r my whereabouts I should be too
far ahead for them to find me. Nattoo arrived in camp almost
simultaneously with ourselves and had a long tale of woe to relate. He
had been half way up the mountain. The snow was deep and there were huge
and treacherous cracks in the ice. As he was on his way up, an avalanche
had fallen, and it was merely by the skin of his teeth that he had
escaped with his life. This was to him an evil omen, and he had turned
back without reaching the summit of the pass. He seemed scared and worn
out, and declared that it was impossible for us to proceed that way.
Unfortunately the thrilling account of the Kutial's misfortunes had a
depressing effect on my men. What with the intense cold, the fatigue of
carrying heavy loads at high elevations over such rough country, and the
fearful rivers which they dreaded, and so many of which we had crossed,
my carriers became absolutely demoralised at the thought of new hardships
ahead, all the more when I assured them that I did not believe Nattoo,
and that I should go and see for myself.

It was 4.30 in the afternoon, and therefore some time before sunset.
There would be moonlight. I had on that day marched eight miles,[13] and
though the soles of my feet were cut and sore I was not really tired. Our
camp was at an elevation of 16,150 feet, a pretty respectable altitude
considering that the highest mountain in Europe is only 15,781 feet. Dr.
Wilson insisted on accompanying me to the top, and Kachi Ram and a Rongba
coolie volunteered to come as well. Bijesing, the Johari, got on his feet
after some persuasion, and that completed our little exploration party.
Chanden Sing, who was really the only man I could trust, was left in
charge of the camp, with strict orders to punish severely any one who
might attempt to turn back during my absence.

We set out almost immediately after reaching camp, following up stream
the course of the Mangshan River, which is boxed in between high cliffs,
those south of it running in a direction of 100 deg. (b.m.), those to the
north converging to 130 deg.; the two ranges eventually meeting in the
glacier at the foot of Mangshan, about three miles E.-E.S.E. of our camp.
There was no track, and the walking was extremely difficult and
troublesome, over large slippery stones, between which one's feet
constantly slipped and got jammed, straining and injuring one's ankles.
Little trusting my followers, who seemed on the verge of mutiny, I d