not the only country where there exists a " bogey
man." In Tibet he takes the form of a hairy man who
lives in the snows, and little Tibetan children who are naughty
and disobedient are frightened by wonderful fairy tales
that are told about him. To escape from him they must
run down the hill, as then his long hair falls over his eyes
and he is unable to see them. Many other such tales have
they with which to strike terror into the hearts of bad boys
and girls.

I reached the top of the pass (22,350 feet) by 10.30 a.m.,
and was rewarded by a wonderful view of Mount Everest,
now only a couple of miles awa3\ From the pass there

142 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

was a steep descent of about 1,200 feet to a glacier which
after many wanderings finds its way into the Rongbuk
Glacier. This valley had never been thoroughly investigated
by MaUory and Bullock in their visit to the Rongbuk VaUey.
It does not, however, actually form the main Rongbuk
Glacier, but stops several miles short of it, the entrance
to the vaUey containing this huge glacier being both small
and very insignificant. The bad weather that they had
experienced in the Rongbuk VaUey during the latter half
of their stay there had made it impossible for Mallory and
Bullock to explore this vaUey, or see what lay at its head.
We were now opposite the Chang La (North Col) which
joins Mount Everest to Changtse (the North peak), and
from this col was, so far as we were able to judge, the only
route to the summit. The way from the glacier up to the
Chang La looked steep and unpromising, and we doubted
whether it would be possible to take laden coolies up, even
to this point. I took as many photographs as I could, and
as quickly as possible, for there was an icy wind blowing
which almost froze my hands. This wind blew the fine
powdery snow off all the crests of the ridges and it penetrated
everywhere. We found a little hollow in the snow a few
feet below the crest, and here we set to work to pitch our
camp. There was not much shelter, but it was the only
possible place. We had only brought small Alpine Meade
and Mummery tents with us. Two of us occupied each
tent. They were very small and uncomfortable, and in
order to enter them we had to crawl through a narrow funnel
almost as though we were entering a dog kennel. The
effort of crawling in was very exhausting and caused us to
remain out of breath for a considerable time afterwards.
Even these small tents were with difficulty pitched owing
to the strong winds : cooking was quite out of the question
until dark when the wind temporarily lulled. We had
brought up with us some Primus stoves and spirit lamps.
No one, except perhaps Wheeler, was very expert with the
Primus stove, and though no doubt under favourable con-

THE 20,000-FOOT CAMP 143

ditions they would be easy to work, even at these heights,
we were never very successful with them and were forced
to rely upon the spirit stoves. After sunset we had a scratch
meal of consomme, which we managed to warm up, followed
by some cold ham and biscuits, after which we retired to
bed. The moment the sun went down there were 25° of
frost. Up till now I had felt no ill-effects from the rarefied
air ; I had not even had a headache and my appetite was
good, though I owned to feeling rather lazy and it always
needed an effort to concentrate one's thoughts. The coolies
who had accompanied us up to this camp all seemed to be
well and were very cheerful. The eiderdown sleeping-bags
were a great comfort ; they were our only means of keeping
thoroughly warm with 34° of frost outside. But I cannot
say that I felt comfortable or, in fact, that I slept at all,
as the snow which at most times had been much too soft,
seemed here to freeze into uncomfortable lumps and bumps
underneath one's back, so that I could never get comfortable
all night. The wind howled round our flimsy tents, and I
do not think anyone, except perhaps Mallory, got any sleep
that night. In the morning we were all suffering from bad
headaches, due to the airlessness of these little tents, and
I am sure that anyone camping at high altitudes ought to
have a much larger type of tent in which to sleep if he is to
avoid headaches. We blessed the early morning sun when
it appeared and began to unfreeze us. I noticed then that
our faces and hands were all a curious blue colour in the
morning, due to what is called, I believe, cyanosis of the
blood. With much difficulty Wheeler made us a little tea,
which if not drunk at once, froze ; Mallory thawed out some
sardines which had all been frozen soHd. There was luckily
less wind than during the night, and as the sun rose higher,
we all became more alive. The coolies, too, were at first
all torpid and complained of bad headaches, but on getting
into the fresh air, out of their small and stuffy tents, the
headaches rapidly passed away. After consultation, we
decided that there was no object — in fact, that it would

144 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

be dangerous — for the whole party to go on, so we decided
that it would be best for the expert Alpine climbers only,
together with a few picked cooHes, to attempt the Chang La.
If weather conditions were favourable, they might, we
thought, see how high they could get on Mount Everest
itself. We therefore quickly sorted out and divided up the
stores, and after seeing Mallory, Bullock and Wheeler off,
unpitched our own tents, being satisfied that we could be
of no use by remaining where we were, and that it would
be best that we should return to our 20,000-foot camp and
carry down with us as many stores as we could. We
accomplished this without any difficulty, and arrived back
during the course of the afternoon. The contrast here
was extraordinary. We seemed to be in a totally different
climate, and our larger tents and camp beds appeared to
us to be the height of luxury. We spent a very comfortable
night in spite of 22° of frost, and all slept soundly after our
exertions, though once or twice during the night I was
awakened by rats gnawing at the food which had been left
out on the boxes in my tent. One of the coolies also started
to say his prayers in a loud tone of voice at 1 a.m., but after
a few winged words he relapsed into silence.

The next day was delightfully warm and sunny, though
there had been during the night a good deal of Hghtning
towards the South. The snow could be seen whirling off
the crest of Mount Everest during the morning, and in the
course of the afternoon the wind grew much stronger, and
blew huge clouds of snow off the slopes of the mountain,
and from all the surrounding ridges. We could see great
wisps of snow being blown off the pass that we had just
left, so that the climbing party must have been having a
very cold time in their new camp. In the evening there
was a curious false sunset in the East with fine purple and
orange rays, while as usual the Kama and the Kharta Valleys
were filled with a sea of cloud. Here, however, we seemed
to be above and beyond the reach of the clouds. Next
night there was again constant lightning to the South and

THE 20,000-rOOT CAMP 145

23° of frost, but the weather kept fine and sunny. On
climbing a snow-covered hill to the West of the camp, about
21,000 feet, I had some superb views of Everest and Makalu
with their appalling cliffs and beautifully-fluted snow slopes.
A strong North-westerly gale still continued in the upper
regions of the air above 22,000 feet, and every ridge of Everest
was smothered with clouds of blown snow. I had a pleasant
glissade down steep snow slopes back to the camp, where
the climate was delicious and where I could bask in the
sun at the entrance of my tent with a sun temperature of
173° Fahr. Earlier in the season we had often recorded
temperatures of 195° and 197° Fahr. in the sun with the
black bulb thermometer. During the afternoon we were
able with our glasses to see black specks appearing on the
top of the Lhakpa La. These were the Alpine climbers
and their coolies returning after their strenuous efforts on
Mount Everest. We watched them with the greatest interest
descending the glacier and wondered how far they had been
successful. They all arrived back safely in the course of
the evening, having been extraordinarily lucky in not having
had any casualties or frost-bites in spite of the Arctic gales.
Mallory will, however, tell of their adventures in another
chapter.

M.E.

CHAPTER IX

THE RETURN TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA

VALLEY

Winter was now rapidly approaching. Every night
was growing steadily colder, and we were all anxious to
get down to lower altitudes. Every one had been feelmg
the strain of life at these high altitudes. It had been,
however, a great relief to us that all the party had got back
to the 20,000-foot camp in safety, and that we had had no
cases of siclaiess or frost-bite. The coolies had throughout
worked most willingly and to the best of their ability. They
had been well supplied with boots and socks, warm clothing
of aU kinds, cap comforters and fur gloves, as weU as
blankets, and for those who had slept at the higher camps,
eiderdown sleeping-bags had been provided capable of holding
four or five. Here at the 20,000-foot camp we did not have
to depend on Primus stoves or spirit lamps, as while we
were waiting at the advanced base camp we had daily sent
up coolies with loads of wood for our future use, and even
during our stay here the coolies who had been left behind
under Gyalzen Kazi had been sending up further loads.
We now divided our party into two : Mallory, Bullock,
Raeburn and Morshead were to be responsible for taking
all the stores back to Kliarta, and for this purpose we had
arranged with Chheten Wangdi and the Kharta Jongpen
for a number of Tibetan coolies to help in the work of removal.
The remainder of us, that is to say, Wollaston, Wheeler
and myself, were to cross over a snow pass and return to
Kharta via the Kama Valley. Wheeler was anxious to do
this in order to complete his survey work, for up till now
he had been unable to visit the Kama Valley. Wollaston

146

TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 147

had already seen the lower parts of the Kama Valley, but
was very anxious to see the upper end, particularly after
my descriptions of the scenery and the Alpine flowers that
were to be met with there.

On September 26 the two parties started off in different
directions. Taking with us fifteen coolies, all pretty heavily
laden, we descended to the great Kharta Glacier, which
it was necessary for us to cross. We were not at all certain
as to the conditions we were likely to meet with on the
other side of the pass. The climb from the Kharta Glacier
to the Karpo La, 20,300 feet, was quite gentle, though the
snow was very soft and powdery. On the North side of
the pass we found the slopes to be a snow-covered glacier,
but on the South ^iHc there was a very steep rocky descent
which had to be faced. From the top of the pass we had a
remarkably fine view into the Kama VaUey which lay below
us. Makalu, Pethangtse and Everest stood up clear above
the clouds which floated along the bottom of the Kama
VaUey. Across the gaps between these peaks wo could see
other snow ranges in Nepal. Here at the top Ji the pass
we were luckily just sheltered from the North-west and
the gale, but on either side of us snow was being blown off
the mountains in long white streamers. Our descent was
down a very steep rocky rib. We began by roping ourselves
together, but the coolies were all of them heavily laden
and were, moreover, very clumsy on the rope, sending down
so many loose stones that I found my position as foremost
man quite untenable owing to the amount of debris and
rocks which were dislodged above me. We therefore unroped,
and Wollaston lowered the coolies one by one over the
steepest part — a somewhat long proceeding — after which
they were able independently to make their way down to
the glacier below without mishap. We now put on the rope
again, and so crossed the easy glacier which led down to
the moraine on which I had been two months before.
Wheeler branched off here and took up a position on one
of the ridges. Here he found the gale very troublesome.

148 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

his theodolite being nearly blown over several times. He
managed, however, to take a number of readings and to
get a good many photographs — sufficient to map the whole
of the upper part of the Kama Valley. All that day the
gale continued above 20,000 feet. Below this the valley
was filled with clouds, over which at first we had magnificent
views. As soon as we descended into the valley, we
gradually became enveloped in the autumn mists, which
lasted aU the remainder of the way to Pethang Ringmo.
This was the place where I had met the yak herds two
months before when they were pasturing their yaks on the
grassy uplands. They had left the place, and we were
therefore no longer able to draw on them for butter and
milk. I had, however, arranged for Wheeler's fat cook
to be sent up from Kharta to this place to meet us and to
bring with him some fresh meat and vegetables. These
we found on arrival, the fat cook having only arrived an
hour before. We all of us slept that night much better than
we had been doing at the higher camps, and though even
down here we had 14° of frost, I was delighted to find that
my boots were not frozen as hard as nails, as they had been
all the last week.

From this camp I determined to attempt an expedition
which I had long desired to make. My ambition was to
reach the ridge between Makalu and Everest, and from
it to have a look right down into Nepal. MaUory and
Bullock did not much encourage me in my project, and
doubted whether it could be accomplished within the short
time which was now available. I decided, nevertheless,
to make the attempt. On the night of the 26th all our
servants overslept themselves, and I had some difficulty
in waking them next morning. We succeeded, however,
after a hurried breakfast in making a start at 5.45 a.m.,
just as the first sunlight was touching the highest peak
of Mount Everest. It was a most perfect autumn morning,
without a cloud in the sky and with the ground underfoot
white with hoar-frost. After going a mile up the valley,

TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 149

we had to cross the Kangshung Glacier — here about a
mile wide and consisting of a great mass of ice hummocks,
often 100 feet or more in height, mostly covered with
boulders, with the ice showing every now and then below
us in curious caverns and lakes. It took us an hour to cross
this glacier, as the walking was very tiring up and down
hill over loose stones all the time ; luckily, however, many
of the stones were frozen to the ice, which made the crossing
easier than it might have been later in the day. We then
climbed on to a spur, over 19,000 feet, which jutted out
into the valley. From this we had marvellous views right
away to Kanchenjunga in the East. On the opposite side
Mount Everest stood out with every detail showing clearly
in the autumn sunshine. Above us towered the perpendicular
cliffs of Chomolonzo, opening out into a most astonishing
series of peaks, the existence of which we had never suspected
when looking at the mountain from the valley below. For
once in a way the air was drier and the valleys below were
not filled with cloud, so there was a prospect of our having
clear views all day. Wheeler had come a short way along
the ridge until he got a good view-point, when he stopped
to set up his theodolite and camera for a station, after which
he came along no further. I followed the crest of the ridge
as far as I could, finding it at times very difficult and rocky
and having to make many detours to get along. A descent
of about 500 feet was followed by a climb of another 1,000 feet,
at the end of which we found ourselves exactly opposite
to the great amphitheatre of granite formed by Chomolonzo
and Makalu and facing Westwards. So steep were these
great white granite cliffs that no snow lodged on them.
Above them were other cliffs of ice with rather gentler slopes ;
at their feet was a great glacier that filled up the whole of
this basin and then swept down till it almost joined the
Kangshung Glacier. I had taken with me as usual Ang Tenze
and Nyima Tendu, the two coolies who always accompanied
me, each of them carrjring a camera. We now came to a
glacier which it was necessary to cross, and therefore roped

150 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

up once more. The snow hy this time had become rather
soft, and we were constantly breaking through the crust.
The glare and heat of the sun on this glacier were very
intense, and both Nyima and I were feehng very limp from
the heat. Ang Tenze was extraordinarily active and did
not seem to mind heat or height — a quite exceptionally
gifted mountaineer. Having successfully crossed the glacier,
we left the soft snow and found our way over some easy
rocks and eventually reached the top of the ridge for which
we were making, at a height of about 21,500 feet, and some
500 feet above the snow-covered pass to the East of us.
From the top of the ridge we had a most glorious view
looking across range upon range of snowy mountains in
Nepal. Immediately below us was a large snow " neve,"
towards which glaciers descended from a number of snow-
covered peaks. From this neve a great glacier swept round
towards the Southern side of Makalu, apparently descending
into a valley that ran parallel to the Kama Valley and on
the South side of Makalu. Chamlang and other snow peaks
to the South showed up very clearly, covered with snow and
ice to very much lower elevations than any mountain on
the North side of the Himalayas. On either side of us towered
up Makalu and Everest, but seen from this point the huge
cliffs of Chomolonzo presented by far the most astounding
sight. From here I could see a few thousand feet of the
Southern slopes of Mount Everest which we had been unable
to see from any other point before. From the angle at which
I saw them these appeared very steep, and even if it were
possible and permissible to go into Nepal, it seems improbable
that a practicable route lies up that face of the mountain.
I spent a couple of hours up here taking photographs, enjoying
the views, and eating my lunch in comfort, for the sun was
hot and for once in a way there was no wind. To the South-
west of us, across the neve, there appeared to be another
easy pass which seemed to lead round to the South of Mount
Everest, and Ang Tenze, who came from the Khombu Valley,
said that he thought that he recognised some of the mountain

Chomoi.onzo.
from the alp below the Langma La, Kama \'alley.

TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 151

tops that he saw over this, and that if we crossed this pass,
we should eventually descend into the Khombu Valley.
He also told me that there were stories that once upon a
time there was a pass from the Khombu Valley into the
Kama Valley, and that this was probably the pass in question,
but that it had been disused for a great number of years.
To support his theory we found on the way down a kind of
shelter built of stones and some pieces of juniper hidden
under a big rock. This would have been too high up for
any yak herds to camp, as it was above the grazing pastures,
and seemed to prove that the spot might have been used as
a halting-place for smugglers or people fleeing from the law
before they crossed these passes. It had taken us six and a
half hours from camp to get up to the top of this pass ; and
we had had no halts on the way beyond what were necessary
to take photographs. The downward journey took us four
hours. We tried another way by the side of the Makalu
Glacier, desiring thereby to avoid the tiresome and rather
difficult bit along the top of the ridge. This short cut proved,
however, to be still more trying and wearisome. From the
cliffs above there had been great rock falls dowTi to the edge
of the glacier, and for a couple of miles we had to jump from
boulder to boulder and to clamber either up or down the
whole time. There was still the Kangshung Glacier to cross,
with more up and down hill work, the stones being much
looser and more inclined to slip under foot than they were
in the morning. Eventually we reached camp, just before
dark, and feeling very tired. A cup of tea, however, with
a little brandy in it, completely removed all fatigue.
Wollaston had been able during the day to get some beautiful
photographs of the snow-powdered cliffs of Chomolonzo,
and also some interesting ones of the Kangshung Glacier.
Besides these he had been able to collect a number of seeds.
It is astonishmg how quickly at these heights seeds ripen,
and how short a time it is after flowering that they are fit
for pickuig.

We had been very lucky in getting such a perfect day

152 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

in the Kama Valley, for fine days there were very few.
After our one perfect day the weather changed again, and
for the next three days we descended the Kama Valley
in sleet and snow. The first morning our march was only
to our old camp at Tangsham on a glacial terrace 1,000
feet above the vaUey. At first Everest was clear and all
the mountains to the West, but heavy clouds came roUing
up from the South-east and soon enveloped everything.
On the way I managed to collect for WoUaston a number of
the seeds of that lovely blue primula which I had found in
flower here in August. I shot, too, a common snipe, which
I was very surprised to meet at these altitudes. I flushed
him beside a small spring close to the camp. During the
afternoon it snowed and sleeted, and Wheeler came in very
tired in the evening after having spent the whole of the day
on a prominent peak, from which he had been unable to get
a single photograph or to take any bearings. In spite of the
snow that evening we had a cheery bonfire of juniper, willow
and rhododendron. The next morning, though we were
down at 15,000 feet, there were a couple of inches of fresh
snow on the ground. The weather at first was very misty,
and we had no views at aU. We soon, however, descended
below the snow, and the autumnal colours in the valley
began to show. On the opposite side of it below the great
black cliffs, the bushes were all shades of brown and gold.
In the forests the rose bushes had turned a briUiant red,
and the mountain ash showed every shade of scarlet and
crimson, contrasting well with the shiny dark green leaves
of the rhododendron. The golden colours of the birch and
the dark junipers also made a beautiful combination of colour.
Rain set in again steadily, and as snow was falling on
the " field of marigolds" where we had intended to camp,
we pitched our tents in the midst of a huge rock-fall — 1,000
feet lower down. Our coolies did not pitch any tents for
themselves, but preferred to scatter in twos and threes
and to camp under the overhanging rocks which they found
apparently warmer and more comfortable than the tents.

TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 153

There had been a wonderful growth of vegetation among
these huge boulders, many of them 40 feet to 50 feet in
height, which had come down from the cliffs above. Wollaston
and I spent most of the afternoon pottering round and
collecting seeds of plants of different kinds. The next
morning we had trouble in getting hold of the coolies ; they
were scattered among the rocks, and in spite of shouts,
refused to budge until I went round with a big stick and
poked them out of their holes. I crossed the Shao La in
thick mist, though Wollaston and Wheeler, who came along
an hour behind, had some beautiful glimpses of Makalu
in the clouds and were able to get some photographs. After
crossing the pass, we descended past several beautiful lakes
and arrived in fine weather at Kharta in the afternoon.
The autumn tints on the way down were again very beautiful,
and most of the crops had aheady been gathered in. Mallory
and Bullock had, we found, left Kharta, being in a great
hurry to get back to civihsation again.

It was September 30 when we reached Kharta. We had
now finished our reconnaissance. We had investigated
all the valleys to the West, North-west, North, North-east
and East of the mountain, and had eventually found that
there was only one possible route of approach to the summit.
The bad weather and the furious North-westerly gales had
prevented our attaining any great height this year. The
rainy season had begun some three weeks later than usual.
The rains, they told us, had been much heavier than in
most years in Tibet, and the wet season had lasted until
very nearly the end of September, after which time a period
of gales set in which made climbmg at heights above 23,000
feet a physical impossibility. Undoubtedly the best time
to try and climb the mountain would be before the monsoon
breaks in May or early June. It might be possible, if the
monsoon happened to end by the beginning of September,
to taclde the mountain early in September, but after the
middle of that month the chances of doing any good grow
steadily weaker and the cold increases with great rapidity.

154 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

Whether it wiU be possible in any conditions to reach the
summit I am very doubtful. We, however, had never
intended to make a sustained effort to reach the top in
1921. The reconnaissance of the mountain and its approaches
afforded us indeed no time to make such an effort, and we
felt bound to investigate every valley that led up to it.
The Everest Committee had already before we left for India
in 1921 decided to send out a second Expedition in the
following year, for the express purpose of climbing Mount
Everest, and for this purpose had already then promised
the leadership to Brig. -General C. G. Bruce, whose unrivalled
knowledge of climbing and climatic conditions in the
Himalayas specially fitted him for the work. Whether
the task is capable of accomplishment I will not attempt
to say, though I should think the chances are on the whole
against success. If Mount Everest were 6,000, or even
5,000 feet lower, I think there can be no doubt that it could
be climbed. There are no physical difficulties in the shape
of the mountain which prevent it being climbed — the
difficulties are all connected with its altitude. If the snow
is soft and powdery, and the conditions are such as we met
with so often ; or if, again, there is difficult rock climbing
in the last 2,000 or 3,000 feet of the climb, I do not think
the summit will be reached. I cannot say what the effect
will be if oxygen is taken to aid the human effort. I only
know that cylinders of oxygen are very uncomfortable and
heavy to carry, and that to wear a mask over the mouth
and to chmb so equipped would not seem to be very feasible
or pleasant. Living at great heights, and trying to sleep
at great heights, lowers the vitality enormously. Larger
tents than those with which we were supplied might well
be taken in order to prevent the depressing headaches that
follow from sleeping in a confined and airless space. Among
minor discomforts which count for much may be mentioned
the difficulty of preparing good warm food, and for this
purpose a coolie should be trained in cooking and in the use
of the " Primus " and spirit stoves. This coolie should be

TO KHARTA BY THE KAMA VALLEY 155

a man accustomed to great heights, and he should accompany
the party up to the highest camps in order to avoid the
difficulties we had in connection with the preparation of
our food and then having to live on such makeshifts as
sardines and biscuits. I never lost my appetite at heights
over 20,000 feet — I was always able to eat well, though not
everything appealed to the palate. Sweet things were
especially wanted. That it is possible to acclimatise the
system to live at heights is true, but only to a certain extent —
up to about 18,000 feet we could acclimatise ourselves very
comfortably, and I know in my own case that after six months'
living in Tibet, I was able to do far more than when I first
came into the country, but at greater heights I think a
prolonged stay permanently lowers the vitality. Sleeplessness
is another great enemy at heights, and most of the party
I found slept very poorly at the highest camp. Mallory,
I think, was the only exception. It ought to be possible to
pick out a few coolies capable of carrying loads able to go
as far as any European can get. Some of them seem to
feel the height much less than others, and I believe that an
unladen native would be able to go much higher if he had
the knowledge of ice and snow that Alpine climbers have,
and would not improbably reach a greater height than
any European. Twenty-nine thousand feet is, however, a
tremendous height for anyone to attain, and I own that I
am not at all sanguine that the summit will be reached,
though I have no doubt that this year will see the Duke of
the Abruzzi's record of 24,600 broken, and I shall not
be at all surprised to see a height of 25,000 or 26,000 feet
arrived at.

CHAPTER X

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI

Autumn had already come to Kharta. The willows
and the poplars under which we were camped were fast
shedding their leaves, which rustled on the ground, or blew
into our tents, a warning that winter was not far off. Even
here there were one or two degrees of frost every night. The
days, however, were still warm and sunny. The next five
days were fully occupied with strenuous work. Wheeler
and I took alternate mornings and afternoons in the dark
room. We had each taken a large number of photographs
during the past month. These had to be developed before
we started on our return journey to Darjeeling, and this
would be our last opportunity. An account of our last
month's doings and our final reconnaissance had to be written
out for The Times, and this, together with many other letters,
had to be sent off to Phari as soon as possible. Our stores,
tents, Alpine equipment, had all to be collected and sorted
out. Lists had to be made of all of them, and most of them
had to be re-packed. The coolies were perpetually worrying
us for money and advances of pay in order that they might
be able to buy Tibetan clothing, or have money which they
could spend on drink at KJiarta, where it was apparently
very cheap. Our cook and most of the coohes used constantly
to return to camp in the evening blind drunk, and I had to
see that the cook was never allowed near the kitchen under
these conditions. On such an occasion my servant. Poo,
would have to do the cooking in his place. The chang, or
barley beer, that they got must have been a much stronger
brew than what was given to us, as what we had did not

156

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 157

appear intoxicating at all, but the interpreters told us that
cooUe beer was double strength.

The Jongpen was rather sad as the moment of our
departure drew near. We invited him to lunch one day,
and he seemed to appreciate the beauties of Scotch whisky,
which he said was very much better than his own chang.
We had to pay him a return visit the following day, when
he gave us a great spread. Knowing that we were anxious
to collect such curios as were available, he produced all
kinds of things for our inspection. I bought from him a
curious old Tibetan musket, elaborately decorated with
silver, and fitted with a pair of antelope horns on which to
rest it when firing. Some interesting copper and silver
teapots we were also able to get from him, and I remember
his showing Wollaston many pieces of finely embroidered
Chinese silk. Both Hopaphema and the Jongpen had a
very good idea of the value of money, and were not at all
afraid of asking a stiff price for any of the curios which
they produced. We managed, however, to pick up some
interesting Chinese snuS bottles of carved agate, some with
pictures painted inside. Cliina cups of the Chienlung and
Kanghe periods we were also able to get ; there were, however,
many things in the monasteries which we rather coveted,
but which the Lamas would not sell. Their tables were very
ornamentally carved with dragons and weird designs, all
painted over in brilhant colours. The Jongpen had one
such table, but unfortunately I found out that he had only
borrowed it from the nearest monastery for the purpose of
entertaining us, and therefore he could not sell it. We left
behind us a good many stores which it was not worth while
to bring along. Among them was a lot of acid hypo-sulphite
of soda, which the Jongpen at once seized upon, and which
he said he intended to make use of in washing his clothes,
knowing that soda was used occasionally for this purpose. The
Jongpen, of whom we had taken many photographs, and
who had seen the results, was anxious to buy one of our
cameras, and to develop and print everything himself. He

158 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

imagined the whole process was very easy, and was extremely
anxious to get hold of one of the Expedition's cameras, but
we had to disappoint him in this. Nothing small would
content him — he wanted the biggest of the lot, and was quite
willing to exchange a sword or any other weapon for a camera.
We, however, left behind with him three pairs of skis, which
we had brought out with us, but which had never been
unpacked. These skis had throughout our journeys been
looked upon by the Tibetans with the greatest interest.
They had heard about flying machmes, and they thought
that these were the framework of a flying machine which
we had brought with us, and on which we intended to
fly to the top of the mountains. Wherever we arrived
there was always a great crowd assembled round these skis,
discussing the various methods by which they could be put
together and describing how the white man would then fly.
I left them with the Jongpen and told him that they were
very good exercise for him in the winter time, when the snow
was deep, and that if he wanted to reduce his weight, which
was already considerable, there could be no better method
than by making use of them in the snow.

At last, on October 5, we managed to leave Kharta.
There were no pack animals available ; we had therefore
to make use of coolies for our transport for the first march ;
it took 140 of them to carry aU our loads. For some time
the scene of confusion was very amusing. The Jongpen
himself came down, and it was only owing to his help that
by mid-day we got all the loads sorted out and put on the
backs of the coolies. Before he was able to do this he had
to have recourse to the system of drawing lots by putting
garters on each load, a system which I have aheady described
in a previous chapter. Before we left, the Jongpen and
Hopaphema brought us presents of sheep and vegetables,
and they and all the people of the valley seemed genuinely
sorry that we were departing. Throughout our long stay
at Kharta they had been most helpful and had done every-
thing they could for our comfort. They were both of them

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 159

very human, with a dehghtful sense of humour, and we
quickly became great friends. It was with much regret that
we turned our backs on Kharta.

We started off without a cloud in the sky, but with a
strong South wind blowing. High up on the mountains we
could see the snow still being blown off in white clouds. Our
route lay up the valley of the Bhong-chu for about 10 miles
until the river suddenly turned to the East to go through a
deep and impassable gorge. We had then to follow the
valley of the Zachar-chu for 4 miles to Lumeh, where we
camped beside the great poplar trees. The bridge by which
we had crossed the Zachar-chu in July no longer existed.
It had been washed away in August^ but now that the snows
were no longer melting higher up, and the rainy season was
over, the river was very much lower, and it was possible to
ford it. The people at Lumeh were very pleased to see us
again ; we found tents pitched and food prepared for our
reception. From here there were two routes open to us.
We could either, by crossing two passes, drop down to Tsogo
in the valley of the Bhong-chu, and after fording the river
there, follow our previous route (of the outward journey) to
Tingri, or we could cross a small pass just above Lumeh,
meeting the Bhong-chu again immediately above the gorge,
where there was a bridge across it. We chose the latter
route, as it was probably a couple of days shorter and would
take us through new country. On leaving Lumeh, for the
first time for several days we had a cloudy morning, which
was unfortunate, as from the top of the Quiok (Cuckoo Pass)
we had hoped for a fine view. Our transport to-day consisted
of yaks and donkeys, which came along very well. There
was a steep climb of 2,000 feet to the top of the pass, 15,000
feet, where we just managed to get a gUmpse of Makalu in
the clouds, but Everest was hidden. We thought that this
would be our last chance of a view of the Everest and Makalu
group, but it turned out not to be so. By going over this pass
we had avoided the curious and impassable gorge by which
the Bhong-chu cuts through a high range of mountains.

160 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

It was only a little over 6 miles to the famous rope bridge
at Gadompa. I could not help laughing when I first saw
the bridge. It was such a comical, ramshackle-looking
affair, and everything about it seemed torn and ragged and
uneven. Two crooked wooden posts set up in piles of stones
supported the ropes of raw hide which spanned the river.
During the rainy season one of these posts and aU the ropes
had been buried deep under the water, but now that the
river had dropped over 10 feet, the posts were out of the
water. Between these two wooden posts were three raw
hide ropes, very frail and much frayed, and looking as though
they might break at any moment. On these ropes was laid
a semi-circular piece of wood, like the framework of a saddle,
to which were attached two leather thongs. The person
or bale of goods that had to be puUed across was tied by
these two thongs to the framework, and this was allowed to
sHde rapidly with its load down to the point at which the
" bridge " sagged most — somewhere about the middle of
the river — which here rushed along in a formidable rapid.
If the Tibetans on the far side failed to pull up the passenger
or load and he or it was left for a minute, either would cer-
tainly get the fuU benefit of one of the ice-cold waves of the
rapids and get thoroughly soaked before reaching the far
side. The Tibetans had great fun mth our cooHes in transit,
and very few of them were allowed to get over dry. The
villages on either side are exempt from the duty of producing
transport, and have instead to make themselves responsible
for working the bridge. On one side the operators were
all women and on the other all men. It took an average of
five minutes to get each load or person across, and we spent
twelve hours before we got all our loads over. For part of
the time I superintended while Wheeler went to get some
dinner, and after dinner, owing to there being a certain
amount of moonlight, Wheeler carried on until the last
load was brought over at midnight. It was a very chiUy
proceeding, as the wind blew very cold, with a suspicion
of snow every now and then. It was a weird experience to

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 161

see the loads of baggage suddenly appearing out of the
darkness and then being unloaded and transferred to the
yaks, who apparently were able to find their way about in
the dark. We got everything over in safety without losing
anything except a few eggs, which I saw drop out during
the passage across, and I felt very much relieved that we
had had no accident.

That night we camped in a pleasant willow grove at the
village of Kharkhung. In the morning we awoke to find
fresh snow on the ground, but this speedily disappeared
when the sun came out. Our new transport consisted of
donkeys and some very wild yaks, which rapidly got rid
of their loads. The march was only a short one of about
12 miles up the valley of the Bhong-chu. The valley was
uninteresting and stony, with practically no undergrowth,
and we eventually camped in a windy spot near the village
of Lashar, nearly opposite to the sandy camp at Shiling
where we had halted on our outward journey after crossing
the quicksands. The night proved much colder here, with
18° of frost, but the wind luckily died do^Ti and the next
morning was beautiful. We continued up the sandy valley
of the Bhong-chu, which is here several miles wide, until
we came to its junction with the Yarn, where we regained
the route which we had followed on the outward journey.
Just before leaving the main valley we found, on looking
behind us, that we were in full sight of Mount Everest and
its great South-eastern ridge, and also of the Lhakpa La
where we had camped. This was our final view of Mount
Everest, and knowing the geography of these peaks as we
now did, this view gave us an added interest in them. We
had cHmbed slowly and had not reahsed the great height
which we had reached or the conspicuous position of our
camp on the Lhakpa La which we now saw sharply defined
against the horizon from a distance of 50 miles.

We rode up the gorge of the Yarn, and at the village of
Rongme we met the Phari Jongpen's brother. He was
busy collecting the harvest rents, which are a fixed percentage

M.E. M

162 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

of the crops. I gave him some of the photographs that I
had taken of him and his house on the way up and very soon
after a big crowd collected around. The Tibetans are very
quick at recognising persons in a photograph, and they at
once picked out all the people by name in a group. I then rode
on past his house to the viUage of Shatog, where we camped.
On the way I shot a couple of snipe and also saw a number
of teal, wild geese and kulan (grey crane), but they were
very ^dld and I could not get near enough for a shot. Heron
joined us here. He had been exploring some of the valleys
to the North, but had found nothing interesting or remark-
able, geologically, and he accompanied us back as far as
Khamba Dzong. We were anxious to push on as fast as
possible, and determined to do a double march from here
to Tinld Dzong, which our transport drivers said they could
do quite easily. We started on a beautiful day after a sharp
frost at night, causing many of the ponds to be frozen over.
We crossed the broad swampy plain to Chushar. Wheeler,
going on ahead at first, had a shot at some geese, but did not
succeed in getting anything. We crossed the Yaru River
by a very deep ford, and then kept along the North side of
it, past numerous ponds on which were swimming many
bar-headed geese ; these were, however, very wily and would
not allow us to approach within shot. We now had a steep
3,000-foot climb to the Tinki Pass. On the way up I came
across some partridges ; they were terrible runners, but
after a good chase I managed to collect two. They turned
out to be the ordinary Tibetan partridge {Perdrix hodgsonice).
I then rode on down to Tinki, to which place I had sent on
Chheten Wangdi in order to make arrangements for our
reception and to have transport ready for us on the following
day. The two Jongpens rode out to meet us ; the elder
of the two had been at Tinki when we passed through on
the way out, but the other one I had not seen before as he
had been away. I had very pleasant recollections of our
reception there before, and was delighted to see the elder
Jongpen, who was a most pleasant and agreeable gentleman.

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 163

They presented us with a couple of hundred eggs, rice and
some grain for the ponies, and had tents already pitched for
us under the walls of the fort. Here the Jongpens came
and sat talking with us for a long time. Our transport
showed no signs of turning up, so we were very glad to make
our dinner off the rice and eggs that had been given us.
The bulk of the transport did not arrive till midnight. They
had made every effort to stop at Chushar, and it was with
great difficulty that Gyalzen Kazi had induced them to go
on. The animal which was carrying Wheeler's kit died on
the way, and his bedding did not arrive till noon the follo\\dng
day, another animal having been sent to bring it in. I had
had my maximum and minimum thermometers exposed as
usual under the fly of my tent, but during the night some
wretch came and stole them. What good they could have
been to him I cannot imagine, but it was very annoying
and I hope he will drink the mercury. The weather had
now changed again for the worse : all day there were heavy
snow showers with snow falling on the mountains around
and preventing any views. The march was only a short
one to Lingga. The wild birds in the lake beside the
fort were as tame as ever, the Brahminy ducks (ruddy
sheldrake) almost waddling into our tents and not paying
the sUghtest attention to us. On the water were swimming
about thousands of duck, bar-headed geese and teal which
the Jongpen's little dog used to have great fun in chasing.
We were not able to follow our former route from Tinki to
Lingga as the country had altered considerably. Most of
the plain was now a broad lake several miles long, and we
had to follow the North side of the water along the foot of
the hills. On these big lakes were many duck, but they
were very wild. I managed on the way, however, to shoot
two bar-headed geese, a couple of Gargany teal and a pochard,
which proved a very welcome addition to our bill of fare.
One shot was a most extraordinary one. I was stalkmg some
geese which were getting very restless and starting to fly
away, when just in front of me got up two teal close together.

164 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

I fired at the teal and both fell to my shot, and at the same
time, to my great surprise, a goose, which was in the direct
line of fire, and about 40 yards away, also fell.

We found the people at Lingga busy thrashing. The
thrashing time in Tibet is a favourite one for drinking, and
often the whole village after a day's harvest will be com-
pletely incapacitated as the result of too great an indulgence
in chang. Their thrashing floors consist of an area of about
half an acre of hard beaten earth on which the barley is
spread to a depth of 6 to 8 inches. Fifty or sixty yaks are
then driven into this enclosure, followed by thirty people
or more, beating drums, rattling kerosene oil tins, ringing
bells and shouting and yelling in order to frighten the yaks,
who, tail in air, are driven backwards and forwards over
the barley. This they continue doing until every one is
tired and hoarse, when the whole of the workers, both male
and female, adjourn for a long drink of beer, after which
the same process is repeated.

On October 11 we arrived at Khamba Dzong. We were
having sharp frosts now every night, and the mountains,
both to the North and South of us, were covered low down
with a thick white coating of snow. It was not, however,
unpleasantly cold, and the cloud effects were very beautiful.
On the way I shot two goa — Tibetan gazeUe — with good
heads, and horns over 14 inches long. We had to halt here
in order to rest our coolies. All day to the South there was
a furious storm raging along the Himalayas, and when it
cleared up in the evening there had evidently been a heavy
snowfaU. In the course of the afternoon we put up over
Dr. Kellas's grave the stone which the Jongpen had had
engraved for us during our absence. On it were inscribed
in English and Tibetan characters his initials and the date
of his death, and this marks his last resting-place.

Raeburn, Wheeler and Heron now left us, as they wanted
to return to Darjeeling by the short way over the Serpo La
and down the Teesta Valley. This route is only possible
for small parties ; with all our transport we were unable

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 165

to return that way as the villages on the way and in
the Teesta Valley are small and can supply but very few
animals or coolies. Wollaston and I had therefore to return
to Phari and then to follow the main trade route, along
which it is always possible to pick up any amount of hired
transport. We left Khamba Dzong on October 13 in 20° of
frost. Kanchenjunga and the Everest group were just
visible, but ominous clouds were rapidly coming up. Our march
was the same as on the outward journey to Tatsang (Falcon's
Nest) — a distance of about 21 miles. We rode through the
fine limestone gorge behind the fort, shooting on the way
several Tibetan partridge {Perdrix hodgsonice). On reaching
the top of the pass, I climbed another thousand feet on to
the ridge to the South of the pass, where I had a wonderful
panorama of snowy peaks, both to the South and to the
North. Snow storms appeared to be raging on either side
and the wind was extremely cold. I came across a fine flock
of burhel {Ovis nahura), and had an easy shot at a fine ram,
but missed him hopelessly, and they never gave me another
chance. A little further on I missed a gazelle. On the
plain below were grazing numerous kiang {Equus hemionus),
their reddish- chestnut coats being well shown off by their
white bellies and legs. Their mane appears to be of a
darker colour, which is continued as a narrow stripe down
the back. On the same plain I cculd see also a large flock
of nyan {Ovis Tiodgsoni), all fair-sized rams. I had a long
chase after the latter, but they never allowed me to approach
close to them. Snow began to fall now and a regular
blizzard set in, the fine powdery snow being blown along
the ground into our faces. While riding along in this storm, I
saw two fine nyan which I stalked. My 2-75 rifle was rather
smaU for such a large animal, and though the larger of the
two was badly hit by the first shot, he went off as though
he were untouched and gave me a long chase after him.
It was only possible to get a glimpse of him every now and
then in the bHzzard, and whenever I lay down to try and
get a shot, the fine powdery snow blown along the surface

166 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

of the ground nearly blinded me, so that it took five more
buUets before he finally expired. He was a magnificent
old beast with a grand head and horns, well over 40 inches
in length and of great thickness. The weight of the body
was enormous. I had only Aug Tenze with me. With much
difficulty we cut off the nyan's head and then tried to lift
the carcass, which must have weighed well over 200 lb.,
on to one of the ponies. With the greatest trouble we
eventually managed to get the carcass on to the pony's back,
but the pony seemed gradually to subside on to the ground
under the weight and was quite unable to move. While
we were doing this, my pony took it into his head to run
away, and though we made every attempt, to catch him,
he completely defeated us, and was last seen galloping away
towards his home. I had therefore an 8 mile trudge through
the snow to get back to camp, not arriving there till well
after dark. Five of the coolies went back after dark to get
the meat. They cut off as much as they could carry, and
the remainder had to be left for the nuns, who sent out their
servants to bring it in. I was cheered up, however, by
getting an English mail and many letters. Among these
was one from Sir Charles Bell from Lhasa, who wrote to
ask the Expedition not to do any more shooting in Tibet,
as the Tibetans did not approve of it ; for the remainder of
the time, therefore, the guns had to be put away.

During the night there were 32° of frost, and everything
inside our tents was frozen solid in the morning ; but the
wind luckily died down, and the next day was a most beautiful
one. We knew that there was a long march before us, so
our transport was off by eight o'clock. At Tatsang we
were already 16,000 feet, and we gradually climbed higher,
spending most of the day between 17,000 and 18,000 feet.
For several miles we rode across a snow-covered plain over
which the tops of Pawhunri, Chomiomo, and Kanchenjhow
appeared to the South. As we rose higher, the snow gradually
deepened to 6 inches and made the going very heavy. We
had to cross three spurs of Pawhunri by passes of over

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 167

17,500 feet. Here the snow had been blown by the wind into
drifts over 2 feet deep. We had arranged to camp at a place
called Lunghi, but on our arrival there found that the
nomads, who ordinarily spent the summer there, had already
left and were encamped some 4 miles further down the valley.
In a side valley I found some of their tents where I was able
to warm myself and get some hot milk before moving on
down the valley, where we were told that preparations had
been made to receive us. There was luckily a bright moon
and we rode on down to the spot, where we found some
Tibetan tents which had been pitched for us ; their owners
had, moreover, had the forethought to have great braziers
of cow dung burnmg in these tents. The smell was not
agreeable, but we sat and warmed ourselves, waiting for
our transport, which did not arrive until eleven o'clock that
night. It was a bitterly cold wait, as the wind got up and
blew down the valley with 25° of frost behind it. We were
very glad to see our transport and coolies when they arrived ;
they had really come along very well, as a march of 23 miles
in soft snow and at a great height all the time is no light
feat.

Breakfast the next morning was very comfortless, as
the wind was still blowing with 28° of frost, and everything
— boots and foodstuffs of all kinds — ^was frozen inside our
tents. We looked forward with no little pleasure to finding
ourselves inside once more and sitting in front of a fire out
of the everlasting wind which makes Tibet so trying. The
march was a fairly easy one of about 20 miles over gentle
undulating country until we reached the West side of the
Tang La ; there was, however, a bitterly cold strong South
wind which blew with great violence all day and penetrated
through everything. Many of our coolies had much difficulty
in coming along, as they were suffering from snow blinchiess
and their feet were also very tender from the cold and the
deep snow of the last few days. Chomolhari was a glorious
sight all the way. We were gradually approaching it, and
it seemed to rise directly from the plain in front of us. From

168 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

its summit and from its ridges great streamers of snow were
being blown off and the gale — apparently from the North-
west— still continued. Nearly every day since we left Kharta
we saw along the higher peaks of the Himalayas the snow
being blown off in great wisps, showing that a strong North-
westerly current of air sets in at great heights after the
monsoon is over. After reaching Darjeeling we noticed the
same thing ; every day, from Kanchenjunga and Kabru,
could be seen the same great wisps of wind-blown snow.
That night at Phari we were once more in a bungalow and
out of the wind, and able to spend a very comfortable and
pleasant evening reading our letters and papers in front of
a fire which, though still mostly yak dung, was in a fireplace.
October 16 we spent resting at Phari. Our coolies were
much exhausted by the three days' march from Khamba
Dzong, in which we had covered 65 miles, most of the time
at considerable heights and in deep snow. We had returned
by the short way, which the people of Phari had told us in
the spring was impassable, and over which they would not
go, sending us instead around by the long way to Dochen,
which took us six days instead of three.

Phari is a place unfortunately too near civilisation. The
Tibetans there have lost their good manners, such as we
had been accustomed to meet in the more distant and out-
of-the-way parts of the country. Much trade passes through
the town, and the people there are too weU off. They had
an idea that the Expedition was a kind of milch cow out of
which money could be extracted to their hearts' content.
Of this view we had to disabuse them, and in consequence
found them all very tiresome. The transport turned up
the following morning, but they refused to load up unless they
were paid in full beforehand and at a most exorbitant rate.
This I refused to do, telephoning at the same time to
the trade agent at Yatung. I sent for the Jongpen, and
both Jongpens turned up. I rather imagine that they were
at the bottom of this trouble, for one of them owed the
Expedition some money ; he had also, when forwarding on

THE RETURN JOURNEY TO PHARI 169

stores to us, seized the opportunity to charge five times the
ordinary rate, on the pretext that he had supphed some of
his own mules. After long arguments I eventually induced
them to accept part of the payment, the remainder to be
paid at Yatung, whereupon the Jongpens gave orders for
the animals to be loaded. It was not, however, until the
afternoon that we were able to leave Phari and to start on
our downward march to Yatung.

CHAPTER XI
BACK TO CIVILISATION

When we turned onr backs on Phari and started to
march down the Chumbi Valley, we had left the real Tibet
behind us. I could not somehow look upon the Chumbi
Valley as being a part of Tibet. Its characteristics, its
houses, its people, its vegetation, are all so different from
the greater part of Tibet. There are not the same cold
winds that freeze the very marrow, nor are there the
wide plains and the undulating hills with their extensive
views.

