they got to the snow ridge they could find no trace of the steps they
had made the day before, and had to cut them over again. At this
point they were in sight of the watchers far below at Camp 3 on the
glacier. Major Morshead was suffering severely and could only move a
few steps at a time. As the night drew in, lightning began to
flicker from the clouds in the west, but happily the wind did not
rise. They were soon at the crevasses and the ice cliff, and, as the
air was calm, it was possible to light a lantern to guide them. They
hunted desperately to find the fixed rope, which would take them down
to the terrace, where they could see their five tents awaiting them,
but the rope was covered with snow, and at that moment the lantern
gave out. Happily somebody hooked up the buried rope, and after that
it was plain going to the tents.
They reached them at 11.30, and could find no fuel or cooking-pots.
Their mouths were parched with thirst, and the best beverage they
could concoct was a mixture of jam and snow with frozen condensed
milk. Mr. Mallory ascribes to the influence of this stuff "the
uncontrollable shudderings, spasms of muscular contraction in belly
and back, which I suffered in my sleeping-bag, and which caused me to
sit up and inhale again great whiffs from the night air, as though
the habit of deep breathing had settled upon me indispensably."
The four men did not waste time next morning on the North Col, for
they were tormented by thirst and hunger. It took them six hours to
reach Camp 3, for they had to make a staircase beneath the new snow
which the porters could use, in order to fetch down their baggage,
since they did not intend to spend the night at Camp 3 without their
sleeping-bags. At midday they were back in comparative comfort, with
certain solid conclusions as the result of the venture. One was as
to the difficulties of new snow and the precariousness of the
weather; another was as to the unexpected capacity of the porters.
But the most important was as to the need of oxygen. They had
reached a point very little below 27,000 feet, and that left 2,000
feet to be surmounted before the summit was reached. For success, a
higher camp was needed than Camp 5, and the men who started from it
must, if possible, have an extra stimulus to counteract the malign
effects of altitude. If Everest chose to clothe itself with air
containing less oxygen than a man needed, the defect must be
supplied. If a climber used extra clothes to counteract the cold, he
must use some extra device to supplement the atmosphere.
IV
We come now to the second attempt of 1922, in which oxygen was used.
Certain eminent scientists at home had held that Everest could never
be conquered without its aid, and the expedition had brought a very
full equipment--oxygen stored in light steel cylinders, and a
somewhat complex apparatus for its use. There had been oxygen drill
parades among the party, and perhaps it might have been well had they
used it straight away for one main attempt, instead of making the
first effort without it. Unfortunately the apparatus needed
overhauling, and it was not till 22nd May, when Mr. Mallory and his
party were coming down from the mountain, that four sets were ready
for use. As to the legitimacy of such a device in mountaineering,
Mr. Finch's arguments are final.
"Few of us, I think, who stop to ponder for a brief second, will deny
that our very existence in this enlightened twentieth century, with
all its amenities of modern civilization is ... 'artificial.' Most
of us have learned to respect progress, and to appreciate the meaning
and advantages of adaptability. For instance, it is a fairly firmly
established fact that warmth is necessary to life. The mountaineer,
acting on this knowledge, conserves, as far as possible, his animal
heat by wearing especially warm clothing. No one demurs; it is the
commonsense thing to do. He pours his hot tea from a thermos
bottle--and never blushes! Nonchalantly, without fear of adverse
criticism, he doctors up his insides with special heat- and
energy-giving foods and stimulants! From the sun's ultra-violet rays
and the wind's bitter cold he boldly dares to protect his eyes with
Crookes' anti-glare glasses. Further, he wears boots that to the
average layman look ridiculous! The use of caffeine, to supply just
a little more buck to an almost worn-out frame, is not cavilled at,
despite its being a synthetic drug, the manufacture of which involves
the employment of complicated plant and methods. If science could
prepare oxygen in tabloid form, or supply it to us in thermos flasks
that we might imbibe it like our hot tea, the stigma of
'artificiality' would, perhaps, be effectually removed. But when it
has to be carried in special containers, its whole essence is held to
be altered, and, by using it, the mountaineer is taking a sneaking,
unfair advantage of the mountain! In answer to this grave charge, I
would remind the accuser that, by the inhalation of a little
life-giving gas, the climber does not smooth away the rough rocks of
the mountain, or still the storm; nor is he an Aladdin who, by a rub
on a magic ring, is wafted by invisible agents to his goal. Oxygen
renders available more of his store of energy, and so hastens his
steps, but it does not, alas! fit the wings of Mercury to his feet.
The logic of the anti-oxygenist is surely faulty."
On 20th May, Mr. Finch and Captain Geoffrey Bruce arrived at Camp 3,
accompanied by Tejbir, one of the four Gurkha non-commissioned
officers lent to the expedition. There they found the oxygen
apparatus in bad condition, and had to tinker at it for four days.
During this period they made a trial trip to Camp 4 on the North Col,
using oxygen. A good deal of new step-cutting had to be done, for
fresh snow had fallen, but in spite of that, the oxygen enabled them
to get to the col in three hours and to return in fifty minutes, with
halts to take three dozen photographs.
