sible question that cold is felt much more keenly in the thin air
of nineteen thousand feet than it is below. But the north wind was
really our friend, for nothing but a north wind will drive all vapor
from this mountain. Karstens beat his feet so violently and so
continually against the hard snow to restore the circulation that two of
his toe-nails sloughed off afterward. By eleven o'clock we had been
climbing for six hours and were well around the peak, advancing toward
the horseshoe ridge, but even then there were grave doubts if we should
succeed in reaching it that day, it was so cold. A hint from any member
of the party that his feet were actually freezing--a hint expected all
along--would have sent us all back. When there is no sensation left in
the feet at all it is, however, difficult to be quite sure if they be
actually freezing or not--and each one was willing to give the attempt
upon the summit the benefit of the doubt. What should we have done with
the ordinary leather climbing boots? But once entirely around the peak
we were in a measure sheltered from the north wind, and the sun full
upon us gave more warmth. It was hereabouts, and not, surely, at the
point indicated in the photograph in Mr. Belmore Browne's book, that the
climbing party of last year was driven back by the blizzard that
descended upon them when close to their goal. Not until we had stopped
for lunch and had drunk the scalding tea from the thermos bottles, did
we all begin to have confidence that this day would see the completion
of the ascent. But the writer's shortness of breath became more and more
distressing as he rose. The familiar fits of panting took a more acute
form; at such times everything would turn black before his eyes and he
would choke and gasp and seem unable to get breath at all. Yet a few
moments' rest restored him completely, to struggle on another twenty or
thirty paces and to sink gasping upon the snow again. All were more
affected in the breathing than they had been at any time before--it was
curious to see every man's mouth open for breathing--but none of the
others in this distressing way. Before the traverse around the peak just
mentioned, Walter had noticed the writer's growing discomfort and had
insisted upon assuming the mercurial barometer. The boy's eager kindness
was gladly accepted and the instrument was surrendered. So it did not
fall to the writer's credit to carry the thing to the top as he had
wished.