In spite of all discomforts, there is a very great charm
and fascination about travelling in Tibet. Is it partly
because it is an unlmown country, and the unknown is always
fascinating, or is it rather because of the innate beauty of
the country itself, with its landscapes so free from all restraint
and a horizon often 150 to 200 miles distant ? Never
anywhere have I seen a country so full of colour as is Tibet.
There is not enough vegetation to hide the rocks and the
stones. The foreground as well as the distant view is
wonderfully full of colour and variety. Contrasts are one
of the charms of life, and probably in this lies the secret
of the charm and attractiveness of Tibet. It is essentially
a country of contrasts. The climate, above all, has contrasts
of its own. The sun is burningly hot, but in the shade the
cold may be intense. To such a pitch can the extremes
of heat and cold arrive, that a man may suffer from sunstroke
and frost-bite at one and the same time.

The Tibetans themselves are a strong, well-built and
hardy race — Mongolian in type. The women usually put
a mixture of grease and soot on their faces to protect them

170

BACK TO CIVILISATION 171

against the glare of the fresh snow or the biting winds, for
even they, with their thick skins, do not seem to get used
to the severity of the changes. How much more does the
European suffer when he travels in Tibet and seems to need
a fresh skin almost every day. The soot mixture does not
add to the beauty of the women, though I came across some
who were not bad looking. Many of the people are nomads,
living in tents all the year round and moving about from
camj) to camp pasturing their herds of yaks and their flocks
of sheep. It is curious that even in the winter-time they
can find grazing places, but the secret lies in the fact that
the slopes face the South in the regions where the wind
blows strongest, so that the surface is usually bare. The
snowfall in winter in most parts of Tibet is not heavy, and
the climate being so dry, the snow is powdery, and the wind
blows it along and forms great drifts in the hollows, leaving
the exposed slopes usually clear. On these the herds, or
flocks of sheep, obtain sufficient nourishment from such
scattered patches of frozen grass or lichens as they are able
to find. Of all the animals that the Tibetans have, the
yak is the most useful. His long black hair, which reaches
to the ground under his belly, is woven into tents or ropes.
The milk, after they have drunk what they want, is turned
into butter and cheese, of which they produce great
quantities. When old, he is killed and his flesh is dried,
providing meat for a long time. His hide supplies leather
of every kind. It is always used untanned, for no tamiing
is ever done in Tibet and any tanned skins always come
up from India. The yak dung is in many places the only
fuel to be got and is most carefully picked up. To the present
generation of young children the yak is probably famihar
from that delightful rhyme in " The Bad Child's Book of
Beasts " : —

As a friend to the children, commend me the Yak —

You will find it exactly the thing ;
It will carry and fetch, j^ou can ride on its back

Or lead it about with a string.

172 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

The Tartar who dwells on the plains of Tibet,

A desolate region of snow,
Has for centuries made it a nursery pet,

And surely the Tartar should know.

Then tell your papa where the Yak can be got,

And if he is awfully rich,
He will buy you the creature — or else he will not ;

I cannot be positive which.

The traveller in Tibet can easily live on such supplies
as can be drawn from the country. The Tibetan is always
hospitable and will provide sheep, milk, cheese and butter
almost everywhere. Vegetables, however, of any kind are
very scarce, though in the summer a species of spinach can
be got in some places. Living, as the Tibetans do, far away
from aU outside influences, their customs and manners have
not changed, and are the same as they were several hundred
years ago. I can fuUy sympathise with their present desire
for seclusion and their eagerness not to be exploited by
foreigners. They sent a few years ago some young Tibetan
boys to Rugby to be educated in different professions. These
boys have now returned again to Lhasa, and with their aid,
and with the aid of others who are being sent out into the
world to learn, they hope to be able to develop the resources
of their own country at leisure, in their own way, and
by themselves, without being exploited commercially by
foreigners.

The staple food of the Tibetans is tsampa (parched
barley). This is ground up and either milk or tea is added,
forming it into a kind of dough. This is put in a little bag,
which they carry about with them when traveUing, and
is often their only food for several days. Tsampa can be
obtained everywhere in Tibet, though it is easier to get it
in the villages than from the tents of the nomads. Tea
car, of course, be obtained everywhere, and, as I have
described before, is mixed with salt and butter, churned
up with great violence, and then poured into teapots. At
every camp, and at every house, will be met fierce dogs.

BACK TO CIVILISATION 173

These dogs guard the flocks, or the nomad camps, and rather
resemble large collies ; as a rule, they are black and very
fierce. The Tibetans were, however, always very good
in tying them up before we approached their camps. In
many of the houses we found tied up just outside the door
another kind of dog, a huge brute of the mastiff type, always
extremely savage and ready, if he had not been tied up,
to tear the intruder to pieces. The peasants are still treated
as serfs, though only in a mild form. For aU Government
officials, when on tour, they have to supply free transport
and supplies of aU Idnds, so that official visits are not popular.
At first the villagers were afraid that we might follow the
example of the Tibetan officials and were much reUeved
to find that we did not do so.

I cannot leave the subject of Tibet without a few words
about the monasteries. These are divided into two great
schools, the Red Cap School and the Yellow Cap School.
The former was founded by the Buddhist Saint, Padma
Sambhava or Guru Rimpoche, in a.d. 749. They are the
older of the two monastic sects, but their morals are much
looser than those of the Yellow Sect, and the Lamas or monks
of this sect are often married. In one monastery belonging
to the Red Sect near Kharta, the Lamas and their wives
were all living together. The YeUow Cap, or Gelukpa Sect,
was founded in the fifteenth century by Tsong Kapa, who
instituted a very much stricter moral code, and this sect
looks down very much upon the Red Caps. The State
religion of the country is Buddhism. By the middle of
the seventeenth century, after a series of reincarnations,
Nawang Lobsang had made himseK master of Tibet and
transferred his capital to Lhasa. He accepted the title of
Dalai Lama (Ocean of Learning) from the Chinese, hence
the Dalai Lama at Lhasa, by this doctrine of political
reincarnation, has absorbed all the political power in the
country into his own hands, although the Tashi Lama at
Tashilumpo is in theory his senior and superior in spiritual
matters. The old simple creed of the Buddhists can scarcely

174 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

be recognised nowadays and is overlaid with devil worship
in all its forms, supernatural agencies abounding everywhere.
The top of a pass, a mountain, a river, a bridge, a storm ;
each will have its own particular god who is to be worshipped
and propitiated. In many of the larger monasteries, too,
they have oracles who are consulted far and wide and supposed
to be able to foretell the future. These often acquire
considerable power and influence by methods not unlike
those resorted to in ancient Greece. It has been estimated
that a fifth of the whole population of Tibet has entered
monastic life. The conditions probably much resemble
those which prevailed in mediaeval Europe. The monasteries
contain nearly aU the riches of the country. They own
large estates ; they are the source of all learning, and aU
the arts and crafts seem to take their inspiration from
articles for use in the monasteries. The ordinary Tibetan,
surrounded as he is by the various spirits which occupy
every valley and mountain top, is very superstitious. He
therefore has inside his house his prayer wheel and his little
shrine, before which he offers up incense daily. His Mani walls
or mendongs, covered with inscribed stones or carved figures
of Buddha, are alongside the paths he daily uses ; on the
top of the mountains or passes, in addition to these prayer-
covered stones, flutter rags printed over with prayers. All
these are intended to propitiate the evil spirits. In places
where there are particularly malignant devils, it may be
necessary to build several Chortens in order to keep them
in subjection, and these Chortens are filled with several
thousands of prayers and sacred figures stamped in the clay.
The country is divided up into districts, each under its
own Jongpen, who is responsible direct to Lhasa or Shigatse
and has yearly to send the revenue collected to headquarters.
A certain percentage of the crops is collected every year,
and in a year of good harvest the Jongpen is able to make
a certain amount of money for himself in addition to what
he has to send to Lhasa. Our visit to the Kharta Valley
was an unexpected windfall for the Kharta Jongpen, as I

BACK TO CIVILISATION 175

fancy that much of the money that we paid out to the different
villages for supplies or coolie hire eventually found its way
into his pocket and was not likely to find its way to Lhasa.
This may possibly have accounted for his pleasure in
entertaining us and his desire to keep us there as long as
possible. The Tibetans, however, everywhere have good
manners and are invariably most polite — a pleasant
characteristic. Although they are all Buddhists, and
accordingly object to the taking of life, they do not in the
least mind killing their sheep or their yaks for food, but
they objected to our shooting wild sheep or gazelles or wild
birds for food. I could have understood this objection
better had they been vegetarians and not killed their sheep
for eating purposes, but a real vegetarian, except in the
strictest monasteries, is very rare in Tibet.

There was a great fascination in roaming through the
country as we did. It was the fascination of the unknown,
this travelling in regions where Europeans had never travelled
before, and where they had never even been seen. The
people had exaggerated notions of our ferocity, and were
full of fears as to what we might be like and as to what we
might do. In these out-of-the-way parts they had heard
vaguely of the fighting in 1904, and they imagined that our
visit might be on the same lines. They imagined, too,
that all Europeans were cruel and seized what they wanted
without payment. They were therefore much surprised
when they found that we treated them fairly and paid for
everything that we wanted at very good rates. The
Expedition may, I venture to think, take credit to itself for
having certainly done a great deal of good in promoting
more friendly relations between the Tibetans and ourselves,
and in giving them a better understanding of what an
Englishman is. Their ignorance of the outside world was
at times astounding. Tibetan officials and traders were
an exception, but it was seldom that the ordinary Tibetan
ever left the valley in which he was born and bred, with the
result that except for the wildest rumours, they knew nothing

176 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

of the outside world. For long-distance journeys, the
Tibetans used ambling mules or ponies, which were capable
of going long distances and keeping up a speed of about
5 miles an hour. To our idea, the Tibetan saddle with its
high wooden framework is very uncomfortable, but on the
top of thgir saddles they would put their bedding, spreading
over it a brilliant and often beautifully coloured carpet as a
saddle cloth. On the top of this the rider would sit perched,
and, with a good ambling pony, could get along very
comfortably.

I always enjoyed travelling and moving about in Tibet.
It hardly has the climate of Tennyson's Island Valley of
AviHon — ^" Where faUs not hail or rain or snow, nor ever
wind blows loudly " — for we used to get samples of nearly
aU of these almost every day. But no matter how barren
nor how bare the immediate surroundings were there was a
sense of exhilaration and freedom in the air. There was
never a sense of being confined in a narrow space. There
was always some distant view where the colours would be
continually changing. In the summer-time the cHmate
was not unpleasant, and there was always the pleasure of
finding some new and beautiful flower, oftentimes springing
up out of the driest sand. Wherever there was water, there
was sure to be vegetation and many bright- coloured flowers
with every kind of wild-bird life. The shriU whistle of the
marmot would often alone break the silence of the scene.
Animal life in some form was almost always visible, whether
it was the wild kiang roaming on the plains, or the gazelle,
or the wild sheep, there was always something of interest
to watch. The little mouse hares which lived in great colonies
would constantly dodge in and out of their holes and the
song of the larks could always be heard.

By the end of October the climate was beginning to get
very cold, the thermometer descending at times to Zero
Fahrenheit, so that we were quite ready to leave the country,
being anxious to get warm again, if only for a short time.
There was sorrow in our hearts, however, at parting with

BACK TO CIVILISATION 177

the friendly and hospitable folk whom we had encountered,
and at leaving behind us the famihar landscapes with the
transparent pale blue atmosphere that is so hard to describe,
and the distant views of range upon range of snowy mountains
often reflected in the calm waters of some blue coloured
lake. The attractions of Tibet may yet be strong enough
to draw us back again once more. Many years ago
the same attraction impelled me to cross the Himalayan
mountains and to visit another part of Tibet, but my
excursion was, I am afraid, not favourably regarded by the
Indian Government and my leave was stopped for six months.
The same attraction, however, still exists for this land of
many colours with its lonely sunsets full of beauty, with its
nights where the eager stars gleam bright as diamonds, and
where the fuU moon shines upon the nameless mountains
covered with snow and still as death.

As we turned our backs upon the country we left winter
behind us, and descending the Chumbi Valley once more
found ourselves in autumnal surroundings. The Himalayan
larch were all of a beautiful golden colour ; the birch were
all turning brown, and the berberis were a brilliant scarlet.
Red currants and the scarlet haws of the rose were still on
the bushes. The currants were no longer sour to eat raw,
and we picked many of them on the way down. Our pockets,
too, were filled with seeds of rhododendrons and other flowers.
On the way I was met by the native officer commanding the
garrison at Yatung, which was now found by the 90th
Punjabis. As I passed their quarters, the guard turned
out, presenting arms very smartly, and aU the detachment
came out and saluted. They were certainly a very well-
trained detachment. Once more the Macdonald family most
kindly sent over a generous meal, besides presents of every
sort and kind of European vegetable. From Yatung we
obtained forty-five mules for our transport. These came
along very much faster than the yaks and the donkeys that
we had been using. Here Gyalzen Kazi, one of our
interpreters, left us to return to his home at Gangtok. I

M.E N

178 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

was very sorry to lose him. He had been a pleasant
companion and had been of great assistance to the
Expedition. He was always most willing to undertake
any difficult or unpleasant job there might be, and I never
heard a murmur or grumble from him of any kind during
the whole time that he was with us. Our march was only
a short one of 11 miles to Langra, where there was a Tibetan
rest-house built in the Chinese style and rather reminding
me of our rest-house at Tingri. It was a most perfect
autumnal day, with scarcely a cloud in the sky. The woods
everywhere were very beautiful, the dark silver fir trees
showing up the scarlet and yellow of the bushes and the
gold of the larch. Our cook, Acchu, was drunk again, but
Poo prepared us a good meal instead. The next morning,
to our surprise, on looking out we found a couple of inches
of fresh snow on the ground and the snow was stiU falling
steadily. The mules, nevertheless, were all loaded up in
good time, and I followed on foot to the top of the Jelep
Pass, snow falling steadily all the way — a fine granular
snow. At the top of the pass the wind was blowing keenly,
driving the snow into our faces. Besides the 6 inches of
fresh snow here, there was a good deal of the old snow that
had fallen a week or more ago, and in some places formed
drifts several feet deep. It is seldom that a clear view is
ever obtained on the Jelep Pass. It rained when we came
over in May and it snowed now, and twice before, when I
have crossed it, it rained aU the time. Snow fell all the
way down to Gnatong, where there were already a couple of
inches of slush. The next morning was luckily fine, as we
were to do a long march to Rongli — a distance of only 18
miles, but with, a descent of 9,500 feet. The first few miles
we walked through the fresh snow, but in the afternoon
we were wandering among the sweet scents of a troWcal
jungle with orchids still flowering on the trees and ripe
oranges in the garden of our bungalow. We had jumped
from winter to summer in a few hours. The Tibetan mules
came along excellently, doing the march in just over eight

BACK TO CIVILISATION 179

hours, a very different proceeding to our Government mules
on the way up, which we were compelled to discard at
Sedongchen. We reached Darjeeling on October 25. Lord
Ronaldshay was unfortunately away on tour on his way to
Bhutan, and as he had travelled via Gangtok, we had missed
seeing him on the way. The next few days we spent in
getting rid of the remainder of our stores, selling anything
perishable that we could, getting tents dried and mended,
and storing everything else in view of a second Expedition.
We here said good-bye to our other interpreter, Chheten
Wangdi, who had served us most faithfuUy throughout
the Expedition, and it was with the greatest regret that we
took leave of him on the railway station at Darjeeling.

Our Expedition had accomplished aU that it had set
out to do. AU the approaches to Mount Everest from the
North-west, North, North-east and East had been carefuUy
reconnoitred and a possible route to the top had been found
up the North-east ridge. Climatic conditions alone had
prevented a much greater height being attained. Friendly
relations had been established with the Tibetan officials
and people wherever we went. Our travels had taken us
through much unexplored and new country wherein we had
discovered some magnificent and undreamt-of vaUeys where
primeval forests existed such as we had never imagined to
find in Tibet and where deep fiUed glens with the richest
semi-tropical vegetation descended as low as 7,000 feet.
Many beautiful flowers were discovered in these Alpine
valleys, and we were able to collect a quantity of seeds from
these which I hope may help to enrich and to beautify our
gardens at home. A new part of the country has been
opened up to human knowledge. It has been photographed
and described. The surveyors have made an original survey
at a scale of 4 miles to the inch of an area of some 12,000
square miles ; a detailed photographic survey of 600 square
miles of the environs of Mount Everest has been worked out,
and, besides this, the maps of another 4,000 square miles of
country have been revised. Dr. Heron, our indefatigable

180 THE NARRATIVE OF THE EXPEDITION

geologist, himself travelled over the greater part of this area,
and has carefully investigated the geology of the whole
region. That the Expedition was able to accomplish so much
in such a short time was due to the hearty co-operation and
keenness of all the members of the party. We were a happy
family and, to use a rowing expression, we all " pulled to-
gether." Such success as we attained is entirely due to their
strenuous and ceaseless efforts, and I can only express my
gratitude to them for the unselfish way in which they helped
and assisted me on every occasion.

The Expedition of 1921 is over ; many problems have
been solved, much new country has been brought witliin
our ken, and many new beauties have been revealed, but
the soul of man is never content with what has been attained.
The solution of one problem only brings forward fresh
problems to be solved, so this Expedition into unknown
country brings within the realms of possibility further travels
and further problems to be solved. There is much that yet
remains to be done, much that remains to be discovered ;
and though we may not be privileged to discover a new
race of hairy snow men, yet there is a wild and uncharted
country full of beauty and interest that awaits those who
dare face the discomfort and hardships of travelling in Tibet
— discomforts which are soon forgotten and leave behind
them only the memories of very wonderful scenes and places
which the passing of time can never efface.

Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us,

Let us journey to a lonely land I know ;
There's a whisper in the night wind, there's a star, a gleam to guide us,

And the wild is calling, calling, let us go.

R. W. S.

THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE
MOUNTAIN

By
GEORGE H. LEIGH-MALLORY

CHAPTER XII
THE NORTHERN APPROACH

As a matter of history it has been stated aheady in an
earher chapter of this book that the highest mountain in
the world attracted attention so early as 1850. When we
started our travels in 1921, something was aheady kno"v\Ti
about it from a surveyor's point of view ; it was a triangulated
peak with a position on the map ; but from the mountaineer's
point of view almost nothing was known. Mount Everest
had been seen and photographed from various points on
the Singalila ridge as well as from Kampa Dzong ; from
these photographs it may dimly be made out that snow Hes
on the upper part of the Eastern face at no very steep angle,
while the arete bounding this face on the North comes down
gently for a considerable distance. But the whole angle
subtended at the great summit by the distance between
the two of these view-points which are farthest apart is
only 54°. The North-west sides of the mountain had never
been photographed and nothing was known of its lower
parts anywhere. Perhaps the distant view most valuable
to a mountaineer is that from Sandakphu, because it suggests
gigantic precipices on the South side of the mountain so that
he need have no regrets that access is barred in that direction
for political reasons.

The present reconnaissance began at Kampa Dzong, no
less than 100 miles away, and in consequence of misfortunes
wliich the reader will not have forgotten was necessarily
entrusted to Mr. G. H. Bullock and myself, the only
representatives of the Alpine Club now remaining in the
Expedition. It may seem an irony of fate that actually
on the day after the distressing event of Dr. Kellas' death

183

184 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

we experienced the strange elation of seeing Everest for the
first time. It was a perfect early morning as we plodded
up the barren slopes above our camp and rising behind the
old rugged fort which is itself a singularly impressive and
dramatic spectacle ; we had mounted perhaps a thousand
feet when we stayed and turned, and saw what we came to
see. There was no mistaking the two great peaks in the
West : that to the left must be Makalu, grey, severe and yet
distinctly graceful, and the other away to the right — who
could doubt its identity ? It was a prodigious white fang
excrescent from the jaw of the world. We saw Mount
Everest not quite sharply defined on account of a slight
haze in that direction ; this circumstance added a touch of
mystery and grandeur ; we were satisfied that the highest
of mountains would not disappoint us. And we learned one
fact of great importance : the lower parts of the mountain
were hidden by the range of nearer mountains clearly shown
in the map running North from the Nila La and now called
the Gyanka Range, but it was possible to distinguish aU
that showed near Everest beyond them by a difference in
tone, and we were certain that one great rocky peak appearing
a little way to the left of Everest must belong to its near
vicinity.

It was inevitable, as we proceeded to the West from
Kampa Dzong, that we should lose sight of Mount Everest ;
after a few miles even its tip was obscured by the Gyanka
Range, and we naturally began to wonder whether it would
not be possible to ascend one of these nearer peaks which
must surely give us a wonderful view. I had hopes that
we should be crossing the range by a high pass, in which
case it would be a simple matter to ascend some eminence
near it. But at Tinki we learned that our route would
lie in the gorge to the North of the mountains where the
river Yaru cuts its way through from the East to join the
Arun.

From Gyanka Nangpa, which lies under a rocky summit
over 20,000 feet high, Bullock and I, on June 11, made an

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 185

early start and proceeded down the gorge. It was a perfect
morning and for once we had tolerably swift animals to
ride ; we were fortunate in choosing the right place to ford
the river and our spirits were high. How could they be
otherwise ? Ever since we had lost sight of Everest the
Gyanka Mountains had been our ultimate horizon to the
West. Day by day as we had approached them our thoughts
had concentrated more and more upon what lay beyond.
On the far side was a new country. Now the great Arun
River was to divulge its secrets and we should see Everest
again after nearly halving the distance. The nature of the
gorge was such that our curiosity could not be satisfied
until the last moment. After crossing the stream we followed
the flat margin of its right bank until the cliffs converging
to the exit were towering above us. Then in a minute we
were out on the edge of a wide sandy basin stretching away
with complex undulations to further hills. Sand and barren
hills as before — but with a difference ; for we saw the long
Arun Valley proceeding Southwards to cut through the
Himalayas and its western arm which we should have to
follow to Tingri ; and there were marks of more ancient
river beds and strange inland lakes. It was a desolate scene,
I suppose ; no flowers were to be seen nor any sign of life
beyond some stunted gorse bushes on a near hillside and
a few patches of coarse brown grass, and the only habitations
were dry inhuman ruins ; but whatever else was dead, our
interest was ahve.

After a brief halt a Uttle way out in the plain, to take
our bearings and speculate where the great mountains should
appear, we made our way up a steep hill to a rocky crest
overlooking the gorge. The only visible snow mountains
were in Sikkim. Kanchenjunga was clear and eminent ;
we had never seen it so fine before ; it now seemed singularly
strong and monumental, like the leonine face of some splendid
musician with a glory of white hair. In the direction of
Everest no snow mountain appeared. We saw the long
base tongues descending into the Arun VaUey from the

186 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

Gyanka Range, above them in the middle distance an
amazingly sharp rock summit and below a blue depth most
unlike Tibet as we had known it hitherto. A conical hill
stood sentinel at the far end of the valley, and in the distance
was a bank of clouds.

Our attention was engaged by the remarkable spike of
rock, a proper aiguille. As we were observmg it a rift opened
in the clouds behind ; at first we had merely a fleeting
glimpse of some mountain evidently much more distant,
then a larger and clearer view revealed a recognizable form ;
it was Makalu appearing just where it should be according
to our calculations with map and compass.

We were now able to make out almost exactly where
Everest should be ; but the clouds were dark in that direction.
We gazed at them intently through field glasses as though
by some miracle we might pierce the veil. Presently the
miracle happened. We caught the gleam of snow behind
the grey mists. A whole group of mountains began to
appear in gigantic fragments. Mountain shapes are often
fantastic seen through a mist ; these were Hke the wildest
creation of a dream. A preposterous triangular lump rose
out of the depths ; its edge came leaping up at an angle of
about 70° and ended nowhere. To the left a black serrated
crest was hanging in the sky incredibly. Gradually, very
gradually, we saw the great mountain sides and glaciers
and aretes, now one fragment and now another through
the floating rifts, until far higher in the sky than imagination
had dared to suggest the white summit of Everest appeared.
And in this series of partial glimpses we had seen a whole ;
we were able to piece together the fragments, to interpret
the dream. However much might remain to be understood,
the centre had a clear meaning as one mountain shape, the
shape of Everest.

It is hardly possible of course from a distance of 57 miles
to formulate an accurate idea of a mountain's shape. But
some of its most remarkable features may be distinguished
for what they are. We were looking at Everest from about

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 187

North-east and evidently a long arete was thrust out towards
us. Some little distance below the summit the arete came
down to a black shoulder, which we conjectured would be
an insuperable obstacle. To the right of this we saw the
sky Une in profile and judged it not impossibly steep. The
edge was probably a true arete because it appeared to be
joined by a col to a sharp peak to the North. From the
direction of this col a valley came down to the East and
evidently drained into the Arim. This was one fact of
supreme importance which was now estabHshed and we
noticed that it agreed with what was shown on the map ;
the map in fact went up in our esteem and we were inclined
hereafter to beUeve in its veracity until we estabHshed the
contrary. Another fact was even more remarkable. We
knew something more about the great peak near Everest
which we had seen from Kampa Dzong ; we knew now that
it was not a separate mountain ; in a sense it was part of
Everest, or rather Everest was not one mountain but two ;
this great black mountain to the South was connected with
Everest by a continuous arete and divided from it only by
a snow col which must itself be at least 27,000 feet high.
The black cHffs of this mountain, which faced us, were
continuous with the icy East face of Everest itself.

A bank of cloud stiU lay across the face of the mountain
when Bullock and I left the crest where we were estabHshed.
It was late in the afternoon. We had looked down into the
gorge and watched our little donkeys crossing the stream.
Now we proceeded to foUow their tracks across the plain.
The wind was fiercely blowing up the sand and swept it
away to leeward, transformmg the dead flat surface into a
wriggHng sea of watered silk. The party were aU sheltering
in their tents when we rejoined them. Our camp was
situated on a grassy bank below which by some miracle a
spring wells out from the sand. We also sought shelter.
But a short while after sunset the -wind subsided. We all
came forth and proceeded to a little eminence near at hand ;
and as we looked down the valley there was Everest

188 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

calm in the stillness of evening and clear in the last

light.

I have dwelt upon this episode at some length partly
because in aU our travels before we reached the mountain
it is for me beyond other adventures unforgettable ; and
not less because the vision of Everest inhabiting our minds
after this day had no small influence upon our deductions
when we came to close quarters with the mountain. We
made other opportunities before reaching Tingri to ascend
likely hills for what we could see ; notably from Shekar
Dzong we made a divergence from the line of march and
from a hill above Ponglet, on a morning of cloudless sunrise,
saw the whole group of mountains of which Everest is the
centre. But no view was so instructive as that above
Shiling and we added little to the knowledge gained that

day.

On June 23, after a day's interval to arrange stores, the
climbing party set forth from Tingri Dzong. We were two
Sahibs, sixteen coohes, a Sirdar, Gyalzen and a cook Dukpa.
The process of selecting the coohes had been begun some
time before this ; the long task of nailing their boots had
been nearly completed on the march and we were now
confident that sixteen of the best Sherpas with their cUmbing
boots, ice axes and each a suit of underwear would serve us
well. The Sirdar through whom coohes had been engaged
in the first instance seemed to understand what was wanted
and to have sufficient authority, and Dukpa, though we could
not expect from him any culinary refinements, had shown
himself a person of some energy and competence who should
do much to reduce the discomforts of life in camp. Our
equipment was seriously deficient in one respect : we were
short of words. A few hours spent in Darjeeling with a
Grammar of Tibetan had easily convinced me that I should
profit little in the short time available by the study of that
language. It had been assumed by both BuUock and myself
that our experienced leaders would give the necessary orders
for organisation in any dialect that might be required we

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 189

had found little opportunity since losing them to learn a
language, and our one hope of conversing with the Sirdar
was a vocabulary of about 150 words which I had written
down in a notebook to be committed to memory on the
march and consulted when occasion should arise.

The task before us was not likely to prove a simple and
straightforward matter, and we had no expectation that
it would be quickly concluded. It would be necessary
in the first place to find the mountain ; as we looked across
the wide plains from Tingri and saw the dark monsoon
clouds gathered in all directions we were not reassured.
And there would be more than one approach to be found.
We should have to explore a number of valleys radiating
from Everest and separated by high ridges which would
make lateral communication extremely difficult ; we must
learn from which direction various parts of the mountain
could most conveniently be reached. And beyond all
investigation of the approaches we should have to scrutinise
Mount Everest itself. Our reconnaissance must aim at a
complete knowledge of the various faces and aretes, a correct
understanding of the whole form and structure of the mountain
and the distribution of its various parts ; we must distinguish
the vulnerable places in its armour and finally pit our skill
against the obstacles wherever an opportunity of ascent
should appear until all such opportunities were exhausted.
The whole magnitude of the enterprise was very present in
our minds as we left Tingri. We decided that a prehminary
reconnaissance should include the first two aims of finding
the approaches to Mount Everest and determining its shape,
while anything in the nature of an assault should be left
to the last as a separate stage of organisation and effort.
In the result we may claim to have kept these ends in view
without allowing the less important to prey upon the
greater. So long as a doubt remained as to the way we
should choose we made no attempt to climb the peak ; we
required ourselves first to find out as much as possible by
more distant observations.

190 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

Mount Everest, as it turned out, did not prove difficult
to find. Almost in the direct line from Tingri are two great
peaks respectively 26,870 and 25,990 feet high — known
to the Survey of India as Mi and M2 and to Tibetans as
Cho-Uyo and Gyachung Kang. They lie about W.N.W. of
Everest. We had to decide whether we should pass to the
South of them, leaving them on our left, or to the North.
In the first case we surmised that we might find ourselves
to the South of a western arete of Everest, and possibly in
Nepal, which was out of bounds. The arete, if it existed,
might perhaps be reached from the North and give us the
view we should require of the South-western side, in which
case one base would serve us for a large area of investigation
and we should economise time that would otherwise be
spent in moving our camp round from one side to another.
Consequently we chose the Northern approach. We learned
from local knowledge that in two days we might reach a
village and monastery caUed Chobuk, and from there
could follow a long valley to Everest. And so it proved.
Chobuk was not reached without some difficulty, but this
was occasioned not by obstacles in the country but by the
manners of Tibetans. At Tingri we had hired four pack
animals. We had proceeded 2 or 3 miles across the plain
when we perceived they were heading in the wrong direction.
We were trusting to the guidance of their local drivers and
felt very uncertain as to where exactly we should be aiming ;
but their line was about 60° to the South of our objective
according to a guesswork compass bearing. An almost
interminable three-cornered argument followed. It appeared
that our guides intended to take five days to Chobuk.
They knew all about " ca' canny." In the end we decided
to take the risk of a separation ; Gyalzen went with the
bullocks and our tents to change transport at the village
where we were intended to stay the night, while the rest of
us made a bee line for a bridge where we should have to
cross the Rongbuk stream. At the foot of a vast moraine
we waited on the edge of the " maidan," anxiously hoping

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 191

that we should see some sign of fresh animals approaching ;
and at length we saw them. It was a late camp that evening
on a strip of meadow beside the stream, but we had the
comfort of reflecting that we had foiled the natives, whose
aim was to retard our progress, and in the sequel we reached
our destination with no further trouble.

On June 25 we crossed the stream at Chobuk. Tibetan
bridges are so constructed as to offer the passenger ample
opportunities of experiencing the sensation of insecurity
and contemplating the possibilities of disaster. This one
was no exception. We had no wish to risk our stores, and
it was planned that the beasts should swim. They were
accordingly unladen and driven with yell and blow by a
willing crowd, until one more frightened than the rest plunged
into the torrent and the others followed. We now found
ourselves on the right bank of the Rongbuk stream, and
knew we had but to follow it up to reach the glacier at the
head of the valley. An hour or so above Chobuk we entered
a gorge with high red cliffs above us on the left. Below
them was a little space of fertile ground where the moisture
draining down from the limestone above was caught before
it reached the stream — a green ribbon stretched along the
margin with grass and low bushes, yeUow-flowering asters,
rhododendrons and juniper. I think we had never seen
anything so green since we came up on to the tableland
of Tibet. It was a day of brilliant sunshine, as yet warm
and windless. The memory of Alpine meadows came into
my mind. I remembered their manifold allurements ; I
could almost smell the scent of pines. Now I was filled
with the desire to lie here in this " oasis " and Uve at ease
and sniff the clean fragrance of mountain plants. But we
went on, on and up the long valley winding across a broad
stony bay ; and all the stony hillsides under the midday
sun were alike monotonously dreary. At length we followed
the path up a steeper rise crowned by two chortens between
which it passes. We paused here in sheer astonishment.
Perhaps we had half expected to see Mount Everest at this

192 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

moment. In the back of my mind were a host of questions
about it clamourmg for answer. But the sight of it now
banished every thought. We forgot the stony wastes and
regrets for other beauties. We asked no questions and
made no comment, but simply looked.

It is perhaps because Everest presented itself so
dramatically on tliis occasion that I find the Northern
aspect more particularly imaged in my mind, when I recall
the mountain. But in any case this aspect has a special
significance. The Rongbuk Valley is well constructed to
show ofi the peak at its head ; for about 20 miles it is
extraordinarily straight and in that distance rises only
4,000 feet, the glacier, which is 10 miles long, no more steeply
than the rest. In consequence of this arrangement one
has only to be raised very slightly above the bed of the
vaUey to see it almost as a flat way up to the very head of
the glacier from which the chfis of Everest spring. To
the place where Everest stands one looks along rather than
up. The glacier is prostrate ; not a part of the mountain ;
not even a pediment ; merely a floor footing the high walls.
At the end of the valley and above the glacier Everest rises
not so much a peak as a prodigious mountam-mass. There
is no complication for the eye. The highest of the world's
great mountains, it seems, has to make but a single gesture
of magniflcence to be lord of all, vast in unchallenged and
isolated supremacy. To the discerning eye other mountains
are visible, giants between 23,000 and 26,000 feet high. Not
one of their slenderer heads even reaches their chief's shoulder ;
beside Everest they escape notice — such is the pre-eminence
of the greatest.

Considered as a structure Mount Everest is seen from
the Rongbuk VaUey to achieve height with amazing
simplicity. The steep wall 10,000 feet high is contained
between two colossal members — to the left the North-eastern
arete, which leaves the summit at a gentle angle and in a
distance of about half a mile descends only 1,000 feet before
turning more sharply downwards from a clearly defined

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 193

shoulder ; and to the right the North-west arete (its true
direction is about W.N.W.), which comes down steeply
from the summit but makes up for the weaker nature of
this support by immense length below. Such is the broad
plan. In one respect it is modified. The wide angle between
the two main aretes involves perhaps too long a face ; a
further support is added. The Northern face is brought
out a little below the North-east shoulder and then turned
back to meet the crest again, so that from the point of the
shoulder a broad arete leads down to the North and is
connected by a snow col at about 23,000 feet with a Northern
wing of mountains which forms the right bank of the Rongbuk
Glacier and to some extent masks the view of the lower
parts of Everest. Nothing could be stronger than this
arrangement and it is nowhere fantastic. We do not see
jagged crests and a multitude of pinnacles, and beautiful
as such ornament may be we do not miss it. The outline
is comparatively smooth because the stratification is
horizontal, a circumstance which seems again to give strength,
emphasising the broad foundations. And yet Everest is a
rugged giant. It has not the smooth undulations of a snow
mountain with white snow cap and glaciated flanks. It
is rather a great rock mass, coated often with a thin layer
of white powder which is blown about its sides, and bearing
perennial snow only on the gentler ledges and on several
wide faces less steep than the rest. One such place is the
long arm of the North-west arete which with its slightly
articulated buttresses is like the nave of a vast cathedral
roofed with snow. I was, in fact, reminded often by this
Northern view of Winchester Cathedral with its long high
nave and low square tower ; it is only at a considerable
distance that one appreciates the great height of this building
and the strength which seems capable of supporting a far
taller tower. Similarly with Everest ; the summit lies
back so far along the immense aretes that big as it always
appears one required a distant view to realise its height ;
and it has no spire though it might easily bear one ; I have

M.E, 0

194 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

thought sometimes that a Matterhorn might be piled on
the top of Everest and the gigantic structure would support
the added weight in stable equanimity.

On June 26 we pitched our tents in full view of Everest
and a Httle way beyond the large monastery of Choyling
which provides the habitations nearest to the mountain,
about 16 miles away. After three days' march from the
Expedition's headquarters at Tingri we had found the
object of our quest and estabhshed a base in the Rongbuk
Valley, which was to serve us for a month.

The first steps in a prolonged reconnaissance such as
we were proposing to undertake were easily determined by
topographical circumstances. Neither Bullock nor I was
previously acquainted with any big mountains outside the
Alps ; to our experience in the Alps we had continually to
refer, both for understanding this country and for estimating
the efforts required to reach a given point in it. The Alps
provided a standard of comparison which alone could be
our guide until we had acquired some fresh knowledge
in the new surroundings. No feature of what we saw so
immediately challenged this comparison as the glacier
ahead of us ; in so narrow a glacier it was hardly surprising
that the lower part of it should be covered with stones,
but higher the whole surface was white ice, and the white
ice came down in a broad stream tapering gradually to a
point when it was lost in the waste of the brown grey. \Vhat
was the meaning of this ? Even from a distance it was
possible to make out that the white stream contained
pinnacles of ice. Was it all composed of pinnacles ? Would
they prove an insuperable obstacle ? In the Alps the main
glaciers are most usually highways, the ways offered to
the climber for his travelling. Were they not to prove
highways here ?

Our first expedition was designed to satisfy our curiosity
on this head. Allowing a bountiful margin of time for
untoward contingencies we set forth on June 27 with five
cooUes at 3.15 a.m., and made our way up the vaUey with

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 195

a good moon to help us. To be tramping under the stars
toward a great mountain is always an adventure ; now
we were adventuring for the first time in a new mountain
country which still held in store for us all its surprises and
almost all its beauties. It was not our plan at present
to make any allowance for the special condition of elevation ;
we expected to learn how that condition would tell and how
to make allowances for the future. We started from our
camp at 16,000 feet — above the summit of Mont Blanc —
just as we should have left an Alpine hut 6,000 feet lower,
and when we took our first serious halt at 7 a.m. had already
crossed the narrow end of the glacier. That short experience
— an hour or so — was sufficient for the moment. The
hummocks of ice covered with stones of all sizes — like the
huge waves of a brown angry sea — gave us no chance of
ascending the glacier ; one might hopefully follow a trough
for a little distance but invariably to be stopped by the
necessity of mounting once more to a crest and descending
again on the other side. Nevertheless, we were not dis-
satisfied with our progress. We were now in a stream bed
between the glacier and its left bank and above the exit of
the main glacier stream, which comes out on this side well
above the snout. The watercourse offered an opportunity
of progress ; it was dry almost everjrwhere and for a bout
of leaping from boulder to boulder we were usually rewarded
by a space of milder walking on the flat sandy bed. Our
pace I considered entirely satisfactory as we went on after
breakfast ; unconsciously I was led into something like
a race by one of the coolies who was pressing along at my
side. I noticed that though he was sHghtly built he seemed
extremely strong and active, compact of muscle ; but he
had not yet learnt the art of walking rhythmically and
balancing easily from stone to stone. I wondered how
long he would keep up. Presently we came to a corner
where our stream bed ended and a small glacier-snout was
visible above us apparently descending from the North-
west. We gathered on a high bank of stones to look out

196 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

over the glacier. I observed now that the whole aspect
of the party had changed. The majority were more than
momentarily tired, they were visibly suffering from some
sort of malaise. It was not yet nine o'clock and we had
risen barely 2,000 feet, but their spirits had gone. There
were grunts instead of laughter.

The glacier's left bank which we were following was
now trending to the right. To the South and standing
in front of the great North-west arm of Everest was a
comparatively small and very attractive snow peak, perhaps
a httle less than 21,000 feet high. We had harboured a vague
ambition to reach its shoulder, a likely point for prospecting
the head of the Rongbuk Glacier. But between us and
this objective was a wide stretch of hummocky ice which
had every appearance of being something more than a
mere bay of the main glacier. We suspected a western
branch and proceeded to confirm our suspicion. After a
rough crossing below the glacier above us we were fortunate
enough to find another trough wider than the first and
having a flat sandy bottom where we walked easily enough.
Presently leaving the coolies to rest on the edge of the glacier
BuUock and I mounted a high stony shoulder, and from
there, at 18,500 feet, saw the glacier stretching away to
the West, turning sharply below us to rise more steeply than
before. Cloud prevented us from distinguishing what
appeared to be a high mountain ridge at the far end of it.

It was evident that nothing was to be gained at present
by pushing our investigations further to the West. Our
curiosity was as yet unsatisfied about those white spires
of ice to which our eyes had constantly returned. We
declined the alternative of retracing our steps and without
further delay set about to cross the glacier. It was now
eleven o'clock and we were under no delusion that the task
before us would be other than arduous and long. But
the reward in interest and valuable information promised
to be great, for, by exploring the glacier's right bank during
our descent we should learn all we wanted to know before

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 197

making plans for an advance. And we hoped to be in
before dark.

The stone-covered ice on which we fii'st embarked
compared favourably with that of our earher experience
before breakfast. The sea, so to speak, was not so choppy ;
the waves were longer. We were able to follow convenient
troughs for considerable distances. But at the bottom of a
trough which points whither it will it is impossible to keep
a definite direction and difficult to know to what extent
one is erring. An hour's hard work was required to bring
us to the edge of the white ice. Our first question was
answered at a glance. It had always seemed improbable
that these were seracs such as one meets on an Alpine
icefall, and clearly they were not. We saw no signs of
lateral crevasses. The shapes were comparatively conical
and regular, not dehcately poised but fii'mly based, safely
perpendicular and not dangerously impending. They were
the result not of movement but of melting, and it was
remarkable that on either side the black ice looked over the
white, as though the glacier had sunk in the middle. The
pinnacles resembled a topsy-turvy system of colossal icicles,
icicles thrust upwards from a common icy mass, the whole
resting on a definable floor. The largest were about 50
feet high.

We were divided from this fairy world of spires by a
deep boundary moat and entered it on the far side by what
may be described as a door but that it had no lintel. An
alley led us over a low wall and we had reached the interior.
A connected narrative of our wanderings in tliis amazing
country could hardly be true to its disconnected character.
The White Rabbit himself would have been bewildered
here. No course seemed to lead anywhere. Our idea was
to keep to the floor so far as we were able ; but most usually
we were scrambling up a chimney or slithering down one,
cutting round the foot of a tower or actually traversing
along an icy crest. To be repeatedly crossmg Httle cols
with the continued expectation of seeing a way beyond

198 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

was a sufficiently exciting labour ; it was also sufficiently-
laborious since the chopping of steps was necessary almost
everywhere ; but fatigue was out of sight in the enchanted
scene, with the cool dehght of little lakes, of the ice reflected
in their unruffled waters and of blue sky showing between
the white spires. We had but one misadventure, and
that of no consequence — it was my fate when crossing the
frozen surface of one httle lake to suffer a sudden immersion :
the loss of dignity perhaps was more serious than the chiUing
of ardour, for we soon came upon a broadening aUey and
came out from our labyrinth as suddenly as we entered
it, to He and bask in the warm sun.

Our crossing of the white ice after aU had taken Httle
more than two hours, and we might well consider ourselves
fortunate. But it must be remembered that we were far
from fresh at the start and now the reaction set in. The
stone-covered glacier on this side, besides being a much
narrower belt was clearly not going to give us trouble, and
after an ample halt we started across it easily enough.
On the right bank we had noticed many houi^s before above
the glacier a broad flat shelf, presumably an old moraine,
and a clear mark along the hiUside away down to a point
below the snout. This was now our objective and no doubt
once we had gained it our troubles would be ended. But
in the first place it had to be gained. In the Alps it has
often seemed laborious to go up hiU towards the end of a
day : it was a new sensation to find it an almost impossible
exertion to drag oneself up a matter of 150 feet. And
further exertions were to be required of us. A little way
down the valley a glacier stream came in on our right ; we
had observed this before and hopefully expected to foUow
our terrace round and rejoin it on the far side of the gully.
But it was late in the afternoon and the stream was at its
fullest. We followed it down v/ith defeated expectations ;
it always proved just too dangerous to cross. Finally it
formed a lake at the edge of the glacier before disappearing
beneath it and obliged us to make a detour on the ice once

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 199

more. I suppose this obstacle was mild enough ; but again
an ascent was involved, and after it at least one member
of the party seemed incapable of further effort. Another
halt was necessary. We were now down to about 17,000
feet and at the head of a long passage at the side of the
glacier, similar to that we had ascended in the morning
on the other bank. Those who suffer from altitude on a
mountain have a right to expect a recovery on the descent.
But I saw no signs of one yet. It was a long painful
hour balancing from boulder to boulder along the passage,
with the conscious effort of keeping up the feat mitil we
came out into the flat basin at the glacier end. Then as
we left the glacier behind us the day seemed to come right.
One obstacle remained, a stream which had been crossed
with difficulty in the morning and was now swollen to a
formidable torrent. It was carried with a rush — this was
no moment for delay. Each man chose his own way for
a wetting ; for my part, after a series of exciting leaps on to
submerged stones I landed m the deepest part of the stream
with the pick of my axe dug into the far bank to help me
scramble out. After this I remember only of the last 4
miles the keen race against the gathering darkness ; fatigue
was forgotten and we reached camp at 8.15 p.m., tired
perhaps, but not exhausted.

It has seemed necessary to give an account of this first
expedition in some detail in order to emphasise certain
conditions which governed aU our movements from the
Rongbuk Valley. We now knew how to get about. Flat
though the glacier might be, it was no use for travelling
in any part we had seen, not a road but an obstacle. The
obstacle, however, had not proved insurmountable, and
though the crossing had been laborious and long, we were
not convinced that it need be so long another time ; careful
reconnaissance might reveal a better way, and we had little
doubt that both the main glacier and its Western branch
could be used freely for lateral communication if we chose.
It would not always be necessary in organising an expedition

200 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

to be encamped on one side of the glacier rather than the
other. And we had discovered that it was not a difficult
matter to make our way along the glacier sides ; we could
choose either a trough or a shelf.

We had also been greatly interested by the phenomena
of fatigue. The most surprising fact when we apphed our
standard of comparison was that coming down had proved
so laborious ; Bullock and I had each discovered indepen-
dently that we got along better when we remembered to
breathe hard, and we already suspected what we afterwards
estabhshed — that it was necessary to adopt a conscious
method of breathing deeply for coming down as for going
up. Another inference, subsequently confirmed on many
occasions, accused the glacier. The mid-day sun had been
hot as we crossed it and I seemed to notice some enervating
influence which had not affected me elsewhere. It was the
glacier that had knocked me out, not the hard work alone
but some mahgnant quaUty in the atmosphere, which I
can neither describe nor explain ; and in crossing a glacier
during the day I always afterwards observed the same
effect ; I might feel as fit and fresh as I could wish on the
moraine at the side but only once succeeded in crossing a
glacier without feeling a despairing lassitude.
I shall now proceed to quote from my diary :
June 28. — A slack day in camp. It is difficult to induce
cooHes to take any steps to make themselves more com-
fortable. We're lucky to have this fine weather. The
mountain appears not to be intended for climbing. I've
no inclination to think about it in steps to the summit.
Nevertheless, we gaze much tlirough field-glasses. E. is,
generally speaking, convex, steep in lower parts and slanting
back to summit. Last section of East arete * should go ;
but rocks up to the shoulder are uninviting. An arete
must join up here, coming down towards us and connecting

* It had not yet been established that the true direction of this arete
is North-east.

THE NORTHERN APPROACH

201

up with first peak to N.* There's no true North arete to
the summit, as we had supposed at fii*st. It's more hke
this :

2 ".'^ Peak
to North

SUMMIT

North East
Shoulder

G. H. B. thinks little of the North-west arm. But I'm not
so sm'e ; much easy going on that snow if we can get to
it and rocks above probably easier than they look — steep
but broken. Are we seeing the true edge ? I wish some
folk at home could see the precipice on this side — a grim
spectacle most unlike the long gentle snow slopes suggested
by photos. Amusing to think how one's vision of the last
effort has changed ; it looked like crawling haK-bhnd up
easy snow, an even slope all the way up from a camp on
a flat snow shoulder ; but it won't be that sort of grind ;
we'll want climbers and not half-dazed ones ; a tougher
job than I bargained for, sangume as usual.

E. is a rock mountain.

Obviously we must get round to the West first. The
Western glacier looks as flat as this one. Perhaps we shall

* i.e. the North Peak (Changtse).

202 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

be able to walk round into another cwm* on the far side of
North-west buttress.

June 29. — Established First Advanced Camp.

The start late, about 8 a.m., an hour later than ordered.
Loads must be arranged better if anything is to be done
efficiently. Gyalzen's response to being hustled is to tie
Imots or coUect tent pegs — with no idea of superintending
operations. An exciting day with destination unfixed.
We speculated that the shelf on the left bank would resemble
that on right. A passage on stone-covered glacier unavoid-
able and bad for coolies — perhaps to-day's loads were too
heavy for this sort of country. From breakfast place of
27th I went on with Gyalzen, following up a fresh-water
stream to the shelf ; good going on this shelf for forty
minutes, with no sign of more water, and I decided to come
back to the stream. Just as we were turning I saw a pond
of water and a spring, an ideal place, and it's much better
to be further on. Real good luck. Wind blows down
the glacier and the camp is weU sheltered. Only crab that
we lose the sun early — 4 p.m. to-day ; but on the other
hand it should hit us very soon after sunrise.

Coolies in between 3.30 and 4.30. Dorji Gompa first,
stout fellow, with a big load. They seem happy and
interested. ... It should now be possible to carry recon-
naissance well up the main glacier and to the basin Westwards
without moving further — once we get accustomed to this
elevation.

June 30. — A short day with second f party, following the
shelf to a corner which marks roughly the junction of the
main glacier with its Western branch. A clearing day after
a good night ; we found a good way across to the opposite
corner, about an hour across, and came back in leisurely
fashion. Neither B. nor I felt fit.

* Cwm, combe or corry — tho rounded head of a valley.

I The coolies had been divided into three parties which were to spend
four or five days in the advanced camp by turns to be trained in the practice
of mountaineering while the rest supplied this camp from our base.

CHAPTER XIII
THE NORTHERN AFFROACK— continued

The reader will gather from these notes some idea of
the whole nature of our problem and the subjects of our most
anxious thoughts. The camp established on June 25 lasted
us until July 8. Meanwhile the idea was grooving, the vision
of Everest as a structural whole, and of the glaciers and
lower summits to North and West. This idea resembled
the beginning of an artist's painting, a mere rough design at
the start, but growing by steps of clearer definition in one
part and another towards the precise completion of a whole.
For us the mountain parts defined themselves in the mind
as the result of various expeditions. We set out to gain a
point of view with particular questions to be answered;
partial answers and a new point of view stimulated more
curiosity, other questions, and again the necessity to reach
a particular place whence we imagined they might best
be answered. And at the same time another aim had to
be kept in mind. The coolies, though mountain-men,
were not mountaineers. They had to be trained in the
craft of mountaineering, in treading safely on snow or ice
in dangerous places, in climbing easy rocks and most
particularly in the use of rope and ice-axe — and this not merely
for our foremost needs, but to ensure that, whenever we
were able to launch an assault upon Mount Everest, and all
would be put to the most exhausting test, they should have
that reserve strength of a practised balance and ordered
method on which security must ultimately depend.

On July 1 I set out with five coohes to reach the head of
the great cwm under the North face of Mount Everest.
The snow on the upper glacier was soft and made very

203

204 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

heavy going. Bad weather came up and in a race against
the clouds we were beaten and failed to find out what
happened to the glacier at its Western head under the
North-west arete. My view of the col lying between Everest
and the North Peak (Changtse) — the North Col as we now
began to call it, or in Tibetan Chang La — was also unsatis-
factory ; but I saw enough to make out a broken glacier
running up eastwards towards the gap with steep and
uninviting snow slopes under the pass. I was now sure
that before attempting to reach this col from the Rongbuk
Glacier, if ever we determined to reach it, we should have
to reconnoitre the other side and if possible find a more
hopeful alternative ; moreover, from a nearer inspection
of the slopes below the North-west arete I was convinced
that they could be chosen for an attack only as a last resort ;
if anything were to be attempted here, we must find a better
way up from the East.

I had vaguely hoped to bring the party home sufiiciently
fresh to chmb again on the following day. But the fatigue
of going in deep snow for three hours up the glacier, though
we had been no higher than 19,100 feet, had been too great,
and again we had noticed only a slight relief in coming down ;
it was a tired party that dragged back over the glacier
crossing and into camp at 6.15 p.m., thirteen hours after
starting.

July 3 was devoted to an expedition designed chiefly
to take coohes on to steeper ground and at the same time
to explore the small glacier which we had observed above
us on the first day to the North-west ; by following up the
terrace from our present camp we could now come to the
snout of it in half an hour or less. After working up the
glacier we made for a snow col between two high peaks.
On reaching a bergschrund we found above its upper Up
hard ice, which continued no doubt to the ridge. While
Bullock looked after the party below I cut a staircase
slanting up to a small island of rock 100 feet away ; from
that secuiity I began to bring the party up. We had now

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 205

the interesting experience of seeing our coolies for the first
time on real hard ice ; it was not a convincing spectacle,
as they made their way up with the ungainly movements
of beginners ; and though the last man never left the secure
anchorage of the bergschrund, the proportion of two Sahibs
to five cooHes seemed lamentably weak, and when one man
sKpped from the steep steps at an awkward corner, though
Bullock was able to hold him, it was clearly time to retire.
But the descent was a better performance ; the coolies were
apt pupils, and we felt that with practice on the glacier
the best of them should become safe mountaineers. And
on this day we had reached a height of 21,000 feet * from
our camp at 17,500 feet. I had the great satisfaction of
observing that one could cut steps quite happily at this
altitude. The peak lying to the North of the col, which had
been our objective on this day, attracted our attention by
its position ; we thought it should have a commanding view
over all this complicated country, and after a day in camp
very pleasantly spent in receiving a visit from Colonel
Howard-Bury and Dr. Heron, set out on July 5 determined
to reach its summit. The start was made at 4.15 a.m. in
the first light, an hour earlier than usual ; we proceeded
up the stone shoots immediately above our camp and after
a halt for photography at the glorious moment of sunrise
had made 2,500 feet and reached the high shoulder above
us at 7 a.m. This place was connected with our peak
by a snowy col which had now to be reached by a long
traverse over a South-facing slope. Though the angle
was not steep very little snow was Ij^ng here, and where the
ice was peeping through it was occasionally necessary to
cut steps. I felt it was a satisfactory performance to reach
the col at 9.30 a.m. ; the cooHes had come well, though one
of them was burdened with the quarter-plate camera ; but
evidently their efforts had already tired them. Ahead of

* Calculated from the readings of two aneroids, allowing a correction
for the height of the camp as established later by Major Wheeler.

206 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

us was a long, curving snow arete, slightly corniced and
leading ultimately to a rocky shoulder. We thought that
once this shoulder was gained the summit would be within
our reach. Shortly after we went on two coolies dropped
out, and by 11.30 a.m. the rest had given up the struggle.
It was fortunate that they fell out here and not later, for
they were able to make their way down in our tracks and
regain the col below in safety. The angle steepened as we
went on very slowly now, but stiU steadily enough, until
we reached the rocks, a frail slatey structure with short
perpendicular pitches. From the shoulder onwards my
memories are dim. I have the impression of a summit
continually receding from the position imagined by sanguine
hopes and of a task growing constantly more severe, of
steeper sides, of steps to be cut, of a dwindling pace, more
frequent little halts standing where we were, and of
breathing quicker but no less deep and always conscious ;
the respu'atory engine had to be kept running as the
indispensable source of energy, and ever as we went on more
work was required of it. At last we found ourselves
without an alternative under an icy wall ; but the ice was
a delusion ; in the soft flaky substance smothering rocks
behind it we had strength left to cut a way up to the crest
again, and after a few more steps were on the summit
itself.

It was now 2.45 p.m. The aneroid used by Bullock,
which, after comparison with one of Howard-Bury's was
supposed to read low, registered 23,050 feet,* and we puffed
out our chests as we examined it, computing that we had
risen from our camp over 5,500 feet. The views both
earlier in the day and at this moment were of the highest
interest. To the East we had confirmed our impression of
the North Peak as having a high ridge stretching eastwards
and forming the side of whatever valley connected with

* The survey established the height of this peak as 22,520 feet, and
our subsequent experience suggests that aneroid barometers habitually
read too high when approaching the upper limit of their record.

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 207

the Arun River in this direction ; the upper parts of Everest's
North face had been clearly visible for a long time, and
we could now be certain that they lay back at no impossibly
steep angle, more particularly above the North col and up
to the North-east shoulder. All we had seen immediately
to the West of the mountain had been of the greatest interest,
and had suggested the idea that the crinkled summit there
might be connected not directly with Mount Everest
itself, but only by way of the South peak. And finally we
now saw the connections of all that lay around us with
the two great triangulated peaks away to the West, Gyachung
Kang, 25,990 and Cho-Uyo, 26,870 feet. While complaining
of the clouds which had come up as usual during the morning
to spoil our view we were not dissatisfied with the expansion
of our knowledge and we were elated besides to be where
we were. But our situation was far from perfectly secure.
The ascent had come very near to exhausting our strength ;
for my part I felt distinctly mountain-sick ; we might
reflect that we should not be obliged to cut more steps, but
we should have to proceed downwards with perfect accuracy
of balance and a long halt was desirable. However, the
clouds were now gathering about us, dark thunder-clouds
come up from the North and threatening ; it was clear we
must not wait ; after fifteen minutes on the summit we
started down at three o'clock. Fortune favoured us. The
wind was no more than a breeze ; a few flakes of snow were
unnoticed in our flight ; the temperature was mild ; the
storm's malice was somehow dissipated mth no harm done.
We rejoined the coolies before five o'clock and were back
in our camp at 7.15 p.m., happy to have avoided a descent
in the dark.

Our next plan, based on our experience of this long
mountain ridge, was to practise the coolies in the use of
crampons on hard snow and ice. But snow fell heavily
on the night of the 6th ; we deferred our project. It was
the beginning of worse weather ; the monsoon was breaking
in earnest. And though crampons afterwards came up

208 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

to our camps wherever we went they were not destined to
help us, and in the event were never used.

On July 8 we moved up with a fresh party of seven coolies,
taking only our lightest tents and no more than was necessary
for three nights, in the hope that by two energetic expeditions
we should reach the Western cwm which, we suspected, must
exist on the far side of the North-west arete, and learn enough
to found more elaborate plans for exploring this side of the
mountain should they turn out to be necessary. Again
we were fortunate in finding a good camping ground, better
even than the first, for the floor of this shelf was grassy
and soft, and as we were looking South across the West
Rongbuk Glacier we had the sun late as well as early. But
we were not completely happy. A Mummery tent may
be weU enough in fair weather, though even then its low
roof suggests a recumbent attitude ; it makes a poor dining-
room, even for two men, and is a cold shelter from snow.
Moreover, the cold and draught discouraged our Primus
stove — but I leave to the imagination of those who have
learned by experience the nausea that comes from the
paraffin fumes and one's dirty hands and all the mess that
may be. It was chiefly a question of incompetence, no
doubt, but there was no consolation in admitting that. In
the morning, with the weather still very thick and the snow
lying about us we saw the error of our ways. Is it not a
first principle of mountaineering to be as cqmfortable as
possible as long as one can ? And how long should we
require for these operations in such weather ? It was clear
that our Second Advanced Camp must be organised on a
more permanent basis. On the 9th therefore I went down
to the base and moved it up on the following day so as to
be within reach of our present position by one long march.
The new place greatly pleased me ; it was much more
sheltered than the lower site and the tents were pitched on
flat turf where a clear spring flowed out from the hiUside
and only a quarter of an hour below the end of the glacier.
Meanwhile Bullock brought up the Whymper tents and

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 209

more stores from the First Advanced Camp, which was now
estabhshed as a half-way house with our big 80-foot tent
standing in solemn grandeur to protect all that remained
there. On July 10 I was back at the Second Advanced
Camp and felt satisfied that the new arrangements, and
particularly the presence of our cook, would give us a fair
measure of comfort.

But we were still unable to move next day. The snow-
fall during the night was the heaviest we had yet seen and
continued into the next day. Probably the coohes were
not sorry for a rest after some hard work ; and we reckoned
to make a long expedition so soon as the weather should
clear. Towards evening on the 10th the clouds broke.
Away to the South-west of us and up the glacier was the
barrier range on the frontier of Nepal, terminated by one
great mountain, Pumori, over 24,000 feet high. To the
West Rongbuk Glacier they present the steepest slopes
on which snow can lie ; the crest above these slopes is
surprisingly narrow and the peaks which it joins are
fantastically shaped. This group of mountains, always
beautiful and often in the highest degree impressive, was
now to figure for our eyes as the principal in that oft-repeated
drama which seems always to be a first night, fresh and full
of wonder whenever we are present to watch it. The clinging
curtains were rent and swirled aside and closed again, lifted
and lowered ^nd flung wide at last ; sunlight broke through
with sharp shadows and clean edges revealed — and we were
there to witness the amazing spectacle. Below the terrible
mountains one white smooth island rose from the quiet
sea of ice and was bathed in the calm full Hght of the Western
sun before the splendour failed.

With hopes inspired by the clearing views of this lovely
evening, we started at 5.30 a.m. on July 12 to follow the
glacier round to the South and perhaps enter the Western
cwm. The glacier was a difficult problem. It looked easy
enough to follow up the medial moraine to what we called
the Island, a low mountain pushed out from the frontier

M.E. P

210 THE HECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

ridge into the great sea of ice. But the way on Southwards
from there would have been a gamble with the chances of
success against us. We decided to cross the glacier directly
to the South with a certainty that once we had reached
the moraine on the other side we should have a clear way
before us. It was exhilarating to set out again under a
clear sky, and we were delighted to think that a large part
of this task was accomplished when the sun rose full of
warmth and cheerfulness. The far side was cut off by a
stream of white ice, so narrow here that we expected with
a httle good fortune to get through it in perhaps half an
hour. We entered it by a frozen stream leading into a
bay with high white towers and ridges above us. A side
door led through into a further bay which took us in the
confidence of success almost through the maze. With
some vigorous blows we cut our way up the final wall and
then found ourselves on a crest overlooking the moraine
with a sheer ice-precipice of about 100 feet below us.

The only hope was to come down again and work round
to the right. Some exciting climbing and much hard work
brought us at length to the foot of the cliffs and on the right
side. The performance had taken us two and a half hours
and it was now nearly ten o'clock. Clouds had already
come up to obscure the mountains, and from the point of view
of a prolonged exploration the day was clearly lost. Our
course now was to make the best of it and yet get back so
early to camp that we could set forth again on the following
day. We had the interest, after following the moraine to
the corner where the glacier bends Southwards, of making
our way into the middle of the ice and finding out how
unpleasant it can be to walk on a glacier melted everywhere
into little vallej^s and ridges and covered with fresh snow.
We got back at 3 p.m.

On July 13, determined to make good, we started at
4.15 a.m. With the knowledge gained on the previous
day and the use of 250 feet of spare rope we were able to
find our way through the ice pinnacles and reached the far

;?5

o —

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 211

moraine in less than an hour and a half ; and we had the
further good fortune when we took to the snow to find it
now in such good condition that we were able to walk on
the surface without using our snow-shoes. As we proceeded
up the slopes where the snow steepened the weather began
to thicken and we halted at 8 a.m. in a thick mist with a
nasty wind and some snow falling. It was a cold halt.
We were already somewhat disillusioned about our glacier,
which seemed to be much more narrow than was to be
expected if it were really a high-road to the Western cwm,
and as we went on with the wind blowing the snow into
our faces so that nothing could be clearly distinguished we
had the sense of a narrowing place and a perception of the
even surface being broken up into large crevasses on one
side and the other. At 9.30 we could go no further. For
a few hundred yards we had been traversing a slope which
rose above us on our left, and now coming out on to a little
spur we stood peering down through the mist and knew
ourselves to be on the edge of a considerable precipice. Not
a single feature of the landscape around us was even faintly
visible in the cloud. For a time we stayed on with the
dim hope of better things and then reluctantly retired,
baffled and bewildered.

Where had we been ? It was impossible to know ; but
at least it was certain there was no clear way to the West
side of Everest. We could only suppose that we had reached
a col on the frontier of Nepal.

A further disappointment awaited us when we reached
camp at 1 p.m. I had made a simple plan to ensure our
supply of gobar* and rations from the base camp. The
suppUes had not come up and it was not the sort of weather
to be without a fire for cooking.

I shall now proceed to quote my diary : —

July 14. — A day of rest, but with no rcpubHcan
demonstrations. Very late breakfast after some snow in

* In the Rongbuk Valley there was no wood and our supply of yak dung
had to come up from Chobuk,

212 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

the night. Piquet after tiffin and again after dinner
was very consoHng. The little streams we found here on
our arrival are drying up ; it seems that not much snow
can have fallen higher.

July 15. — Started 6 a.m. to explore the glacier to West
and North-west. A very interesting view just short of the
Island ; the South peak appearing. Fifty minutes there
for photos ; then hurried on in the hope of seeing more
higher up and at a greater distance. It is reaUy a dry glacier
here but with snow frozen over the surface making many
pitfalls. We had a good many wettings in cold water up
to the knees. The clouds were just coming up as we halted
on the medial moraine. I waited there in hope of better
views, while Bullock took on the coohes. They put on
snow-shoes for the first time and seemed to go very well
in them. Ultimately I struggled across the glacier, bearing
various burdens, to meet them as they came down on a
parallel moraine. Snow-shoes seemed useful, but very
awkward to leap in. Bullock went a long way up the glacier,
rising very slightly towards the peak Cho-Uyo, 26,870 feet.
Evidently there is a flat pass over into Nepal near this peak,
but he did not quite reach it.

The topographical mystery centres about the West
Peak. Is there an arete connecting this with the great
rock peak South of Everest or is it joined up with the col
we reached the day before yesterday ? The shape of the
West cwm and the question of its exit will be solved if we
can answer these questions. Bullock and I are agreed
that the glacier there has probably an exit on the Nepal
side. It all remains extremely puzzling. We saw the
North col quite clearly to-day, and again the way up from
there does not look difficult.

A finer day and quite useful. Chitayn * started out with
us and went back. He appears to be seedy, but has been
quite hopeless as Sirdar down in the base camp and is without

* A useful coolie with experience in the Indian Army. I had used him
as second Sirdar.

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 213

authority. It is a great handicap having no one to look
after things down there. Chitayn is retui'ning to Tingri
to-morrow. I hope he wiU cheer up again.

July 16. — I made an early start with two coohes at
2.45 a.m. and followed the medial moraine to the Island.
Reached the near summit at sunrise about 5.30. Difficult
to imagine anything more exciting than the clear view of
aU peaks. Those near me to the South-west quickly bathed
in sun and those to the South and East showing me their
dark faces. To the left of our col of July 13 a beautiful
sharp peak stood in front of the gap between Everest and
the North Peak, Changtse. Over this col I saw the North-
west buttress of Everest hiding the lower half of the West
face which must be a tremendous precipice of rock. The
last summit of the South Peak, Lhotse, was immediately
behind the shoulder ; to the right (i.e. West) of it I saw a
terrible arete stretching a long distance before it turned
upwards in my direction and towards the West Peak. This
mountain dropped very abruptly to the North, indicattng
a big gap on the far side of our col. There was the mysterious
cwm lying in cold shadow long after the sun warmed me !
But I now half understand it. The col under the North-west
buttress at the head of the Rongbuk Glacier is one entrance,
and our col of July 13, with how big a drop one knows not,
another.

I stayed till 7 a.m. taking photos, a dozen plates exposed
in all. The sky was heavy and a band of cloud had come
across Everest before I left.

Back to breakfast towards 9 a.m. A pleasant morning
collecting flowers, not a great variety but some dehcious
honey scents and an occasional cheerful blue poppy.

July 17. — More trouble with our arrangements. The
Sirdar has muddled the rations and the day is wasted.
However, the weather is bad, constant snow showers from
1 to 8 p.m., so that I am somewhat reconciled to tliis reverse.

July 18. — Yesterday's plan carried out — to move up a
camp with Ught tents and make a big push over into the

214 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

West cwm ; eight cooHes to carry the loads. But the loads
have been too heavy. What can be cut out next time ?
I cannot see many unnecessary articles. Heavy snow
showers fell as we came up and we had rather a cheerless
encampment, but with much heaving of stones made good
places for the tents. A glorious night before we turned in.
Dark masses of cloud were gathered round the peak above
us ; below, the glacier was clear and many splendid mountains
were half visible. The whole scene was beautifully ht by
a bright moon.

July 19. — Started 3 a.m. ; still some cloud, particularly
to the West. The moon just showed over the mountains
in that direction which cast their strange black shadows on
the snowfield. One amazing black tooth was standing up
against the moonlight. No luck on the glacier and we had
to put on snow-shoes at once. An exciting walk. I so
much feared the cloud would spoil aU. It was just Hght
enough to get on without lanterns after the moon went
down. At dawn almost everything was covered, but not
by heavy clouds. Like guilty creatures of darkness surprised
by the light they went scattering away as we came up and
the whole scene opened out. The North ridge of Everest
was clear and bright even before sunrise. We reached the
col at 5 a.m., a fantastically beautiful scene ; and we looked
across into the West cwm at last, terribly cold and forbidding
under the shadow of Everest. It was nearly an hour after
sunrise before the sun hit the West Peak.

But another disappointment — it is a big drop about
1,500 feet down to the glacier, and a hopeless precipice. I
was hoping to get away to the left and traverse into the
cwm ; that too quite hopeless. However, we have seen
this Western glacier and are not sorry we have not to go up
it. It is terribly steep and broken. In any case work on
this side could only be carried out from a base in Nepal,
so we have done with the Western side. It was not a very
likely chance that the gap between Everest and the South
Peak could be reached from the West. From what we have

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 216

seen now I do not much fancy it would be possible, even
could one get up the glacier.

We saw a lovely group of mountains away to the South
in Nepal. I wonder what they are and if anytliing is known
about them. It is a big world !

With this expedition on July 19 our reconnaissance of
these parts had ended. We proceeded at once to move
down our belongings ; on July 20 all tents and stores were
brought down to the base camp and we had said good-bye
to the West Rongbuk Glacier.

So far as we were concerned with finding a way up the
mountain, little enough had been accomplished ; and yet
our growing view of the mountain had been steadily leading
to one conviction. If ever the mountain were to be climbed,
the way would not lie along the whole length of any one
of its colossal ridges. Progress could only be made along
comparatively easy ground, and anything hke a prolonged
sharp crest or a series of towers would inevitably bar the
way simply by the time which would be required to overcome
such obstacles. But the North arete commg down to the
gap between Everest and the North Peak, Changtse, is not
of this character. From the horizontal structure of the
mountain there is no excrescence of rock pmnacles in this
part and the steep walls of rock wliich run across the North
face are merged with it before they reach this part, which
is comparatively smooth and continuous, a bluntly rounded
edge. We had still to see other parts of the mountain,
but already it seemed unhkely that we would find more
favourable ground than this. The great question before
us now was to be one of access. Could the North col be
reached from the East and how could we attain this point ?

At the very moment when we reached the base camp
I received a note from Colonel Howard- Bury tellmg us that
his departure from Tingri was fixed for July 23 and that he
would be sleeping at Chobuk in the valley below us two

216 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

days later on his way to KJiarta. It was now an obvious
plan to synchronise our movements with his.

Besides the branch which we had already explored the
Rongbuk Glacier has yet another which joins the main
stream from the East about 10 miles from Everest. It had
always excited our curiosity, and I now proposed to explore
it in the initial stages of a journey across the unknown ridges
and valleys which separated us from Kliarta. I calculated
that we should want eight days' provisions, and that we
should just have time to organise a camp in advance and
start on the 25th with a selected party, sending down the
rest to join Howard-Bury. And it was an integral part
of the scheme that on one of the intervening days I should
ascend a spur to the North of the glacier where we proposed
to march in order to obtain a better idea of this country to
the East. But we were now in the thickest of the monsoon
weather ; the 21st and 22nd were both wet days and we
woke on the 23rd to find snow aU around us nearly a foot
deep ; it had come down as low as 16,000 feet. It was
hardly the weather to cut ourselves adrift and wander among
the uncharted spurs of Everest, and we thought of delaying
our start. Further it transpired that our organisation was
not running smoothly — it never did run smootlily so long
as we employed, as an indispensable Sirdar, a whey-faced
treacherous knave whose sly and calculated villainy too
often, before it was discovered, deprived our coolies of their
food, and whose acquiescence in his own illimitable
incompetence was only less disgusting than his infamous
dupUcity. It was the hopeless sense that tilings were bound
to go wrong if we trusted to this man's services — and we had
no one else at that time through whom it was possible to
order supphes from the natives — that turned the scale and
spoilt the plan. Even so, in the natural course of events,
I should have obtained my preliminary view. But on the
night of the 22nd I received from Howard-Bury an extremely
depressing piece of news, that all my photos taken with the
quarter-plate camera had failed — for the good reason that

THE NORTHERN APPROACH

217

the plates had been inserted back to front, a result of ignorance
and misunderstanding. It was necessary as far as possible
to repair this hideous error, and the next two days were
spent in a photographic expedition. And so it came about
that we saw no more until a much later date of the East
Rongbuk Glacier. Had our plan been carried out even in
the^^ smallest part by

HighRocK
Peak*

on June Zf

Observed^
Snowfield^''

» -^

a cursory survey of
what lay ahead, I
should not now have
to tell a story which
is lamentably incom-
plete in one respect.
For the East Rong-
buk Glacier is one
way, and the obvious
way when you see
it, to the North Col.
It was discovered by
Major Wheeler be-
fore ever we saw it,
in the course of his
photographic sur-
vey ; but neither he,
nor Bullock, nor I
have ever traversed
its whole length.

We should have
attached more im-
portance, no doubt,

in the early stages of reconnaissance, to the East Rongbuk
Glacier had we not been deceived in two ways by appearances.
It had been an early impression left in my mmd, at aU events,
by what we saw from Shihng, that a deep valley came do^^^l
to the East as the R.G.S. map suggests, di'ammg into the
Arun and having the North-east arete of Everest as its
right bank at the start. Fm'ther, the head of this valley

''Conjectured
-' Ridge

Observed

Valley
NORTH PEAK

SUMMIT

218 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

seemed to be, as one would expect, the gap between Everest
and the first peak to the North which itself has also an
Eastern arm to form the left bank of such a valley. The
impression was confirmed not only by an excellent view
from a hiU above Ponglet (two days before Tingri and about
35 miles North of Everest), but by aU nearer and more recent
views of the mountains East of the Rongbuk Glacier. The
idea that a glacier running parallel to the Rongbuk started
from the slopes of Everest itself and came so far to turn
Westward in the end hardly occurred to us at this time.
From anything we had seen there was no place for such a
glacier, and it was almost unimaginable that the great
mountam range running North from the North Col, Chang La,
was in no part a true watershed. We saw the East Rongbuk
Glacier stretching away to the East and perceived also a
bay to the South. But how, if this bay were of any
importance, could the glacier stream be so small ? We
had found it too large to cross, it is true, late ia the afternoon
of our first expedition, but only just too large ; and again it
seems now an unbehevable fact that so large an area of ice
should give so small a volume of water. The glacier streams
are remarkably small in all the country we explored, but
this one far more surprisingly small than any other we saw.
It was some measure of consolation in these ckcumstances
to make use of a gleam of fine weather. When the bad news
arrived on July 22 about the failure of my photographs
we had ceased to hear the raindrops pattering on the tent,
but could feel well enough when we pushed up the roof
that snow was lying on the outer fly. It was a depressing
evening. I thought of the many wonderful occasions when
I had caught the mountain as I thought just at the right
moment, its moments of most lovely splendour — of all those
moments that would never return and of the record of all
we had seen which neither ourselves nor perhaps anyone
else would ever see. again. I was not a cheerful companion.
Moreover, from the back of my mind I was warned, even
in the first despair of disappointment, that I should have

.9 O

THE NORTHERN APPROACH 219

to set out to repair the damage so far as I was able, and I
hated the thought of this expedition. These were our
days of rest after a month's high-Uving ; we were off with
one adventure and on with another ; tents, stores, everything
had been brought down to our base and we had said good-bye
to the West Rongbuk Glacier. The clouds were still about
us next morning and snow lay on the ground 9 inches deep.
But by midday much of the snow had melted at our level
and the clouds began to clear. At 2 p.m. we started up
with the Mummery tents and stores for one night. I made
my way with one coolie to a spot some Uttle distance above
our First Advanced Camp. As we pushed up the stormy
hillside the last clouds gathered about Everest, and Hngering
in the deep North cwm were dispersed and the great white-
mantled mountains lay all clear in the light of a glorious
evening. Before we raced down to join Bullock my first
dozen plates had been duly exposed ; whatever the balance
of hopes and fears for a fine morning to-morrow something
had been done already to make good.

My ultimate destination was the Island which I had
found before to command some of the most splendid and
most instructive views. I was close up under the slopes
of this Uttle mountain before sunrise next morning. It
has rarely been my lot to experience in the course of a few
hours so much variety of expectation, of disappointment
and of hope deferred, before the issue is decided. A pall
of cloud lying Uke a blanket above the glacier was no good
omen after the clear weather ; as the sun got up a faint
gleam on the ice encouraged me to go on ; presently the
grey clouds began to move and spread in all directions until
I was enveloped and saw nothing. Suddenly the frontier
crest came out and its highest peak towermg fantastically
above me ; I turned about and saw to the West and North-
west the wide glacier in the sun — beyond it Gyachung Kang
and Cho-Uyo, 26,870 to 25,990 feet : but Everest remained
hidden, obsciu-ed by an impenetrable cloud. I watched
the changing shadows on the white snow and gazed helplessly

220 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

into the grey mass continually roUed up from Nepal into
the deep hoUow beyond the glacier head. But a breeze
came up from the East ; the curtain was quietly withdrawn ;
Everest and the South Peak stood up against the clear blue
sky. The camera was ready and I was satisfied. A few
minutes later the great cloud rolled back and I saw no more.

Meanwhile Bullock had not been idle. He paid a visit
to the North cwm, more successful than mine in July, for
he reached the pass leading over into Nepal under the North-
west arete and had perfectly clear views of Chang La, of
which he brought back some valuable photos. But perhaps
an even greater satisfaction than reckonmg the results of
what we both felt was a successful day was ours, when we
listened in our tents that evening at the base camp to the
growling of thunder and reflected that the fair interval
aheady ended had been caught and turned to good account.

In snow and sleet and wind next morning, July 25, our
tents were struck. We turned our backs on the Rongbuk
Glacier and hastened along the path to Chobuk. The valley
was somehow changed as we came down, and more agreeable
to the eye. Presently I discovered the reason. The grass
had grown on the hillside since we went up. We were
coming down to summer green.

CHAPTER XIV
THE EASTERN APPROACH

The new base at Kharta established by Colonel Howard-
Bury at the end of July was well suited to meet the needs
of climbers, and no less agreeable, I believe, to all members
of the Expedition. At the moderate elevation of 12,300 feet
and in an almost ideal chmate, where the air was always
warm but never hot or stuffy, where the sun shone brightly
but never fiercely, and clouds floated about the hills and
brought moisture from the South, but never too much rain,
here the body could find a dehcious change when tired of
the discipline of high-living, and in a place so accessible
to traders from Nepal could easily be fed with fresh food.
But perhaps after life in the Rongbuk Valley, with hardly
a green thing to look at and too much of the endless unfriendly
stone-shoots and the ugly waste of glaciers, and even after
visions of sublime snow-beauty, a change was more needed
for the mind. It was a delight to be again in a land of
flowery meadows and trees and crops ; to look into the deep
green gorge only a mfle away where the Arun goes down
into Nepal was to be reminded of a rich vegetation and
teeming life, a contrast full of pleasure with Nature's
niggardliness in arid, wind-swept Tibet ; and the forgotten
rustle of wind in the ^viIlows came back as a soothing sound
full of grateful memories, banishmg the least thought of
disagreeable things.

The Kliarta base, besides, was convenient for our recon-
naissance. Below us a broad glacier stream joined the
Arun above the gorge ; it was the first met with since we
had left the Rongbuk stream ; it came down from the West
and therefore, presumably, from Everest. To follow it

221

222 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

up was an obvious plan as the next stage in our activities.
After four clear days for idleness and reorganisation at
Kharta we set forth again on August 2 with this object.
The valley of our glacier stream would lead us, we supposed,
to the mountain ; in two days, perhaps, we should see
Chang La ahead of us. A local headman provided by the
Jongpen and entrusted with the task of leading us to
Chomolungma would show us where it might be necessary
to cross the stream and, in case the vaUey forked, would
ensiu-e us against a bad mistake.

The start on this day was not propitious. We had
enjoyed the sheltered ease at Kharta ; the coolies were
dilatory and unwilling ; the distribution of loads was
muddled ; there was much discontent about rations, and
our Sirdar was no longer trusted by the men. At a village
where we stopped to buy tsampa some 3 miles up the valley
I witnessed a curious scene. As the tsampa was sold it
had to be measured. The Sirdar on his knees before a large
pile of finely ground flour was ladling it into a bag with a
disused Quaker Oats tin. Each measure-full was counted
by all the coolies standing round in a circle ; they were
making sure of having their full ration. Nor was this all ;
they wanted to see as part of their supplies, not only tsampa
and rice, but tea, sugar, butter, cooking fat and meat on
the Army scale. This was a new demand altogether beyond
the bargain made with them. The point, of course, had
to be clearly made, that for their so-called luxuries I must
be trusted to do my best with the surplus money (100 tankas
or thereabouts) remaining over from their allowances after
buying the flour and rice. These luxury supplies were
always somewhat of a difficulty ; the coolies had been very
short of such things on the Northern side — we had no doubt
that some of the ration money had found its way into the
Sirdar's pockets. It would be possible, we hoped, to prevent
this happening again. But even so the matter was not
simple. What the coolies wanted was not always to be
bought, or at the local price it was too expensive. On this

I'ETHANG-TSK.

THE EASTERN APPROACH 223

occasion a bountiful supply of chillies solved our difficulty.
After too many words, and not all in the best temper,
the sight of so many of the red, bright, attractive chillies
prevailed ; at length my orders were obeyed ; the coolies
took up their loads and we started off again.

With so much dissatisfaction in the air it was necessary
for Bullock and me to drive rather than lead the party.
In a valley where there are many individual farms and
little villages, the coolies' path is well beset with pitfalls
and with gin. Without discipline the Sahib might easily
find himself at the end of a day's march with perhaps only
half his loads. It was a slow march this day ; we had barely
accomplished 8 miles, when BuUock and I with the hindmost
came round a shoulder on the right bank about 4 p.m. and
found the tents pitched on a grassy shelf and looking up a
valley where a stream came in from our left. The Tibetan
headman and his Tibetan coolies who were carrpng some of
our loads had evidently no intention of going further, and
after some argument I was content to make the stipulation
that if the coolies (our own as well as the Tibetans) chose
to encamp after half a day's march, they should do a
double march next day.

The prospect was far from satisfactory : we were at a
valley junction of which we had heard tell, and the headman
pointed the way to the left. Here indeed was a valley,
but no glacier stream. It was a pleasant green nullah covered
with rhododendrons and juniper, but presented nothing
that one may expect of an important valley. Moreover,
so far as I could learn, there were no villages in this direction :
I had counted on reaching one that night with the intention
of buying provisions, more particularly goats and butter.
Where were we going and what should we find ? The headman
announced that it would take us five more days to reach
Chomolungma : he was told that he must bring us there
in two, and so the matter was left.

If the coolies behaved badly on this first day, they
certainly made up for it on the second. The bed of the

224 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

little vaUey which we now followed rose steeply ahead of
us, and the path along the hill slopes on its left bank soon
took us up beyond the rhododendrons. We came at last
for a mid-day halt to the shores of a lake. It was the first
I had seen in the neighbourhood of Everest ; a little blue
lake, perhaps 600 yards long, set on a flat shelf up there
among the clouds and rocks, a sympathetic place harbouring
a wealth of little rock plants on its steep banks ; and as
our present height by the aneroid was little less than 17,000
feet, we were assured that on this Eastern side of Everest
we should find Nature in a gentler mood. But we were
not satisfied with our direction ; we were going too much
to the South. Tln'ough the mists we had seen nothing to
help us. For a few moments some crags had appeared to
the left looming surprisingly big ; but that was our only
peep, and it told us nothing. Perhaps from the pass ahead
of us we should have better fortune.

At the Langma La when we reached it we found ourselves
to be well 4,000 feet above our camp of the previous night.
We had followed a track, but not always a smooth one,
and as we stayed in hopes of a clearing view, I began to
wonder whether the Tibetan coolies would manage to arrive
with their loads ; they were notably less strong than our
Sherpas and yet had been burdened with the wet heavy
tents. Meanwhile we saw nothing above our owti height.
We had hoped that once our col was crossed we should
bear more directly Westward again ; but the Tibetan headman
when he came up with good news of his coolies, pointed
our way across a deep valley below us, and the direction
of his pointing was nearly due South. Everest, we imagined,
must be nearly due West of Kharta, and our direction at
the end of this second day by a rough dead reckoning would
be something like South-west. We were more than ever
mystified. Fortunately our difficulties with the coolies
seemed to be ended. Two of our own men stayed at the
pass to relieve the Tibetans of the tents and bring them
quickly on. Grumblings had subsided in friendhness, and

THE EASTERN APPROACH 225

all marched splendidly on this day. They were undepressed
with the gloomy circumstance of again encamping in the
rain.

In the Sahibs' tent that night there took place a long
and fragmentary conversation with the headman, our Sirdar
acting as interpreter. We gained one piece of information :
there were two Chomolungmas. It was not difficult to
guess that, if Everest were one, the other must be Makalu.
We asked to be guided to the furthest Chomolungma.

The morning of August 4 was not more favourable to
our reconnaissance. We went down steeply to the valley
bed, crossed a stream and a rickety bridge, and wound on
through lovely meadows and much dwarf rhododendron
till we came to the end of a glacier and mounted by its left
bank. Towards mid- day the weather showed signs of clearing ;
suddenly on our left across the glacier we saw gigantic
precipices looming through the clouds. We guessed they
must belong in some way to Makalu. We were told that
this was the first Chomolungma, while the valley we were
now following would lead us to the other. It was easy to
conclude that one valley, this one, must come up on the
North side of IMakalu all the way to Everest. But we saw
no more. In a few moments the grey clouds blowing swiftly
up from below had enveloped us, rain began to fall heavily,
and when eventually we came to broad meadows above
the glaciers, where yaks were grazing and Tibetan tents
were pitched, we were content to stop. At least we should
have the advantage here of good butter and cream from
this dairy farm. There was indeed no point in going farther ;
we had no desire to run our heads against the East face
of Everest ; we must now wait for a view.

The weather signs were decidedly more hopeful as I
looked out of our tent next morning, and we decided at
once to spend the day in some sort of reconnaissance up
the valley. Presently away at the head of it we saw the
clouds breaking about the mountain-sides. Everest itself
began to clear ; the great North-east arete came out, cutting

M.E. Q

226 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

the sky to the right ; and little by little the whole Eastern
face was revealed to us.

As I recall now our first impression of the amazing scenery
around us, I seem chiefly to remember the fresh surprise
and vivid delight which, for all we had seen before, seemed
a new sensation. Even the map of the Kama VaUey, now
that we have it, may stir the imagination. Besides Everest
itself the crest of the South Peak, 28,000 feet high, and
its prodigious South-east shoulder overlook the Western
end ; while Makalu, 12 miles from Everest, thrusts out
Northwards a great arm and another peak to choke the
exit ; so that whereas the frontier ridge from Everest to
Makalu goes in a South-easterly direction, the Kangshung
Glacier in the main valley runs nearly due East. In this
spacious manner three of the five highest summits in the
world overlook the Kama VaUey.

And we now saw a scene of magnificence and splendour
even more remarkable than the facts suggest. Among
aU the mountains I have seen, and, if we may judge by
photographs, all that ever have been seen, Makalu is incom-
parable for its spectacular and rugged grandeur. It was
significant to us that the astonishing precipices rising above
us on the far side of the glacier as we looked across from
our camp, a terrific awe-inspiring sweep of snow-bound
rocks, were the sides not so much of an individual mountain,
but rather of a gigantic bastion or outwork defending Makalu.
At the broad head of the Kama Valley the two summits
of Everest are enclosed between the North-east arete and
the South-east arete bending round from the South Peak ;
below them is a basin of tumbled ice well marked by a
number of moraines and receiving a series of tributaries
pouring down between the buttresses which support the
mountain faces in this immense cirque. Perhaps the
astonishing charm and beauty here lie in the complications
half hidden behind a mask of apparent simplicity, so that
one's eye never tires of following up the lines of the great
aretes, of following down the arms pushed out from their

THE EASTERN APPROACH 227

great shoulders, and of following along the broken edge
of the hanging glacier covering the upper half of this Eastern
face of Everest so as to determine at one point after another
its relation with the buttresses below and with their abut-
ments against the rocks which it covers. But for me the
most magnificent and subUme in mountain scenery can
be made lovelier by some more tender touch ; and that, too,
is added here. When all is said about Chomolungma, the
Goddess Mother of the World, and about Chomo Uri, the
Goddess of the Turquoise Mountain, I come back to the
valley, the valley bed itself, the broad pastures, where our
tents lay, where cattle grazed and where butter was made,
the little stream we followed up to the valley head, wandering
along its well-turfed banks under the high moraine, the
few rare plants, saxifrages, gentians and primulas, so well
watered there, and a soft, familiar blueness in the air which
even here may charm us. Though I bow to the goddesses
I cannot forget at their feet a gentler spirit than theirs, a
little shy perhaps, but constant in the changing winds and
variable moods of mountains and always friendly.

The deviation from our intended line of approach involved
by entering the Kama Valley was not one which we were
likely to regret. In so far as our object was to follow up
a glacier to the North Col we were now on the wTong side
of a watershed. A spur of mountains continues Eastwards
from the foot of Everest's North-east arete ; these were
on our right as we looked up the Kama Valley ; the glacier
of our quest must lie on the far side of them. But the pursuit
of this glacier was not our sole object. We had also to
examine both the East face and North-east arete of our
mountain and determine the possibilities of attack on this
side. A plan was now made to satisfy us in all ways. We
chose as our objective a conspicuous snowy summit, Carpo-ri,
on the watershed and apparently the second to the East
from the foot of the North-east arete. Could we chmb it
we should not only see over into the valley North of us and
up to Chang La itself, we hoped, but also examine, from

228 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

the point most convenient for judging the steepness of its
slopes, the whole of the Eastern side of Mount Everest.

On August 6 the Whymper tents were taken up, and
a camp was made under a moraine at about 17,500 feet,
where a stream flows quietly through a flat space before
plunging steeply down into the vaUey. In this sheltered
spot we bid defiance to the usual snowstorm of the afternoon ;
perhaps as night came on and snow was still falUng we
were vaguely disquieted, but we refused to beheve in anything
worse than the heavens' passing spite, and before we put
out our candles the weather cleared. We went out into
the keen air ; it was a night of early moons. Mounting a
little rise of stones and faintly crunching under our feet
the granular atoms of fresh fallen snow we were already
aware of some unusual lovehness in the moment and the
scenes. We were not kept waiting for the supreme effects ;
the curtain was withdrawn. Rising from the bright mists
Mount Everest above us was immanent, vast, incalculable —
no fleeting apparition of elusive dream-form : nothing could
have been more set and permanent, stedfast like Keats' s
star, " in lone splendour hung aloft the night," a watcher
of all the nights, diffusing, it seemed universally, an exalted
radiance.

It is the property of all that is most sublime in mountain
scenery to be uniquely splendid, or at least to seem so, and
it is commonly the fate of the sublime in this sort very soon
to be mixed with what is trivial. Not infrequently we had
experience of wonderful moments ; it is always exciting
to spend a night under the stars. And such a situation
may be arranged quite comfortably ; lying with his head
but just within the tent a man has but to stir in his sleep
to see, at aU events, half the starry sky. Then perhaps
thoughts come tumbling from the heavens and sUp in at
the tent-door ; his dozing is an ecstasy : until, at length,
the alarm-watch sounds ; and after ? . . . Mean con-
siderations din it aU away, all that delight. On the morning
of August 7 the trivial, with us, preponderated. Something

THE EASTERN APPROACH 229

more than the usual inertia reigned in our frozen camp
at 2 a.m. The cook was feeling unwell ; the cooHes prolonged
their minutes of grace after the warning shout, daUied
with the thought of meeting the cold air, procrastinated,
drew the blankets more closely round them, and — snored
once more. An expedition over the snow to the outlying
tents by a half -clad Sahib, who expects to enjoy at least
the advantage of withdrawing himself at the last moment
from the friendly down-bag, is calculated to disturb the
recumbency of others ; and a kick-off in this manner to
the day's work is at all events exhilarating. The task of
extricating our frozen belongings, where they lay and ought
not to have lain, was performed with alacrity if not with
zeal ; feet did not loiter over sUppery boulders as we mounted
the moraine, and in spite of the half-hour lost, or gained,
we were well up by sunrise. Even before the first glimmer
of dawn the snow-mantled, slumbering monsters around
us had been somehow touched to life by a faint blue light
showing their form and presence — a hght that changed
as the day grew to a pale yellow on Everest and then to a
bright blue-grey before it flamed all golden as the sun hit
the summit and the shadow crept perceptibly down the
slope until the whole mountain stood bare and splendid
in the morning glory. With some premonition of what
was in store for us we had already halted to enjoy the scene,
and I was able to observe exactly how the various ridges
and summits caught the sun. It was remarkable that while
Everest was never, for a moment, pink, Makalu was tinged
with the redder shades, and the colour of the sky in that
direction was a livid Chinese blue red-flushed. Its bearing
from us was about South-east by South, and its distance
nearly twice that of Everest, which lay chiefly to the South-
west.

Tlie first crux of the expedition before us would evidently
be the ascent of a steep wall up to the conspicuous col lyuig
East of our mountam. The least laborious way was offered
by an outcrop of rocks. The obstacle looked decidedly

230 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

formidable and the coolies had little or no experience of
rock-climbing. But it proved a pleasure reminiscent of
many good moments once again to be grasping firm granite
and to be encouraging novices to tread dehcately by throwing
down an occasional stone to remind them of the perils of
clumsy movements. The coolies, as usual, were apt pupils,
and after agreeable exertions and one gymnastic performance
we aU reached the col at 9 a.m. with no bleeding scalps.

We had already by this hour taken time to observe
the great Eastern face of Mount Everest, and more particularly
the lower edge of the hanging glacier ; it required but little
further gazing to be convinced — to know that almost every-
where the rocks below must be exposed to ice faUing from
this glacier ; that if, elsewhere, it might be possible to cHmb
up, the performance would be too arduous, would take
too much time and would lead to no convenient platform ;
that, in short, other men, less wise, might attempt this
way if they would, but, emphaticaUy, it was not for us.

Our interest was rather in the other direction. We had
now gained the watershed. Below us on the far side was
a glacier flowing East, and beyond it two important rock
peaks, which we at once suspected must be two triangulated
points each above 23,000 feet. Was this at last the valley
observed so long ago from the hill above Shfling, more
than 50 miles away, to point up towards the gap between
Changtse and Everest ? As yet we could not say. The
head of the glacier was out of sight behind the Northern
slopes of our mountain. We must ascend further, probably
to its summit, to satisfy our curiosity — to see, we hoped,
Changtse and its relation to this glacier, and perhaps the
Chang La of our quest.

The task before us was not one which had suggested
from a distant view any serious difficulties. The angle of
sight from our breakfast-place on the col to the next white
summit West of us was certainly not very steep. But no
continuous ridge would lead us upwards. The East face
in front of us and the South face to our left presented two

|_ s^

:i o
::^ 6

THE EASTERN APPROACH 231

bands of fortification, crowned each by a fiat emplacement
receding a considerable distance, before the final cone. We
knew already that the snow's surface, despite a thin crust,
could not hold us, and counted on snow-shoes to save labour
at the gentler angles. But the escarpments in front of us
were imposing. The first yielded to a frontal attack pushed
home with a proper after-breakfast vigour. The second
when we reached it was a more formidable obstacle. The
steepness of the Eastern slope was undeniable and forbidding
and the edge of its junction with the South side was defined
by a cornice. On that side, however, lay the only hope.

We had first to traverse a broad gully. The powdery
snow lay deep ; we hesitated on the brink. Here, if any-
where, the unmelted powdery substance was Hkely to
avalanche. Confidence was restored in sufficient measure
by contemplating an island of rock. Here lay a solution.
By the aid of its sound anchorage the party was secured
across the dangerous passage. With his rope adequately
belayed by a coohe, though the manner was hardly pro-
fessional, the leader hewed at the cornice above his head,
fixed a fist-and-axe hold in the crest and struggled over.
Such performances are not accomplished at heights above
20,000 feet without the feeling that something has been
done. Appearances suggested the necessity of estabhshmg
the whole party firmly above the cornice before proceeding
many steps upward, and the first man had the diversion
of observing at his leisure the ungraceful attitudes and
explosive grunts of men strong indeed, but unaccustomed
to meet this kind of obstacle. But with the usual menace
of clouds, which even now were filling the head of the Kama
Valley, it was no season for delay ; and it was no place to
be treated hghtly. The angle was quite as steep as we
liked ; on the slopes to our left again we should evidently
be exposed to the danger of an avalanche. It was necessary
to avoid treading on our frail cornice and no less important
to keep near the edge. Here a foot of powdery snow masked
a disintegrated substance of loose ice. Notliing less than

232 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

a vigorous swinging blow had any other effect than to bury
the pick and require a fourfold effort to pull it out again.
Luckily one or even two such blows usually sufficed to make
a firm step. But 400 feet of such work seemed an ample
quantity. If was a relief at length to reach level snow, to
don our rackets again and to foUow a coohe bursting with
energy now sent first to tread a path. At 12.15 p.m. we
reached the far edge of this flat shoulder lying under the
final slopes of our mountain and at the most 500 feet below
the summit.

No one without experience of the problem could guess
how difficult it may be to sit down on a perfectly flat place
with snow-shoes strapped to the feet. To squat is clearly
impossible ; and if the feet are pushed out in front the
projection behind the heel tends to tilt the body backwards
so that the back is strained in the mere effort to sit without
falluig. The remedy of course is to take off the snow-shoes ;
but the human mountaineer after exhausting efforts is too
lazy for that at an elevation of 21,000 feet. He prefers not
to sit ; he chooses to lie — in the one convenient posture
under the circumstances — flat upon his back and with
his toes and snow-shoes turned vertically upwards. On
this occasion the majority of the party without more ado
turned up their toes.

The situation, however, was one of the greatest interest.
We were still separated from Mount Everest by a spur
at our own height turning Northwards from the foot of the
North-east arete and by the bay enclosed between this and
its continuation Eastward to which our mountain belonged.
But the distance from the North-east arete was small enough
and we were now looking almost directly up its amazing
crest. If any doubts remained at this time as to that line
of attack, they now received a cowp de grace. Not only was
the crest itself seen to be both sharp and steep, suggesting
an almost infinite labour, but the slopes on either hand
appeared in most places an impracticable alternative ;
and leading up to the great rock towers of the North-east

THE EASTERN APPROACH 233

shoulder, the final section, the point of a cruel siclde, appeared
effectually to bar further progress should anyone have been
content to spend a week or so on the lower parts. To discern
so much required no prolonged study ; to the right (North)
the country was more intricate. The summit of Changtse
was eventually revealed, as the clouds cleared off, beyond,
apparently a long way beyond, the crest of the spur in front
of us. To the extreme right, looking past the final slopes
of the white cone above us was a more elevated skyline and

23800

NORTH
COL

(CHANG -LA)

DIAGRAM SHOWING THAT THE KHARTA GLACIER DOES NOT
LEAD TO THE NORTH COL.

below it the upper part of the glacier, the lower end of which
we had seen earHer in the day descending Eastward. But
its extreme limit was not quite visible. We had still to
ask the question as to where exactly it lay. Could this
glacier conceivably proceed in an almost level course up
to Chang La, itself ? Or was it cut off much nearer to us
by the high skyUne which we saw beyond it ? Was it
possible, as in the second case must be, that this sky-
line was continuous with the East arete of Changtse, the
whole forming the left bank of the glacier ? If no answer
was absolutely certain, the probability at least was all on

234 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

one side — on the wrong side alike for our present and our
future plans. We could hardly doubt that the glacier-head
lay not far away under Chang La, but here near at hand
under another col ; beyond this must be the glacier of our
quest, turning East, as presumably it must turn beyond
the skyline we saw now, and beyond the rock peaks which
we had observed to the North of us when first we reached the
watershed.

One more effort was now required so that we might see
a httle more. Chang La itself was still invisible. Might we
not see it from the summit of our mountain ? And was
it not in any case an attractive summit ? An examination
of the various pairs of upturned toes where the prostrate
forms were still grouped grotesquely in the snow was not
encouraging. But the most vigorous of the coolies was
with us, Nyima, a sturdy boy of eighteen, who from the very
start of the Expedition had consistently displayed a willing
spirit in every emergency. To my demand for volunteers
he responded immediately, and soon persuaded a second
cooHe, Dasno, who had been going very strongly on this
day, to accompany him. As the tliree of us started off
the clouds suddenly boiled up from below and enveloped
us completely. A few minutes brought us to the foot of
the steepest slopes ; we took off our snow-shoes and crossed
a bergschrund, wading up to our thighs. Dasno had already
had enough and fell out. But the conical shape of our
peak was just sufficiently irregular to offer a defined blunt
edge where two surfaces intersected. Even here the snow
was deep enough to be a formidable obstacle at that steep
angle ; but the edge was safe from avalanches. As we
struggled on I glanced repeatedly away to the left. Presently
through a hole in the clouds all was clear for a moment
to the West ; again I saw Changtse, and now my eyes
followed the line of its arete descending towards Everest
until the col itself was visible over the spur in front of us.
The view was little enough ; the mere rim appeared ; the
wall or the slopes below it, all that I most wanted to see.

THE EASTERN APPROACH 235

remained hidden. We struggled on to the top, in all nearly
an hour's work of the most exhausting kind. The reward
was in the beauty pt the spot, the faintly-defined edges of
clean snow and the convex surfaces bent slightly back from
the steepness on every side to form the most graceful summit
I have seen. To the North-east we saw clearly for a minute
down the glacier. The rest was cloud, a thin veil, but all
too much, inexorably hiding from us Changtse and Chang La.

A disappointment ? Perhaps. But that sort of suffering
cannot be prolonged in a mind sufficiently interested.
Possibly it is never a genuine emotion ; rather an automatic
reaction after too sanguine hopes. And such hopes had
no part in our system. We counted on nothing. Days
as we found them were not seldom of the disappointing
kind ; this one had been of the best, remarkably clear and
fine. If we were baffled that was no worse than we expected.
To be bewildered was all in the game. But our sensation
was something beyond bewilderment. We felt ourselves
to be foiled. We were unpleasantly stung by this slap in
the face. We had indeed solved all doubts as to the East
face and North-east arete, and had solved them quickly.
But the way to Chang La, which had seemed almost within
our grasp, had suddenly eluded us, and had escaped, how
far we could not tell. Though its actual distance from
our summit might be short, as indeed it must be, the glacier
of our quest appeared now at the end of a receding vista ;
and this was all our prospect.

Our next plans were made on the descent. With the
relaxation of physical effort the feeling of dazed fatigue
wears off and a mind duly strung to activity may work well
enough. The immediate object was to reach our tents
not too late to send a cooHe down to the base camp the same
evening ; on the following morning a reinforcement of four
men would enable us to carry down all our loads with
sufficient ease, and with no delay we should move the whole
party along the next stage back towards Langma La —
and thus save a day. The main idea was simple. It still

236 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

seemed probable that the elusive glacier drained ultimately
Eastwards, in which case its waters must flow into the
Kharta stream ; thither we had now to retrace our steps
and follow up the main vaUey as we had originally intended ;
it might be necessary to investigate more vaUeys than one,
but there sooner or later a way would be found. Only,
time was short. At the earliest we could be back in the
Kharta Valley on August 9. By August 20 I reckoned
the preliminary reconnaissance should come to an end, if
we were to have suflicient time before the beginning of
September for rest and reorganisation at Kharta — and such
was the core of our plan.

These projects left out of account an entirely new factor.
In the early stages of the reconnaissance I had taken careful
note of the party's health. One or two of the coolies had
quickly fallen victims to the high altitudes ; but the rest
seemed steadily to grow stronger. Nothing had so much
surprised us as the rapid acclimatisation of the majority,
and the good effects, so far as they appeared, of living in
high camps. Both Bullock and myself left the Rongbuk
Valley feeling as fit as we could wish to feel. All qualms
about our health had subsided. For my part I was a
confirmed optimist, and never imagined for myself the
smallest deviation from my uniform standard of health
and strength. On August 7, as we toiled over the neve in
the afternoon, I felt for the first time a symptom of weariness
beyond muscular fatigue and beyond the vague lassitude
of mountain-sickness. By the time we reached the moraine
I had a bad headache. In the tent at last I was tired and
shivering and there spent a fevered night. The next morning
broke with undeniable glory. A photograph of our yester-
day's conquest must be obtained. I dragged myself and
the quarter-plate camera a few steps up to the crest of the
moraine — only to find that a further peregrination of perhaps
300 yards would be necessary for my purpose ; and 300
yards was more than I could face. I was perforce content
with less interesting exposures and returned to breakfast

THE EASTERN APPROACH 237

with the dismal knowledge that for the moment at all
events I was hors de combat. We learned a little later that
Colonel Howard-Bury had arrived the night before in our
base camp. It was easily decided to spend the day there
with him — the day I had hoped to save ; after the long
dragging march down the green way, which on the ascent
had been so pleasant with butterflies and flowers, I was
obliged to spend it in bed.

Three days later, on August 11, our tents were pitched
in a sheltered place well up the Kharta Valley, at a height
of about 16,500 feet. Two tributary streams had been
passed by, the first coming in from the North as being clearly
too small to be of consequence, and the second from the
South, because wherever its source might be, it could not
be far enough to the North. Ahead of us we had seen that
the valley forked ; we must follow the larger stream and
then no doubt we should come soon enough to the glacier
of our quest and be able at last to determine whether it
would serve us to approach Chang La. August 12, a day
of necessary idleness after three long marches, was spent
by the coolies in collecting fuel, of which we were delighted
to observe a great abundance, rhododendron and gobar
aU about us, and, only a short way down the valley, the
best we could hope for, juniper. Tlie last march had been
too much for me, and again I was obHged to keep my bed
with a sore throat and swollen glands.

It seemed certain that the next two days must provide
the cUmax or anticlimax of our whole reconnaissance. The
mystery must surely now be penetrated and the most
important discovery of all be made. A competition A;\dth
my companion for the honour of being first was, I hope, as
far from my thoughts as ever it had been. From the start
Bullock and I had shared the whole campaign and worked
and made our plans together, and neither for a moment had
envied the other the monopoly of a particular adventure.
Nevertheless, after all that had passed, the experience of
being left out at the finish would not be agreeable to me ;

238 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

I confess that not to be in at the death after leading the
hunt so long was a bitter expectation. But the hunt must
not be stopped, and on the morning of August 13, from
the ungrateful comfort of my sleeping-bag, I waved farewell
to Bullock. How many days would he be absent before he
came to tell his story, and what sort of story would it be ?
Would he know for certain that the way was found ? or how
much longer would our doubts continue ?

It was impossible to stay in bed mth such thoughts,
and by the middle of the morning I was sitting in the sun
to write home my dismal tale. A hint from one of the
coolies interrupted my meditations ; I looked round and
now saw, to my great surprise and unfeigned delight, the
approaching figure of Major Morshead. I had long been
hoping that he might be free to join us ; and he arrived at
the due moment to cheer my present solitude, to strengthen
the party, and to help us when help was greatly needed.
Moreover, he brought from WoUaston for my use a medical
dope ; stimulated by the unusual act of drug-taking, or
possibly by the drug itself, I began to entertain a hope for
the morrow, a feeling incommunicably faint but distinguish-
ably a hope.

Meanwhile Bullock, though he had not started early,
had got off soon enough in the morning to pitch his tents
if all went well some hours before dark, and in aU probability
at least so far up as to be within view of the glacier snout.
As the night was closing in a coolie was observed running
down the last steep sandy slope to our camp. He brought
a chit from Bullock : "I can see up the glacier ahead of
me and it ends in another high pass. I shall get to the
pass to-morrow morning if I can, and ought to see our glacier
over it. But it looks, after all, as though the most unHkely
solution is the right one and the glacier goes out into the
Rongbuk Valley."

Into the Rongbuk Valley ! We had discussed the
possibility. The glacier coming in there from the East
remained unexplored. But even if we left out of account

THE EASTERN APPROACH 239

all that was suggested by the East arete of Changtse and
other features of this country, there remained the unanswer-
able difficulty about the stream, the little stream which we
had but just failed to cross in the afternoon of our first
expedition. How could so little water drain so large an
area of ice as must exist on this supposition ?

In any case we were checked again. The mystery
deepened. And though the interest might increase, the
prospect of finding a way to Chang La, with the necessary
margin of time before the end of the month, was still
receding, and, whether or no the unexpected should turn out
to be the truth, the present situation suggested the unpleasant
complication of moving our base once more somewhere
away to the North.

On the following day with the gathering energy of
returning health I set forth with Morshead : we walked
in a leisurely fashion up the valley rejected by Bullock and
had the surprising good fortune of a clear sky until noon.
I soon decided that we were looking up the glacier where
we had looked down on the 7th, as Bullock too had decided
on the previous day : at the head of it was a high snow col
and beyond that the tip of Changtse. What lay between
them ? If a combe existed there, as presumably it did, the
bed of it must be high : there could hardly be room, I
thought, for a very big drop on the far side of the col.
Might not this, after all, be a sufficiently good approach,
a more convenient way perhaps than to mount the glacier
from its foot, wherever that might be ? The near col, so far
as I could judge, should easily be reached from this side.
Why not get to the col and find out what lay beyond it ?
The time had come to abandon our object of finding the foot
of a glacier in order to follow it up ; for we could more
easily come to the head of it and if necessary follow it down.

I was sanguine about this new plan, which seemed to
have good prospects of success and might obviate the
difficulties and inconvenience of shifting the base (possibly
again to the Rongbuk side, which I had no desire to revisit)

240 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

and, as I still felt far from fit, I was in some hopes now
that two more days would bring us to the end of our present
labours. Bullock very readily agreed to the proposal.
He brought no positive information from the col which he
had reached, though he inchned to the idea that the water
crossed at Harlung on our journey to Kharta, a moderate
stream, but perhaps too clear, might provide the solution
of our problem. A fresh bone was now thrown into our
stew. A letter arrived from Howard-Bury with an enclosure
from Wheeler, a sketch map of what he had seen more
particularly East of the Rongbuk Glacier, on which the
Eastern branch, with its Western exit, was clearly marked
where we now know it to be. It was, unfortunately, a very
rough map, professedly nothing more, and was notably
wrong in some respects about which we had accurate know-
ledge. We were not yet convinced that the head of the
East Rongbuk Glacier was reaUy situated under the slopes
of Everest, and not perhaps under the Eastern arm of
Changtse. Still, we had some more pickings to digest.
Our business was to reach the nearer pass, and I felt sure
that once we had looked over it to the other side whatever
doubts remained could be cleared up in subsequent dis-
cussion with Wheeler. Meanwhile, I hoped, we should
have discovered one way to Chang La, and a sufficiently
good one.

It took us in the sequel not two but four days to reach
the pass which was ultimately known as Lhakpa La
(Windy Gap). The story may serve as a fair illustration
of the sort of difiiculty with which we had to contend. It
was arranged on the 15th that we should meet Bullock's
coolies at the divide in the valley ; they were bringing down
his camp and we could all go on together : but our messenger
succeeded in collecting only half their number and much
delay was caused in waiting for the others. From here
we followed the Western stream, a stony and rather fatiguing
walk of two hours or so (unladen) up to the end of the
glacier, and then followed a moraine shelf on its left bank,

THE EASTERN APPROACH 241

I hoped we should find an easy way round to the obvious
camping place we had previously observed from the Carpo-ri.
But the shelf ended abruptly on steep stony slopes, clouds
obscured our view, and after our misfortunes in the morning
we were now short of time, so that it was necessary to stay
where we were for the night. A thick layer of mist was
still lying along the valley when we woke, and we could see
nothing, but were resolved, nevertheless, to reach the col
if possible. We went up, for the best chance of a view,
to the crest of the hill above us, and followed it to the summit
(6.30 a.m.). The view was splendid, and I took some good
photographs ; but the drop on the far side was more serious
than our hopes had suggested. We tried to make the best
of things by contouring and eventually halted for breakfast
on the edge of the glacier a long way North of the direct
line at 8.45 a.m. Before we went on we were again enveloped
in mist, and after stumbling across the glacier in snow-shoes
to the foot of an icefall, we turned back at 11 a.m. By that
time we were a tired party and could not have reached
the col ; and even had we reached it, we should have seen
nothing. Still we felt when we found our tents again that
with all we had seen the day had not been lost, and we
determined, before renewing our attempt on Lhakpa La,
to push on the camp. There was still time to send a message
down to the Sirdar so as to get up more coolies and suppUes
and move forward next day. From this higher camp we
hoped that the col might be reached at an early hour, and
in that case it would be possible for a party to cross it and
descend the glacier on the other side.

The first coolies who came uj) in the morning brought
a message from the Sirdar to the effect that supplies were
short and he could send none up. The rations were
calculated to last for another three days, but their distribu-
tion had been muddled. However, enough was subsequently
sent up to carry us over into the next day, though it was
necessary of course to abandon our project of a more distant
reconnaissance. Our camp was happily established in the

M.E. R

242 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

usual snowstorm. The weather, in fact, was not treating
us kindly. Snow was falling in these days for about eight
to ten hours on the average and we were relieved at last to
see a fine morning.

On August 18, with the low moon near setting, the three
of us with one coohe set forth on the most critical expedition
of our whole reconnaissance. Failure on this day must
involve us in a lamentable delay before the party could
again be brought up for the attack ; at the earliest we
should be able to renew the attempt four days later, and if
in the end the way were not established here the whole
prospect of the assault in September would be in jeopardy.
We scaled the Httle cHff on to the glacier that morning
with the full consciousness that one way or another it was
an imperative necessity to reach the col. The first few
steps on the glacier showed us what to expect ; we sank
in to our knees. Tlie remedy was, of course, to put on
rackets — which indeed are no great encumbrance, but a
growing burden on a long march and on steep slopes most
difficult to manage. We wore them for the rest of the day
whenever we were walking on snow. About dawn the light
became difficult ; a thin floatiug mist confused the snow
surfaces ; ascents and descents were equally indistiaguishable,
so that the errant foot might unexpectedly hit the slope
too soon or equally plunge down with sudden violence to
unexpected depths. Crevasses forced, or seemed to force,
us away to the right and over to the rocks of the left bank.
We were faced with one of those critical decisions which
determine success or failure. It seemed best to climb the
rocks and avoid complications in the icefall. There was
an easy way through on our left which we afterwards used ;
but perhaps we did well ; ours was a certain way though
long, and we had enough trudging that day ; the rocks,
though covered with snow to a depth of several inches, were
not difficult, and a long traverse brought us back to the
glacier at about 8.30 a.m.

Our greatest enemy as we went on was not, after aU, the

THE EASTERN APPROACH 243

deep powdery snow. The racket sank slightly below the
surface and carried a little snow each step as one lifted
it ; the work was arduous for the first man. But at a slow
pace it was possible to plod on without undue exhaustion.
The heat was a different matter. In the glacier-furnace
the thin mist became steam, it enveloped us with a clinging
garment from which no escape was possible, and far from
being protected by it from the sun's fierce heat, we seemed
to be scorched all the more because of it. The atmosphere
was enervating to the last degree ; to halt even for a few
minutes was to be almost overwhelmed by inertia, so difficult
it seemed, once the machinery had stopped and lost
momentum, to heave it into motion again. And yet we
must go on in one direction or the other or else succumb
to sheer lassitude and overpowering drowsiness. The final
slopes, about 700 feet at a fairly steep angle, undoubt-
edly called for greater efforts than any hitherto required
of us.

Tlie importance of breathing hard and deeply had
impressed itself upon us again and again. I had come to
think of my own practice as a very definite and conscious
performance adopted to suit the occasion. The principles
were always the same — to time the breathing regularly
to fit the step, and to use not merely the upper part of the
lungs, but the full capacity of the breathing apparatus,
expanding and contracting not the chest only, but also the
diaphragm, and this not occasionally but with every breath
whenever the body was required to work at high pressure.
Probably no one who has not tried it would guess how difficult
it is to acquire an unconscious habit of deep breathing.
It was easy enough to set the machine going in the right
fashion ; it was another task to keep it running. The
moment attention to their performance was relaxed, the lungs
too would begin to relax their efforts, and often I woke
from some day-dream with a feehng of undue fatigue, to
find the cause of my lassitude only in the lungs' laziness. The
best chance of keeping them up to their work, I found, was

244 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

to impose a rhythm primarily upon the lungs and swing
the legs in time with it.

The practice employed for walking uphiU under normal
conditions is exactly contrary, in that case the rhythm is
consciously imposed on the legs and the rest of the body
takes care of itself.

During the various expeditions of our reconnaissance
I came to employ two distinct methods of working the legs
with the lungs. As soon as conscious breathing was necessary
it was my custom deliberately to inhale on one step and
exhale on the next. Later, at a higher elevation, or when
the expenditure of muscular energy became more exhausting,
I would both inhale and exhale for each step, in either case
timing the first movement of lifting the leg to synchronise
with the beginning, so to speak, of the breathing-stroke.
On this occasion as we pushed our way up towards Lhakpa
La I adopted a variation of this second method, a third
stage, pausing a minute or so for the most furious sort of
breathing after a series of steps, forty or thirty or twenty,
as the strength ebbed, in order to gain potential energy for
the next spasm of lifting efforts. Never before had our lungs
been tested quite so severely. It was well for us that these
final slopes were no steeper. It was difficult and tiring enough
as it was to prevent the rackets sliding, though without them
we could not possibly have advanced in such snow. But
happily the consequences of a slip were not likely to be
serious. We were able to struggle on without regarding
dangers, half- dazed with the heat and the glare and with
mere fatigue, occasionally encouraged by a glimpse of the
skyline above us, a clean edge of snow where the angle set
back to the pass, more often enveloped in the scorching
mist which made with the snow a continuous whiteness,
so that the smooth slope, even so near as where the foot
must be placed next, was usually indistinguishable. We
had proceeded a considerable distance and I was satisfied
with our progress, when the leader broke the monotony ;
he was seen to hesitate in the act of stepping up, to topple

THE EASTERN APPROACH 245

over and fall headlong downwards. This time he had guessed
wrong ; his foot had hit unexpectedly against the steepening
slope. Somehow he had passed in extreme fatigue from the
physical state of stable equilibrium ; he had become such a
man as you may " knock down with a feather," and this
little misadventure had upset his balance. Mere sxu-prise
gave him strength to stop his slide. He raised himself,
disgusted, to his feet again and after sundry gruntings the
party went on.

Some little way further up Major Morshead, who was
walldng last in the party, with one brief exclamation to tell
us what he intended, quietly untied the rope and remained
where he was in his steps, unable to go further.

At length we found ourselves on flatter ground ; the
pass was still invisible, how far ahead of us we could not
guess. Unexpectedly we came upon the brink of a crevasse.
We worked round it, vaguely wondering whether after all
our pains we were to meet with many troubles of this sort.
And then after a few more steps we were visibly on some
edge of things ; we had reached the col itself.

Some twenty minutes later, as we sat on the snow gazing
most intently at all that lay about us, Bullock and I were
surprised by a shout. A moment later Major Morshead
rejoined us, to the great rejoicing of all three.

It was about 1.15 p.m. when the first two of us had
reached Lhakpa La ; the clouds, which had been earlier
only a thin veil, rent occasionally to give us clear glimpses,
had thickened perceptibly during the last hour, so that we
had now no hope of a clear view. In a sense, despite our
early start from a high camp, we were too late. Little was
to be seen above our level. The slopes of Everest away on
our left, were visible only where they impinged upon the
glacier. But we were not actually in cloud on the col. The
South-facing rocks of Changtse presented their profile, steep
and jagged, an imposing spectacle so far up as we could
see ; between them and Everest we looked down on a broad
bay, the smooth surface of which was only occasionally

246 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

broken by large crevasses. The descent to it from where
we were could also be seen well enough, and we judged it
perfectly simple and not much more than 800 feet.* The
East ridge of Changtse had no existence for us ; we looked
across at what presumably were the splayed-out slopes
supporting it. Below them was a narrow glacier (it grew
when we crossed it to broader dimensions), shaping its
course somewhat to the West of North, joined after losing
its white snow-covering by another and cleaner glacier
coming steeply down from the left, then apparently bending
with this confluent to the right, and finally lost to view.
We could see no more ; the mountain sides, which must
hem it in on the North, remained completely hidden, and
for all we had seen the exit of this glacier was still a
mystery.

Another great question remained unsolved. We had
been able to make out the way across the head of the glacier
towards the wall under Chang La ; and the way was easy
enough. But the wall itself, in spite of some fleeting glimpses
and partial revelations, we had never really seen. We
conjectured its height should be 500 feet or little more ;
and it was probably steep. It had been impossible to found
an opinion as to whether the col were accessible. Never-
theless, I held an opinion, however flimsy the foundations.
I had seen the rim of the col from both sides, and knew that
above it on either hand were unserrated edges. When we
added to whatever chances might be offered by the whole
extent of the wall, which was considerable, the possibflities
of finding a way to the col by the slopes of Everest to the
South or by those of Changtse to the North, I felt we had
enough in our favour. I was prepared, so to speak, to bet
my bottom doUar that a way could be found, and was resolved
that before we turned homewards this year we must get
up from the East. When I thought of the 4,000 feet on
the other side, the length combined with the difficulties,
the distance that would necessarily separate us there from

* It turned out to be a full 1,200 feet.

a "rt

THE EASTERN APPROACH 247

any convenient base and all the limitations in our strength,
I could have no reasonable doubt that here to the East lay
the best chance of success.

It remained to determine by which of two possible routes
we should reach the glacier-head between Lhakpa La and
Chang La. Presuming that Wheeler was right we could
use the old base at the foot of the Rongbuk Glacier which
was only one stage, though a very long one, from Chobuk,
and proceed simply enough by two rough marches and one
which should be easier to a camp at the foot of the wall or
possibly to the col itself. On the East we could use as an
advanced base a place two easy marches from Kliarta ;
from there I reckoned one long day and two easy ones,
provided the snow were hard, to Chang La. Against this
route was the loss of height in crossmg Lhakpa La ; and
for it the convenience of a good encampment on stones at
20,000 feet, better than anything we might expect to find
at a similar elevation on the other side. So far the pros
and cons, were evenly balanced. But there was one great
and perhaps insuperable obstacle in working from the
Rongbuk Valley. We had always found difficulties there
in obtaining an adequate supply of fuel. There is no wood
at Chobuk or for some distance below it. A few small
bushes grow in a Httle patch of vegetation by the riverside
an hour higher up. But it is a very niggardly supply, and
when I thought of the larger scale of the preparations we
should now have to make, it became clear that we should
have to rely on gobar, which, besides being a more extravagant
fuel in the sense that it gives less fire for a given weight
than wood, is also difficult to get in the Rongbuk Valley,
for httle enough is to be found there, and the monastery
at Choyhng is a large consumer. On the other hand, in
the Kharta Valley we were in a land of plenty. Gobar and
rhododendron were to be had within a stone's tlirow of our
present advanced base camp, and a Httle lower was an
abundance of juniper. Food supphes also were better
here ; fresh vegetables and eggs, luxuries never seen on

248 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

the other side, could easily be obtained from Kharta, and
even the sheep in this region could be praised at the expense
of the Rongbuk breed, which was incomparably skinny ;
lurkmg in the thigh of one recently kiUed we had actually
discovered a nugget of fat.

And presuming Wheeler were wrong ? In any case we
knew enough of the country to be sure that a valley fiu:ther
to the North would offer us little better than the Rongbuk
Valley, for it must be situated in the drier area unvisited
by the monsoon currents from the Arun. The conclusion
was di'awn as we came down from Lhakpa La more swiftly
than the reader of these arguments might suppose. We
had now found a way to approach Chang La — not an ideal
way, because it would involve a descent, and not one that
could be used immediately ; but good enough for our purpose.
If laden coohes could not be brought to the Lhakpa at
present over so much soft snow they might find the march
to their liking later ; for good snow at angles not too steep
involves far less labour than rougher ground ; and might
we not expect the snow to harden before long ? The whole
plan of campaign had been founded upon the belief that
September would be the best month for climbing, and our
greatest efforts, some sort of an assault upon the mountain,
were timed to take place then. We must now proceed
upon the assumption that what the wise men prophesied
about the matter would come true ; and they promised a
fine September. About the beginning of the month the
monsoon would come to an end ; then we should have a
succession of bright, clear days to melt the snow and cold,
starry nights to freeze it hard. At worst the calm spell
would only be broken by a short anger. In September,
perhaps a fortnight hence, on these same slopes where now
we toiled we should find a soHd substance beneath our feet
and an easy way.

The abiding thought, therefore, after the first rush
downwards on the steep slopes below the col contained a
measure of solid satisfaction. Wc had now brought to an

THE EASTERN APPROACH 249

end our preliminary reconnaissance. Ahead of us was a
new phase in our operations, and one which should hold in
store for us the finest adventure of all, the chmax of all
reconnoitring expeditions, that advance which was to bring
us as near to the summit as our strength would take us. As
we plodded on, retracing our steps, some little satisfaction
was highly acceptable. To the tired party even descent
seemed laborious. We reached the edge of the glacier
where we had come on to it at 5.30 p.m. But the march
from there to our lower camp was both long and rough.
Major Morshead, who had not been trained with Bullock
and me to the pace of such expeditions, had kept up so far
in the gamest fashion ; but he was now much exhausted.
The day ended with a series of little spurts, balancing over
the snow-sprmkled boulders along and along the vaUey,
in the dim misty moonlit scene, until at 2 o'clock in the
morning we reached our lower camp, twenty-three hours
after the early start.

On August 20 we went down to Kharta for ten days'
rest and reorganisation. The party was gathering there
for the assault, in which all were to help to the best of their
powers. Col. Howard-Bury and Mr. Wollaston were there ;
Dr. Heron came in on the following day, and a little later
Major Wheeler. A conversation with this officer, who had
been working in the Rongbuk Valley since Bullock and I
had left it, was naturally of the highest interest, and he
now confirmed what his sketch-map had suggested : that
the glacier on to which we had looked down from Lhakpa
La drained into the Rongbuk Valley. But this certain
knowledge could have no bearing on our plans ; we remained
content with the way we had found and troubled our heads
no more for the present about the East Rongbuk Glacier.

CHAPTER XV

THE ASSAULT

In the agreeable climate of Kharta we were sufficiently
occupied with the results of photography and preparations
for the future ; and there was time besides for unmixed
idleness, which we knew how to appreciate. Our thoughts
turned often to the weather. Local lore confirmed our
expectations for September, and we looked each day for
signs of a change. It was arranged, in hope if not in
confidence, to move up on the first signs of improvement.
Already before we came down to Kharta our Advanced
Base Camp had been moved up ; it was now situated at
about 17,300 feet on a convenient grassy plateau and only
a reasonable stage below our 20,000-foot camp, where some
light tents and stores had also been left. At these two camps
we had, in fact, left everything which we should not absolutely
require at Kharta, so that few mountaineering stores would
have to be carried forward from the Base when we came
up again. Our first task would be to supply the Advanced
Base with food and fuel, and a start had already been made
by collecting here a pile of wood, nominally thirty loads.
Transport in any case was not likely to be a difficulty in
the early stages. Local coolies could easily be hired, and
Howard-Bury was to follow us up after a short interval
with all available strength to help in every possible way.

The first object which our plans must include was, of
course, to reach Chang La ; by finding the way to this point
we should establish a line of attack and complete a stage
of our reconnaissance. Secondly we must aim at reaching
the North-east Shoulder. In so far as it was an object of
reconnaissance to determine whether it was possible to climb

250

THE ASSAULT 251

Mount Everest, our task could never be complete until we
had actually climbed it ; but short of that it was important
to have a view of the final stage, and could we reach the
great shoulder of the arete we should at least be in a better
position to estimate what lay between there and the summit.
Finally we saw no reason to exclude the supreme object
itself. It would involve no sacrifice of meaner ends ; the
best would not interfere with the good. For if it should
turn out that the additional supplies required for a longer
campaign were more than our coolies could carry, we would
simply drop them and aim less high.

In organising the assault we had first to consider how
our camps could be established, at Lhakpa La or perhaps
better beyond it at a lower elevation, at Chang La, and
finally as high as possible, somewhere under the shoulder,
we thought, at about 26,500 feet. From the camp on
Chang La we should have to carry up ten loads, each of
15 lb., which would provide tents enough, and sleeping-
sacks and food for a maximum of four Sahibs and four
coolies ; sixteen cooKes were allowed for this task ; twelve
therefore would have to return on the day of their ascent
and sleep at Chang La, and on the assumption that they
would require an escort of Sahibs who must also sleep at
this camp, four small tents must remain there, making six
in all to be carried up to this point. The lower end of the
ladder must be so constructed as to support this weight at
the top. It was comparatively a simple matter to provide
the earher camps. The first above the advanced base —
that at 20,000 feet — could be filled before we moved up to
sleep there, the coolies returning on the same day whenever
they carried up loads. And the same plan could be adopted
for the second at Lhakpa La ; only one journey there, I
calculated, would be required before we started in force
from the 20,000-foot camp to go straight ahead without delay.
The crux would lie in the stage from Lhakpa La to Chang
La. At the most we should have twenty-three cooHes,
sixteen who had been all along with the cHmbing party,

252 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

three whom Wheeler had partially trained, and four more
Sherpas, the maximum number being determined by the
supply of boots. But it would not be necessary to carry
on all the loads from Lhakpa La ; and return journeys could
be made from Chang La both by those who were not to stay
there and by the twelve already mentioned who might
fetch supplies if necessary on the final day of the assault.
This plan was never executed in its later stages, and we
cannot know for certain whether it would have held good.
But it may be conjectured, in view of our experience, that
the weakest link would have broken ; either an extra day
would have been spent between Lhakpa La and Chang La,
or, if we had reached Chang La according to programme
with the minimum of supplies, the coolies would not have
been brought to this point a second time and the climbing
party would have been cut off from its reserves. And,
granted the most favourable conditions for the attempt,
in asking the coolies to carry loads of 30 lb. on two consecutive
days at these high altitudes, we were probably expecting
too much of them. It must be concluded, if this opinion
is correct, that we had not enough coolies for what we
intended.

On the last day of August, Bullock and I were estabhshed
once again at our Advanced Base. The weather had not
yet cleared, though it was showing some signs of change.
But it had been necessary to move up for the coolies' sake.
At Kharta, where they found little to amuse them and no
work to employ their time, they had sought diversion with
the aid of liquor and become discontented and ill-affected.
They were badly in need of a routine, which at the Advanced
Base was easily enough provided. Besides, I wanted to
be ready, and it seemed not too soon to begin carrying loads
up to the next camp. There was no occasion for hurry
in the event. We were obUged to wait nearly three weeks,
until September 19, before moving forward. The delay
served no useful purpose, the work of supplying our present
needs and providing for the future was sufficiently spread

THE ASSAULT 253

over the long tale of days, but interspersed with more rest
and leisure than anyone required.

In some respects life at the Advanced Base compared
favourably with our experience at other camps. The place
had a charm of its own. The short turf about us, the
boulders and little streams reminded me of Welsh hillsides ;
and these high pastures were often decorated by the briUiant
blues of Gentiana ornata and by the most exquisite of
saxifrages, which, with the yellow and ochre markings on the
cream glaze of its tiny bowl, recalls the marginal ornament
on some Persian page. Whenever the weather cleared
for a few hours we saw down the valley a splendid peak in
a scene of romantic beauty, and by walking up to a stony
shoulder only 2,000 feet above us, we had amazing views of
Everest and Makalu. And it was an advantage during
these days of waiting to be a larger party, as we soon became.

Bury and WoUaston, and also Kaeburn whom we rejoiced
to see again, had come up on the 6th, Morshead and Wheeler
on the 11th, and for two nights Heron was of our company.
We made little excursions to keep ourselves fit, and on one
occasion enjoyed some rock-climbing. But it amused nobody
to watch the procession of clouds which precipitated sleet
by day and snow by night, and our appetite for adventure
could not be stimulated by making time pass in some
endurable fashion and counting the unhopeful signs.

Under these circumstances I became more than ever
observant of the party's physical condition. I find a passage
in one of my letters written during this period of waiting
in which I boast of finding myself " still able to go up about
1,500 feet in an hour — not bad going at these altitudes " —
a reassuring statement enough but for the one word " still,"
which betrays all my anxiety. In fact there was too much
cause to be anxious. Three of our strongest coolies wTre
ill at this camp ; others seemed to be tired more easily than
they should be. And what of the Sahibs ? At least it
must be said that several of them were not looking their
best. BuUock, though he never complained, seemed no

254 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

longer to be the fit man he was at the end of July. And for my
part I began to experience a certain lack of exuberance when
going up hiU. I came to reaUse that aU such efforts were unduly
exhausting ; my reserve of strength had somehow diminished.
The whole machine, in fact, was running down; the days
continued to pass with their cloud and rain and snow, always
postponing our final effort to a later date and a colder season ;
and with them our chances of success were slowly vanishing.
When at last the weather cleared, it was evident that
the fate of our enterprise would be decided by the sun's
power to melt the snow. In a subsequent chapter I shall
have more to say about the snow's melting ; it may suffice
to remark here that, before we left the Advanced Base, I
had good reason to expect that we should meet adverse
conditions, and was resolved at the same time that nothing
was to be gained by waiting. The coolies were lightly laden
up to the First Advanced Camp and sufficiently unfatigued
to proceed next day. On the 20th, therefore, leaving Bullock
to accompany Wheeler, Morshead and I set forth to get
fourteen loads up to Lhakpa La. We had one spare coolie
who carried no load, and Sanglu, who was now our acting
Sirdar, four of us in all, to break the trail for the loaded
men. Snow-shoes were not carried because there were
not enough to go round. Though our prospects of
reaching a high point on Everest were already sufficiently
dim, I intended to carry out the original plan until obliged
by circumstances to modify it ; it might prove necessary
to spend an extra day in reaching Chang La, and in that
case we could perhaps afford to stop short of Lhakpa La
and establish our camp below its final slopes. But if the
strain on this first day was likely to be severe, I argued that
the coolies could rest to-morrow, and that the second journey
in frozen tracks would be easy enough. That we should
be passing the night a few hundred feet higher (at 22,500
feet) was a relatively unimportant consideration. The
great matter was to put heart into the coolies ; it would
be infinitely more encouraging to reach the crest with a

THE ASSAULT 255

sense of complete achievement, to see the clear prospect
ahead and to proceed downwards on the other side.

Om' start at an early hour on the 20th was propitious
enough. It was the same moonlit glacier of our expedition
a month before as we made good our approach to its surface.
But the conditions were altered. For the first time since
we had come to these mountains we experienced the wonderful
delight of treading snow that is both crisp and soHd. We
walked briskly over it, directly towards Mount Everest,
with all the hope such a performance might inspire. The
night was exceedingly cold and there was no untoward
delay. In less than an hour we were at the foot of the icefall.
We were determined on this occasion not to avoid it by the
rocks of the left bank, but to find a quicker way through
the tumbled ice. At first all went well. A smooth-floored
corridor took us helpfully upwards. And then, in the dim
light, we were among the crevasses. To be seriously held
up here might well be fatal to our object, and in the most
exciting kuid of mountaineering adventures we had the
stimulus of this thought. We plunged mto the maze and
struggled for a little time, crossing frail bridges over fantastic
depths and making steps up steep little waUs, until it seemed
we were in serious trouble. One leap proposed by the leader
proved too much for some of the laden coolies and a good
deal of pushing and pullmg was required to bring them over
the formidable gap. We had begun to waste time. Halted
on a sharp little crest between two monstrous chasms Morshead
and I discussed the situation, and thereafter gravely proceeded
to reconnoitre the ground to our left. In ten minutes we
came to another corridor Hke the first, which brought us
out above the icefall.

We were well satisfied with our progress as we halted
at sunrise, and it was a pleasant change to get our feet out
of the snow and knock a little warmth into chilled toes.
But our confidence had ebbed. Even as we entered the
icefall our feet had occasionally broken the crust ; as we
came out of it we were stampmg a trail.

256 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

Dorji Gompa, our unladen coolie, and perhaps the
strongest man of all, took the lead when we went on, and
plugged manfully upwards. But already the party was
showing signs of fatigue. One coohe, and then two others,
fell out and could not be induced to come further. I sent
Dorji Gompa back to bring on one of their loads. Morshead,
Sanglu and I took turns ahead and soon came to the worst
snow we had encountered anywhere. In it no firm steps
could be stamped by the leaders to save the coolies behind,
and each man in turn had to contend with the shifting
substance of fine powder. The party straggled badly. It
was necessary for some of us to press on and prove that
the goal could be reached. Many of the men were obliged
to halt at frequent intervals. But time was on our side.
Gradually the party fought its way up the final slopes. As
we approached the pass I looked back with Morshead over
the little groups along our track and saw some distance
below the last moving figure another lying huddled up on
the snow. I soon learnt the meaning of this : it was Dorji
Gompa who lay there. He had carried on not one load as
I had asked him, but two, until he had fallen there dazed
and exhausted.

At length eleven loads reached the pass and two more
were only 800 feet lower. If we had not done all we set
out to do I was satisfied we had done enough. We had
established tracks to Lhakpa La which should serve us weU
when they had frozen hard, and not too many loads remained
below to be brought up two days later.

We now obtained a clear view of Chang La ; it was
possible to make more exact calculations, and it was evident
we must modify our plans. We saw a wall of formidable
dimensions, perhaps 1,000 feet high ; the surface was
unpleasantly broken by insuperable bergschrunds and the
general angle was undoubtedly steep. The slopes of Everest
to the South were out of the question, and if it were possible
to avoid a direct assault by the North side the way here
would be long, difficult and exceedingly laborious. The

THE ASSAULT 257

wall itself offered the best chance, and I was in good hopes
we could get up. But it would not be work for untrained
men, and to have on the rope a number of laden coolies,
more or less mountain sick, conducted by so small a nucleus
as three Sahibs, who would also presumably be feeling the
effects of altitude, was a proposition not to be contemplated
for a moment. We must have as strong a party as possible
in the first place, simply to reach the col, and afterwards to
bring up a camp, if we were able, as a separate operation.
With this idea I selected the party. Wollaston felt that
his place of duty was not with the van ; only Wheeler besides
had sufficient mountaineering experience, and it was decided
that he alone should accompany Bullock and myself on
our first attempt to reach the col. Nevertheless, it seemed
undesirable to abandon so early the hope that Bury and
Morshead would be of use to us later on ; and Wollaston
clearly must start with us from the 20,000-foot camp where
all had gathered on the 20th.