On 24th May, Mr. Finch, Captain Bruce, Captain Noel, the official
photographer, and Tejbir, with twelve porters, went up to the North
Col and camped for the night. Next morning, the 25th, brought a
clear, windy sky, and at eight o'clock the twelve porters, with the
camp outfit, provisions for one day, and the oxygen cylinders,
started up the North ridge, followed an hour and a half later by Mr.
Finch, Captain Bruce, and Tejbir, each carrying a load of over thirty
pounds. All fifteen used oxygen. It was their intention to make a
camp above 26,000 feet; but after one o'clock the wind freshened and
snow began, so it was deemed advisable, in order to ensure the safe
return of the porters to the North Col, to camp at 25,500 feet. The
camping place was no better than that which Mr. Mallory had found;
the place was on the actual crest of the ridge, for the west side was
scourged by wind, and there was no good position on the east side.
The tent was pitched on a little platform on the edge of precipices
falling to the East Rongbuk Glacier, 4,000 feet below. The tent was
secured as well as possible by guy-ropes; but when the climbers got
into their sleeping-bags it was both blowing and snowing hard, and
minute flakes filled the tent. Snow was melted, and a tepid meal was
cooked--a really warm meal was out of the question, for at that
altitude water boils at so low a temperature that a man can hold his
hand in it without discomfort.
As the night closed in, the two climbers comforted themselves with
the assurance that next day they would get to the top. But after
sunset the wind increased to a gale so furious that even the ground
sheet with the three men lying on it was lifted completely off the
earth. They blocked up the small openings as well as they could, but
before midnight everything inside was covered with spindrift. It was
impossible to sleep. They had to be constantly on the watch to
prevent the flaps being torn open and to hold the tent down; for they
realized that if once the gale got hold of their shelter the whole
outfit would be blown on to the glacier below.
Few adventurers have ever spent a more awful night. Tejbir had all
the placidity of his race, and Captain Bruce, who was making his
first serious mountaineering expedition on the highest of the world's
mountains, was as cheerful as if he had been sleeping in an ordinary
Alpine _cabane_. Here is Mr. Finch's own description:--
"By one o'clock on the morning of the 26th the gale reached its
maximum. The wild flapping of the canvas made a noise like that of
machine-gun fire. So deafening was it that we could scarcely hear
each other speak. Later there came interludes of comparative lull,
succeeded by bursts of storm more furious than ever. During such
lulls we took it in turn to go outside to tighten up slackened
guy-ropes, and also succeeded in tying down the tent more firmly with
our Alpine rope. It was impossible to work in the open for more than
three or four minutes at a stretch, so profound was the exhaustion
induced by this brief exposure to the fierce cold wind."
Morning broke with no lull in the violence of the elements. They
prepared a make-shift meal, and spent the forenoon hours in desperate
anxiety. At midday the storm seemed to reach the summit of its fury,
and matters were made more awkward by a stone cutting a great hole in
the tent. Mercifully an hour later the wind suddenly dropped, and
the anxious occupants of the tent could prospect the weather.
The sensible thing would have been to make a retreat to the North
Col, but there was no thought of giving up. The party were unanimous
in resolving to hang on and make the attempt the following day. With
the last of their fuel they cooked supper--a frugal meal, for, since
they had only carried provisions for one day, they were now on very
short rations. As they settled down for the night voices were heard
outside, and the porters from the North Col appeared, bringing
thermos flasks of hot beef-tea and tea, sent by Captain Noel. In a
little more comfort they tried to sleep. All three, however, were
strained and weak from their labours of the past twenty-four hours,
and they felt a numbing cold creeping up their limbs. Mr. Finch had
the happy inspiration to use oxygen, and so arranged the apparatus
that each could breathe a small quantity throughout the night. "The
result was marvellous. We slept well and warmly. Whenever the tube
delivering the gas fell out of Bruce's mouth as he slept, I could see
him stir uneasily in the eerie greenish light of the moon as it
filtered through the canvas. Then, half unconsciously replacing the
tube, he would fall once more into a peaceful slumber."
Next morning, the 27th, they woke well and hungry, and after a
struggle with their boots, which were frozen stiff, started off at
6.30, Captain Bruce and Mr. Finch carrying each over forty pounds,
and Tejbir some fifty pounds. Their plan was to take Tejbir as far
as the North-East shoulder, and there to relieve him of his load and
send him back. It was cold clear weather, and the wind was not too
strong. Presently, however, it began to freshen, and after they had
gained a few hundred feet it was Tejbir who showed the first signs of
weakness. He collapsed entirely, and had to be relieved of his
cylinders and sent back. The height was about 26,000 feet, the
highest point which any native had yet reached.
