th my limbs. Muscles got out of place in
my calves and stood in aching lumps, till I almost squealed with the
pain of it. I was mortally afraid I should slip, and every time I moved
I called out to Wake to warn him. He saw what was happening and got the
pick of his axe fixed in the ice before I was allowed to stir. He spoke
often to cheer me up, and his voice had none of its harshness. He was
like some ill-tempered generals I have known, very gentle in a battle.

At the end the snow began to fall, a soft powder like the overspill of
a storm raging beyond the crest. It was just after that that Wake cried
out that in five minutes we would be at the summit. He consulted his
wrist-watch. 'Jolly good time, too. Only twenty-five minutes behind my
best. It's not one o'clock.'

The next I knew I was lying flat on a pad of snow easing my cramped
legs, while Wake shouted in my ear that we were in for something bad. I
was aware of a driving blizzard, but I had no thought of anything but
the blessed relief from pain. I lay for some minutes on my back with my
legs stiff in the air and the toes turned inwards, while my muscles
fell into their proper place.

It was certainly no spot to linger in. We looked down into a trough of
driving mist, which sometimes swirled aside and showed a knuckle of
black rock far below. We ate some chocolate, while Wake shouted in my
ear that now we had less step-cutting. He did his best to cheer me, but
he could not hide his anxiety. Our faces were frosted over like a
wedding-cake and the sting of the wind was like a whiplash on our
eyelids.

The first part was easy, down a slope of firm snow where steps were not
needed. Then came ice again, and we had to cut into it below the fresh
surface snow. This was so laborious that Wake took to the rocks on the
right side of the couloir, where there was some shelter from the main
force of the blast. I found it easier, for I knew something about
rocks, but it was difficult enough with every handhold and foothold
glazed. Presently we were driven back again to the ice, and painfully
cut our way through a throat of the ravine where the sides narrowed.
There the wind was terrible, for the narrows made a kind of funnel, and
we descended, plastered against the wall, and scarcely able to breathe,
while the tornado plucked at our bodies as if it would whisk us like
wisps of grass into the abyss.

After that the gorge widened and we had an easier slope, till suddenly