I had hoped we should have a full complement of coohes
on the 22nd, but when morning came it was found that
three, including two of the best men, were too ill to start.
Consequently some of the loads were rather heavier than I
intended. But all arrived safely at Lhakpa La before midday.
Visited by malicious gusts from the North-west, the pass
was cheerless and chilly ; however, the rim afforded us
some protection, and we decided to pitch our tents there
rather than descend on the other side with the whole party,
a move which I felt might complicate the return. I was
not very happy about the prospects for the morrow. For
my o^vTi part I had been excessively and unaccountably
tired in coming up to the col ; I observed no great sparkle
of energy or enthusiasm among my companions ; Sanglu
was practically Jiors de combat ; some of the coolies had with
difficulty been brought to the col and were more or less
exhausted ; and many complaints of headache, even from
the best of them, were a bad sign.

There was no question of bustling off before dawTi on

M.E. S

258 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

the 23rd, but we rose early enough, as I supposed, to push
on to Chang La if we were sufficiently strong. Morshead
and I in a Mummery tent had slept well and I congratulated
myself on an act of mutilation in cutting two large slits
in its roof. The rest had not fared so well, but seemed fit
enough, and the wonderful prospect from our camp at sunrise
was a cheering sight. With the coolies, however, the case
was different. Those who had been unweU overnight had
not recovered, and it was evident that only a comparatively
small number would be able to come on ; eventually I
gathered ten, two men who both protested they were ill
casting lots for the last place ; and of these ten it was evident
that none were unaffected by the height and several were
more seriously mountain-sick.* Under these circumstances
it was necessary to consider which loads should be carried
on. Bury, Wollaston and Morshead suggested that they
should go back at once so as not to burden the party with
the extra weight of their belongings, and it seemed the wisest
plan that they should return. Certain stores were left behind
at Lhakpa La as reserve supplies for the climbing party.
I decided at an early hour that our best chance was to take
an easy day ; after a late start and a very slow march we
pitched our tents on the open snow up towards the col.

It might have been supposed that in so deep a cwm
and sheltered on three sides by steep mountain slopes, we
should find a tranquil air and the soothing, though chilly
calm of undisturbed frost. Night came clearly indeed,
but with no gentle intentions. Fierce squalls of wind visited
our tents and shook and worried them with the disagreeable
threat of tearing them away from their moorings, and then
scurried off, leaving us in wonder at the change and asking
what next to expect. It was a cold wind at an altitude of
22,000 feet, and however little one may have suffered, the
atmosphere discouraged sleep. Again I believe I was more

* I use this expression to denote not a state of intermittent vomiting,
but simply one in which physical exertion exhausts the body abnormally
and causes a remarkable disinclination to further exertion.

THE ASSAULT 259

fortunate than my companions, but Bullock and Wheeler
fared badly. Lack of sleep, since it makes one sleepy, always
discourages an early start, and hot drinks take time to
brew ; in any case, it was wise to start rather late so as
to have the benefit of warm sun whenever our feet should
be obhged to linger in cold snow or ice steps. It was an
hour or so after sunrise when we left the camp and half an
hour later we were breaking the crust on the first slopes
under the wall. We had taken three coohes who were
sufficiently fit and competent, and now proceeded to use
them for the hardest work. Apart from one brief spell of
cutting when we passed the corner of a bergschrund it was
a matter of straightforward plugging, firstly slanting up
to the right on partially frozen avalanche snow and then
left in one long upward traverse to the summit. Only one
passage shortly below the col caused either anxiety or trouble ;
here the snow was lying at a very steep angle and was deep
enough to be disagreeable. About 500 steps of very hard
work covered all the worst of the traverse and we were
on the col shortly before 1L30 a.m. By this time two coohes
were distinctly tired, though by no means incapable of
coming on ; the third, who had been in front, was com-
paratively fresh. Wheeler thought he might be good for
some further effort, but had lost all feeling in his feet. Bullock
was tired, but by sheer will power would evidently come
on — how far, one couldn't say. For my part I had had the
wonderful good fortune of sleeping tolerably well at both
high camps and now finding my best form ; I supposed I
might be capable of another 2,000 feet, and there would
be no time for more. But what lay ahead of us ? My eyes
had often strayed, as we came up, to the rounded edge above
the col and the final rocks below the North-east arete. If
ever we had doubted whether the arete were accessible,
it was impossible to doubt any longer. For a long way up
those easy rock and snow slopes was neither danger nor
difficulty. But at present there was wind. Even where
we stood under the lee of a little ice cliff it came in fierce

260 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

gusts at frequent intervals, blowing up the powdery snow
in a suffocating tourbiUon. On the col bej^ond it was blowing
a gale. And higher was a more fearful sight. The powdery-
fresh snow on the great face of Everest was being swept
along in unbroken spindrift and the very ridge where our
route lay was marked out to receive its unmitigated fury.
We could see the blown snow deflected upwards for a moment
where the wind met the ridge, only to rush violently down
in a frightful blizzard on the leeward side. To see, in fact,
was enough ; the wind had settled the question ; it would
have been folly to go on. Nevertheless, some little discussion
took place as to what might be possible, and we struggled
a few steps further to put the matter to the test. For a
few moments we exposed ourselves on the col to feel the
fuU strength of the blast, then struggled back to shelter.
Nothing more was said about pushing our assault any
further.

It remained to take a final decision on the morning of
the 25th. We were evidently too weak a party to play a
waiting game at this altitude. We must either take our
camp to the col or go back. A serious objection to going
forward lay in the shortage of coolies' rations. Had the
men been fit it would not have been too much for them to
return, as I had planned, unladen to Lhakpa La and reach
Chang La again the same day. I doubted whether any two
could be found to do that now ; and to subtract two was
to leave only eight, of whom two were unfit to go on, so
that six would remain to carry seven loads. However,
the distance to the col was so short that I was confident
such difficulties could be overcome one way or another.

A more unpleasant consideration was the thought of
requiring a party which already felt the height too much
to sleep at least a 1,000 feet higher. We might well
find it more than we could do to get back over Lhakpa La,
and be forced to make a hungry descent down the Rongbuk
Valley. There would be no disaster in that event. The
crucial matter was the condition of the climbers. Were

THE ASSAULT 261

we fit to push the adventure further ? The situation, if
any one of the whole party collapsed, would be extremely
disagreeable, and all the worse if he should be one of the
Sahibs, who were none too many to look after the coolies
in case of mountaineering difficulties. Such a collapse I
judged might well be the fate of one or other of us if we
were to push our assault above Chang La to the limit of
our strength. And what more were we likely to accomplish
from a camp on Chang La ? The second night had been
no less windy than the first. Soon after the weather cleared
the wind had been strong from North-west, and seemed
each day to become more violent. The only signs of a change
now pointed to no improvement, but rather to a heavy
fall of snow — by no means an improbable event according
to local lore. The arguments, in fact, were all on one side ;
it would be bad heroics to take wrong risks ; and fairly
facing the situation one could only admit the necessity of
retreat.

It may be added that the real weakness of the party
became only too apparent in the course of our return journey
over Lhakpa La on this final day ; and it must be safe to
say that none of the three climbers has ever felt a spasm of
regret about the decision to go back or a moment's doubt as
to its rightness. It was imposed upon us by circumstances
without a reasonable alternative.

CHAPTER XVI

WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW

Without consulting the meteorologist at Simla it is
difficult to accept assertions about the monsoon as ultimate
truth. Beyond a general, rather vague, agreement as to
what should normally be expected, opinions differ not a
little as to the measure and frequency of divergences from
the norm. And individuals who observe in one locality
more or less than they hope or expect are apt to forget
that their dearth or plenty may be elsewhere compensated
by capricious incidence. Nevertheless it seems certain
that this year's rainfall in North-east India was above the
normal both in amount and duration. " We had good rain,"
people said, and I was tempted to reply, " We had bad
snow." Travelling through India I frequently asked questions
on this point, and almost invariably heard of an unusually
bountiful rainfall, seldom of one which was merely sufficient.
Inhabitants of Darjeeling, who have observed the hills in
the changing seasons for many years, told me that it was
almost unheard of that so much snow should fall in September
and lie so low. The general tenor of such remarks may
probably be applied to an area including not only Mount
Everest itself and the great peaks in its neighbourhood,
but also a considerable tract of country to the North. The
monsoon, according to Tibetan information, started perhaps
a little later than usual, but was still more late in coming
to an end ; the Tibetans ordinarily lie with an object,
and there could be no object in deceiving us about the
weather. It may be concluded the year was abnormally
wet, though to what extent on Everest itself can hardly be
divined.

262

WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 263

During our outward journey through Sikkim we saw
nothing of the high peaks. It was not until the day of our
march to Phari Dzong (May 28) that we had a clear view
of the snows, and we had then the good fortune to see
Chomolhari late in the morning. But Chomolhari and the
range to the North of it were less visited by clouds than the
peaks further South. Pawhunri, Kanchenjunga, Chomiomo
were less often visible, and even at this early season we
began to observe the usual habit of clouds to rise from the
valleys or to form about the summits at an early hour, to
be dissipated not before evening. The weather was not
necessarily bad because the peaks were veiled. When we
first saw Everest from Kampa Dzong on June 6, it was
obscured some three hours after sunrise, but the weather
seemed fine : and on two subsequent days we made the
same observation. On June 13, from the hills above Shiling,
Bullock and I were trying to make out the Everest group
through glasses for about three hours. When first we looked
in that direction, it appeared that a storm was in progress,
with dark clouds drifting up from the West ; but Kanchen-
junga at the same time was a glorious sight, and all the
mountains were clear before sunset. The most splendid of
the distant views was from Ponglet on June 19 : we were
up our hill half an hour after sunrise and half an hour later
there was nothing to be seen. There may have been malice
in the clouds that day. It was radiantly fine where we were ;
but in the afternoon we came under the edge of a thunderstorm
which drenched the main body of the Expedition as they
were approaching Tingri ; and there was a definite break
in the weather at this time.

I suppose this break may be taken as the forerunner
of the monsoon on Mount Everest. Storms there may
have been before ; but, generally speaking, it had been
fine over the mountains since the beginning of June, and
though the evidence is slight enough it seems probable
that Everest received little or no snow before June 20.
When first we saw it, a few days later, from the Rongbuk

264 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

Glacier, it was still comparatively black. It appeared a
rocky mass with a white arm to the right, some permanent
snow on the ledges and in the gulHes of the face turned
Northwards in our direction and some snow again on the
high North-east arete ; but with no pretensions to be a
snow- mountain, a real sugar-cake as it seemed afterwards
to become. We were lucky in having a few fine days at
the outset of our reconnaissance. The conditions then
were very different from those which obtained later. The
recent snow must have melted quickly ; we found clean
ice on an East-facing slope at 21,000 feet and also at a gentler
angle on one facing West. On Ri-ring the slopes were
generally covered with snow near the crest, thinly but
sufficiently, or we should never have got up ; near the
summit we found ice on both sides. North and South. It
is impossible to say up to what height one might have found
ice in June. Appearances suggested that on all but the
steepest slopes above 23,000 feet the surface was hard snow
rather than ice.

It was on the day following our ascent of Ri-ring, July 6,
that we first experienced a real snowfall ; and we woke
next morning to find 3 or 4 inches covering the ground. In
so far as an exact date can be ascribed to what is hardly a
single event, July 6-7 may be taken as the beginning of
the monsoon. We imagined at first that this snowfall was
an important matter, sufficient to prevent climbing at any
considerable height for several days. But from subsequent
observations we came to treat such snowfalls with a certain
degree of contempt. It was more often than not the case
during the whole of July until the date of our departure
that snow fell during the day — sometimes perhaps for a
comparatively short period between noon and sunset, not
seldom for many hours, intermittently during the day from
the middle of the morning, and continuing into the night.
But it was often so far as we were concerned a harmless
phenomenon. Snow was precipitated from clouds so thin
that they were easily penetrated by the sun's heat ; it

WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 265

melted where it lay, and the moisture so readily evaporated
that the snow had hardly stopped falling before the ground
was dry. One might suppose that a few hundred feet higher,
where the snow could be seen to lie where it fell, the effects
would be more severe ; but it was remarkable after half a
day's unceasing precipitation of this fine granular snow
that one might go up early next morning, perhaps to
20,000 feet, and find no more than a thin covering of 2 or
3 inches on the stones.

In saying that this sort of weather was harmless, I am
not denying that it hindered our operations ; but from
the point of view merely of the climber it was remarkably
innocuous. A case in point is our ascent of Ri-ring. As
we were nearing the summit a thunderstorm gathered to
the North and dark clouds came up on every hand, threatening
a violent disturbance. I have related in an earlier chapter
how we hurried down, expecting at the least a cold unpleasant
wind and some nasty snow showers ; but the air remained
calm and the temperature warm and such grains of snow
as fell were hardly remarked in our flight. A more disagreeable
experience was our first journey to the col from which
we afterwards looked into the West Cwm of Everest ; we
reached the pass in the teeth of a wind which drove the
snow into our faces ; but the weather had no real sting,
and the wind, though cold, seemed to touch us lightly.
Wmd, in fact, was never an enemy to be feared during the
whole period of the monsoon, and snowstorms, though they
prevented more than one expedition, never turned us back.
The delays in our reconnaissance caused by bad weather
were of course considerable ; we were forced to push our
camps higher than would have otherwise been necessary,
and often found ourselves hurrying after a start before dawn
in a desperate race with the clouds to reach a view-pomt
before the view had disappeared. And the precipitation of
snow on the glaciers forced us invariably to wear snow-shoes
on neve, and consequently limited the numbers in our
parties.

266 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

I have already alluded to a more serious snowfall which
took place from July 20 to 25. Another occurred during
the first days of August and another again on August 20
and 21, when snow came down below 16,000 feet. In
September, towards the end of the monsoon, the weather
was more monotonously malicious and the snowfall tended
to be heavier ; I find two heavy falls noted particularly
in my diary. But on the whole it was the habit of snow
to fall lightly. It is remarkable, when one calls to mind
such a big snowfall as may occur during the climbing season
in the Alps before the weather is resolved to be fine, how
little snow by comparison fell on any one day in the region
of Mount Everest. And perhaps in the end the slopes were
more laden by the smaller precipitations which deposited
a daily accretion.

We naturally sought an answer to the interminable
query as to how much melting took place at the highest
altitudes. Melting of course was always quicker on rocks.
But even on the glaciers it was remarkably rapid whenever
the sun shone brightly, and we were more than once surprised
after a period of cloudy weather with constant snow showers
to find how much the snow had consolidated. It seemed
to us on more than one occasion that while snow had been
falling at our camps and on the lower peaks, Everest itself
must have escaped. But, generally speaking, after July 6
the mountain was remarkably white and became increasingly
whiter, and only at the least two perfectly fine days, which
rarely came together, made any perceptible difference.
It was remarkable how little ice was ever observable on
the steep Eastern face, where one would expect to see icicles
hanging about the rocks. It is my own impression for what
it is worth, and its value I fear is small, that though snow
will melt readily enough low down, at least up to 23,000 feet
during the warmer weather even on cloudy days, at greater
altitudes, perhaps above 25,000 feet, it rarely melts even
in bright sunshine. In September this year I doubt if it
melted at all above 23,000 feet after the weather cleared.

WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 267

At lower elevations the direction and angle of the slope
made all the difference. After one fine day the snow on a
steep East slope had solidified to a remarkable degree at
about 20,000 feet ; on a North-facing slope at a similar
elevation it had been quite unaffected ; on flat surfaces
1,000 feet higher a perceptible crust had formed, but
the snow remained powdery below it as on the day when
it fell. After three and four fine days the snowy surface
of a glacier was absolutely hard at about 20,000 feet and
remained solid in the afternoon. Fifteen hundred feet
higher we were breaking a hard crust and sinking in a foot
or more. This condition may have been partly due to the
local behaviour of clouds, which were apt to cling about a
ridge overlooking the glacier and cast a shadow on this
part of it. But higher, on more open ground, we met the
same condition ; and again the slopes facing North preserved
a powdery snow which never changed before it was blown
down in avalanches. Perhaps the most convincing phenomena
were the powdery snow high up on the Eastern slopes under
the North col and the snow on the Western slopes at a
similar elevation under Lhakpa La, which was hardly more
soUd, while 1,000 feet lower we found excellent snow.
It is difficult to resist the conclusion that altitude is a
determining factor in the sun's power of melting. It is
possible that a line might always be drawn on any given
day above which the temperature of the air is too cold for
snow to melt where it has fallen on snow, and another to
meet the case where it covers rocks. From our all too
limited observations in June I should judge that in the
middle of summer such imaginary lines would be above the
height of Everest, but in other and cooler seasons we should
quickly find them lower and a long way below the summit.

In close connection with, the snow's melting we had to
consider the possibihty of avalanches. Our observations
on this head were so meagre that I can only make with
the greatest diffidence a few statements about them. It is
astonishing to reflect how seldom we either saw or heard

268 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

an avalanche, or even noticed the debris of one under steep
slopes which had been laden with snow. Only on two
occasions, I beheve, were we confronted in practice with
the question as to whether a slope could safely be crossed.
The first was on August 7 in ascending the peak Carpo-ri,
of which I have previously made mention. The heavy
snowfall at the beginning of the month had ceased during
the night August 4-5 ; the following days had been warm
but cloudy, and on both there had been prolonged snow
showers of the lighter sort in the afternoon and evening.
On the night of August 6 we had hard frost at 17,500 feet,
and there was a considerable sprinkling of fresh snow on
the stones of the moraine. Between the col and the summit
we met some very steep snow slopes on the South side :
we carried no chnometer and I shall not venture to estimate
their angles of inclination. It was on this occasion, as I
have narrated, that in crossing a shaUow scoop I was very
much afraid of an avalanche, but was able to choose a safe
line where we were protected and helped by an island of
rocks. The snow here was inclined to be powdery ; but it
had solidified in some degree and, where we had to tread
it, adhered sufficiently to the slope so as to give one a distinct
confidence that it would not slide off wherever it might be
crossed. Above this place Ave were able to avoid danger
by following an edge where the snow was not so deep ; but
here again I noticed with surprise the adhesion between
new snow and old. The ice below was not solid and smooth,
but frothy and rough, and easily penetrated by a strong
blow of the axe ; it seemed to have been formed very quickly.
The snow showed no inclination to slide off, though it was
not of the substance in which a secure step could be made :
and I concluded that the process of assimilation between
the old surface and the new snow must proceed very rapidly
whenever the temperature was warm enough. On the final
slope, which was even steeper, more snow was lying — it
was a more powdery substance : I was able again to escape
danger on an edge dividing two faces ; but it was surprising

WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 269

that no avalanche had akeady taken place and that the
snow contrived to stay where it was.

The other occasion when we had to face and determine
the possibility of an avalanche was in traversing the slopes
to the North Col. Here our feet undoubtedly found a solid
bed to tread upon, but the substance above it was dubiously
loose. It was my conviction at the time that with axes
well driven in above us we were perfectly safe here. But
on the way down we observed a space of 5 yards or so where
the surface snow had slid away below our tracks. The
disquieting thoughts that necessarily followed this discovery
left and still leave me in some doubt as to how great a risk,
if any, we were actually taking. But it is natural to suppose
that at a higher elevation or in a cooler season, because
the snow adheres less rapidly to the slopes on which it lies,
an avalanche of new snow is more likely to occur.

Temperature

Before attempting to draw conclusions as to the relative
chances of finding favourable conditions between one month
and another, a few words must be said about temperature.

So far as the temperature of the air was concerned, we
experienced no severe cold and suffered no hardships from
first to last. I do not mean to affirm that it was always
warm. We welcomed frost at nights as one does in the
Alps. One night so early as July 18, in a camp above
19,000 feet, was exceptionally cold. At our two last camps
in September the thermometer went down to two or three
degrees below zero (Fahr.) and the wind at the final camp
made it more difficult to keep warm ; with as little protection
as the cooUes had, I should no doubt have shivered in my
tent. The air also seemed very cold before sunrise on
September 20, though we were walking fast ; but it did not
bite the tip of my nose or ears or cause any disagreeable result.
In general it may be said that there could be no difficulty
in providing equipment against any cold we encountered.
Heat was a much more dangerous enemy, as I indicated

270 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

in describing our first ascent to Lhakpa La. Personally
I never felt the sun's power on my head, but I felt it on
my back so early as 8 a.m. as a definite attack on my energy
and vital power, and more than once, though the sun was
not shining, in crossing a glacier late in the day I was reduced
from a state of alert activity to one of heavy lassitude.

The temperature of the snow is another consideration
of very great importance. Even in July I felt the snow
to be cold in the middle of the day towards the summit
of Ri-ring, and when wearing snow-shoes in fresh snow
under 20,000 feet coolies and aU felt the cold in their feet.
Later I apprehended a real danger from this source. The
coolies were encouraged to anoint their feet with whale
oil, and we avoided accident and even complaint : but I
always admired their resistance to cold. Personally, though
I am not particularly a cold-footed person, I took the
precaution of wearing two pairs of long socks which were
both new and thick, and a third from which, unfortunately,
the toes had to be amputated owing to the timid miscalculation
of my bootmaker : this equipment sufficed and I found
my feet perfectly warm, while one of my companions was
obliged to pull off a boot in order to restore circulation,
and the other went on with numb feet and barely escaped
frost-bite. And I must again emphasise the fact that this
was on an Eastern slope well warmed by the sun in the
middle of the morning and at an altitude no higher than
about 22,500 feet. It may readily be concluded that
forethought and care are in no respect more necessary than in
guarding against frozen feet among a large party at the highest
altitudes. And the difficulty of guarding against this danger
might well determine the limits at either end of the warmest
weather within which an assault should be launched on Everest
itself or any one of the half-dozen or so highest peaks.

The Best Season for Climbing
It will hardly be doubtful from the whole tendency of
my preceding remarks about weather and conditions that

WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW 271

my opinion inclines decisively to the earlier rather than
the later season as offering the best chances of cUmbing
Mount Everest. We cannot of course assume that because
September was a bad month this year it will always be a
bad month. But supposing the monsoon were to end
punctually and a fair spell to have set in by the first day of
September — even then it appears to me improbable that
the fresh snow fallen during the monsoon would sufficiently
melt near the top of the mountain two and a half months
after midsummer. As to the prospects of wind, we can
only be content with the statement that in this particular
year the wind after the end of the monsoon would alone
have defeated even the most determined attempt to reach
the summit. A wind strong enough to blow up the snow
must always, I believe, prevent an ascent. A superman
might perhaps be found, but never a party of men whose
endurance at high altitudes would warrant the risk of
exhaustion in struggling for long hours against such adverse
circumstances. For the earher season it may be said again,
as a simple observation upon which little enough can be
built, that the appearance of the clouds before the monsoon
did not suggest wind, but rather a calm air on the summit.
What precisely the conditions may be, for instance, in May
and June, 1922, or what we ought normally to expect, cannot
be determined with certainty. Will the whole of the snow
fallen during the monsoon of 1921 have melted before the
next moonsoon, and if so by what date ? Will the amount of
snow on the mountain be the same in June, 1922, as twelve
months before ? Or will black and white appear in altered
proportions ? And if the snow has melted, where will ice
be found ? It might well be that under the North Col all
the steeper slopes will have lost their snow. And what of
the final arete ? One conjecture seems as good as another,
and the experience of more travelled mountameers will
suggest the most probable answer to these questions with
an instinct less fallible than mine. Nevertheless, I think it
may be said that the chances are all in favour of the earlier

272 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

season. We know, for instance, about this j^ear that snow
must have melted since the last monsoon and actually was
melting fast in June, but the summer's snow does not always
melt before the winter — not this year, for instance : the
chances, therefore, of finding it melted in June are better
than those of finding it melted in September. It may be
contended that it might then have melted too much so that
a party would find ice where they would wish to find snow.
But one must prefer the lesser of two evils. Ice is far from
an insuperable obstacle on Mount Everest ; almost anywhere
above Chang La crampons would overcome it : but powdery
snow, in case the snow has melted too little, is a deadly
handicap. Finally, the earlier is the warmer season with
less danger to vulnerable feet and requiring a lighter
equipment.

CHAPTER XVII
THE ROUTE TO THE SUIVmiT

The reader who has carefully followed the preceding
story will hardly have failed to notice that the route which
has been chosen as the only one offering reasonable chances
of success remains still very largely a matter of speculation.
But the reconnaissance, unless it were actually to reach
the summit, was obliged to leave much unproved, and its
value must depend upon observations in various sorts and
not merely upon the practice of treading the snow and rocks.
Speculation in this case is founded upon experience of certain
phenomena and a study of the mountain's features ; and
it is by relating what has been only seen with known facts
that inferences have been drawTi.

It may perhaps be accounted a misfortune that the
party of 1921 did not approach Chang La by the East Rongbuk
Glacier. The Lhakpa La proved a bigger obstacle than
was expected. But in conditions such as we hope to find
before the monsoon, this way would have much to recommend
it. It avoids all laborious walking on a dry glacier, and
with hard snow the walk up to the pass from the camp on
stones at 20,000 feet should not be unduly fatiguing. Still
the fact remains that the descent from the Lhakpa La on
to the East Rongbuk Glacier is not less than 1,200 feet.
Would it not be better to follow up this glacier from the
Rongbuk Valley ? The absence of wood on this side need
not deter the party of 1922. For them plenty of time will
be available sufficiently to provide their base with fuel,
and the sole consideration should be the easiest line of
approach ; and though no one has traversed the whole
length of the East Rongbuk Glacier, enough is known to

M.E. 273 T

274 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

choose this way with confidence. Here, as on other glaciers
which we saw, the difficulties clearly lie below the limit of
perpetual snow, and the greater part of them were avoided
or solved by Major Wheeler, who found a practicable way
on to the middle of the glacier at about 19,000 feet, and
felt certain that the medial moraine ahead of him would
serve for an ascent and be no more arduous than the moraines
of the West Rongbuk Glacier had proved to be. The view
of this way from the Lhakpa La confirmed his opinion, and
though it may be called a speculation to choose it, whereas
the way from the East has been established by experiment,
it is a fair inference from experience to conclude that the
untraversed section of the East Rongbuk Glacier, a distance
which could be accomplished very easily in one march if all
went well, will afford a simple approach to Chang La.

The Eastern wall, about 1,000 feet high, by which the
gap itself must be reached, can never be lightly esteemed.
Here reconnaissance has forged a link. But those who
reached the col were not laden with tents and stores ; and
on another occasion the conditions may be different. There
may be the danger of an avalanche or the difficulty of ice.
From what we saw this year before the monsoon had brought
a heavy snowfall it is by no means improbable that ice will
be found at the end of May on the steepest slope below
Chang La. In that case much labour will be required to
hew and keep in repair a staircase, and perhaps fix a banister,
so that the laden coolies, not all of whom will be competent
ice-men, may be brought up in safety.

The summit of Mount Everest is about 6,000 feet above
Chang La ; the distance is something like 2J miles and
the whole of it is unexplored. What grounds have we for
thinking that the mountaineering difficulties will not prove
insuperable, that in so far as mere climbing is concerned
the route is practicable ? Two factors, generally speaking,
have to be considered : the nature of the ground and the
general angle of inclination. Where the climber is confined
to a narrow crest and can find no way to circumvent an

THE ROUTE TO THE SUMMIT 275

obstacle, a very small tower or wall, a matter of 20 feet,
may bar his progress. There the general angle may be
what it likes : the important matter for him is that the
angle is too steep in a particular place. But on a mountain's
face where his choice is not limited to a strict and narrow
way, the general angle is of primary importance : if it is
sufficiently gentle, the climber will find that he may wander
almost where he will to avoid the steeper places. Long
before we reached Chang La Mr. Bullock and I were fairly
well convinced that the slope from here to the North-east
Shoulder was sufficiently gentle and that the nature of the
ill-defined ridge connecting these two points was not such
as to Umit the choice of route to a narrow line. Looking up
from the North Col, we learnt nothing more about the angles.
The view, however, was not without value ; it amply
confirmed our opinion as to the character of what lay ahead
of us. The ridge is not a crest ; its section is a wdde and
rounded angle. It is not decorated by pinnacles, it does
not rise in steps. It presents a smooth continuous way,
and whether the rocks are still covered with powdery snow,
or only slightly sprinkled and for the most part bare, the
party of 1922 should be able to go up a long way at all events
without meeting any serious obstacle. It may not prove a
perfectly simple matter actually to reach the North-east
arete above the shoulder at about 28,000 feet. The angle
becomes steeper towards this arete. But even in the last
section below it, the choice of a way should not be
inconveniently restricted. On the right of the ascending
party will be permanent snow on various sloping ledges,
an easy alternative to rocks if the snow is found in good
condition, and always offering a detour by which to avoid
an obstacle.

From the North-east Shoulder to the summit of
the mountain the way is not so smooth. The rise is
only 1,000 feet in a distance of half a mile, but the first part
of the crest is distinctly jagged by several towers and the
last part is steep. Much will depend upon the possibiUty

276 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

of escaping from the crest to avoid the obstacles and of
regaining it easily. The South-east side (left going up) is
terribly steep, and it will almost certainly be out of the
question to traverse there. But the sloping snow-covered
ledges on the North-west may serve very well ; the difficulty
about them is their tendency to be horizontal in direction
and to diverge from the arete where it slopes upwards, so
that a party which had followed one in preference to the
crest might find themselves cut off by a cliff running across
the face above them. But one way or another I think it
should be possible with the help of such ledges to reach the
final obstacle. The summit itself is like the thin end of a
wedge thrust up from the mass in which it is embedded.
The edge of it, with the highest point at the far end, can
only be reached from the North-east by climbing a steep
blunt edge of snow. The height of this final obstacle must
be fully 200 feet. Mr. Bullock and I examined it often
through our field-glasses, and though it did not appear
insuperable, whatever our point of view, it never looked
anything but steep.

To determine whether it is humanly possible to climb
to the summit of Mount Everest or what may be the chances
of success in such an undertaking, other factors besides
the mere mountaineering difficulties have to be considered.
It is at least probable that the obstacles presented by this
mountain could be overcome by any competent party if
they met them in the Alps. But it is a very different matter
to be confronted with such obstacles at elevations between
23,000 and 29,000 feet. We do not know that it is
physiologically possible at such high altitudes for the human
body to make the efforts required to lift itself up even on
the simplest ground. The condition of the party of 1921
in September during the days of the Assault cannot be taken
as evidence that the feat is impossible. The long periods
spent in high camps and the tax of many exhausting

THE ROUTE TO THE SUMMIT 277

expeditions had undoubtedly reduced the physical efficiency
of Sahibs and coolies alike. The party of 1922, on the other
hand, will presumably choose for their attempt a time when
the climbers are at the top of their form and their powers
will depend on the extent of their adaptability to the condition
of high altitude. Nothing perhaps was so astonishing in
the party of reconnaissance as the rapidity with which they
became acclimatised and capable of great exertions between
18,000 and 21,000 feet. Where is the limit of this process ?
Will the multiplication of red corpuscles continue so that
men may become acclimatised much higher ? There is
evidence enough to show that they may exist comfortably
enough, eating and digesting hearty meals and retaining a
feeling of vitality and energy up to 23,000 feet. It may be
that, after two or three days quietly spent at this height,
the body would sufficiently adjust itself to endure the still
greater difference from normal atmospheric pressure 6,000 feet
higher. At all events, a practical test can alone provide the
proof in such a case. Experiments carried out in a laboratory
by putting a man into a sealed chamber and reducing the
pressure say to half an atmosphere, valuable as they may
be when related to the experiences of airmen, can establish
nothing for mountaineers ; for they leave out of account
the all-important physiological factor of acclimatisation.
But in any case it is to be expected that efforts above
23,000 feet will be more exhausting than those at lower
elevations ; and it may well be that the nature of the ground
will turn the scale against the climber. For him it is all
important that he should be able to breathe regularly, the
demand upon his lungs along the final arete cannot fail to
be a terrible strain, and anything like a tussle up some steep
obstacle which would interfere with the regularity of his
breathing might prove to be an ordeal beyond his strength.
As a way out of these difficulties of breathing, the use
of oxygen has often been recommended and experiments
were made by Dr. Kellas,* which will be continued in 1922.
* See Geographical Journal,

278 THE RECONNAISSANCE OF THE MOUNTAIN

Even so there will remain the difficulty of establishing
one or perhaps two camps above Chang La (23,000 feet).
It is by no means certain that any place exists above this
point on which tents could be pitched. Perhaps the party
will manage without tents, but no great economy of weight
will be effected that way ; those who sleep out at an elevation
of 25,000 or 26,000 feet will have to be bountifully provided
with warm things. Probably about fifteen, or at least
twelve loads will have to be carried up from Chang La.
It is not expected that oxygen will be available for this
purpose, and the task, whatever organisation is provided,
will be severe, possibly beyond the limits of human strength.

Further, another sort of difficulty will jeopardise the
chances of success. It might be possible for two men to
struggle somehow to the summit, disregarding every other
consideration. It is a different matter to climb the mountain
as mountaineers would have it climbed. Principles, time-
honoured in the Alpine Club, must of course be respected
in the ascent of Mount Everest. The party must keep a
margin of safety. It is not to be a mad enterprise rashly
pushed on regardless of danger. The ill-considered acceptance
of any and every risk has no part in the essence of persevering
courage. A mountaineering enterprise may keep sanity and
sound judgment and remain an adventure. And of aU
principles by which we hold the first is that of mutual help.
What is to be done for a man who is sick or abnormally
exhausted at these high altitudes ? His companions must
see to it that he is taken down at the first opportunity and
with an adequate escort ; and the obligation is the same
whether he be Sahib or coolie ; if we ask a man to carry
our loads up the mountain we must care for his welfare at
need. It may be taken for granted that such need will
arise and will interfere very seriously with any organisation
however ingeniously and carefully it may be arranged.

In all it may be said that one factor beyond all others
is required for success. Too many chances e^re against th«

THE ROUTE TO THE SUMMIT 279

climbers ; too many contingencies may turn against them.
Anything like a breakdown of the transport will be fatal ;
soft snow on the mountain will be an impregnable defence ;
a big wind will send back the strongest ; even so small a
matter as a boot fitting a shade too tight may endanger
one man's foot and involve the whole party in retreat. The
climbers must have above all things, if they are to win through,
good fortune, and the greatest good fortune of all for
mountaineers, some constant spirit of kindness in Mount
Everest itself, the forgetfulness for long enough of its more
cruel moods ; for we must remember that the highest of
mountains is capable of severity, a severity so awful and so
fatal that the wiser sort of men do well to think and tremble
even on the threshold of their high endeavour.

NATURAL HISTORY

By a. F. R. WOLLASTON

CHAPTER XVIII
AN EXCURSION TO NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG

By a liberal interpretation of the expression " Mount
Everest " we considered it necessary to explore the
surrounding country as far as a hundred miles or more from
the mountain, East, North and South ; in all directions,
that is, excepting toward the forbidden territory of Nepal.
So it happened one day in July that Major Morshead and I,
already nearly fifty miles from Everest, set out in a
South-westerly direction, he anxious to add a few hundred
square miles of new country to his map, and I intent on
animals and plants. Our way lay across the Tingri Plain
to Langkor, both names famous in the annals of Tibetan
Buddhism. The following story was told us by an old monk
in the monastery at Langkor : —

Many generations ago there was born in the Indian village
of Pulahari a child named Tamba Sangay. When he grew
into a youth he became restless and dissatisfied with his
native place, so he went to visit the Lord Buddha and asked
him what he should do. The Lord Buddha told him that
he must take a stone and throw it far, and where the stone
fell there he should spend his life. So Tamba Sangay took
a rounded stone and threw it far, so that no one saw where
it fell. Many months he sought in vain until he passed
over the Hills into Tibet, and there he came to a place where,
although it was winter, was a large black space bare of snow.

281

282 NATURAL HISTORY

The people told him that the cattle walked round and round
in that space to keep it clear from snow, and in the middle
of it was a rounded stone. So Tamba Sangay knew that
the stone was his, and there he made a cell and dwelt until
he was taken on wings to Heaven. And the place is called
Langkor, which means " the cattle go round," to this day.
The people for many miles about had heard the stone as it
came flying over the Hills from India ; it made a whistling
sound like Ting, so the country came to be called Tingri, the
Hill of the Ting.

We visited the Langkor monastery and saw the casket
in which the stone of Tamba Sangay is kept, only to be opened
once a year by a high dignitary from Lhasa. Close by
was a fair-sized river, the bridge over which had been
carried away by a recent flood. The greater part of the
population was busily engaged in repairing the bridge, to the
accompaniment at frequent intervals of hideous blasts on a
large conch-sheU : this, we were told, was to keep the rain
away and stop the floods. Rain fell heavily in spite of the
noise, but the bridge was finished before nightfall.

On the follomng day we had a long pull of many miles
up to the Thung La, a pass of 18,000 feet, from which we
had hoped for fine views over the surrounding country. A
driving storm of snow blotted out the views and covered
the ground, so that nothing was to be seen but little clumps,
a few inches high, of poppies of the most heavenly blue.
Going down the steep track beyond the pass I was stopped
by hearing the unfamiliar note of a bird, so it seemed : the
cry was almost exactly that of a female peregrine when its
eyrie has been disturbed, but coming from a labyrinth of
fallen rocks it could not be. Tracking the note from one
rock to another, I came suddenly within a few yards of a
large marmot, which sat up and waved her tail at me ; she
called again and two half-grown young ones appeared close
by ; then all dived into a burrow. These marmots are
larger and far less timid of mankind than the marmots of
the Alps.

NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 283

A few miles below the pass the valley widened into an
almost level bottom of half a mile or more, with steep bare
limestone hills on either side. Here and there were small
hamlets, where the inhabitants used the water of the river
to irrigate their fields of barley and of blazing golden mustard,
whose sweetness scented the valley in the sunshine. Like
most of the butter, which is made in vast quantities in
Southern Tibet, the mustard seed produces oil for monastery
lamps. At one place we came across a spring, almost a
fountain, bubbling out of the foothill, of clearest sparkling
mineral water that would be the envy of Bath or of
Marienbad ; in a few yards it had become a racing stream a
dozen feet in width.

Four days of leisurely walking down the valley brought
us to the village of Nyenyam, where the whole population,
a most unpleasant-looking crowd of four or five hundred
people, came out to stare at us. A few only were Tibetans ;
the majority were obviously of Indian origin, calling
themselves Nepalese, but without any of the distinctive
features of that race. We had received some weeks earlier
a cordial invitation from the Jongpens of Nyenyam to visit
the place, and we were accordingly much disappointed to
find that no person of authority came out to welcome us.
A Jongpen, it should be said, is an official appointed by
the Lhasa authorities to administer a district and collect
revenues : in a place of any importance, as at Nyenyam,
there are often two, the idea being that one will keep an eye
on the other and prevent him from over-enriching himself.
We visited these worthies, whom we found dressed in priceless
Chinese silk gowns and cultivating the extreme fashion of
long nails on all their fingers, in strange contrast to the squalor
and dilapidation of their dwelling, and were annoyed to find
that they denied all knowledge of the invitation. The
bearer of the message was produced and lied manfully in
theu' cause ; the name of Nyenyam was not, as it happened,
mentioned in our passport, and we were made to look
somewhat foolish. Finally the Jongpens said (with their

284 NATURAL HISTORY

tongues in their cheeks and reminding us of a vulgar song)

that they were very glad to see us, but they hoped that we

would go. They then went out of their way to give us false

information about the local passes and made our prolonged

stay in the place impossible by discouraging the traders from

dealing with us.*

Nyenyam, though more squalid and evil-smelling than

any place in my experience, is of some importance as being

the last Tibetan town before the frontier of Nepal is reached.

It is well placed on a level terrace above the junction of the

Po Chu with an almost equally big river flowing from the

glaciers of the great mountain mass of Gosainthan.

Immediately below the town the river enters the stupendous

gorge that cuts through the heart of the Himalaya to the

more open country of Nepal, 8,000 feet below. To the West

of Nyenyam rises a great range of mountains culminating

in the beautiful peaks of Gosainthan, which we had hoped

to visit, and somewhere to the East lay the mysterious

sacred mountain of Lapche Kang. Our friends the Jongpens

assured us that there was no direct route to Lapche, that we

must go back the way by which we had come, and so on ;

but we were weary of their obstructions and made up our

minds to find a way to the holy places.

So far our transport animals had been the yak, or the

cross-bred ox-yak, a stronger beast ; we were now going

through country where only coolies could carry loads. We

retraced our steps a few miles up the valley to a village ruled

over by a friendly woman, the widow of the late headman.

True, she demanded for the coolies an exorbitant wage, which

we cut down by about a half, but she pressed into our service

every able-bodied person in the neighbourhood, young and

old, men and women. They have a fair and simple way

of apportioning the loads. All Tibetans, men and women

alike, wear long rope-soled boots with woollen cloth tops

extending toward the knee, where they are secured by garters,

* In fairness it must be said that this was the only occasion on which
we met with anything but help and civility from Tibetan officials.

NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 285

long strips of narrow woven cloth. When all the loads are
ready, each person takes off one garter and gives it to the
headman, who shuffles them well and in his turn hands them
over to some neutral person who knows not the ownership
of the garters. He lays one on the top of each load, and
whose garter it is must carry the load without any further
talk. It is amusing to watch the excitement in their faces
as the garters are dealt out, and to hear the shrieks of delight
of the lucky ones and the groans of the less fortunate. It
makes one feel weak and ashamed to see a smaU girl of
apparently no more than fourteen years shouldering a huge
tent or an unwieldy box, until one remembers that they
begin to carry almost as soon as they can walk and are
accustomed to far heavier loads than ever they carry for us.

Our path led us up a steep side-vaUey from the Po Cliu,
ascending over a vast moraine to the foot of a small glacier
about two miles in length. Here I saw a rare sight: a
Lammergeier (bearded vulture) came sailing down in wide
circles and settled on the ice barely a hundred paces from
us, where he began to peck at something — a dead hare
perhaps, but it was impossible to see or to approach nearer
over the crevasses. The Lammergeier, vulture though it is,
is one of the noblest birds in flight that may be seen : hardly
a day passes in the high mountains without one or more
swooping down to look at you, sometimes so near that you
can see his beard and gleaming eye ; but to see one on the
ground is rare indeed. The long-tailed aeroplane at a very
great height resembles the Lammergeier more than any other
bird.

We struggled up the glacier, inches deep in soft new
snow, crossed crevasses by means of rotten planks which
gravely offended our mountaineering sense, and came through
dense fog to our pass at its head. Here began the sacred
mountain of Lapche Kang, and on the rocks beside the pass,
and on many of the pinnacles high up above the pass as well,
were cairns of stones sui:)porting Uttle reed-stemmed flags
of prayers. Some of our party had brought up from below

286 NATURAL HISTORY

such little flags, which they planted where their fancy
prompted. As we went dowTi on the other side we came to
countless little " chortens," miniature temples, and, where
the ground was level for a space, to long walls of stones,
each one inscribed with the universal Buddhist prayer OM

MANI PADME HUM.

Yaks are most satisfactory beasts of burden ; if their pace
is slow — it is seldom more than two miles an hour — ^they go
with hardly a halt, cropping a tuft of grass here and there,
until daylight fails. But the Tibetan coolie is of quite
another nature ; he (or she) starts off gaily enough in the
mornmg, but very soon he is glad to stop for a gossip or to
alter the trim of his load, and then it is time to drink tea, and
again at every convenient halting-place more tea, not the
liquid that we are accustomed to drink, but a curious mixture
of powdered brick-tea, salt, soda and butter, of a better taste
than one would suppose. So on this occasion it was long
after noon when we had crossed the pass, and when the day
began to fade in a drenching cloud of rain, the Tibetans
found shelter in some caves, and persuaded us to camp. An
uneven space among rocks just held our tents ; we dined
off the fragrant smoke of green rhododendi^on and soaking
juniper, and we slept (if at all) to the roar of boulders rolhng
in the torrent-bed a few feet from where we lay.

But it was well that we had not stumbled on in the dark.
In the morning light we walked over grassy " alps " still
yellow with sweet-scented primulas, and the steep sides of
the narrowing valley below were bright with roses, pink and
white spirseas, yellow berberis and many other flowers.
Soon it became evident that we were approaching a place of
more than ordinary holiness ; every stone had its prayer-flag,
and the tops of trees, which began to appear here, were also
decorated. Great boulders were defaced with the familiar
words engraven on them in letters many feet in height. In
a little while we came to a small wooden hut filled from
floor to roof with thousands of little flags brought there by
pilgrims ; the posts and lintel of the door were smeared with

NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 287

dabs of butter, and the crevices of the walls were filled with
little bunches of fresh-cut flowers. Outside was a rude altar
made of stones from the river-bed, where a Lama was burning
incense and chanting prayers.

We passed through the village, a tiny hamlet of a dozen
houses, and came to the celebrated temple of Lapche. A
square stone wall, about 60 yards each way, on the inner
side of which are sheds to shelter pilgrims, encloses a roughly
paved courtyard where stands the temple, a plain square
building of stone with a pagoda-like roof surmounted by a
burnished copper ornament. There is nothing remarkable
about the temple excepting the hundred and more prayer
wheels set in the wall at a convenient height for the pilgrims
to turn as they walk round the building. Inside are countless
Buddhas, the usual smell of smoky butter-lamps, and an
effigy of the saint. The whole place is dirty and dishevelled,
in the supposed care of one old woman and a monk, and
nobody would believe that this is one of the most famous
places in the country and that every year hundreds of
Buddhists from India and from all parts of Tibet make
pilgrimage to it.

Mila Respa, poet and saint and (it is said) a Tibetan
incarnation of Buddha, spent his earthly life in this mountain
valley, living under rocks and in caves, where the faithful
may see his footprints even now. He seems to have been
not lacking in a sense of humour. He was walking with a
disciple on the mountain one day, when they found an old
yak's horn Ijdng in the path. Mila Respa told the disciple
to pick it up and take it with him. The disciple refused,
saying that it was useless, and passed on without noticing
that the saint himself had picked up the horn and put it
under his cloak. Soon afterwards a mighty storm descended
on them — whether or not it was caused by the saint is not
known. He took the horn from under his cloak and crept
inside it. " Now," said he, when he was safely sheltered
from the rain, " you see that nothing in the world is useless."

We stayed for two days at Lapche Kang, picking flowers

288 NATURAL HISTORY

and enjoying the beauty of the place, in spite of the clouds
which swept up from the South and filled the valley from
early morning onwards. To a naturalist it was a tantahzing
place ; there were many unfamiliar birds that we had not
seen in Tibet, but in such a sacred place I dared not offend
the people by taking life, and I even had some qualms in
catching butterflies. One of the prettiest sights I saw was
a wall-creeper, like a big crimson-winged moth, fluttering
over the temple buildings in search for insects.

Having found Lapche Kang, where no European had
before penetrated, and having placed it on the map, our next
object was to go over the ranges Eastward to the Rongshar
Valley, the head of which had been visited by members of
the Expedition a few weeks earlier. This was accomplished
in two long days of rather confused climbing over two passes
of about 17,000 feet, crossing sundry glaciers and stumbling
over moraines, and nearly always in an impenetrable fog.
Our views of mountains were none at all, but the beauty
of the flowers at our feet was almost compensation for that.
Among many stand out two in particular, both of them
primulas. One was ivory-white, about the bigness of a
cowslip, with wide open bells and the most delicate primrose
scent : the other carried from four to six bells, each as big
as a lady's thimble, of deep azure blue and lined inside with
frosted silver.*

As we went down the last steep slope into the Rongshar
Valley, the clouds parted for a few moments, and across the
valley and incredibly high above our heads appeared the
summit of Gauri-Sankar,f one of the most beautiful of
Himalayan peaks, blazing in the afternoon sun. It was a
glorious vision, but it rather added to our regret for the views
of peaks that we might have seen. The next morning at
daybreak the whole mountain was clear from its foot in the

* Both of these are new species ; the former has been described as
Primula Bury ana, the latter as P. Wollastonii.

I Gauri-Sankar (23,440 ft.) was for many years confused with Mount
Everest, which is still misnamed Gauri-Sankar in German maps.

Galri-Sankar.

NYENYAM AND LAPCHE KANG 289

Rongshar River (10,000 feet) up through woods of pine
and birch, to rhododendrons and rocks, and so by a knife-
edged ridge of ice to its ghstening summit. It recalled to
me the Bietsch-horn more than any other Alpine peak, a
Bietsch-horn on the giant scale and seemingly impassable
to man.

The valley of the Rongshar, Hke the Nyenyam and other
valleys we had visited, though within the Tibetan border,
is really more Nepalese in character. The chmate is much
damper than in Tibet, as one can see by the wisps of Hchen
on the trees and the greenness of the vegetation far up the
mountain sides, especially at this season of monsoon, when
the South wind blows dense clouds of drenching moisture
through the gorges. Like those valleys the Rongshar is
sacred, which is inconvenient when the question of food
supply is pressing. The people had cattle and flocks of
goats ; they would sell us an ox or a goat, but we must not
kill it within the valley, or ill-luck would come to them.
They were a friendly and good-tempered people, much given
to religion. In many places we had seen prayer wheels
worked by water, but here for the first time we saw one
driven by the wind. Though it does not do much work at
night, it probably steals a march on the water wheels in
winter, when the streams are frozen.

We walked up the vaUey of Rongshar, which in July
should be called the VaUey of Roses ; on all sides were bushes,
trees almost, of the deep red single rose in bloom, and the
air was filled with the scent of them. After a journey of
about 150 miles through unknown country we came to the
village of Tazang, which had been visited by some of us
before. Thence over the Phiise La (the Pass of SmaU Rats)
we came into real Tibet again, and so in a few days to the
Eastern side of Mount Everest.

M.E.

CHAPTER XIX
NATURAL HISTORY NOTES

To a naturalist Tibet ofEers considerable difficulties : it
is true that in some places animals are so tame that they
will almost eat out of jonv hand ; for instance, in the
Rongbuk Valley the burrhel (wild sheep) come to the cells
of the hermits for food, and in every village the ravens and
rock-doves are as fearless as the sparrows in London. But
against this tameness must be set the Buddhist religion,
which forbids the people from taking life, so that, whereas
in most countries the native children are the best friends
of the naturaUst, in Tibet we got no help from them what-
ever. Also, in order to avoid giving possible offence, we
were careful to refrain from shooting in the neighbourhood
of monasteries and villages, and that was a very severe
drawback, as birds congregated principally about the culti-
vated lands near villages. Another difficulty we found was
in catching small mammals, which showed the greatest
reluctance to enter our traps, whatever the bait might be.
One species only, a vole (Phaiomys leucurus), was trapped ;
all the others were shot, and that involved a considerable
expenditure of time in waiting motionless beside burrows.
In spite of these disadvantages we made considerable
collections of mammals and birds, and we brought back a
large number of dried plants and seeds, many of which it
is hoped wiU Hve in the gardens of this country.

Crossing over the Jelep La from Sikkim into Tibet in
the latter part of May we found the country at 12,000 feet
and upwards at the height of spring. The open level spaces
were carpeted with a dark purple and yellow primula (P.
gammieana), a delicate little yellow flower {Lloydia tibetica)

290

iii ; , •..->v>'aJ3'^ • ■''<»3Kfc.- '<F^-»'^ " gy /. .- g >vs.--'^. •» %*fT

Low i-.K K \\i \-iiir.

NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 291

and many saxifrages. The steep hillsides were ablaze
with the flowers of the large rhododendrons {R. thomsoni^
R. falconeri, R. aucklandi) and the smaller Rhododendron
campylocarpum, an almost infinite variety of colours.* A
descent through woods of pines, oaks and walnuts brought
us to the picturesque village of Richengong, in the Chumbi
Valley, where we found house-martins nesting under the
eaves of the houses. Following up the Ammo Chu, in its
lower course between 9,000 and 12,000 feet, we found the
valley gay with pink and white spiraeas and cotoneasters,
red and white roses, yellow berberis, a fragrant white-flowered
bog-myrtle, anemones and white clematis. Dippers, wag-
tails and the white-capped redstart were the commonest
birds along the river-banks. From Yatung we made an
excursion of a few miles up the Kambu Valley, and there
found a very beautiful Enkianthus [Enhianthus himalaicus),
a small tree about 15 feet high, with clusters of pink and
white flowers ; in the autumn the leaves turn to a deep
copper red.

At about 11,000 feet is a level terrace, the plain of
Lingmatang, where the stream meanders for two or three
miles through a lovely meadow covered in the spring with
a tiny pink primula (P. minutissima) : it looks a perfect
trout stream, but what fish there are {Schizopygopsis stoUczae)
are small and few in number.

Between 11,000 and 13,000 feet you ascend through
mixed woods of pine, larch, birch and juniper with an
undergrowth of rhododendrons and mountain ash. The
larches here have a much less formal habit of growth than
those of this country, and in the autumn they turn to a
brilliant golden colour. The berries of the mountain ash,
when ripe, are white and very conspicuous. At this altitude
Rhododendron cinnaharinum reaches its best growth, in

* We marked many of the best-flowering specimens with the intention
of collecting their seeds on our return in the autumn. Unfortunately when
we came over the Jelep La in October it was in a heavy snowstorm which
made collecting impossible.

292 MOUNT EVEREST

bushes of from 8 to 10 feet in height, and the flowers have
a very vnde range of colour. In the woods hereabouts
may often be heard and sometimes seen the blood pheasant,
and here lives also — but we did not see it — the Tibetan
stag.

At about 13,000 feet at the end of May you find a yellow
primula covering the ground more thickly than cowshps in
this country ; the air is laden with the scent of it, and
growing with it is a pretty little heath-like flower {Cassiope
fastigiata) with snow-white bells. Here and there is seen
the large blue poppy (Meconopsis sp.) and a white anemone
with five or six flowers on one stem. Soon the trees get
scantier and scantier, pines disappear altogether and then
birches and willows and junipers, until only dwarf rhododen-
drons (R. setosum) are left, covering the hillsides Hke purple
heather.

In a few miles the country changes in character
completely, and you come out on to the open plain of Phari.
Here at 14,000 feet we saw the common cuckoo sitting on
a telegraph wire and calHng vigorously. This is Tibet
proper, and henceforward you may travel for scores of miles
and hardly see any plant more than a few inches high. In
some places a little trumpet-shaped purple flower {Incarvillea
younghushandii) is fairly common, it lies prone on the sand
with its leaves usually buried out of sight ; and as we went
Westward we found a dwarf blue iris (7. tenuifolia). Animals
are few and far between : the I^ang, the wild ass of Tibet,
is occasionally seen in small parties ; they are very
conspicuous on the open plains in full daylight, but almost
invisible at dusk. The Tibetan gazeUe is fairly numerous,
and it is not uncommon to see one or two in company with
a flock of native sheep and taking no notice of the shepherd,
but when a stranger tries to approach they are off Uke a
flash. Another animal of the plains is the Tibetan antelope
(Pantholops), which is found in large numbers a little to the
North of the region we visited, but the only signs of it we
saw were the horns used as supporting prongs for the long

NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 293

muzzle-loading guns of the Tibetans. The Tibetan antelope
was probably the Unicorn described by the French priest
Hue in 1845.

The only mammals that are commonly seen on the plains
are the small mouse-hares or pikas (Ochotona), which live
in colonies on the less stony parts of the plain, where their
burrows often caused our ponies to stumble ; they scurry
off to their holes at your approach, but if you wait a few
moments you will see heads peeping out at you from all
sides. These engaging little creatures have been called
" Whistling Hares," but of the three species which we found
none was ever heard to utter a sound of any kind. The
Tibetan name for them is Phiise. It is interesting to record
that from one specimen I took three fleas of two species,
both of them new to science.

Birds are few on these stony wastes, larks, wheatears
and snow-finches being the commonest. Elwes' shore-lark
was found feeding young birds at the beginning of June,
when the ground was not yet free from snow, and the song
of the Tibetan skylark, remarkably like that of our own
skylark, was heard over every patch of native cultivation.

A small spiny lizard {Phrynocephalus theohaldi) is common
on the plains and on the lower hiUs up to 17,000 feet ; it
lives in shallow burrows on the sand and under stones.

Rising out of the plam North of the Himalayas are
ranges of rounded limestone hills, 18,000 to 19,000 feet high,
running roughly East and West. The hills between Phari
and Khamba Dzong are the home of the big sheep {Ovis
hodgsoni), which are occasionally seen in small companies.
There are many ranges to the West of Khamba Dzong,
apparently well suited to this animal, but it was never seen.
On the slopes of these hills are found partridges {Perdix
hodgsonice), and in the ravines are seen Alpine choughs,
rock-doves {Columha rwpestris) and crag-martins. Once or
twice at night we heard the shi'iek of the great eagle-owl,
but the bird was not seen.

At rare intervals on these plains one meets with small

294 MOUNT EVEREST

rivers, tributaries of the Arun River ; along their banks is
usually more grass than elsewhere, and here the wandering
Tibetan herdsmen bring their yaks to graze. The wild yak
is not found anywhere in this region. It might be supposed
that so hairy an animal as the yak would become dirty
and unkempt. Actually they are among the cleanest of
creatures, and they may often be seen scraping holes in soft
banks where they roll and kick and comb themselves into
silky condition. The usual colour of the domesticated yak
is black, more rarely a yellowish brown. A common variety
has a white face and white tail. The calves are born in
the spring, late April or early May.

Here and there the rivers overflow their banks and form
lakes or meres, which in the summer are the haunt of
innumerable wild-fowl : bar-headed geese and redshanks
nest here, families of ruddy shelducks (the Brahminy duck
of India) and garganey teal are seen swimming on the pools.
Overhead fly sand-martins, brown-headed gulls, common
terns and white-tailed eagles. Near one of these lakes one
day I watched at close distance a red fox stalking a pair
of bar-headed geese, a most interesting sight, and had the
satisfaction of saving the birds by firing a shot in the air
with my small collecting gun just as the fox was about to
pounce on his intended victim.

Tinki Dzong is a veritable bird sanctuary. The Dzong
itself is a rambling fort covering a dozen or so of acres, and
about its walls nest hundreds of birds — ravens, magpies,
red-billed choughs, tree-sparrows, hoopoes, Indian redstarts,
Hodgson's pied wagtails and rock-doves. In the shallow
pool outside the Dzong were swimming bar-headed geese
and ruddy shelducks, with families of young birds, all as
tame as domestic poultry. A pair of white storks was seen
here in June, but they did not appear to be breeding. In
the autumn the lakes in this neighbourhood are the resort of
large packs of widgeon, gadwall and pochard. The Jongpen
explained to us that it was the particular wish of the Dalai
Lama that no birds should be molested here, and for several

JUNII'KKS IN THK KaMA X'AI.I.KV.

NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 295

years two lamas lived at Tinki, whose special business it
was to protect the birds.

Crossing over a pass of about 17,000 feet (Tinki La),
the slopes gay with a little purple and white daphne {Stellera),
said by the natives to be poisonous to animals, we came to
a plain of a different character, miles of blown sand heaped
here and there into enormous dunes, on which grows a yellow-
flowering gorse. Here, near Chushar, we first met with
rose-finches (Severtzoff's and Przjewalsk's) and the brown
ground-chough {Podoces humilis) : the last-named is a
remarkable-looking bird, which progresses by a series of
apparently top-heavy bounds, at the end of which it turns
round to steady itself ; in the middle of June it was feeding
its young in nests at the bottom of deep holes in sand or old
mud walls.

Following up the valley of the Bhong-chu we crossed
the river by a stone bridge near Shekar Dzong. Here we
found a colony of white-rumped swifts nesting high up in
cliffs and ruddy shelducks nesting in holes among the loose
boulders below. Occasionally we saw a pair of black-necked
cranes, which are said by the natives to breed near lakes
a little to the North, but we had no opportunity of visiting
them. The slopes of the hills facing South were covered
with a very pretty shrub {Soj^Jiora) with blue and white
flowers and delicate silvery grey leaves, and among the loose
stones a small clematis {C. orientalis) was just beginning to
appear. Groups of small trees, like a sea buckthorn, growing
15 to 20 feet high, indicate a gradual change in the climate
as you go Westwards. Here also for the first time we began
to find a few butterflies, of the genera Lyccena and Colias.

At Tingri we found ourselves in a large plain about 20 miles
long by 12 wdde ; a large part of the plam is saturated -wdth
soda and is almost uninhabited by bird or beast. In our tliree
weeks' stay at Tingri we collected several mammals, including
a new subspecies of hamster {Cricetulus alticola tibetanus)
and a number of birds. This was the only place where we
ever received any natural history specimen from a Tibetan.

296 MOUNT EVEREST

A woman came into our camp one day and, after making
certain that she was not observed by any of the villagers,
produced from a sack a well-worn domestic cat's skin stuffed
with grass and a freshly kiUed stoat {Mustela longstaffi).
The skin of the stoat is highly prized by the Tibetans, who
say that it has the property of restoring faded turquoises
to their former beauty. About the houses of the village
were nesting tree-sparrows, hoopoes, rock-doves and ravens,
the latter so tame that they hardly troubled to get out of
the way of passers-by. In a tower of the old fort lived a
pair of the Eastern little owl {Athene bactriana), which appeared
to live principally on voles. On the plain the commonest
birds were the long-billed calandra lark, Brook's short-toed
lark, the Tibetan skylark, and Elwes' shore-lark, aU of which
were found with eggs, probably the second brood of the
season, at the beginning of July. The nest of the yellow-
headed wagtail, rare at Tingri, was found with eggs, and
Blanford's snow-finch was found feeding its young more
than 2 feet down the burrow of a pika {Ochotona curzonice).
The common tern and the greater sand-plover nested on the
shingly islands in the river.

Plants at Tingri were few and inconspicuous : a small
yellow cistus, the dwarf blue iris, a small aster and a curious
hairy, claret-coloured flower {Thermopsis) were the most notice-
able. Along the rivers which traverse the plain is very good
grazing for the large flocks of sheep and goats of the
Tibetans ; the sheep are smaU and are grown entirely for wool.
By a simple system of irrigation a large area of land near
Tingri has been brought into cultivation. Tlie principal
crop here is barley, which constitutes the chief food of the
people ; they also grow a large radish or smaU turnip, the
young leaves of which are excellent food. The animals
usually used for ploughing are a cross between the yak and
ordinary domestic cattle, caUed by the Tibetans " zoh " ;
they are more powerful than the yak and are excellent
transport animals. We found barley grown in many districts
up to 15,000 feet— it does not always ripen — and in the

NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 297

valley of the Dzakar Chu near its junction with the Arun
River is a small area where wheat is grown at an altitude of
about 12,800 feet. Peas are grown in the Arun Valley near
Kharta, where they ripen in September and are pounded
into meal for winter food of cattle as well as of the Tibetans
themselves. Mustard is grown in the lower valleys below
14,000 feet. It is to be regretted that we did not bring
back specimens of these hardy cereals.

During the course of an excursion of about three weeks
in July to the West and South of Tingri we covered a large
tract of unexplored country, much of which is more Nepalese
than Tibetan in character. Going over the Thung La we
found numerous butterflies of the genus Parnassus^ and
near the top of the pass (18,000 feet) we found for the first
time the beautiful little blue Gentiana amosna ; it is not
easy to see until you are right over it, when it looks hke a
little square blue china cup ; some of the flowers are as
much as an inch in diameter. Here also was just beginning
to flower the dwarf blue poppy {Meconopsis horridula),
which grows in a smaU compact clump, 6 to 8 inches high,
with as many as sixteen flowers and buds on one plant ;
the flowers are nearly 2 inches across and of a heavenly blue.
In this region, too, we met for the first time marmots, which
live in large colonies at about 16,000 feet ; the Himalayan
is larger than the Alpine marmot, and it has a longish tail
which it whisks sharply from side to side when it is alarmed ;
it has a twittering cry, curiously like that of a bnd of prey.

Continuing down the valley of the Po Chu to Nyenyam,
we found several birds that we had not met hitherto, notably
the brown accentor, Himalayan tree-pipit, Adams's snow-
finch, the Himalayan greenfinch and TickeU's willow- warbler.
At about 12,500 feet we first found the white-backed dove
{Columha leuconota), which inhabits the deep gorges of the
Himalayas but does not extend out on to the Tibetan plain.
Beside the big torrent that flows South from Gosainthan
we saw a pair of that curious curlew-like bii'd, the ibis-biU
(Ibidorhynchus struthersi) ; it was evident that they had

298 MOUNT EVEREST

eggs or young on an island in the torrent, at about 13,800
feet, but unfortunately it was impossible to reach it.

The most conspicuous flowers in this region were a little
bushy cistus with golden flowers the size of a half-crown,
a dwarf rhododendron {R. lanatum) with hairy leaves, a
white potentilla with red centre, which carpeted the drier
hillsides, a white gentian {G. robnsta), and a very remarkable
louse-wort {Pedicularis megalantha) with two quite distinct
forms — one purple, the other yellow.

Crossing a pass to the East of Nyenyam, we camped on
a level spot covered densely with white primulas (P. Buryana)
six to eight inches high ; an inch or two of snow fell during
the night, and so white are these flowers that it was difficult
to see them against the snow. Near the top of another
pass we found at about the same altitude, 15,000 feet,
another primula (P. WoUastonii) with three to six beUs
on each stem, the size of a small thimble, of a deep
blue colour, and lined inside with frosted silver. In the
moister valleys hereabouts a pretty pink-flowered polygonum
(P. vacciniifolium) rambled everywhere over the rocks and
boulders. The Rongshar VaUey in July was chiefly notable
for the large gooseberry bushes, 10 to 12 feet high, and for
the profusion of red and white roses. A waU-creeper, the
only one we saw m Tibet, was seen creeping about the temple
at Lapche, a few miles to the West of Rongshar.

From the beginning of August our headquarters were
at Kharta in the Arun Valley, about 20 miles East of Mount
Everest, and from there we made excursions South to the
Kama Valley, and West up the Kharta Valley in the direction
of Everest. Kliarta itself is curiously situated as regards
climate : the wide dry valley of the Ai'un narrows abruptly
and the river passes into a deep gorge, where it falls rapidly
at a rate of about 200 feet to the mile on its way to Nepal.
The heavy monsoon clouds roll up the gorge to its mouth,
where they are cut off sharply, so that within a mile you
may pass from the dry climate of Tibet to the moist, steamy
air of a Nepalese character, with its luxuriant vegetation.

NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 299

In the immediate neighbourhood of Kharta were several
birds we had not met elsewhere, notably Prince Henry's
laughing thrush {Trockalopierum henrici), which is very much
venerated as a sacred bird by the Tibetans, the Central
Asian blackbird, almost indistinguishable from our blackbird
except by its voice, the solitary thrush, Indian brown turtle-
dove, and a meadow-bunting (Emheriza godlewskii), probably
a migrant from the North.

Several species of small gentians and two very fragrant
onosmas were flowering in August, and in this place Clematis
orientalis attains its best growth, clambering over the trees
and the houses of the natives ; the flower of this clematis
has a very wide range of colour from an apricot yellow to
almost black. About the houses are often planted junipers
and poplars, and it was about 10 miles from Kharta that
we saw a poplar nearly 40 feet in gii'th, which we were informed
was five hundi'ed years old.

A few miles to the south of Kharta is a valley filled with
a dozen or so of small lakes or tarns, inhabited apparently
only by tadpoles {Rana pleskei) ; no fish could be seen.
Not far from here was discovered an interesting toad of a
new species {CopJwphryne alticola). Growing about the
lakes were large beds of purple and yeUow iris (/. sibirica,
near) ; the steeper banks were blue with a very striking
campanula (Cyanantlius pedunculatus) ; growing out from
among the dwarf rhododendi^ons in dry places were tall
spikes of a claret-coloured meconopsis, now going to seed
— some spikes had as many as twenty seed-pods ; and
in the moist places beside the lakes and streams was the
tall yellow primula (P. elongata), growmg to a height of over
30 inches.

Ascending from the lakes to the Chog La we saw a smaU
black rat amongst the huge boulders of a moraine ; it appeared
to be a very active little animal, and though four or five
were seen at different times in similar situations we failed
to secure a specimen. Near the Chog La we found the snow-
partridge (Lerwa lerwa). and one was shot out of a flock of

300 MOUNT EVEREST

very beautiful blue birds — Hodgson's grandala. Another
very handsome bird in this region is the red-breasted rose-
finch, which is found up to 18,000 feet. Descending from
the Chog La towards the Kama Valley we found at 16,000
feet the giant rhubarb {Rheum nobile), and at 14,000 feet
we picked quantities of the wild edible rhubarb. A little
lower down we came to large blue scabius, 3 to 4 feet high,
a dark blue monkshood and quantities of the tall yellow
poppy. Rhododendrons, birches and junipers begin at
about 13,500 feet, and at 12,000 feet the junipers are the
predominating tree ; they are of immense size, upwards of
20 feet in gkth and from 120 to 150 feet in height and of
a very even and perfect growth. Here we met with the
Sikkim black tit {Parus heavani), and a little lower down
among the firs {Abies webhiana) we came upon bullfinches
{Pyrrhula erythrocephala). At 11,000 feet I saw a langur
monkey {Semnopithecus entellus)^ the only monkey I saw
in Tibet. Excepting one solitary bat, the only other mammal
we saw in this valley was another species of pika {Ochotona
roylei nepalensis), which appears here to be confined to a
zone between the altitudes of 12,000 and 14,000 feet ; it
is not found in dry valleys.

Among the trees in the lower Kama Valley grow many
parnassias, a tall green fritillaria, a handsome red swertia
and a very sweet-scented pink orchis. We found the tubers
(but not the flowers) of an arum, which the Tibetans collect
and make of it a very unpalatable bread. We went down
through large rhododendrons, magnolias, bamboos, alders,
sycamores, all draped in long wisps of lichen {Usnea), to the
junction of the Kama with the Arun River, where we found
ourselves in the region of the blue pine. The lower part
of the Kama Valley is unpleasantly full of leeches, and in
the course of an excursion to the Popti La (14,000 feet),
one of the principal passes from Tibet to Sikkim, we were
astonished to find them very numerous and active at an
altitude of 12,000 feet. At our low-altitude camps in this
valley hundreds of moths were attracted by the light of our

FORKST IN THF, KaMA VaLI.KV.

NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 301

camp fire, and a few came to the dim candle lamps in our
tents. A collector who came here with a proper equipment
could not fail to make a large collection of moths.

Proceeding up the Kharta Valley in the beginning of
September we found that most of the roses and rhododendrons
had gone to seed, but some of the gentians, particularly
Gentiana ornata, were at their best. Near our camp at
17,000 feet, along the edges of streams, a very handsome
gentian {G. nuhigena) with half a dozen flowers growing on
a single stem was very conspicuous, and growing with it
was an aromatic little purple and yellow aster [A. hetero'
cJiceta) ; in the same place was a bright yellow senecio {S.
arnicoides) with shining, glossy leaves. A curious dark blue
dead-nettle {Dracocephalum speciosum) was found on dry
ground at the same altitude. In the stony places grew up
to 19,000 feet the dwarf blue meconopsis mentioned above,
and many saxifrages, notably a very small white one {S.
umbellulata). On the steeper rocks from 16,000 feet to the
snow-line (roughly 20,000 feet) were found edelweiss {Leonto-
podium) of three species. Very noticeable at these altitudes
are the curious saussureas, large composites packed with
cotton wool ; if you open one of them on the coldest day,
even when it is covered with snow, you find it quite warm
inside, and often a bumble bee will come buzzing out.

Another very interesting plant at 17,000 to 18,000 feet
is a dwarf blue hairy delphinium {D. hrunnoneanum) with
a strong smell. The Tibetans dry the flowers of this plant
and use them as a preventive against lice. This has its
disadvantages, for when a Tibetan dies his body is undertaken
by the professional butcher, who cuts it up and exposes it
on the hills to be disposed of by the vultures and wolves.
A body tainted with the delphinium flowers is unpalatable
to the scavengers, and it is known that a man must have
been wicked in life whose body is rejected by the vultures
and wolves.

The smallest rhododendrons {B. setosum and R. lepidotum)
disappear before 19,000 feet, after wliich vegetation is almost

302 MOUNT EVEREST

non-existent. A few grasses and mosses are still found to
20,000 feet, and the highest plant we found was a small
arenaria {A. musciformis), which grows in flat cushions a
few inches wide up to 20,100 feet.

Mammals in the upper Kharta Valley are not numerous.
A pika of a new species {Ochotona wollastoni) is found from
15,000 to 20,000 feet, and a new vole {Phaiotnys everesti)
was found at 17,000 feet. Tlie small black rat previously
seen was here too, and an unseen mouse entered our tents
and ate our food at 20,000 feet. Fox and hare were both
seen above 18,000 feet, and undoubted tracks of them on
the Kharta Glacier at 21,000 feet. Wolves were seen about
19,000 feet, and those tracks seen in snow at 21,500 feet,
which gave rise to so much discussion, were almost certainly
those of a wolf. Burrhel were fairly common between 17,000
and 19,000 feet, and we found their droppings on stones
at 20,000 feet.

Birds of several species were found from 17,000 feet
upwards. The Tibetan snow-partridge (Te^raogra?Z?i5 tibetanus)
is common in large parties up to the snow-line. Dippers
{Cinclus cashmiriensis) are found in the streams up to
17,000 feet, and at about the same altitude lives in the
big boulders of moraines a small and very dark wren, which
is almost certainly new, but only one immature bird was
brought home. Snow-finches and the Eastern alpine accentor
appeared to be resident up to the snow-line. Several
migrating birds were seen in September at 17,000 feet and
above, among them Temminck's stint, painted snipe, pin-
tailed snipe, house-martin and several pipits. More than once
at night the cry of migrating waders was heard, curlew
being unmistakable, and (I think) bar-tailed godwit.

Our camps at 17,000 feet and at 20,000 feet were visited
daily by lammergeier, raven, red-billed chough, alpine
chough and black-eared kite, and I saw twice a hoopoe fly
over the Kharta Glacier at about 21,000 feet ; a small pale
hawk flew overhead at the same time. The highest bird
seen was a lammergeier (bearded vulture) ; when I was

NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 303

taking photographs from our camp on the Lhakpa La (22,350
feet) I saw one of these birds come sailing over the top of
the North peak of Everest and apparently high above the
peak, probably at an altitude of not less than 25,000 feet.*

* Detailed accounts of the collections made will be found : Mammals,
Annals and Magazine of Nat. Hist., Feb. 1922, Birds, Ibis., July, 1922.
Insects, Annals and Magazine of Nat. Hist., May and June, 1922.

CHAPTER XX

AN APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE

By Professor NORMAN COLLIE, F.R.S.
President of the Alpine Club

The chance of wandering into the wild places of the
earth is given to few. But those who have once visited
the Himalaya wiU never forget either the magnificence or
the beauty of that immense mountain land, whether it
be the valley country that Hes between the great snow-
covered ranges and the plains, where wonderful forests,
flowers, clear streams and lesser peaks form a fitting guard
to the mighty snow-peaks that lie beyond, or the great peaks
themselves, that can be seen far away to the North, as one
approaches through the foot-hills that lead up to them.
The huge snow-covered giants may be a week's journey
away, they may be far more, yet when seen through the
clear air of the hiUs, perhaps 100 miles distant, they look
immense, inaccessible, remote and lonely. But as one
approaches nearer and nearer to them, they ever grow more
splendid, glistening white in the mid- day sun, rose-red at
dawn, or a golden orange at sunset, with faint opalescent
green shadows that deepen as the daylight fails, tiU when
night comes they stand far up in the sky, pale and ghostly
against the glittering stars. Those who have been fortunate
enough to see these things, know the fascination they
exert. It is the call of the great spaces and of the
great mountains. It is a caU that mocks at the song of
the Lotus-eaters of old, it is more insidious than the Siren's
caU, and it is a caU that, once heard, is never forgotten.

One may be contented and busy with the multitudinous

304

APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 305

little events of ordinary civilised life, but a chance phrase
or some allusion wakes the memory of the wild mountain
lands, and one feels sick with desire for the open spaces
and the old trails. The dreams of the wanderer are far
more real than most of the happenings that make up the
average man's life. It may be the memory of some desolate
peaks set against an angry sky, or of islands set in summer
seas, or some grim fight with deserts of endless sands, or
with tropical forests that have held their growth for a thousand
years; it may be the memory of rushing rivers, or lakes
set in wild woods where the beavers build their houses, or
sunsets over great oceans — the speU binds one, the present
does not exist, one is back again on the old trail — " The Red
Gods have caUed us out, and we must go."

There is no part of the world where lofty mountains
exist at aU comparable with the Himalaya. Elsewhere
the highest is Aconcagua, 23,060 feet. But in the Himalaya
there are over eighty peaks that tower above 24,000 feet,
probably twenty above 26,000 feet, six above 27,000 feet,
and the highest of all. Mount Everest, is 29,141 feet.

The huge range of mountains, of which the Himalaya
forms the chief part, is by far the greatest mountain range
in the world. Starting to the North of Afghanistan, it
sweeps Eastwards, without a break, to the confines of China,
over 2,000 miles away. Yet in this vast world of mountains,
very few have been climbed. For many years to come the
Himalaya will provide sport for the mountaineer when most
of the other mountain ranges of the world will have been
exhausted, as far as exploration and new ascents are
concerned.

Mountaineering is a sport of which Englishmen should
be proud ; for they were the first really to pursue it as a
pastime. The Alpine Club was the first mountaineering
club, and if one inquires into the records of climbing and
discovery amongst the mountains of the world, one usually
finds that it was an Englishman who led the way. It is
the Englishman's love of sport for its own sake that has

M.E. X

306 MOUNT EVEREST

enticed him on to battle with the dangers and difficulties
that are offered with such a lavish hand by the great
mountains.

As a sport, mountameering is second to none. It is
the finest mental and physical tonic that a man can take.
Whether it be the grim determination of desperate struggles
with difficult rocks, or with ice, or whether it be the sight
of ra.nge after range of splendid peaks basking in the sunshine,
or of mists half hiding the black precipices, or the changing
fairy colours of a sunrise, or the subtle curves of the wind-
blown snow, all these are good for one. They produce a
sane mind in a sane body. The joy of living becomes a
real and a great joy, all is right with the world, and life
flies on golden wings. It is, of course, true that there are
many other beautiful and health-giving places besides the
mountains. The great expanses of the prairie lands, the
forests, the seas set with lonely islands, and in England the
downs and the homely lanes and villages nestling amongst
woods, with clear streams wandering through the pastures
where the cattle feed — all these are good ; but the mountains
give something more. There things are larger, man is more
alone, one feels that one is much nearer to Nature, one is
not held down by an artificial civihsation. And although
the life may be more strenuous (for Nature can be savage
at times, as weU as beautiful), and the struggle may be hard,
yet the battle is the more worth winning.

Nowhere in any mountain land does Nature offer the
good things of the wilds with more prodigal hand than in
the Himalaya. On the Southern slopes, coming down from
the great snow-peaks, are the finest river gorges in the world,
wonderful forests of mighty trees, open alps nestling high up
at the head of the vaUeys, that look out over great expanses
of the lesser ranges ; and as one ascends higher and higher,
the views of the great peaks draped in everlasting snow,
changing perpetually as the clouds and mists form and
re-form over them, astonish one by their magnificence.

AU things that the Himalaya gives are big things, and

APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 307

now that the mountaineer has conquered the lesser ranges,
he turns to the Himalaya, where the peaks stand head and
shoulders above all others. Up to the present, however,
owing to the difficulties of distance and size, none of the
greater peaks have been cUmbed.

In climbing the great peaks of the Himalaya, the
difficulties are far greater than those of less lofty ranges.
On most of the highest the mere cUmbing presents such
difficulties that it would be foolish to attempt their ascent.
Thousands of feet of steep rock or ice guard their summits.
Unless climbing above 24,000 feet is moderately easy, and
no strenuous work is required, it could not be accomplished.
For in the rarefied air at high altitudes there is insufficient
oxygen to promote the normal oxidation of bodily tissue.
Above 20,000 feet a cubic foot of air contains less than half
the amount of oxygen that it does at sea-level. As the
whole metaboUsm of the body is kept in working order by
the oxygen supplied through the lungs, the obvious result
of high altitudes is to interfere with the various processes
occurring in the system. The combustion of bodily material
is less, the amount of energy produced is therefore less also,
and so capacity for work is diminished progressively as one
ascends.

But that one is able still to work, and work hard, at
these altitudes is evident by the experiences of Dr. Longstaff
and Mr. Meade. On Trisul, 23,360 feet. Dr. Longstaff in
ten and a half hours ascended from 17,450 feet to the summit.
Whilst on Kamet, IVIr. Meade's cooUes carried a camp up
to 23,600 feet. Dr. Kellas also in 1920 found his ascent
on moderately easy snow above 21,000 feet approximated
to 600 feet per hour. AU these cHmbers were, however,
acclimatised to high altitudes. The effect on anyone making
a balloon or aeroplane ascent from sea-level would be different.
Tissaudier in a baUoon ascent fainted at 26,500 feet and
on regaming consciousness found both his companions dead.
Even on Pike's Peak, 14,109 feet, in the United States,
jnany of those who go up in the railway suffer from faintness,

308 MOUNT EVEREST

sickness, breathlessness and general lassitude. Yet there
are places on the earth, — the Pamirs, — where people live
their Hves at higher altitudes than Pike's Peak, without
any effects of the diminished pressure being felt. They
are accHmatised ; their bodies, being accustomed to their
surroundings, are good working machines.

Although it is true that at high altitudes there is less
oxygen to breathe, the body rapidly protects itself by increas-
ing the number of red blood corpuscles. These red corpuscles
are the carriers of oxygen from the air to the various parts
of the body. An increased number of carriers means an
increase of oxygen to the body. It is just possible, therefore,
that anyone properly acclimatised to, say, 23,000 feet would
be able to ascend the remaining 6,000 feet, to the summit
of Mount Everest. Moreover, if oxygen could be continuously
supplied to the climbers by adventitious aid there is little
doubt that 29,000 feet could be reached.

The physiological difficulties met with in ascending to
high altitudes are doubtless of a very high order, but can
to a certain extent be eliminated by ascending gradually,
day after day, so as to allow the body to accommodate
itself by degrees to the new surroundings.

There are, however, other difficulties that must be reckoned
with, such as intense cold and frequent high winds. In
any engine where loss of heat occurs, there is a corresponding
loss of available energy. A bitterly cold wind not only
robs one of much heat, but lowers the vitaUty as well. At
altitudes above 24,000 feet, the temperature is often arctic,
and the thermometer may faU far below zero. On the other
hand, the rays of the sun are intense. The ultra-violet
rays, that are mostly cut off by the air at sea-level, are a
real source of danger where there is only one-third of an
atmosphere pressure, as in the case at the summit of Mount
Everest.

The mountaineer also encounters dangers in the Himalaya,
on the same scale as the difficulties. A snow-slide on a
British mountain or in the Alps is an avalanche ; often in

APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 309

the Himalaya it becomes almost a convulsion of nature.
The huge ice-fields and glaciers that hang on the upper slopes
of the mountains, when let loose, have not hundreds of feet
to fall, but thousands, and the wind that is thereby produced
spreads with hurricane force over the glaciers below, on to
which the main body of the avalanche has fallen. Sometimes
even the broken debris will rush across a wide glacier.

Rock falls also assume gigantic proportions in the
Himalaya. But all these dangers can be largely avoided
by the skiUed mountaineer, and he can choose routes up a
mountain where they are not likely to occur. Some risks,
however, must be always run, but they can be reduced to a
minimum.

On Mount Everest, as we now know, most of these dangers
will be less than on any of the other very high mountains
in the Himalaya. Also there are no difficulties in the approach
to Mount Everest from India. In this respect it differs
from such peaks as K^ and others. As a rule the highest
mountains in the Himalaya always lie far back from the
plains in the main chain, beyond the foot-hills and the
intervening ranges. To approach them from the South in
India, weeks of travel are often necessary, up deep gorges,
and over rivers, where it is next to impossible to take baggage
animals. Fortunately the approach to Mount Everest by
the route from Darjeeling to Phari Dzong and thence over
an easy pass into Tibet avoids all these difficulties. In
Tibet a high tableland, averaging 13,000 feet, is reached.

Travelling in Tibet, North of the main range of the
Himalaya, is entirely different from that on the South of
the range. Instead of deep-cut gorges, a roUing, bare, stone-
covered country exists, over which it is easy to take baggage
animals, the only obstacle being the rivers that sometimes
are not bridged, and are often swollen by the melting snow.
From Kampa Dzong to Tingri Dzong, the base of operations
for the Expedition, is an open country. Mount Everest lies
40 to 50 miles South of Tingri Dzong ; the approach also is
without difficulty.

310 MOUNT EVEREST

The ascent of Mount Everest was not the primary object
of the Expedition of 1921. A mountain the size of Mount
Everest cannot be climbed by simply getting to it and starting
the ascent immediately.

A reasonable route has to be discovered to the summit ;
which usually can only be done by a complete reconnaissance
of the mountain. This has been admirably done, and a
most magnificent series of photographs has been brought
back by the members of the Expedition.

Mount Everest consists of a huge pyramid, having three
main aretes, the West, the South-east, and the North-east.
It is the last, the North-east arete, that is obviously the
easiest, being snow-covered along most of its length. Nowhere
is it excessively steep, and nowhere are there precipices of
rock to stop the cHmber. We now know that it can be
reached, by means of a subsidiary ridge, from a col 23,000
feet, the Chang La, that lies to the north of the North-east
arete. This col was the highest point on Mount Everest
reached by the Expedition, and had it not been for savage
weather a considerably higher altitude would have been
attained ; for above the col for several thousand feet lay an
unbroken snow-slope.

It was only after much hard work, and over two months'
exploration, that a route to this col was discovered. As
is usually the case even with mountains far smaller than
Mount Everest, it can be seen that if a point, often a long
way below the summit, can be reached, not much farther
difficulty will be encountered. But the puzzle is, how can
that point be arrived at from below ?

Quite early in the exploration of Mount Everest it was
obvious that if the 23,000-foot col could be reached, most
of the physical difficulties of the approach to the mountain
would have been surmounted. But it was not so obvious
how to win to the col. It lies on the South-east at the head
of the main Rongbuk Glacier ; it was therefore to this glacier
that the mountaineers, Messrs. Mallory and Bullock, went
from Tingri Dzong on June 23. They spent a month exploring

APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 311

the country to the North and the West of Mount Everest
from the Rongbuk Glacier. Much valuable information
was accumulated. A peak, Ri-Ring, 22,520 feet, was
climbed and a pass on the West ridge of Mount Everest was
visited, from which were seen views of the South-west face
of the great mountain and also many high peaks in Nepal.
Unfortunately, however, no feasible route from the main
Rongbuk Glacier to the 23,000-foot col could be found.
The next attempt was made by leaving the Rongbuk Glacier
and exploring the Kama Valley that flows South-east from
Mount Everest, Here a most magnificent ice-world was
discovered. For a chain of giant peaks running South-east
from Mount Everest to Makalu, 27,790 feet, guards th|
whole of the South-west side of the valley. But as an
approach to the North-east arete of Mount Everest this
valley was found to be useless. From the point of view,
however, of exploration it was most fortunate that this
vaUey was visited. The photographs of Makalu and its
satellite Chomo-Lonzo, N.^^ 25,413 feet, are superb ;
moreover the lower reaches of the Kama Valley, as it dips
down to the deep Arun Valley, was fuU of luxuriant vegetation,
totally different from the wind-swept wilderness of Tibet.

The Kharta VaUey, that runs North-east from Mount
Everest, was the next exploited, to see whether from it an
easy approach to the North-east arete existed. But by
this time the monsoon weather was at its worst. Days of
rain and mist, with snow higher up, succeeded one another,
making climbing impossible. However, towards the end of
September a high camp at 22,500 feet was made at the head
of the Kharta Valley. From this camp the 23,000-foot
col, Chang La, was finally reached, by crossing the head
of a glacier that ran to the North. Higher climbmg was
out of the question; a furious North-west gale lasting for
four days drove the party off the mountain.

The glacier mentioned above, running to the North, was
found to be a tributary of the main Rongbuk Glacier, and
has been named the East Rongbuk Glacier. There is no

312 MOUNT EVEREST

doubt that the easiest route to Chang La, the North Col, will
not be all the way round by the Kharta Valley, but up this
East Rongbuk Glacier.

Several other interesting expeditions were carried out
by other members of the party. Colonel Howard Bury
visited the group of five great peaks (25,202 to 26,867 feet),
that lie about 15 miles North-west of Mount Everest. He
explored the Kyetrak Glacier to its summit the Khombu La,
also crossed the Phiise La with the Rongshar Valley that
drains down into Nepal. Later he visited another pass on
the ridge that connects Mount Everest with Makalu. From
this pass most interesting views of the country South of
Mount Everest were obtained.

Major Wheeler's and Major Morshead's map of the
country that lies between the Himalaya and the Bramapootra
River will be of the highest value, and the results of Dr.
Heron's geological survey and IMr. WoUaston's collections of
birds, beasts, insects and flowers, when they have been
thoroughly examined, will certainly yield much new scientific
information. The Expedition therefore has accomplished ah
that was expected of it, and has brought back material of
the greatest interest, from a part of the world about which
almost nothing was known, and into which Europeans had
never been.

The attempt to ascend Mount Everest itself necessarily
had to be postponed, but this year the Expedition that is
being sent out will have for its primary object the ascent of
the mountain. There will be easy access to the base of the
peak from Chobuk, where a base camp will be established,
and from thence a feasible route on to the summit of the
great North-east arete has been discovered.

Most fortunately this year General Bruce was able to
undertake the leadership of the Expedition. His unrivalled
experience of climbing in the Himalaya and particularly
his special capacity for handling Himalayan people wiQ be
invaluable to the Expedition. Not only wiU he be able to
organise and instil the right spirit into the coolie corps upon

APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 313

whom so much will depend for ultimate success, but he will
also be able to give much wise advice to the actual chmbers
who are to take part in the ascent of the mountain.

Moreover, with his long experience of dealing with Asiatics
he can be trusted to deal with the Tibetan people and officials
in such a way as to retain their present good-wiU.

As the main object of the Expedition this year is to make
a definite attempt to reach the summit of Mount Everest,
it has been decided that the actual climbing party should be
as strong as possible. But a limit to the size of the Expedition
was imposed by the necessity of respect for the feehngs of
the Tibetans, and a warning had been received from Lhasa
to keep the numbers as small as possible. For, although
the authorities at Lhasa might be friendly enough, and
although there might be no difficulty in obtaining transport
from the district round Tingri Dzong, where animals were
plentiful, yet a large party might press hardly on the
inhabitants in the matter of food, such as wheat and barley.
This consideration had therefore to be regarded. Still it
was thought that the district would not be unduly pressed
by a party of twelve Europeans. This number wiU include
a cUmbing party of six chosen mountaineers, with two m
reserve, making eight in aU. With General Bruce, a doctor
(who would also be a naturalist), a photographer and a
painter, the expeditionary force of Europeans wiU be complete.
Colonel E. L. Strutt, C.M.G., has been chosen as second
in command. He possesses first-rate mountaineering experi-
ence, and has been Vice-President of the Alpme Club.

Mr. Mallory fortunately has been able to accept the
invitation of the Committee to return to Mount Everest
again this year. The remainder of the climbing party are ;
Captain George Finch, who was unable to join the Expedition
last year on account of his health; 'Mr. T. H. SomerveU, a
surgeon, a member of the Alpine Club and an extremely
energetic cUmber; Major E. F. Norton (Royal Artillery); and
Dr. A. W. Wakefield, renowned for his strenuous climbing in
the Lake District and work in Labrador. Besides these six

314 MOUNT EVEREST

mountaiiieers, Captain Geoffrey Bruce and Captain C. J. Morris,
both of Gurkha Regiments, and able to speak the language
of the Himalayan coolies, will assist General Bruce both in
looking after and encouraging the coolies, and also help in
the general arrangement and organisation of the Expedition
as a whole. They also are accustomed to mountaineering
and will act as a reserve to the six climbers.

As doctor and naturalist Dr. T. G. Longstaff has been
mvited to join the Expedition. He has made many climbs
in the Himalaya and other mountain regions, including the
ascent of Trisul, 23,360 feet. He is not expected to join
the cHmbing party, but his experience will be of great benefit
to the Expedition generally.

As photographer. Captain J. B. L. Noel has been selected.
He had reconnoitred in the direction of Mount Everest in
1913. For several years he has made a special study of
photography in all its various branches.

But besides photographs of the mountains, the Expedition
is anxious to bring back pictures which would alone be able
not only to serve as a record of the infinitely delicate
colouring of that lofty region, but at the same time would
show how probably some of the grandest scenery of mighty
mountains should be represented from the point of view of
an artist.

Difficulty was experienced in finding a suitable painter,
for painters capable of doing justice to mountain scenery,
and who are also physically fit to travel amongst them at
such altitudes as those round Mount Everest, are few. We
have, therefore, to depend on Mr. Somervell to paint us
pictures.

In the meantime communications were also passing
between Colonel Bailey, the Political Agent in Sikkim, and
the Mount Everest Committee regarding the enlistment of
coolies for the special corps, and the engagement of the very
best headman obtainable to look after them. Many of the
coolies who were with the Expedition in 1921 had volunteered
to rejoin this year. But a stronger corps and more carefully

APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 315

selected men were needed. The Maharaja of NejDal has
been asked to allow some of the most famous Gurkha
mountain climbers to join the Expedition, and the
Government of India has been asked to put two or three
non-commissioned Gurkha officers at the service of General
Bruce, to assist him generally in looking after the coolies,
and seeing that they were properly fed and paid, and that
they behaved themselves properly.

The members of last year's Expedition on their return
were freely and fully consulted as to equipment and
provisioning of this year's party ; the experience gained
last year has been therefore made use of in every way possible.
Suggestions for the improvement of the Mummery-Meade
tents have been adopted. Better clothing has been provided
for the coohes. General Bruce has purchased leather coats,
waistcoats, socks, jerseys and boots from the equipment
provided for our troops in North Russia during the war,
which wiU be admirably suited for the majority of the coolies,
whilst for the few chosen for high climbing on Mount Everest
itself, clothing precisely similar to that worn by the British
climbers has been provided.

Captain Farrar and the equipment committee have
provided a most varied and ample supply of provisions which
was despatched to India in January. The Primus-stoves
have been overhauled and retested by Captain Finch.

Colonel Jack and Mr. Hinks have carefully examined all
the instruments brought back. The aneroids have been
retested, and all broken instruments replaced.

The photographic outfit has been considerably enlarged,
including a cinematograph instrument. The question of
supplying oxygen has been most thoroughly gone into. All
flyers in aeroplanes at high altitudes find oxygen absolutely
necessary. In mountam climbing, however, the almost
insuperable difficulty is the weight of the apparatus supplying
the oxygen. As far as possible, this weight has been reduced
to a minimum. A large number of cyhnders, the lightest
and smallest obtainable, have been sent out full of compressed

316 MOUNT EVEREST

oxygen, and it is hoped that they will be capable of being
used by the party that will attempt to climb to the summit
of Mount Everest. If the climbers are capable of carrying
them, and so getting a continuous supply of oxygen during
the whole of the climb, there is little doubt that climbing
up to 29,000 feet is possible. In aeroplanes considerably
higher altitudes have been reached with the help of oxygen.
Moreover, there is this fact in favour of the climbers on Mount
Everest, they will be acclimatised to altitudes of 20,000 feet,
whilst anyone in an aeroplane is not so acclimatised, having
risen from sea-level. The climbers will have to accommodate
themselves only to an increased height of 9,000 feet, whilst
those in an aeroplane have to suffer a diminution in pressure
equivalent to 29,000 feet.

Finally, arrangements have been made with the Press
for the publication of telegrams and photographs from
the Expedition. Full information of the progress of the
Expedition will therefore be available for the public, and it
will be possible to follow the climbing party, after they leave
the base camp, which wiU be somewhere near Chobuk, as they
ascend the East Rongbuk Glacier to the advanced base under
the North col. Afterwards aU the preliminary arrangements
will be reported, and finally there wiU be an account of the
great attempt to reach the summit.

The Expedition wiU be starting nearly two months earHer
than in 1921. The weather in May and June, before the
monsoon breaks in July, apparently is more or less settled,
and so the most must be made of it. In 1921 from the end
of July till September high climbing was impossible. It is
therefore obvious that a determined attempt to climb Mount
Everest should be made before the monsoon sets in.

The ascent from the North col, Changa La, 23,000 feet,
to the summit of Mount Everest, 29,000 feet, is only 6,000
feet, and the distance to traverse is about 2 miles. As far
as can be judged from the numerous photographs of Mount
Everest, the climbing is straightforward with no insurmount-
able difTiculties in the form of steep rock precipices. There

APPRECIATION OF THE RECONNAISSANCE 317

wiU be no glaciers overhanging the route which might send
down avalanches, and no excessively steep ice-slopes.

But the final ascent will test the endurance of the climbers
to the utmost. Many people have found the last 1,000 feet
of Mont Blanc more than they could accomplish. The last
1,000 feet of Mount Everest wiU only be conquered by men
whose physique is perfect, and who are trained and
acclimatised to the last possible limit, and who have the
determination to struggle on when every fibre of their body
is calling out — Hold ! enough !

The struggle will be a great one, but it will be worth the
while. To do some new thing beyond anything that has
been previously accomplished, and not to be dominated by
his environment, has made man what he is, and has raised
him above the beasts. He always has been seeking new
worlds to conquer. He has penetrated into the forbidding
ice-worlds at the two poles, and many are the secrets he has
wrested from Nature. There remains yet the highest spot
on the world's surface. No doubt he will win there also,
and in the winning will add one more victory over the guarded
secrets of things as they are.

APPENDIX I

THE SURVEY
By Major H. T. MORSHEAD, D.S.O.

The personnel selected to form the Survey Detachment under my
charge were as follows : Brevet-Major E. 0. Wheeler, M.C, R.E.,
Mr. Lalbir Singh Thapa, Surveyors Gujjar Singh and Turubaz Khan,
Photographer Abdul Jalil Khan, sixteen khalasis, etc.

The tasks allotted to the detachment were : —

(1) A general survey of the whole unmapped area covered by the
Expedition, on a scale of 1 inch to 4 miles.

(2) A detailed survey of the immediate environs of Mount Everest
on the scale of 1 inch to 1 mile.

(3) A complete revision of the existing J-inch map of Sikkim.
With the exception of a few rough notes and sketches by early

travellers and missionaries in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
oiu* first knowledge of the Southern portion of the Tibetan province
of Tsang dated from the epoch of the Survey of India by trained native
explorers in the middle of the nineteenth century. Thus, much of
the area visited by the Expedition in 1921 was traversed by the
explorer Hari Ram during the course of his two journeys in 1871-2
and 1885 respectively. At that time, however, foreign surveyors
were not regarded with favour in Tibet ; work could only be carried
on surreptitiously, and the resulting map merely consisted of a small-
scale route traverse which gave no indication of the surface features
beyond the explorer's actual route.

The first rigorous survey undertaken in the neighbourhood was
that carried out by Captain C. H. D. Ryder, R.E. (now Colonel Ryder,
C.I.E., D.S.O., Surveyor-General of India), diu-ing the Tibet Mission
of 1903-1904, During the stay of the IMission at Kampa, the |-inch
survey was carried as far West as longitude 88° ; wliile, on the
subsequent return march up the Tsangpo Valley, surveys were
extended as far as the Southern watershed of the great river — the
so-called Ladak Range — in latitude 29° approximately,

319

320 MOUNT EVEREST

West of longitude 88° there thus remained a stretch of unsurveyed
country some 14,000 square miles in area, between the Ladak Range
on the North and the Great Himalaya Range on the South — the
latter forming the Northern frontier of Nepal. The Mount Everest
Expedition provided an opportunity of making good the whole of this
area, with the exception of some 2,000 square miles at the extreme
Western end, into which, in view of the restrictions of the Indian
Foreign Department, I did not feel justified in penetrating.

Fortunately, Colonel Bury's plans contemplated an outward
Northerly journey via Shekar and Tingri to the Western flanks of
Mount Everest, whence the reconnaissance of the mountain was to
be carried out from West to East, parallel to the Northern frontier
of Nepal. This rendered feasible the mapping of the whole unsurveyed
area between the Southern watershed of the Tsangpo and the Great
Himalaya Range, as far West as longitude 85° 30', without in any
way infringing the Foreign Department's orders and restrictions.

For the purpose of the detailed survey of the Mount Everest regions,
it was arranged for my Assistant, Major Wheeler, to make a thorough
test of the Canadian pattern of photo-survey apparatus, of which he
had had previous experience in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. This
method of survey, which had not hitherto been employed in India,
is particularly adapted for use in high mountain regions. Fortunately,
the experimental outfit, which had recently been ordered from England,
was delivered just in time to accompany the Expedition. Wheeler's
account of his season's work wiU be found in Appendix 11.

With a view to carrying out the revision survey of Sikkim while
awaiting the arrival of the members of the Expedition from England,
the Survey Detachment was authorised to assemble at Darjeeling
early in April, six weeks before the date fixed for the start of the
Expedition. In spite of an unusually wet and cloudy spring, the three
surveyors made such good use of their time that 2,500 square miles
of country were completed before the advance of the Expedition
necessitated the temporary abandonment of this work.

After completing the necessary preliminaries with Colonel Bury,
I myself left Darjeeling on May 13, intending to rejoin the remainder
of the Expedition in Sikkim. Continuous rain, however, rendered
the latter task impossible ; the Sikkim roads were, moreover, blocked
in several places by severe landslips, so that I was only with difiiculty
able to reach Kampa by the 28th. It transpired, however, that there
was no cause for hurry, since the main body of the Expedition,
travelling via the Chumbi Valley, had encountered greater difficulties

THE SURVEY 321

than mine, and did not arrive at Kampa until June 5, While awaiting
their arrival, I filled in the time by occupying and re-observing from
Colonel Ryder's old triangulation stations of 1903, overlooking the
Kampa Plain.

I had received no news whatever of the Expedition or of the outside
world since leaving Darjeeling three-and-a-half weeks previously.
Consequently the death of my old friend Dr. Kellas on the very
day of their arrival at Kampa came to me as a very severe
shock.

The Sikkim revision-survey having been so much hampered by
bad weather, I decided to take only two of the three surveyors with
the Expedition into Tibet, leaving Surveyor Turabaz Khan to complete
the comparatively dry areas of Northern Sikkim before the arrival
of the monsoon. This he succeeded in doing at the cost of considerable
personal discomfort, returning to Darjeeling in July.

It was not until we reached the summit of the Tinki Pass on
June 11 that we found ourselves for the first time looking into
unsurveyed country. From here onwards as far as Tingri the survey
was kept up by Lalbir Singh, whose unflagging energy alone enabled
him to keep pace with the long marches of the Expedition. Each
morning he was away with his plane-table and squad of coolies long
before our breakfast was served, seldom reaching camp before nightfall.
The gathering clouds and other ominous signs of a rapidly approaching
monsoon, however, forbade any respite.

On arrival at Tingri, after spending a week in fruitless efforts to
observe the triangulated peaks of the main Himalayan Range through
the dense monsoon clouds which were daily piling up more and more
thickly from the South, I departed on June 26 with Surveyor Gujjar
Singh on a short trip to explore and map the upper valley of the
Bhong Chu.

Oiu" first march led across the wide Tingri Plain, past the hot
spring village of Tsamda, to the hamlet of Dokcho, at the Southern
extremity of the Sutso Plain. This plain is covered with the ruins
of numerous villages and watch-towers, the haunt of countless rock-
pigeons. They are all of loftier and more substantial construction
than the miserable hovels which form the scattered hamlets of to-day —
indicating, apparently, the former presence of a large and warlike
population. It is impossible even to hazard a guess at the age of
these ruins, which may have preserved their present state for generations
in the comparatively arid climate of Tibet. Many of the towers are
60 feet or more in height ; roofs and floors have aU disappeared, but

M.E. Y

322 MOUNT EVEREST

the massive mud walls in many instances still bear the marks of the
wooden shuttering used in their erection. This method of construction
is unknown, I believe, in Tibet at the present day.

The next day's march, skirting the Western edge of the plain,
brought us to the village of Phuri, where the river flows in a flat-
bottomed, cultivated valley, between bare brown hills. On the 28th
we camped at Menkhap-to, the highest village in the valley. The
headman, a sort of local " warden of the marches," refused to see
me and shut himself up in his house, guarding his door with three
huge mastiffs who effectively frustrated the efforts of my messengers
to establish communications. Evidently he feared the subsequent
results to himself of harbouring strangers. The remaining villagers
were quite friendly, however, and supplied all my requirements. One
man, the owner of a gun, surprised me by a request for 12-bore cartridges
just after I had greatly shocked his neighbour's Buddhist susceptibilities
by killing a butterfly for my collection ! Much snow is reported to
fall at Menkhap-to, which is deserted during the winter months, when
the inhabitants descend to Menkhap-me (" lower Menkhap ") and
the Sutso Plain.

Above Menkhap-to the road leaves the main valley and proceeds
Westwards over a spur known as the Lungchen La (17,700 feet).
This spur commands an extensive view across the wide, uninhabited
Pekhu Plain, with its three lakes, as far as the snowy range running
North-west from the summit of Gosainthan. On a fine day, the
whole panorama can be sketched in from a couple of fixings on either
side of the pass ; unfortunately, at the time of our arrival bad weather
had set in, and the whole snow-range was hidden in cloud. I had
therefore to leave Gujjar Singh camped near the summit of the pass
to await a fine day for the completion of his surveys, and myself returned
at the end of the month to Tingri, where I rejoined Mr. WoUaston,
who had been detained at headquarters by an outbreak of enteric
fever amongst the Expedition servants.

Wild game is plentiful in the Upper Bhong Valley. I shot numerous
hares, some ram-chakor and a bar-headed goose dming the trip ;
while Gujjar Singh caught a young, week-old barhal lamb on the
summit of the Lungchen Pass, which, however, died after three weeks
in captivity. Gazelle are common on the Sutso Plain.

By the end of June, Lalbir Singh had finished the inking of his
previous surveys, and was ready for fresh work. Accordingly, after
spending a couple of days in examining his board, and checking the
spelling of his village names with the aid of the local Tibetan officials,

THE SURVEY 323

I despatched him on a lengthy programme of work in Pharuk and
Kharta. It was three months before I saw him again.

About this time a messenger arrived from the Dzongpen of Nyenyam,
inviting us to visit his district, which lay four marches to the South-
west, in the valley of the Po Chu or Bhotia Kosi R. Although Nyenyara
was not one of the districts specifically mentioned in our passport,
Wollaston and I decided, with the concurrence of Colonel Bury, to
avail ourselves of the opportunity of visiting this little-known area.

Leaving Tingri on July 13, with the interpreter Gyaldzan Kazi
and Surveyor Gujjar Singh, who had now returned after completing
his work on the Lungchen Pass, we camped that evening at Langkor,
a small village at the Western edge of the Tingri Plain. A cantilever
bridge which spans the Gya Chu opposite the village had been carried
away by floods shortly before our arrival, and the whole population
of the hamlet, male and female, were busily engaged in its recon-
struction, working in relays to the accompaniment of prolonged
and vigorous blasts on a " conch " which a monk was diligently
blowing in order — as it was explained to us — to avert further rainfall
until the bridge should be completed. His efforts were rewarded
with tolerable success, as the rain held off all day in spite of the
threatening storm-clouds which loomed up from the South-west.

The most interesting feature of Langkor is an ancient temple,
an appanage of the great Drophung monastery of Lhasa. This
building, which is said to be over 1,000 years old, contains a sacred
stone alleged to have been hurled across the Himalayan Range from
India, and to have pitched in the Tingri Plains. The name Tingri
is said to be derived from the noise (" ting ") made by the falling
stone. The stone is carefully preserved inside a wooden box, which
is opened with much ceremony on the first day of the Tibetan new
year. The temple, which is managed by a committee of fifteen civilian
monks (nyakchang), also contains a library of 4,400 books, and an
image of the Indian saint Tamba Sanye wliich is popularly believed
to have grown by itself from the ground in situ.

Crossing the Tang La (17,980 feet) in a driving snowstorm, a long
march of 22 miles brought us next day to the bleak village of Tulung,
in the upper valley of the Po Chu. As we descended the Western
side of the pass the snow-clouds gradually dispersed, disclosing glimpses
of the magnificent twin summits of Gosainthan (26,290 feet), 30 miles
to the West. Several of our coolies succumbed to mountain sickness
on the pass, with the result that my bedding and the kitchen box
only reached camp at 9 p.m.

324 MOUNT EVEREST

On July 15 oiir road lay for 8 miles along the flat valley of the
Po Chu ; the river then turns sharply Southwards, passing for 3
miles through a gorge of granite and schist. Bushes of wUd currant,
gooseberry, berberis and dog-rose here begin to appear, and around
the village of Targyeling, where we camped, were smihng fields of
mustard and buckwheat, in addition to the usual Tibetan crops of
barley and dwarf pea. After a month spent in the bleak Tibetan
uplands, it was a relief to pitch our tents in a homely green field,
alongside a rippling brook lined with familiar ranunculus, cow parsley,
forget-me-not, and a singularly beautiful pale mauve cranesbill,
and to feast our eyes on the glorious purple of the wild thyme which
clothed the hillsides in great patches of colour.

The next day, still following the course of the Po Chu, we reached
Nyenyam, a large and very insanitary village which is known under
the name of Kuti by the Nepalis who constitute the majority of its
inhabitants. These Nepali traders (Newars) have their own Hindu
temple in the village. There is also a Nepalese chauki (court-house)
with a haqim (magistrate) invested with summary powers of juris-
diction over Nepali subjects ; he is specially charged with the
settlement of trade disputes, and with the encouragement of Tibeto-
Nepalese trade and commerce.

As is customary in all important districts of Tibet, there are here
two Dzongpens, who by a polite fiction are known as " Eastern "
and " Western " (Dzongshar and Dzongnup) respectively. Actually,
the functions of the two Dzongpens are identical ; the raison d'etre
of the double regime being an attempt to protect the peasants from
extortion by the device of providing two administrators, who, in
theory at least, act as a check upon each other's peculations. At
the time of our arrival, those two worthies were so busy preparing
a joint picnic that we had considerable difficulty in getting their
attention.

I spent three days in exploring the neighbourhood of Nyenyam,
while WoUaston was engaged in his botanical and zoological pursuits.
Gujjar Singh, with the plane-table, was detained by bad weather
higher up the valley. Below Nyenyam the river enters a very deep,
narrow gorge ; pines and other forest trees begin to appear. The
road, which here becomes impassable for animals, crosses the river
four times in 6 miles by cantilever bridges before reaching the village
of Choksum, but I could find no trtce of the portion described by
explorer Hari Ram in 1871 as consisting of slabs of stone 9 to 18 inches
wide supported on iron pegs let into the vertical face of the rock at

THE SURVEY 325

a height of 1,500 feet above the river. At Choksum (10,500 feet)
the river falls at an average rate of 500 feet per mile. The Nepal
frontier is crossed near Dram village, some 10 miles further down
stream, but owing to the vile state of the weather, which rendered
even the roughest attempts at surveying impossible, I abandoned
all idea of reaching the spot.

On July 20 we retraced our steps 9 miles up the vaUey to Tashishong,
where we found Dr. Heron encamped, together with Gujjar Singh,
whose work had been hung up for a week by continued cloud and
rainfall. Heron returned Northwards next day, while we followed
a rough easterly track leading over the Lapche Range to the village
of the same name in the valley of the Kang Chu. The weather on
this day was atrocious, and our last pretence of accurate surveying
broke down. We were unable to reach Lapche village by dusk,
and spent a somewhat cheerless night on boulders in drenching
rain at 14,600 feet, with no fuel except a few green twigs of dwarf
rhododendron.

Lapche (La-Rimpoche, "precious hill") is sacred as the home
and birthplace of Jetsun IVIila Repa, a wandering lama and saint who
lived in Southern Tibet in the eleventh century, and who taught by
parables and songs, some of which have considerable literary merit.
The two principal works ascribed to him are an autobiography, or
namtar, and a collection of tracts called Labum, or the " myriad
songs." They are stiU among the most popular books in Tibet.*
His hermit-cell still remains under a rock on the hillside, and his
memory is preserved by an ancient temple and monastery, the resort
of numerous pUgrims, alongside which we pitched our tents.

Lapche village is situated on a spur overlooking the junction of
two branches of the Kang stream — the latter being a tributary of
the Rongshar River, which, in turn, joins the Bhotia Kosi River in
Nepal. The extreme dampness of the local climate is indicated by
the trailing streamers of lichen which festoon the trees, and by the
pent roofs of the buildings. The village contains some ten or twelve
houses, of which half are occupied by Tibetans and haK by Nepalese
subjects (Sharpas) — each community having its own headman. The
inhabitants were very friendly and pleasant, and gave us a good deal
of information. The village is deserted during the winter months,
when the whole population migrates across the border into Nepal.
The Tibetans pay no taxes to Nepal during their half-yearly sojourn

♦ Journey to Lhasa and Central Tibet, by S. C. Dass, C.I.'E., page 205,
footnote by Hon. W. W. RockhiJl.

326 MOUNT EVEREST

in the lower valley ; conversely, the Nepalis during then* summer
residence in Lapclie are not subject to Tibetan taxation or to the
imposition of ulag (forced labour). The Tibetans of Lapche pay
their taxes in the form of butter direct to the Lapche monastery,
the head lama, or abbot, of which resides at Phuto Gompa near
Nyenyam. The Nepal frontier is some 10 miles below Lapche, opposite
the snow-peak of Karro Pumri. Katmandu can be reached in eight
days, but the track is bad and very little trade passes this way.

Transport arrangements necessitated a day's halt at Lapche,
which was fortunately enlivened by the timely arrival of a large
parcel of letters and newspapers, which Colonel Bury had thought-
fully sent after us from Tingri — almost the last news of the outside
world which we were to receive for over two months.

From Lapche we proceeded to the Rongshar Valley, crossing
the Kangchen and Kangchung ("big snow" and "little snow")
passes. Descending the hill to Trintang village, where we camped
on July 25, the clouds lifted momentarily, disclosing an amazing
view of the superb snow summit of Gaurisankar towering magnificently
above us just across the valley. This mountain, which is called by
the Tibetans Chomo Tsering, or Trashi Tsering, is the westernmost
of a group of five very sacred peaks known collectively as Tsering
Tse-nga ("Tsering five peaks"). Unfortunately, owing to constant
clouds, I was unable to identify with certainty the remaining four
peaks of Tingki Shalzang, Miyo Lobzang, Chopen Drinzang and
Tekar Drozang. Owing to the sacred nature of the Rongshar Valley,
the slaughtering of animals is strictly forbidden ; the large flocks
and herds of the villagers are only sold for slaughter in the adjoining
districts of Tingri and Nepal, and we were only able to buy a sheep
on promising not to kill it until after quitting the valley.

Trintang vOlage occupies a plateau 1,750 feet above the level
of the river ; 1,400 feet below is the village of Tropde, to which the
Trintang residents all descend in winter. Rongshar Dzong, which
is situated in the lower village, has no importance ; at the time of
our visit the Dzongpen had gone to his home on leave of absence,
leaving his affairs in the hands of a steward.

A day's halt being necessary in order to collect transport, I took
the opportunity of descending the Rongshar Valley as far as the Nepal
frontier, while Gujjar Singh endeavoured, without much success,
to pick up the threads of his survey by identifying the snowy peaks
which occasionally afforded brief glimpses through rifts in the clouds.
The Rongshar River drops 1,400 feet in 7 miles between Tropde and

THE SURVEY 327

the Nepal frontier, which is crossed at an altitude of roughly 9,000
feet.

On July 27 we marched 20 miles up the Rongshar Valley to the
village of Tazang (Takpa-Santsam, "limit of birch trees"), which,
as its name implies, is situated at the extreme upper limit of the forest
zone. On the way we passed the village and monastery of Chuphar,
whence a track leads South-east over the difficult snow-pass of
Menlung {" vale of medicinal herbs ") to the villages of Rowaling
and Tangpa in the Kangphu Valley of Nepal.

Tazang had already been visited by Colonel Bury, a month
previously. The local headman was too drunk, on the evening of
our arrival, to send out the necessary messages summoning the village
transport -yaks from their grazing grounds. In consequence, our
baggage was only got under weigh at 11 a.m. next morning, and we
were compelled to pitch our tents at a grazing camp (16,500 feet)
after only covering 9 miles. The weather showed signs of improve-
ment in proportion as we receded from the Himalayan gorges, but
dense banks of cloud still obscured all the hill-tops. An easy march
over the Phuse La (17,850 feet) brought us on the 29th to the bleak
village of Kyetrak, situated at the foot of the great Kyetrak Glacier,
on the extreme Southern edge of the Tingri plain — an area which we
had already surveyed six weeks previously.

From Kyetrak we proceeded via the Lamna La to Chobuk, thence
following the tracks of the Expedition headquarters which Colonel
Bury had just transferred from Tingri to Kharta in the lower Bhong
Chu Valley. On reaching headquarters on August 2, we found
Colonel Bury in sole occupation — Mallory and Bullock having left
that very morning on a reconnaissance of the Eastern approaches
to Mount Everest,

The weather during the whole of August was such as to render
out-of-door survey operations impossible. Gujjar Singh was occupied
during the month in adjusting and inking his surveys, while I filled
in several days in making tracings of all work so far completed, after
which, for the remainder of the season, I joined the mountaineers,
whose doings are recorded elsewhere in this book.

On the return journey in October I despatched Gujjar Singh from
Gyangkar Nangpa to complete the remaining portions of the Sikkim
revision-survey ; at the same spot I picked up Lalbir Singh, who,
after completing his survey of the Pharuk and Kharta areas, had
crossed the Bhong Chu below Lungdo and worked his way back via
Tashirakar and Sar. Travelling via Kampa and Lachen Valley,

328 MOUNT EVEREST

we reached Darjeeling on October 16. Tracings of the new survey
were hastily finished and sent to press, with the result that a complete
preliminary J-inch map in six colours was published before the last
members of the Expedition had sailed for England. A |-inch
preliminary sketch-map of the environs of Mount Everest was also
prepared by Major Wheeler at the same time for the use of the moun-
taineers in discussing the details of their next year's climb.

The out-turn of work during the Expedition was as follows : —
^-inch revision survey ..... 4,000 square miles
J-inch original survey ..... 12,000 square miles
Detail photo-survey (environs of Mount Everest) 600 square miles

The surveyors all worked splendidly under difficult and trying
conditions. Major Wheeler had probably the hardest time of any
member of the Expedition, and his success in achieving single-handed
the mapping of 600 square miles of some of the most mountainous
country in the world is sufficient proof of his determination and grit.
It is difficult for those who have not actually had the experience to
conceive the degree of mental and physical discomfort which results
to the surveyor from prolonged camping at high altitudes during
the monsoon, waiting for the fine day which never comes. Such
was our fate for four months during the Expedition of 1921, yet on
looking back one feels that the results were weU worth while. The
discomforts soon fade from recollection ; the pleasures alone remain
in one's memory, and there is not one of us but would gladly repeat
our season's experiences, if so required.

APPENDIX II

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY
By Major E. O. WHEELER, M.C.

I had purchased a set of photo-topographical surveying instruments
of the Canadian pattern, on behalf of the Survey of India, while on
leave in 1920. A trial of this method of surveying mountainous
country was to be carried out in Garhwal in 1921 ; but when Survey
of India officers were asked for to accompany the Mount Everest
Expedition, I was detailed to carry out the trial there. Possibly a
word of explanation of the method used may not be amiss.

The " Canadian " method — if I may caU it so ; for although it
was invented and has been used elsewhere, it has been far more
extensively applied in Canada than in any other part of the world —
may be briefly described as " plane-tabling by photography." It
requires, equally with the plane-table, an accurate framework, on
which to base the detailed survey ; and simply substitutes a small
(3-inch vernier) theodolite and camera for the sight-rule and
plane-table. Stations are fixed and photographs oriented by means
of the theodolite ; the photographs, which are taken so as to be as
nearly as possible true perspectives, represent the country as it would
be seen by the plane-tabler, and detail on them may be fixed by
intersections or sketched in by eye in exactly the same way as on the
plane-table.

Angles are read and photographs taken in the field ; and, if
considered necessary to test exposures or protect photographic plates
from deterioration due to climatic conditions, development of plates
is also carried out there. Otherwise, the map is made wholly in the
office, using either contact prints or enlargements, from the negatives
taken in the field. The latter are usually preferable. The main
advantages at high altitudes over the plane-table are, that a much
larger area can be covered in a given time in the field, that the
instruments are more portable for difficult climbing, that there is
no necessity to do accurate drawing with numbed fingers, and that

329

330 MOUNT EVEREST

the draughtsman may see the country from several points of view
at one time. On the other hand, more equipment is necessary, and
— a great disadvantage sometimes, as in this case — the map does not
come into being as one goes along.

After carrying out various preliminary adjustments and tests
at the office of the Trigonometrical Survey at Dehra Dun, I reached
Darjeeling on April 30, and Tingri on June 19, travelling with
Expedition Headquarters via Phari Dzong.

En route Tingri, we had caught glimpses of Everest and the
neighbouring peaks ; so that by the time we arrived there, I was
able, with the help of the existing maps and what local information
we had obtained, to decide on the area I would attempt to survey.
I say " attempt," for little was really known then about the geography,
and still less about the weather conditions throughout the summer.
As it turned out in the end, the area had to be much curtailed, and
certain parts surveyed in considerably less detail than I should have
liked : almost wholly on account of the weather. Although it was
often fairly clear at 6 a.m. or so, photographs taken before 8,
particularly at the latter end of the season, were of little use for
surveying purposes.

However, at the outset, I had hoped to map, on the scale of 1 inch
= 1 mile, the whole area between the Arun Gorge on the East and
the Ra Chu on the West : and from the Nepal-Tibet boundary
Northwards for some 20 miles ; i.e. to the point where the various
streams, flowing in a Northerly direction from the high boundary
ridge, issue from the mountains proper into the more rolling foot-hills
on the Southern outskirts of the Tibetan Plateau. This area includes
Mount Everest itself near the centre of its Southern side, Makalu and
Pk. 25,413 to the South-east, Pks. 23,800 (Khartaphu), 23,420, and
23,080 to the North-east and North, and Pks. 25,990 (Gyachung
Kang), 25,202, 25,909 and 26,867 (Cho Oyu) to the North-west ; and
comprises some 1,000 square miles of country : a suitable season's work,
given reasonably fine weather. This unfortunately we did not get.

On June 24, the day after Messrs. Mallory and Bullock had started
for the Rongbuk Valley, Dr. Heron and I marched South across the
plain to the village of Sharto, en route Kyetrak, in the Ra Chu Valley,
where I intended to establish my base camp while surveying the
Kyetrak Glacier and West face of the Cho Oyu — Gyachung Kang
group. The next day we moved on to Kyetrak, 1 mile below the
snout of the glacier, and made camp there. This bleak village and
the route to it and over the Phiise La have already been described.

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 331

June 26 was fine, so after crossing the Ra Chu on local ponies,
ourselves and our ice-axes and rucksacks perched on Tibetan saddles
— a cold and uncomfortable proceeding in the early morning — we
ascended the 18,000-foot hill immediately West of the village. Up
to 1 p.m. we had excellent views across and up the Kyetrak Valley ;
but only a glimpse of Gauri Sankar (Chomo Tsering) to the South-west,
where heavy clouds soon began to roll up. Cho Oyu and Pk. 25,909
and their spurs unfortunately cut out all distant views to the South-
east, as they did everywhere in the upper part of this valley ; so that
my first view of Everest was from Tingri a month later. Next day,
we started shortly after daylight for a spur on the East side of the
valley ; unfortunately — and this happened in the case of almost
every peak I started for until mid-September — clouds began to roll
up, and we were forced to stop to take the photographs before we
had reached a really good view-point.

Colonel Bury arrived at Kyetrak shortly after we got back to
camp. On the 28th he and Heron started off early for a flying visit
to the Kyetrak Glacier and Nangba La ; I started later, after getting
kit together, for a camp half-way up the glacier, and about 6 miles
from Kyetrak. About 2 p.m. I found a comparatively dry spot on
shale at 18,000 feet, and pitched my tents there, the last of the coolies
arriving only at 6 p.m. The place was bleak enough, but was as far
as I could get that day, and seemed suitable for two climbs — one on
either side of the glacier.

My equipment consisted of the camera, theodolite, and a small
plane-table — to help in identifying triangulated points — by way of
instruments, which were carried by three coolies who remained wdth
me. Ten other coolies slept at the base camp at Kyetrak, and carried
stores up to me or moved the camp, as required ; the camp consisted
of a Whymper tent for the three coolies and a Meade for myself ;
bedding, food, a Primus stove and tin of kerosene for my own cooking,
and yak dung fuel for the coolies. My servant remained at the base
camp and sent up cooked meat and vegetables ; otherwise I cooked
for myself.

June 29 and 30 were useless days ; but on July 1 the weather
cleared a bit, and after crossing the glacier, I went up a sharp rock
shoulder of Cho Rapzang. The peak was mainly loose granite blocks
at a steep angle, so that progress was slow : it was noon when I reached
the top (about 19,500 feet), and as I did so the clouds settled dowTi,
and it began to snow. However, at 4 p.m. it cleared sufficiently for
some work to be done ; after that we came down as quickly as possible

332 MOUNT EVEREST

in another blinding snowstorm, and reached camp just after dark ;
I for one very tired. I found the coolies exceedingly slow in coming
down the loose blocks, I think because their balance was bad — they
had to use their hands far more than I did.

I had a good view of the glacier from here : the East side is very
steep and broken, with several tributary glaciers flowing down from
Cho Oyu and Pk. 25,909, and from a 23,000-foot Peak (not triangulated)
to the North of the latter. The West side, except for Cho Rapzang,
round which the glacier flows, is a snowfield falling more or less gently
from a low ridge running from the pass to the West of Cho Rapzang.
The glacier itself is like many others in this region, moraine covered
for 3 or 4 miles above its snout, " pinnacled " for another mile, and
finally practically flat. But this flat portion gives by no means good
going ; when frozen it is very irregular and trying to walk over ; and
when thawed, is slushy and water soaked. There are two large water
channels in the ice which are unpleasant to cross ; these are from
10 to 15 feet wide and 20 feet deep, and carry a large volume of water
in the afternoon. Crossing without a rope is distinctly dangerous,
for although one can find places easy enough to jump, a slip would
be certain death, for once in the channel it would be quite impossible
to get out, or even to stop oneself on its smooth ice floor and sides.

Cloudy weather then set in ; but on the 3rd I got a few
photographs from a shoulder near by, and moved camp 2 or 3 miles
farther up the glacier (at about 18,500 feet). I was in this camp for
nine days and only succeeded in taking two low stations, one on either
side of the glacier and each about 1| miles from the pass (Nangba
La) to Nepal ; but the valley on the South side, leading down to
Kliungphu, turns sharply to the East just below the pass, and little
could be seen of the Nepalese side. Each of these stations I went up
twice — to wait all day long the first time, in each case, for weather
which never came. To reach the station on the East side of the
glacier I had the only comparatively difficult rock climbing which I
met with during the course of the Expedition ; and on the way down
watched my theodolite coolie, whom I had left behind exhausted in
the morning, tumble off a steep rock arete, theodolite and all ;
fortunately he jammed in a crack a few feet below, and was unhurt.
During the day he had started up after us on his own, and had lost
his way in the clouds.

On July 12 — another wet day — I moved camp some distance
down the main glacier and up a tributary flowing from Pk. 25,909 and
Cho Oyu, and next day ascended a shoulder whence a good view into

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 333

the cirque below these two peaks was obtained — or should have been
obtained ! But again I sat till dusk and saw little or nothing. Early
the following day, however, it was fairly clear, so I got my photographs
and then moved camp back to the base at Kyetrak,

The next three days were spent in moving my base camp to the
bridge across the Ra Chu, 6 miles below Kyetrak ; taking a light
camp up to about 18,000 feet on the prominent hill immediately
East of the bridge, climbing the latter, sitting through the usual
storms without doing any work, and returning to the bridge. Time
was getting on, and the weather was still bad, so I then decided to
leave my camp at the bridge and move into Headquarters myself
to get developing, etc., up to date, and have a short rest. I walked
into Tingri, with two coolies, on July 18, and found Colonel Bury
there alone : and the Headquarters house felt very comfortable
indeed after a Meade tent, in spite of nightly pilgrimages from one
dry spot to another, as the roof leaked !

Five busy days were spent at Tingri developing and printing ;
and as the weather showed little sign of improvement, I decided to
go on with Headquarters to Chobuk, in the Rongbuk Valley and work
on that side, so as to make sure of completing the most important
part, in the vicinity of Everest, and return to the Kyetrak Valley if
there should be time. So on the 24th Colonel Bury and I left Tingri
and reached Chobuk on the 25th, where we met Mallory and Bullock,
just in from their reconnaissance of the North and North-west sides
of Everest. A talk with them gave me some idea of the country,
and the view from an 18,000-foot hill above Chobuk enabled me to
make a plan of campaign : far more extensive, as always, than the
weather eventually allowed.

Colonel Bury, Mallory and Bullock had gone on to Kharta on July
26 ; on the 27th I moved up the right bank of the Rongbuk Valley
some 10 miles, to the monastery, above which I took a 20,000-foot
tation the next day. The weather was dreadful, but at 6 p.m. I
got a round of photographs, which really turned out very well
considering the time of day at which they were taken : it took me
four and a half hours to get up this peak — fresh snow and scree —
and although I had no glissades, only half an hour to come down.

On the 27th I moved camp to a grassy hollow near the snout of
the glacier — Mallory and Bullock's base — and next day occupied
another hill overlooking the main glacier and valley, and looking up
the side valley on the East, which joins the Dzakar Chu just below
the glacier snout. The next three days were spent in establishing

334 MOUNT EVEREST

a light camp on the left bank of the East branch of the Rongbuk
Glacier, about 3 miles from its snout, and taking a station on its left
bank to overlook both the East and main glaciers.

The Rongbuk Glacier is made up of two large branches, one flowing
from the snow basin immediately below the great Korth wall of
Everest, and the other, the "West Rongbuk " which joins the main
Btream about 4 miles above the snout of the glacier, flowing East
in the basin between the high North-west ridge of Everest and the
South-east slopes of Pk. 25,990 (Gyachung Kang). At onetime there
was a third branch, the *' East Rongbuk," which must have also
joined the main stream, but this has receded until its snout is now
a mile or more East of the main glacier, and only its torrent pours
into a large cave in the latter. The East Rongbuk itself consists of
two branches : one, the more southerly, flows from the great snow
basin (which we eventually crossed to reach the North Col) between
Everest, its North Peak and Col, and Pk. 23,800 (Khartaphu) ; and
the other, which joins the South branch about 2 miles from its snout,
from between Pks. 23,800 and 23,420. The former gives a 20,000-foot
pass, very steep on the South side, to the Kama Valley ; and the
latter, an easy pass of about the same height to the head of one branch
of the Kharta Valley.

I camped, at about 19,500 feet, on the moraine-covered glacier
opposite the junction of the northerly branch from Pks. 23,800 and
23,420. On the way up I followed the watercourse between the ice
of the Main Rongbuk Glacier and the scree and conglomerate slopes
to the East of it, as far as the mouth of the East Rongbuk stream
(3 miles), which gave good though boulder-strewn going. Thence a
short scramble up " cut-bank " on the right bank of the East Rongbuk
stream to the shelf of an old lateral moraine of that glacier, and along
the latter — excellent going — to near its snout. The stream is pretty
big in the evening ; but quite easy to cross — except for iced rocks —
in the early morning : and from there I followed up a series of lateral
moraines on the left bank, to my camp. It was not till I was coming
down that I discovered that the moraine-covered glacier itself — here
covered with shale instead of boulders and scree as in the case of the
main glacier — gave comfortable walking.

A little distance below my camp site, the moraine-covered snout
gives place to pinnacled ice, divided into three sections by two broad,
shaly medial moraines. Either of the latter would be very suitable
for a camp, and would give an excellent route to our 21,500-foot camp
below the Chang La. The latter might, I think, be reached

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 335

by this route in three days from the base camp at the snout of the
main glacier, camping the first night at 19,000 feet at the start of
the medial moraine, the second at 20,000 feet on the medial moraine
some 2 miles above the junction of the Northern and Southern
branches of the East Rongbuk, and the third night on snow at 21,500
feet below the North Col. The better moraine to ascend would require
reconnaissance ; for the pinnacles between them are difficult and slow
to cross. The valley sides are steep in the lower reaches of the glacier,
but more shaly and gentle on both branches, above their junction.

August 3 broke clear ; and I started up a likely looking peak
behind (South of) camp, which appeared to be on the ridge between
the East and main glaciers. I afterwards found that this was not
the case ; at the time I had to stop on a lower point as the clouds
settled down. From here I had a glimpse of a big peak — Makalu,
I thought — over the pass at the head of the southerly branch of the
glacier : and this gave me the idea that there must be a comparatively
low pass from here to the Kama Valley. But clouds prevented me
seeing more and studying the topography more carefully. There
were heavy snowstorms on August 4 and 5, but the 6th looked better,
and after four hours' most strenuous step -cutting up and slithering
down pinnacles, I crossed the glacier and ascended a 21,000-foot
station on the other side, from which I obtained good, if cloudy,
views of the East Rongbuk Glacier. Snow in the night and a dull
morning made me decide to abandon this area — I could get my camp
no farther up owing to having insufficient warm clothes to camp all
my coolies at this height — and I returned to the base camp, preparatory
to tackling the West side of the Rongbuk Valley. Six hours' easy
going took me to my base camp.

After two days' rest and office work, I crossed the glacier and put
a light camp at about 19,000 feet in a small hanging valley below
the " Finger," a black rock gendarme which is a very prominent
landmark on the left bank of the Rongbuk Valley. On August 11
it snowed heavily, and I found my bed, in which I spent the day,
very hard indeed — the camp being pitched on large boulders on
top of the moraine. On the 12th, 13th, and 14th, I started for the
" Finger," the first time by the ridge immediately above camp, which
gave some nice climbing with the rocks partly snow covered as they
were, and the other two days, by a much quicker but less interesting
route up soft snow and scree. Each day the clouds came down, and
although I waited till nearly dark at about 20,500 feet on the ridge, it was
not till the third day that I got a round of indifferent photographs.

336 MOUNT EVEREST

Time was getting on, so on the 15th I called my " Finger " station
" good enough " and moved camp up the left bank of the main glacier
to a point on the old lateral moraine, opposite the entrance of the
stream from the East Rongbuk ; and the next day round the corner
to the West, some distance up the West Rongbuk Glacier, and about
1,000 feet above it. En route, I tried to get some photographs from
the high moraine at the junction of the West with the main glacier ;
but again the weather defeated me, and I got into camp — another
uncomfortable one — soaked to the skin.

I was in this camp for five days ; most of them spent huddled
under rocks waiting for the clouds to lift. I had one beautiful
day, my only one in six weeks, and got some very nice photographs
of Mount Everest and its West ridge. It is surprising how a little
good weather and the feeling of having really done some work affects
one's spirits !

On August 211 moved back to my base camp at the glacier snout,
again trying for a station at the corner — and faihng. I had not
done nearly as much as I wanted to do ; but there seemed to be no
end to the bad weather, and only a month or a bit more remained in
which to map the whole of the East side of the mountain : and I
had heard from Colonel Bury that there would be a considerable
amount of work on that side. Originally, I had hoped not only to
return to the bridge over the Ra Chu to complete the work in the
Kyetrak Valley, but also to take several stations in the valleys running
North from the 23,000-foot group North of Everest. But again apart
from shortage of time, the weather made it out of the question, and I
went through to Kharta, via the Doya La, arriving there on August 27.

The change in scenery immediately one crosses the Doya La is
most marked, both as regards rock and vegetation. The former —
mostly gneiss — is far more rugged and interesting, and there is infinitely
more of the latter. The Headquarters camp at Kharta, in a little
poplar grove, was pleasant indeed after the bleak, uninteresting
Rongbuk Valley ; and I thoroughly enjoyed my five days there,
developing and printing ; busy days, but very different from lying
on one's back on the sharp boulders of the Rongbuk moraines.
Mallory, Bullock and Morshead were in Kharta when I arrived ;
Colonel Bury and Wollaston returned from their excursion to the
Popti La soon after, and Raeburn arrived on September 1. It was
a great treat to me to be able to " swap lies " with so many people,
after two months almost wholly alone !

On September 3 Morshead and I started up the Kharta Chu in

THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SURVEY 337

the wake of Mallory and Bullock, who had gone up to get the
*' bundobust " for the final fling going. As usual, bad weather dogged
my footsteps, and although the weather while I was in Kharta had
been glorious, Morshcad and I spent seven days in taking two very
indifferent stations in the lower part of the Kharta Valley, before
joining the remainder of the expedition at the " Advanced Base "
on September 11. A further eight days were spent there, waiting
for the weather ; but in that time I was able to get two very useful
stations, one on either side of the valley.

On September 19 1 moved up to "No. 1 Camp " with Mallory,
Bullock and Morshead ; and shared the fortunes of the rest of the
Expedition as far as Kampa Dzong on the way back to Darjeeling,
where Raeburn, Heron and I left Headquarters to return to Dar-
jeeling via Lachen and the Teesta Valley. I was delighted to get
into the " final push," and enjoyed the few days' change from surveying
to climbing, enormously ; except that I felt the cold very much in
my feet, and had it not been for Mallory's good offices — he rubbed
my feet for a solid hour after we came down from Chang La —
I feel sure that the result might have been much more serious than
the slight discomfort I afterwards experienced.

I took three stations in the neighbourhood of No. 1 Camp — one
on either side of the Kharta Glacier, and one at 22,300 feet on the
" Lhakpa La." This was on snow, with my instrument resting on,
and steadied by, bags of " tsampa " ; which proved to be a most
excellent substitute for rock !

On September 26 I crossed with Colonel Bury and Wollaston to
the Kama Valley ; unfortunately, we only had two clear days there,
and I had to leave it without covering as much ground as I should
have liked, though — as usual — I spent my days in snowstorms,
hoping for breaks in the clouds.

The return to Darjeeling via the SerpoLa, Lachen, and the Teesta
Valley, made a pleasant change from the Phari route ; but again
bad weather spoiled our views, and we saw nothing at all of
Kangchenjunga and its neighbours. Raeburn went in by the usual
road via Gangtok ; Heron and I followed the river — an excellent
route in spite of the prevalence of leeches — and reached Pashok on
October 19. Heron went on to Darjeeling, a further 18 miles, the
same day. I followed on the 20th,

I enjoyed the Expedition and my work with it, thoroughly ; but
in my opinion, Tibet, at any rate that portion of it in which we were,
is a place to have been, rather than one to go to !

M.E. Z

APPENDIX III

A NOTE ON THE GEOLOGICAL RESULTS OF THE EXPEDITION
By a. M. HERON, D.Sc, F.G.S., Geological Survey of India.

The area geologically examined is somewhat over 8,000 square
miles, comprising the Tibetan portion of the Arun drainage area,
with, in the West, the headwaters of the Bhotia Kosi and its tributaries.

The circumstances of the Expedition were not favourable for
work in any detail, but an endeavour was made to traverse and map
as large an area as possible on a scale of |-inch to the mile, on skeleton
maps very kmdly furnished by Major Morshead and his surveyors as
their plane-tabling proceeded ; my work must therefore be considered
as a geological reconnaissance pure and simple.

If I am accorded the privilege of accompanying the second
Expedition, by which time Major Wheeler's map on a scale of 1-inch
to the mile will be available, I hope to be able to make a detailed
survey of the vicinity of Mount Everest and investigate the complicated
inter-relationships of the metamorphosed sedimentarles and the
associated gneisses and granites.

My survey continues to the Westward Sir Henry Hayden's work
during the Tibet Expedition in 1903-4.

Geologically this area is divided into two broad divisions : (a)
Tibetan and sedimentary, (h) Himalayan aixd crystalline, a distinction
which is clearly displayed in the topography resulting from the
underlying geological structure, for to the North we have the somewhat
tame and lumpy mountains of Tibet contrasting with the higher,
steeper and more rugged Himalayas on the South.

The Tibetan zone consists of an intensely folded succession of
shales and limestones, with subordinate sandstone quartzites, the
folds striking East-West and mainly lying over towards the South,
showing that the movements which produced them came from the
North.

The uppermost rocks consist of the Kampa system of Hayden,
a great thickness of limestones, which, where the rocks have escaped

338

GEOLOGICAL RESULTS 339

alteration, yield an assemblage of fossils which determine their age
as Cretaceous and Eocene.

Below these is a monotonous succession of shales, practically
unfossiliferous, with occasional quartzites and limestones representing
the Upper and Middle Jurassic with at the base beds probably belonging
to the Lias.

These Jurassic shales are by far the most conspicuous formation
in this part of Tibet, being repeated many times in complicated folds.

The Cretaceous-Eocene limestones form comparatively narrow
bands, occurring as compressed synclines caught up in the folded
complex of Jurassic shales.

Along the Southern border of the Tibetan zone, below the base of
the Jurassic shales, is a great thickness (2,000 feet-3,000 feet) of
thinly bedded limestones in which the fossils have been destroyed
and the rocks themselves converted over considerable areas into
crystalline limestones and calc-gneisses containing tremolite, epidote,
tourmaline, etc., but still retaining their original bedded structure in
the banding of the altered rock.

The absence of determinable fossils makes it impossible to determine
the age of these with certainty, but from their lithological character
and position in the sequence, it is possible that they correspond with
the Tso Lhamo limestone in Sikhim (Lias) and the Kioto limestone
of the Zangskar range (Lower Jurassic and Upper Trias).

The Himalayan and crystalline zone is essentially composed of
foliated and banded biotite-gneiss, usually garnetiferous, on which
lie, at comparatively low angles and with a general Northerly dip, the
above-mentioned calc-gneisses.

These occur most abundantly to the North and West of Everest,
in the Keprak, Rongbu, Hlalung and Rebu Valleys. The group of
high peaks to the North-west of Everest (overlooking the Khumbu
Pass) is made up of these and intrusive Gchorl granite, and it would
seem that the precipitous North-western face and spurs of Everest
are the same.

The Eastern and North-eastern valleys, Chongphu, Kharta and
Kama, which are in general at a lower level than the North-western
valleys, are excavated in the biotite-gneiss. On the North-eastern
face of Everest fresh snow was too abundant at the time of my visit
to make out what the rocks were.

Associated with the limestones and calc-gneisses are quartzites
and tourmaline-biotite schists which probably represent the lowest
portions of the shales immediately overlying the limestones.
M.E. z*

340 MOUNT EVEREST

It is probable that the biotite-gneiss is an igneous rock intrusive
in the calc-gneisses and schists, but this and many other puzzling
features of the crystallines require more detailed study than I was able
to give this year.

Both biotite-gneiss and metamorphosed sedimentaries are crowded
with dykes and sills, of all dimensions, of schorl granite or pegmatite
to such an extent that this granite is frequently the predominant
rock. It is highly resistant to weathering and it is doubtless due to
its presence in large amount that such comparatively soft rocks as
the calc-gneisses take part in forming some of the highest summits.

In the same way the scattered peaks of over 20,000 feet on the
watershed between the Arun and the Tsangpo owe their prominence
to their being groups of veins of a very similar granite, differing in
that it contains biotite in place of schorl. Around these separate
centres of intrusion are areoles of metamorphism in which the Jurassic
shales have been converted into slates and phyllites.

Economically the area traversed by the Expedition is devoid of
interest. Barring a little copper staining on a few boulders on moraines
no traces of ore were seen.

APPENDIX IV

THE SCIENTIFIC EQUIPMENT
By a. R. HINKS, F.R.S., Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society.

The most important scientific work of the first year's expedition
Bhould have been the study of the physiological effects of high altitude
that Dr. Kellas had undertaken, with the support of Professor
Haldane, E.R.S., and of the Oxygen Research Committee of the
Department of Scientific and Industrial Research. In his work on
Kamet in 1920, Dr. Kellas had tried, and provisionally decided against,
the use of oxygen compressed in cylinders : but he laboured under the
grave disadvantage that the light cylinders he hoped to obtain had
been, after his departure for India, pronounced unsafe ; and the
cylinders sent out were clearly too heavy for effective use in climbing.
Dr. Kellas had therefore fallen back on the use of oxygen prepared
from the reaction between water and oxylith in an apparatus which
included a kind of gas mask. He was prepared also to make several
difficult researches into the physiological processes of adaptation to
low oxygen pressure ; and some delicate apparatus was prepared
and sent out to him by the Oxygen Research Committee. Unhappily
these interesting and important enquiries came to nought, for there
was no one competent to carry them on after his lamented death at
Kampa Dzong ; and the Expedition of 1922 was thereby deprived
of much information that should have been at its disposal in studying
the use of oxygen for the grand assault.

The scientific equipment for which the Mount Everest Committee
were directly responsible was not ambitious : the Survey of India
were responsible for the whole of the survey and brought their own
equipment, which is described elsewhere in this book. It was necessary
to provide the climbing party only with aneroids, compasses, reserve
field-glasses, thermometers and cameras, with subsidiary apparatus
for checking the aneroids at the base camps, and heavier cameras
for work at lower levels.

The aneroids by Gary, Porter & Co. and by Short & Mason wer^

341

342 ' MOUNT EVEREST

constructed in pairs, to operate from 15,000 to 23,000, and 22,000 to
30,000 feet respectively. They seem to have performed well on the
whole, and tests made at the National Physical Laboratory since their
return show that they have changed very little ; but it cannot be
said that their performances were very effectively controlled in the
field, for until late in the season there were no trigonometrical heights
available, and the climbers had little opportunity in their rather
isolated circumstances of employing their aneroids to the best
advantage, for purely differential work. Nor is there much to be
said as yet on the value of the shortened form of George mercurial
barometer, to come into action only at 15,000 feet (Gary, Porter &
Co.). These instruments will find effective use only in the second
season, when the reference points of the trigonometrical survey will
be available as fundamental data.

The climbers carried " Magnapole " compasses with luminous
points, and sometimes a Mark VIII prismatic ; these all worked
weU. The simpler compass is the more convenient for use on snow
when goggles must be worn. A luminous liquid compass (Short &
Mason) was found very useful on long reconnaissance rides.

For the record of temperatures in camps Messrs. Negretti & Zambra
had made three small pairs of maximum and minimum thermometers
in leather travelling cases. These suffered some casualties, by theft,
or being accidentally left out in the sun ; and the pattern has been
repeated for the second year's work.

The heavier photographic equipment included an old and weU-
seasoned 7| x 5 Hare Camera, lent to the Expedition, but newly
fitted by Messrs. Dallmeyer with a Stigmatic lens of 9 inches focal
length, a negative telephoto lens of 4 inches focal length giving
enlargement up to 6 times, and a set of Wratten filters. With this
camera Mr. WoUaston secured some of the finest pictures taken on the
Expedition.

There were also two quarter-plate cameras for glass plates : a
Sinclair Una camera fitted by Messrs. Dallmeyer with a Stigmatic
lens of 5-3 inches focal length, and Adon telephoto lens ; and a second
Sinclair camera lent by'Captain Noel.

One or the other of these two was used by Mr. Mallory at many
of the high camps, and both the Hare 7^ X 5 and the Sinclair quarter-
plate went to the 22,500-foot camp at the Lhakpa La : doubtless
the greatest height yet attained by so large a camera as the former.
The principal difficulty with these cameras was unsteadiness in a
heavy wind when the telephoto lens was in use : and the tripods

THE SCIENTIFIC EQUIPMENT 343

have been strengthened and the lens supports stiffened before they
go out again.

The plates were of two kinds : Imperial Special Rapid and Fine
Grain slow. The latter were generally preferred, and could hardly
have been better. The Imperial Dry Plate Company, who generously
made and presented these plates to the Expedition, deserve special
thanks for their skill and foi their generosity.

The cameras which used films were a Panoram Kodak of 5 inches
focal length, with films 12 x 4 inches ; a No. 1 Autograph Kodak,
and two Vest Pocket Kodaks, all three fitted with Cooke lenses by
Messrs. Taylor, Taylor & Hobson. The Panoram Kodak was used
very successfully by Colonel Howard-Bury, and the splendid series of
panoramas is the most useful, if not quite the most beautiful, set of
photographs brought home. The smaller cameras were used by the
climbing party with many good results.

Finally it must be said that a large part of the best photographs
were taken by Colonel Howard-Bury with his own 7x5 Kodak,
and the results very generously placed at the disposal of the Committee.

All the instruments were examined and tested at the National
Physical Laboratory, an^ the thanks of the Committee are due to
the Director and his staff, who gave most valuable advice and
assistance.

APPENDIX V

MAMMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS COLLECTED BY THE

EXPEDITION

By a. F. R. WOLLASTON

A.— LIST OF MAMMALS COLLECTED

Stoat. Mustela temon

Stoat. Mustela longstaffi,

Marmot. Marmota himalayana

Hamster. Cricetulus alticola tibetanus, subsp. n.

Vole. Phaiomys leucurus

Vole. Phaiomys everesti

Vole. Microtus {Alticola), sp,

Pika, Ochotona roylei nepalensis

Pika. Ochotona wollastoni, sp. n.

Pika. Ochotona curzonice

B.— LIST OF BIRDS COLLECTED

Central Asian blackbird. Turdus maxima

Solitary thrush. Monticola solitarius

White-breasted Asiatic dipper. Cinclus cashmirensis

Indian stone -chat. Saxicola torquata indica

Gould's desert chat. Saxicola montana

Bush chat. Pratincola prjevalskii

Indian redstart. Ruticilla rufiventris

Guldenstadt's Afghan redstart. Ruticilla grandia

White-capped redstart. Chimarrhornis leucocephalus

Hodgson's grandala. Grandala ccelicolor

TickeU's wUlow-warbler. Phylloscopus affinis

Mandelli's willow- warbler. Phylloscopus mandellii

Smoky willow- warbler. Phylloscopus fulviventris

Spotted bush- warbler. Lusciniola thoracica

Prince Henry's laughing thrush. Trochalopterum henrici

344

MAMMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS 345

Eastern alpine accentor. Accentor rufiliatus

Red-breasted accentor. Accentor rubeculoides

Rufous-breasted accentor. Accentor strophiatus

Brown accentor. Accentor fulvescens

Sikkim black tit. Parus heavani

Wren. Troglodytes, sp.

Hodgson's pied wagtail. Motacilla hodgsoni

White -faced wagtail. Motacilla leucopsia

Yellow-headed wagtail. Motacilla citreola.

Blyth's pipit. Anthus citreola

Indian tree-pipit. Anthus maculatus

Hodgson's pipit. Anthus rosaceus

Grey-backed shrike. Lanius tephronotus

Slaty -blue flycatcher. Gyornis leucomelanurus

Himalayan greenfinch. Hypacanthis spinoides

Tree-sparrow. Passer montanus

Cinnamon tree -sparrow. Passer cinnamomeus

Blanford's snow-finch. Montifringilla hlanfordi

Adams' snow-finch. Montifringilla adamsi.

Hodgson's ground-finch. Fringilauda nemoricola

Brandt's ground-linnet. Leucosticte brandti.

Walton's twite. Linota rufostrigata

Red-breasted rose-finch. Pyrrhospiza punicea

Scarlet rose-finch. Carpodacus erythrinus

Hodgson's rose-finch. Carpodacus pulcherrimus

Severtzofi's rose-finch. Carpodacus severtzoi

Prejewalk's rose-finch. Carpodacus ruhicilloides

Red-headed bullfinch. Pyrrhula erythrocephala

Godlevski's meadow bunting. Emberiza godlevskii

Elwes' shore -lark. Otocorys elwesi

Long-billed calandra lark. Melanocorpha maxima

Tibetan skylark. Alauda inopinata

Short-toed lark. Calandrella brachydactyla

Brook's short-toed lark. Calandrella acutirostris iibitana

Chough. Pyrrhocorax graculus

Brown ground-chough. Podoces humilia

Common hoopoe. Upupa epops

Pied crested cuckoo. Coccystes jacobinus

Eastern Uttle owl. Athene bactriana

White-backed dove. Columba leuconota

Snow partridge. Lerwa lerwa

346

MOUNT EVEREST

Temminck's stint. Tringa temmincki
Redshank. Totanus calidris
Dusky redshank. Totanus fuscus
Greater sand plover. Acegialitis mongola
Common tern. Sterna fiuviatilis

In addition to the above
specimens of them were not

Wall-creeper
House martin
Sand martin
Rock martin
Alpine chough
Magpie
Black crow
Raven
Swift

Siberian swift
Cuckoo

Himalayan vulture
Lammergeier
Sea eagle
Pallas' sea eagle
Black-eared kite
Barheaded goose

the following birds were identified, but
obtained : —

Ruddy sheldrake

Garganey

Wigeon

Pochard

Gadwall

Hill rock-dove

Chinese turtle dove

Tibetan partridge

Tibetan snow partridge

Blood pheasant

Black-necked crane

White stork

Ibis-biU

Painted snipe

Pin-tailed snipe

Brown-headed gull

C— LIST OF PLANTS COLLECTED BETWEEN JUNE AND
SEPTEMBER, 1921, 12,000-20,400 ft.

Clematis orientalis, L.
Ranunculus pulchellus, C. A.

Mey., var. sericeus, Hk. f. & T.
Ranunculus pulchellus, C. A.

Mey.
Anemone obtusiloba, Don
Anemone polyanthes, Don
Anemone rivularis, Ham.
Geranium Grevilleanum, Wall.
Caltha scaposa, Hk. f. & T.
Delphinium Brunonianum, Royle
Aconitum gymnandrum, ]\Iax.

Aconitum orochryseum, Stapf, sp.

nov.
Delphinium Pylzowii, Maxim.
Halenia eUiptica, Don
Delphinium grandiflorum, L.
Hypecoum leptocarpum, Hk. f.

& T.
Meconopsis horridula, Hk. f. & T.
Meconopsis grandis, Prain ?
Meconopsis, sp.
Corydalis, sp.
Corydalis juncea. Wall.

MAMMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS

347

Corydalis Moorcroftiana, Wall.
Arabis tibetica, Hk. f. & T.
Lepidium ruderale, L.
Arenaria ciliolata, Edgew.
Dilophia salsa, Hk. f. & T.
Cardamine macrophylla, Willd.
Arenaria Stracheyi, Edgew.
Silene Waltoni, F. N. Williams
Silene Moorcroftiana, WaU.
Arenaria musciformis, Wall.
Arenaria melandrioides, Edgew.
Polygonum islandicum, Hk. f.
Geranium collinum, A. DC.
Impatiens sulcatus. Wall.
Thermopsis barbata, Royle
Thermopsis lanceolata, R. Br.
Sophora Moorcroftiana, Benth.
Stracheya tibetica, Benth.
Astragalus strictus, Grab.
Oxytropis microphylla, DC
Gueldenstsedtia uniflora, Benth.
Desmodium nutans, WaU.
Potentilla coriandrifolia, Hk. f.
Potentilla multifida, L.
Potentilla sericea, L.
Potentilla microphylla, Don
Potentilla peduncularis, Don
Potentilla Griffithii, Hk. f.
Spiraea arcuata, Hk. f.
Saxifraga Lychnitis, Hk. f. & T.
Saxifraga nutans, Hk. f. & T.
Saxifraga aristulata, Hk. f.
Saxifraga near S. saginoides, Hk.

f. & T.
Saxifraga flagellaris, Willd.
Saxifraga Hirculus, L.
Saxifraga Lychnitis, Hk. f. & T.
Saxifraga fimbriata, Wall.
Saxifraga pilifera, Hk. f. & T.
Saxifraga Caveana, W. W. Sm.
Saxifraga microphylla, Royle

Saxifraga pallida, WaU.
Saxifraga umbeUulata, Hk. f. &

T.
Parnassia ovata, Ledeb.
Parnassia pusiUa, WaU.
Eutrema Prewalskii, Hk. f. & T.
Sedum fastigiatum, Hk. f. & T.
Sedum trifidum, Wall.
Sedum crenulatum, Hk. f. & T.
Sedum himalense, Don
EpUobium palustre, L.
EpUobium reticulatum, C. B. CI.
Pleurospermum Hookeri, C. B. CI.
Scabiosa Hookeri, C. B. CI.
Valeriana Hardwickii, WaU.
Aster, sp.

Aster heterochsetus, C. B. CI.
AUardia glabra. Dene.
Aster tibeticus, Hk. f.
Cremanthodium Decaisnei, C. B.

CI.
Aster diplostephioides, C. B. CI.
Erigeron, sp.
Leontopodium fimbriUigerum, J.

R. Drum. ?
Leontopodium monocephalum,

Edgew.
Leontopodium Stracheyi, C. B. CI.
Anaphalis xylorhiza, Sch. Bip.
Anaphalis cuneifolia. Hook. f.
Tana^cetum tibeticum, Hk. f . & T.
Senecio arnicoides, WaU. var.

frigida, Hk. f.
Cremanthodium pinnatifidum,

Benth.
Chrysanthemum Atkhisoni, C. B.

CI. ?
Artemisia Moorcroftiana, WaU.
Sonchus sp.

Senecio glomerata, Decne.
Senecio (§ Ligularia) sp.

348

MOUNT EVEREST

Senecio chrysanthemoides, DC.
Tanacetum khartense, Dunn, sp.

nov.
Aster sp.

Lactuca macrantha, C. B. CI.
Senecio sorocephala, Hemsl.
Saussurea gossypina, Wall.
Saussurea tridactyla, Sch. Bip.
Tanacetum gossypinum, Hk. f. &

T.
Saussurea wernerioides, Sch. Bip.
Crepis glomerata, Hk. f. ?
Saussurea graminifolia, Wall.
Senecio arnicoides, Wall.
Saussurea uniflora, Wall.
Morina polyphylla, Wall.
Saussurea glandulifera, Sch. Bip.
Lactuca Dubysea, C. B. CI.
Lactuca Lessertiana, C. B, CI.
Cassiope fastigiata, D. Don
Daphne retusa, Hemsl.
Rhododendron lepidotum, Wall.
Rhododendron setosum, Don
Rhododendron near R. lepido-
tum, Wall.
Rhododendron campylocarpum,

Hk. f.
Rhododendron cinnabarinum,

Hk. f.
Rhododendron lanatum, Hk. f.
Rhododendron arboreum, Sm.
Rhododendron Thomson!, Hk. f.
Cyananthus incanus, Hk. f . & T.
Glossocomia tenera, DC.
Cyananthus pedunculatus, C. B.

CI.
Campanula modesta, Hk. f, & T.
Campanula colorata. Wall.
Campanula aristata. Wall.
Androsace chamsDJasme, Hort.,

var. coronata, Wall.

Androsace villosa, L. var, 1
Androsace strigillosa, Franch.
Primula minutissima, Jacq.
Primula Buryana, Balf. f. sp.

nov.
Primula Wollastonii, Balf. f. sp,

nov.
Primula pusilla. Wall.
Primula sikkimensis, Hook, mi-
croform
Primula capitata, Hook,
Primula capitata, microform.
Primula uniflora, Kiatt
Primula Dickieana, Watt,
Primula obliqua, W. W, Sm.
Primula indobella. Balf. f.
Primula minutissima, Jacq.
Primula glabra, Klatt
Primula Younghusbandii, sp.

nov.
Primula tibetica, Watt.
Primula denticulata, Sm.
Primula sikkimensis, Hook.
Primula nivalis, Pallas, var. ma-

crocarpa. Pax.
Gentiana amcena, C. B. CI.
Gentiana ornata. Wall.
Gentiana sp. Probably new but

the material is too imperfect

to decide this.
Gentiana Elwesii, C. B. CI.
Gentiana robusta. King
Gentiana micantiformis, Burkill
Gentiana nubigena, Edgew.
Gentiana tubiflora, Wall., var.

longiflora, Turrill, var. nov.
Gentiana stellata, Turrill, sp,

nov.
Gentiana tenella. Fries
Swertia cuneata. Wall.
Arenaria Stracheyi, Edgew.

MAIVIMALS, BIRDS AND PLANTS

349

Swertia Elingii, Hk. f.
Swertia Younghusbandii, Burkill
Swertia multicaulis, D. Don
Nardostachys grandiflora, DC.
Trigonotis rotundifolia, Benth.
Eritrichium densiflorum, Duthie
Microula sikJdmensis, Hemsl.
Onosma Waddellii, Duthie
Onosma Hookeri, C. B. CI.
Verbascum Thapsus, L.
Lancea tibetica, Hk. f. & T.
Lagotis crassifolia, Prain
Pedicularis trichoglossa, Hk. f.
Pedicularis Elwesii, H!k. f.
Pedicularis megalantha, Don,

forma
Pedicularis megalantha, Don, var.

pauciflora, Prain
Pedicularis Roylei, Maxim.
Pedicularis siphonantha, Don
Pedicularis cheilanthif olia,

Schrank
Pedicularis tubiflora, Fischer
Pedicularis integrifolia, Hk. f.
Pedicularis globifera, Hk. f.
Incarvillea Younghusbandii,

Sprague
Escholtzia eriostachya, Benth,
Nardostachys latamansi, DC.
Dracocephalum breviflorum, Tur-

rill, sp. nov.
Dracocephalum tanguticum,

Maxim.
Dracocephalum heterophyllum,

Benth.
Dracocephalum speciosum, Benth.
Veronica lanuginosa, Benth.
Nepeta discolor, Benth.
Nepeta Thomsoni, Benth.
Atriplex rosea, L.

Polygonum vaccinifolium, Wall.
Polygonum viviparum, L.
Polygonum tortuosum, Don
Polygonum affine, Don
Polygonum amphibium, L.
Stellera chamaejasme, L.
Euphorbia Stracheyi, Boiss.
Orchis cylindrostachys, Kranzl,
Liparis sp.

Goodyera fusca, Lindl.
Dendrobium alpestre, Royle
Pleione Hookeriana, S. Moore
Orchis Chusna, Don
Roscoea purpurea, Sm.
Iris nepalensis, Don
Iris goniocarpa, Baker
Iris tenuifolia, Pallas
Lloydia tibetica. Baker
Lloydia sp.

Fritillaria Hookeri, Baker
Fritillaria near F. Stracheyi, Hk. f .
Fritillaria cirrhosa, Don
Allium, sp.

Allium Wallichii, Kunth
Allium Govenianum, Wall. ?
Allium cyaneum, Regel
Larix Griffithii, Hk, f.
Dryopteris Linneana, C, Chr.
Dryopteris Filix-mas, var. ser-

rato-dentata, C. Chr.
Cryptogramma Brunoniana, Wall.
Calophaca crassicaulis, Benth.
Glaux maritima, L,
Androsace sessiliflora, Turrill, sp.

nov.
Astragalus oreotrophes, W, W.

Sm,
Thamnolia vermicularis, Schaer.
Stcreocaulon alpinus, Laur.
Thelochistes flavicans. Norm.

350 MOUNT EVEREST

Note. — ^The material of some of the numbers was insufficient for
accurate determination ; in a few cases the material necessary for
comparison was on loan, and in the case of one or two genera, such
as Aster, revision of the North Asian and Indian species will have
to be undertaken before certain plants can be definitely named. The
numbers in the list coming under these categories are named " sp."

Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew.

March 7, 1922.

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MAP n

Prelun-inaxy !Map

MOUNT EVEREST

ted at tiie H T, S
fxo-m plio-tog'Ta.pliB aui aketclLes
made \>y tJie
EXPEDITION OF 19EI

INDEX

Abdtil Jalil, photographic assistant, 59,

319
Abruzzi, Duke of the, 2, 3, 5, 155
Acchu, cook, 103, 133, 178
Acclimatisation to high altitudes, 277,

308, 341
Alpine Ckib, 1, 7, 14-19, 305
Altitude, effects on human frame, 5,

102, 104-5, 137-8, 154r-5, 199, 204,

206-7, 253-4, 276, 307-8, 315, 341;

on breathing, 200, 243-4, 277 ; on

tinned fish, 50
Ammo-chu, river, 39, 44, 291
Aneroids, 341

Ang Tenze, coolie, 113, 149-51, 166
Ari, bungalow, 33
Arun, river, 89, 104^5; gorges, 110,

125, 221, 297, 298 ; see Bhong-chu
Avalanches, 231, 267-9, 308-9

Bailey, Major, 31, 314

Bamtso, lake, 49

Bell, Sir Charles, 16, 24, 166

Bhompos, Buddhist sect, 39

Bhong-chu, river, 64-5, 69-71, 89-90,

93, 99, 100, 110, 159, 161, 295 ; upper

valley, 320, 322 ; see Arun
Bhotias, 24
Bhotia ponies, 27
Bhotia Kosi, river, 338
Birds, 290-303, 312, 344-6
Brahma Putra, river, 61 ; see Tsan-po
Bridges, 69, 93-4, 103, 115, 123, 159-60,

191
Bruce, General, 1, 3, 13, 17, 154, 312
Buchan, J., 19
Buddhism and Buddhists, 25, 67-8,

173 ; books, '41 ; red cap sect, 173 ;

yellow cap sect, 58, 173 ; regard for

animal hfe, 59, 80, 166, 290 ; see

Monasteries, prayer-wheels

Bullock, G. H., 19, 26, 52 ; see Mallory
Bullocks, 48, etc. ; see Transport
Burrard, Sir S., 10-12

Carpo-Ri, mountain, 227 ; ascended,

117,229-35,268
Chamlang, mountain, 140
Chandra Nursery, 32
Chang La (North Col) 142 ; first view

of, 204 ; 207, 212, 220 ; way to,

233-40, 246-8, 256 ; camp on,

259-60 ; best route to, 273-4,

311-12, 334-5
Changtse, North peak of Everest, 142,

213, 215, 233-4
Chelmsford, Lord, 16
Chheten Wangdi, interpreter, 25, 39,

69, 91, 95, 112, 162, 179
Chinese in Tibet, 38-9, 71-2, 173 ; in

Nepal, 71
Chitayn, coolie, 212
Chobvik, monastery and bridge, 82, 95,

190, 191, 312, 327
Chodzong, village, 86
Chog La, 106, 121, 129, 299-300
Choksum, village, 324
Chomiomo, mountain, 52, 54, 140, 166
Chomolhari, mountain, 45, 48, 60, 64,

167, 263
Chomolonzo, mountain, 114, 116, 149-

51
Chomolungma (Mount Everest or

Makalu), 13, 24, 107, 224
Chomo-Uri (INIount Everest), 64
Chorabsang, mountain, 77-8; ( = Cho

Rapsang, 331)
Chortens, 40, 66, 174, 286, etc.
Cho Uyo, mountain, 73, 76, 78, 101,

207, 219, 330
Choyling monastery, 194
Chulungphu, village, 89, 104

351

352

INDEX

Chumbi valley, 25, 37-44, 170, 177-8 ;
village, 38 ; faiina and flora, 291

Chushar Nango, village, 60-61, 131,
134, 295

Chuphar, village and monastery, 327

Chu-tronu, 123

Collie, J. N., 17-18

Compasses, 342

Conway, Sir M., 4, 5

Coolies, 23-5 ; behaviour, 47, 146, 156,
213, 216, 222-3, etc. ; as carriers,
92-4, 113, 122, 158, 284-6; see
Transport ; in motmtaineering, 84,
188, 195, 203-6, 212, 230, 251 f!.,
332

Crampons, 207-8, 272

Cups of tea, as measures of distance,
108

Curios, 67, 157

Curzon, Lord, 1, 19

Dak, village, 93
Dalai Lama, the, 16, 173
Darjeeling, 23-28, 179
Dasno, coolie, 234
Desiccation, 51
Dochen, bungalow, 49, 168
Dokcho, village, 321
Donka monastery, 40-42
Donkeys, 48,'64, 65, etc. See Transport
Dorje, cook, 50
Dorji Gompa, coolie, 202, 256
Doto nunnery, 51
Doya La, 88, 104, 336
Dram, vdllage, 325
Drophung monastery, 323
Dug pass, 50
Dvikpa, cook, 134, 188
Dunge pokri, island, 127
Dzakar (or Zakar) Chu, river, 93-5,
159, 297, 333

Eaton, J. E. C, 17

Equipment, 20, 315, 341

Everest, Moxint, 1-2, 183 ; position, 9,
13 ; height, 10-12 ; names, 13, 64,
225 ; seen from Khamba Dzong, 54,
56, 183-4 ; from ShUing, 64, 186-88,
217, 230, 263 ; from Rongbuk Valley,
192, 263-4 ; from Kama Valley, 116,
226; local ignorance of, 107, 112,

116; structure, 192-4, 203, 215, 310;
best season for ascent, 153, 248, 270 ;
difficulties of, 154, 276, 308 ; plans
for, in 1921, 250-52

— — Committee, 16 ff.

— — Expedition, origin of, 14-16 ;
value of, 5 ; objects, 17-18 ; cost,
19 ; equipment, 20, 315, 341 ; results
179-80, 310-12, 338, 341. See
Survey

Everest, Sir G., 13

Farrar, Captain J. P., 14, 17, 19, 315
Finch, Captain G., 19, 313, 315
" Finger," the, station, 335-6
Foiirteen lakes, valley of the, 106, 121 ;

fauna and flora, 299
Fowkes, Sergeant, 28
Freshfield, D. W., 1, 14-16, 18
Fuel, 80, 105, 171, 211, 237, 247, 273,

331

Gadompa, village and bridge, 160-61

Galinka, \'illage and monastery, 40

Gandenchofel monastery, 108, 131

Gauri Sankar, mountain, 288, 326, 331

Gautsa, bungalow, 44

Gelupka ( = Yellow Cap) sect, 173

Geshe Rimpoche, Lama, 40

Ghoom, 29

Glaciers, ancient extent of, 128 ;

characteristics, 194, 197, 218 ;

atmosphere, 200, 243, 270
Gnatong, village, 35-6, 178
Gosainthan, mountain, 64, 101, 284,

322-3
Graham, Dr., 30-31
Graphic, the, 19

Gujjar Singh, surveyor, 319, 323-7
Gm-khas in Tibet, 71, 95, 106
Guru Rimpoche, saint, 173
Gyachimg Kang, movmtain, 207, 219,

330
Gyalzen Kazi, interpreter, 25, 56, 133,

137, 163, 177-8, 188, 190, 202, 323
Gyangka-nangpa, house, 62, 184
Gyanka range of moiintains, 184

Haldane, J. S., 341

Halung, village, 86-7, 103, 240 ; valley,
339

INDEX

353

Hari Ram, explorer, 319, 324

Harvest rents, 161, 174

Hatarana, steamer, 24

Hayden, Sir H., 338

Hermits, 80, 83-4, 99

Heron, Dr. A. M., 20, 26 ; expeditions
from Tingri, 74, 77-85, 98, 120, 325 ;
first expedition to Kharta, 86-95 ;
162, 164, 179-80 ; in Upper Kharta
Valley, 253 ; returns by Kama
Valley, 146-153, 337, and Teesta
Valley, 164, 337 ; note on geological
results, 338-340

Himalaya, 7-8, 11, 304 ff. ; H. and
the Alps, 194

Hinks, A. R., 17, 20, 315 ; notes on
scientific equipment, 341-2

Holdich, Sir T., 15

Hopaphema, landowner, 91-3, 104,
108, 111-12, 157-8

Hot springs. See Kambu, Tsamda

Howard-Bury, Colonel O.K., 13, 15, 17,
20, 343 ; author of the general
narrative of the expedition, 23-180 ;
expeditions from Tingri, 75-85 ; first
expedition to Kharta, 86-95;
expeditions from Kharta, 106-111 ;
visits Kama Valley, 112 ff. ; ascent
of 19,500 ft. ridge, 116; of Kama
Changri, 136-7 ; of Lhakpa La,
140-145, 257 ff.

Hue, abbd, 293

India Office, 16

India, Government of, 16, 23

— Surveyof, 20, 26-7, 341

Interpreters, 25, 47 ; discretion of, 108

Isaacs, Mr., 39

"Island," the, 209, 213, 219

Jack, Colonel E. M., 17, 20, 315
Jannu, mountain, 117, 135, 140
Jelep La, 36, 37, 178, 290, 291 note
Jetsun-Nga-Wang-Chhofol, saint, 109,

325
Jongpens, 174-5, 283, 324
Jonsong, mountain, 47, 140

Kabru, mountain, 26, 47, 168
Kala-tso, lake, 51
Kalimpong, village, 29-30

Kama Valley, 112-119, 146-52, 225-7,

311, 339 ; fauna and flora, 300-01
Kama Changri, mountain, 114, 136-7
Kama-chu, river, 122-4
Kambu hot springs, 40-43 ; valley,

291
Kanchenjunga, mountain, 9, 46, 117,

135, 140, 185
Kanchenjhow, motintain, 52, 64, 104,

166
Kang-chu, river, 325
Kangchen and -chung passes, 326
Kangdoshung glacier, 115-16
Kangshung glacier, 149-51
Karpo La, 147
Karro Pumri, moimtain, 326
Kartse, mountain, 141
KeUas, A. M., 14, IS, 26, 341 ; illness

and death, 46-49, 52-54, 164, 321
KJiamba Dzong, fort and village, 13,

24, 53-57, 96, 164
Kharkung, village, 161
Kharta, 24, 90 ; first visit to, 88-93 ;

headquarters of the expedition,

104^5, 110; survey of, 323, 327;

valley formation, 339 ; fauna and

flora, 299, 301-03
Khartaphu, mountain, 330
lOie or Khetam, village, 50-61
Kheru, 51
Khombu pass, 76, 78-9, 312, 339

— vaUey, 150-51
Kimonanga, village, 124
Korabak, rock, 124

Kuti ( = Nyenyam), village, 324
Kyetrak, village and valley, 74-77, 327,
331

— glacier, 70, 77-79, 312 ; river, 79
Kyishong, village, 65, 102

Lachen, 56, 337

Lalbir Singh Thapa, surveyor, 319, 322,

327
Lamna La, 81, 327

Langkor, village and temple, 281, 32.1
LangmaLa, 112-13, 130, 224
Langra, rest-house, 37, 178
Lapchc, village and monaster}', 287,

325-6
Lapcho Kang, mountain, 115, 284-5,

325

354

INDEX

Lashar; village, 161

Lebong, races at, 27

Leeches, 34-5, 123-4, 126, 300, 337

Lhakpa La (Windy Gap), 138, 161,
273-4; first visits to, 240-249,
255-6 ; camp on, 140-44, 257-8, 261

Lhasa, 16, 24, 173, 174 ; road to, 48-49

Lhonak peaks, 52

Lhotse, mountain (S. peak of Everest),
116, 213

Lingga, village, 57, 163-4

Lingmatang, plain, 40, 44, 291

Longstaff, Dr. T. G., 1, 5, 314

Liimeh, village, 93-4, 159

Lungchen La, 322

Lungdo, vUlage, 110, 125

Lunghi, 167

Macdonald, David and family, 31, 38,
177

Makalu, mountain, 104, 116, 118-19,
137, 186, 225-6, etc. ; glacier, 151

Mallory, G. H. L., 19, 26, 313 ; recon-
noitres N. approach to Everest, 74,
181-220 ; ascends Ri-Ring (23,050
ft.), 205-7, 264 ; moves to Kharta,
102-106 ; reconnoitres E. approach
to Everest, 117, 221-249; back to
Kharta, 130; ascends Kama Changi'i,
136-7 ; final assault and ascent of
North Col, 131-145, 250-261 ; leaves
Kharta, 153 ; views on weather
conditions, 262-72 ; on the route up
Everest, 273-79

Mammals, 290-303, 312, 344, etc.

Mani WaUs, 40, 174, etc.

Maps of Tibet, 62

" Marigolds, Field of," 119, 152

Matsang, village, 125

Meade, C. F., 5, 17, 19

Mendalongkyo, 129

Mende, village, 57

Menkhap-to and -me, villages, 322

Menlung pass, 327

" Metohkangmi," 141

Mila Respa, saint, 287

Monasteries, 99, 113, 173 See Donka,
Galinka, Ganden Chhofel, Rongbuk,
Shekar Chote, etc.

Monsoon, 31, 48, 88, 91, 139, 216, 248,
262 ff . See rainfall

Morshead, Major H. T., 20, 25-27, 54,
65, 75, 96 ; trip to Nyenyam, 97, 108,
281-9, 323-5; at Kharta, 112;
survey of Kharta Valley, 131-2, 135 ;
first ascent of Lhakpa La, 130, 230-
49 ; ascends Kama Changri, 136-7 ;
second ascent of Lhakpa La, 140-
144, 25a-8 ; map by, 312, 338 ;
account of survey by, 319-28

Moimtain sickness, 207, 258, 323. See
altitude

Mountaineering, 2-4, 6-8, 305-6

Mules, lent by Government, 27-8 ;
breakdown of, 33-4 ; Tibetan, 32-33,
48, etc. See Transport

Nangba ( = Khombu), pass, 77, 331

NarsLng, mountain, 26

Nathu La, 37

Nawang Lobsang, first Dalai Lama, 173

Nepal, 13

Nepalese coolies, 25, 122 ; invasion of

Tibet, 71, 73; traders, 122, 127,

324 ; herdsmen, 126
Nezogu bridge, 100, 102
Ngawangyonten, official, 94
Nieves penitentes, 78
Nila pass, 61, 184
Noel, Major J. B. L., 14, 314
Nomads, 51, 171
North Col of Everest, 212, 215. See

Chang La
North cwm of Everest, 200, 203-4
North peak. See Chang- tse
North-East Arete, 215, 227, 235, 250-

51, 259, 274-6, 310
Norton, Major E. F., 313
Nuns and nvumeries, 51, 80, 83, 166
Nyenyam, 73, 97, 108, 283-4, 297, 324
Nyima Tendu, coolie, 113, 149-51, 234

Oxygen for climbers, 154, 277, 307-8,
315-16, 341

Padamchen ( = Sedongchen), 33

Padma Sambhava, saint, 173

Pashok, 337

Pawhunri mountains, 46, 52, 54, 166

Pedong, 31-2

Pekhu plain, 322

Peshoke, bungalow, 29

Pethang Ringmo, 116, 138

INDEX

355

Pethangtse, mountain, 117, 147
Phari, fort and village, 24, 35, 45-8,

168 ; plain, 46, 292
Phanik, district, 323, 327
Phema, viUage, 38
Philadelphia Ledger, the, 19
Photography, 68, 72-3, 91, 156, 216-17,

314, 315, 342-3, etc. ; perils of,

74^5 ; svirveying by, 320, 329-30
Phvu'i, village, 322
Phuse La. See Pusi pass
Pilgrims, 70, 99, 121
Plants, 290-302, 312, 346-50, etc.
Po-chu, river, 284-5, 297-8, ;323-4
Ponglet, view from, 188, 218, 263
Ponies, 27, 34, 48, 87, 101, etc. See

Transport
Poo, coolie, 75, 113, 156, 178
Popti La, 106, 126-7, 300
Postal arrangements, 96-7, 131, 135
Prayer wheels, 39-40, 53, 91, 98, 110,

174, 289
Primus stoves, 142-3, 154, 208, 315,

331
Pulahari, village, 281
Pulme, 94

Piunori, mountain, 209
Pimagang monastery, 39
Pusi pass, 77, 79, 289 ( =^ Phuse La,

327, 330)

Quiok, pass, 159

Rabkar-chu, river and glacier, 115

Ra-chu, river, 70, 330

RainfaU, 29, 37, 56, 99, 105, 262 £E.

Rawling, Major, 13-14

Reading, Lord, 23

Rebu, village, 87, 103 ; valley, 339

Rhenock, 32

Ri-Ring, mountain, ascendecl, 205-6,

270, 311
Richengong, village, 38, 291
Ronaldshay, Lord, 23, 179
Rongbuk, glacier, 84 ; central and W.

branches explored, 194-220 ; E.

branch, 142, 216-18, 238-40, 247-9,

273-4, 334^6; stream from, 199,

218

— monastery, 83

— valley, 82, 191, 339

Rongkong, village, 63

Rongli, biuigalow, 32, 178

Rongmo, village, 63

Rongshar, valley, 77, 288-U, 298,

325-6
Ruddamlamtso, lake, 121, 128
Rugby, Tibetan boys at, 172
Ryder, Colonel C. H. D., 13, 319

Sakeding, village, 121-52, 127-8
Samchang, pass, 106, 121, 129
Sand dimes, 58, 63-4, 295
Sandakphu, 12, 13
Sanglu, coolie, 254, 256-7
Sedongchen, village, 33-4
Senehal, 29
Serpo-La, 164, 337
ShaoLa, 112, 118, 153
Sharto, village, 75, 330
Shassi ( = New Yatimg), 38
Shatog, village, 162
Shekar-Chote, monaster}'', 67-8, 94
Shekar Dzong, fort and village, 45,

66-7, 96, 295
Sherpa Bhotias, coolies, 24, 188, 224,

252
Shidag, nunnery, 51
Shigatse, 51, 55, 174
Shiling, 161, 188. See Everest, Mount
Shvuig-chu, river, 79
Shurim Tso, lake, 114
Sikkim, siu-vey of, 27, 320-21, 327 :

journey through, 29-36 ; flora of,

ibid
Siniolchimi, moimtain, 46
Sipri mountains, 99
Skis, 158
Snow, 248, 254, 264-8 ; temperature

of, 270; powdery, 171, 231, 243.

256 ; powdery snow and wind, 139,

142, 144, 159, 167-8, 259-60, 271.

etc.
Snow-blindness, 103, 107, 171
Snowfall, 37, 171
Snow line, 56

Snow men, the abominable, 141
Snow shoes, 137, 211-14, 232, 243, 254.

265, 270
Somers Codes, E. L., 16
Somervell, H. T., 312. 313
Strutt, Colonel E. L.,313

356

INDEX

Sun's rays, 270, 308

Survey work of expedition, 179, 312.

See Heron, Morshead, Wheeler
Sutso plain, 99, 321-22

Takda, cantonment, 29

Tamba Sanye, saint, 281, 323

Tameness of animals, 59-60, 76-77, 80,
83, 88, 94, 131

Tang La, 48, 167, 323

Tang-piin-smn, plain, 48

Tangsham, 114, 117, 152 -

Targyeling, village, 324

Tasang, viUage, 79, 289, 327

Tashi Dzom, 95

Tashilumpo monastery, 51, 173

Tashishong, 325

Tatsang, nunnery, 52, 165-6

Teesta Valley, 27, 29-30, 164, 337

Temperatiu-e, 269-70, 308, 342

Tents, airlessness of, 143, 154, 258

Thermometers, 342

Thrashing, 164

Thvmg-La, 282 ; fauna and flora, 297

Tibet, 13, 36, 170 f£. ; geology of, 338 ;
Government, 173-4 ; helps the ex-
pedition, 16, 24, 45, etc.

Tibetans, 170 ff.

Tibetan beer, 57, 125, 156 ; bread, 125;
burial, 74, 133 ; climate, 49, 176 ;
coinage and currency, 47, 59, 123 ;
coolies, 223-4 ; houses, 38, 89, 321 ;
marriage, 74 ; meals, 48, 59, 62, 67,
101, 108, etc. ; mules, 177-9 ; orna-
ments, 73, 101, 107 ; ponies, 27, 55,
101, 176 ; superstitions, 66, 72, 109,
122, 141, 174, 282 ; tea, 41, etc.

Times, newspaper, 19, 156

Tingri, 70-75, 95-101 ; plain of, 70 ;
its fauna and flora, 96, 295-7 ; origin
of name, 282, 323

Tinki, fort and village, 58, 162 ; birds
of, 294 ; pass, 60, 162, 321 ; flowers
of, 295

Trangso Chumbab, rest-house, 65

Transport, 27-8, 34-5, 45, 48, 60, 65,
69, 86, 92, 158-9, 165, 173, 284. See
Coolies, Mules, Yaks
Trintang, village, 326
Tropde, village, 326

Tsakor, village, 70

Tsamda, hot springs, 99, 321

Tsampa, 172-3, 222, 337

Tsang, province, 319

Tsang-po, river, 319-20

Tsering, five peaks, 326

Tsogo, 65, 159

Tsomotretung, lake, 61

Tsong Kapa, monk, 173

Tulsi Dass, gardener, 32

Tulimg, village, 323

Tuna, rest-house, 48

Turubaz Khan, surveyor, 319, 321

Wakefield, Dr. A. W., 313

Waugh, Sir A., 10, 12, 13

Weather. See Monsoon, Rainfall,
Wind

West cwm of Everest, 208-9, 212,' 214

Wheeler, Major, E. O., 20, 26, 52, 164,
252, 320 ; expedition to Kyetrak,
74, 77-81, 98, 330-33 ; to Rongbuk
Valley, 102, 333-36 ; discovers E.
Rongbuk glacier, 217, 240, 247-8,
334 ; arrives at Kharta, 249 ; to
Lhakpa La, 140-44, 257 ; to Chang
La, 144-5, 258-61 ; returns by Kama
VaUey, 146-153, 337, and Teesta
Valley, 164, 337 ; map by, 312, 328,
338 ; accoimt of photographic sur-
vey by, 329-337

Wind, 50, 72, 75, 147-8, 171, 178, 265,
308, 342. See Snow

AVollaston, A. F. R., 20, 26 ; returns
with Raeburn to Sikkim, 56 ; rejoins
at Tingri, 74, 75, 96 ; trip to
Nyenyam, 97, 108, 323-25 ; de-
scribed by him, 281-89 ; at Kliarta,
249; to Lhakpa La, 140 ff., 257-8;
returns by Kama Valley, 146-153,
165, 342 ; natural history notes by,
290-303, 344^350 ; collections, 312

Yaks, 61, 81, 161, 171, 286, 294, etc.
Yaru, river, 56-7, 61-3, 101-2
Yatung, 38-9, 177
Younghusband, Sir F., 1, 15-17, 19, 20

Zachar-chvi. See Dzakar-chu
Zambu, viUage, 81

Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner, Frome and London

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