In order to move more quickly, Mr. Finch and Captain Bruce dispensed
with the rope. The rocks were quite easy, and at 26,500 feet they
had passed two admirable sites for a camp. But the wind was steadily
increasing in force, and they were compelled to leave the ridge and
traverse out across the great north face. This was bad luck, for the
ridge was easy climbing and the face was not. The stratification of
the rocks was most awkward, and it was hard to find any good
footholds. The climbers were unroped, and it was a severe test of
Captain Bruce, who had had no mountaineering experience to give him
confidence. Sometimes they were on treacherous slopes, sometimes on
more treacherous snow, and they often had to cross heaps of scree
that moved with every step. They stopped occasionally to replace an
empty cylinder of oxygen with a new one, each of which meant five
pounds off their load. Presently the aneroid gave their height as
27,000 feet. They now ceased traversing, and began to climb straight
upward to a point on the North-East ridge, half way between the
shoulder and the summit. Soon they were at 27,300 feet, and the top
of Everest was the only mountain they could see without looking down.
The peaks which had seemed so formidable from the glacier had now
sunk into insignificant humps. They were 1,700 feet below the
summit, well within half a mile of it, and they could distinguish
stones and a patch of scree just under its highest point.
But it was very clear that they could go no farther. Weak with
hunger and the anxiety and labours of the past forty-eight hours, it
was plain to Mr. Finch that if they went on even for another 500 feet
they would not both get back alive. Like wise and brave men they
decided to retreat. It was now about midday, and for greater safety
they roped together. At first they followed their old tracks, and
then moved towards the North ridge at a point higher than where they
had left it. They reached the ridge at two o'clock, and there
reduced their burden by dumping four oxygen cylinders at a place to
which future climbers could be directed.
The weather was getting worse. A violent wind from the west was
bringing up mist, but happily there was no snow. Half an hour later
they reached their camp of the night before, where they found Tejbir
sound asleep, wrapped up in all the three sleeping-bags. The porters
from the North Col were a mile below, and Tejbir was instructed to go
down with them. The rest of the descent was a nightmare. The knees
of the climbers knocked together, and their limbs did not seem to
respond to the direction of the brain. Often they staggered and
slipped, and often they were forced to sit down. But at four o'clock
in the afternoon they reached the North Col. Happily they still felt
famished; they had not yet reached the limit of a man's strength when
hunger vanishes. At the North Col they had hot tea and spaghetti,
and three-quarters of an hour later they started off for Camp 3 in
the company of Captain Noel. The journey was made in record
time--forty minutes--and at 5.30 they had reached Camp 3, having
descended since midday 6,000 feet.
That evening made amends for the long hours of famine. "Four whole
quails, truffled in _paté de foie gras_, followed by nine sausages,
left me asking for more. The last I remember of that long day was
going to sleep, warm in the depths of our wonderful sleeping-bag,
with the remains of a tin of toffee tucked away in the crook of my
elbow."
Captain Brace's feet were badly frost-bitten, but Mr. Finch had come
off scot-free, which was neither more nor less than a physical
miracle.
As Captain Bruce, on the way down to the base camp, turned to take
his last close view of Everest, his farewell was: "Just you wait, old
thing. You will be for it soon." It was the logical conclusion. He
and Mr. Finch had got to 27,300 feet after exertions and deprivations
which might well have unfitted a man for the ascent of the Rigi.
These misfortunes were accidental and not inevitable. The value--the
superlative value--of oxygen had been abundantly proved. It may be
fairly said that the 1922 expedition, though it had not set foot on
the summit, had solved the secret of Everest. The mountain could
almost certainly be climbed, provided a little luck attended the
climbers. Now that the quality of the native porters has been
proved, there seems no reason why, with the help of oxygen, a sixth
camp could not be arranged on one of the flat places under 27,000
feet which Mr. Finch noted. A night in such a camp would be no more
trying than a night at 25,000 feet. If the climbers, starting from
27,000 feet, and, after a good night, fell in with reasonable
weather, there seems little doubt that the remaining 2,000 feet could
be ascended and the peak conquered, with a good prospect of a safe
return on the same day to the North Col. There remains, of course,
the possibility of physical breakdown, such as happened to Major
Morshead and Tejbir. But against this may be set the fact that Mr.
Mallory, Mr. Somervell, Mr. Norton, Mr. Finch, and Captain Bruce, at
great altitudes and after severe physical labour, were not specially
distressed, and suffered no bad effects afterwards.
The conquest of Everest will always remain one of the most difficult
adventures which man can undertake. But it is a reasonable
adventure, and not a piece of crazy foolhardiness, which could only
succeed by the help of the one chance in a million. The two
reconnaissance expeditions have shown that for its achievement every
available human resource is necessary. But granted the utilization
of these resources, and the possibility, which our familiarity with
the lower slopes may soon permit, of waiting upon a spell of kindly
weather, the ultimate conquest would seem to be assured. The secret
of Everest has been solved. We know now that there is a way to the
top, and we know what that way is.*
* The narratives on which the above account is based will be found in
_Mount Everest: The Reconnaissance_ (Edwin Arnold, 1921), and the
papers by Mr. Mallory and Mr. Finch in the _Alpine Journal_ of
November, 1922.
THE END.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT
THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS.