THE SEASON'S WORK IN THE SOUTHERN ALPS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2130, 20 December 1894, Page 17

THE SEASON'S WORK IN THE SOUTHERN ALPS.

(Specially Written for Otaijo Witness

Christmas Number of IS.V/.)

B<l MALCOLM IWSS, lice-president. New Zealand Alpine Club.

A few years have worked wonders in mountain craft in New Zealand. In the early days of the settlement the high alps of New Zealand, in so far as the denizens of the plains and valleys were concerned, were shrouded in mystery and regarded with awe. In 1882 the spell was broken, for the llev. W. 8. Green, A.C., with those splendid Swiss climbers Boss and Kaufannm, appeared on the scene and laid siege to Aorangi. In the face of many difficulties and almost insuperable obstacles they eventually succeeded in attaining the topmost crest, and but for stress of weather would no doubt have gained the actual summit.

Mr Green was the pioneer of alpine climbing in New Zealand; but immediately following in his footsteps came a few hardy enthusiastic New Zealanders, who, without guides or porters such as the British climber is able to procure, have learnt the art of mountain craft, and done work — exploratory, scientific, and gymnastic — that has attracted attention in the mother country, and even on the Continent.

It is of the work done by this contingent of Maoriland alpinists during the past season that I would now, with due modesty, wish to write.

The ball was opened on JNovcr-i 1 or Li by Messrs Mannering and Dixon with another attempt to reach the summit of Mount Cook. They were joined at the Hermitage by Mr T. C. Fyfe. Mannering was not in the best of form, so it was decided that Fyfe and Dixon should proceed from the hut at the 13all Glacier to the "bivouac," at an elevation of some 7000 ft, on what is known as the Haast Ridge. The greater part of the journe} T to the bivouac lies up almost vertical rocks or slope sof loose stones with couloirs, or steep, narrow gullies of soft snow, in between. Down these couloirs on a warm day avalanches may be easily started, and care lias to be taken in crossing or ascending them. On this occasion the climbers took with them '"ski," or Norwegian snow shoes (pronounced shee). These were some Ct't in length and designed for crossing the soft snows of the great plateau which feeds the Iloehstetter Icefall. The}' were all right when they got them on to the plateau, but there ■was some diih'culty in getting them there. To quote Dixon, <; It is not easy work getting up to the bivouac, especially if the climber happens to be embarrassed with a 451b swag and four awkward six-feet " ski " lashed on to it in a manner most convenient to catch every overhanging and protruding rock. Swags, and especially " ski," hare a nasty habit of getting in the way of things, and it is not reassuring to a nervous amateur to find that just as he is wriggling up over the brink of a 60ft precipice those infernal " ski " have jambed themselves against a rock with sufficient force to almost throw him off his balance." But then Mannering, Dixon, and Fyfe are not nervous amateurs.

Arrived at the bivouac, the party found the tinned provisions and a piece of cheese that had been exposed to the , weather with the rest of the cache since December 1890 quite good. On a | former occasion they had to dig their provisions up from underneath several > feet of solid ice, but now they were able to get at them without diinculty.

A few words in description of this bivouac. Under a great stone that overhangs some Bft Gin is a little flat

slow and careful climb over the rocks, with considerable difficulty in getting on and off. Fyfe and Dixon, having climbed to the plateau to try the gentle art of " skilobning," returned to the bivouac and thence to the hut. Next day they again ascended to the bivouac — this time in company with Mannering. Half-past 6' found the three climbers making snug for the night,

with great clouds rolling up the Tasman Valley at their feet, anon shrouding them in culd and desolate gloom.

The party arranged to start for the peak at midnight, and at 11.30, to quote Dixon's account, " Mannering, with a banker's preciseness, sounded a reveille on a pannikin, and then turned into his sleeping-bag again, leaving me, a shivering cJtef, in charge. What was to be done ? One man cried aloud for tea, another for Liebig, and the third

be crossed. At the corner of the Linda Glacier the ice was broken into enormous seracs, the masses being in places 250 ft high. Lately-fallen snow had covered many of the crevasses, and, as it got softer with the heat of the sun as the day wore on, the members of the party were continually breaking through into the hidden crevasses. The labour of breaking new steps also became excessive, and as Mannering was not feeling very well it was decided to beat a retreat. This was just round the turn of the Linda Glacier, at an elevation of about 9500 f t; but it is doubtful if success could have been attained even if all the party were lit and well, seeing that the mountain was in anything but good condition for climbing. Mannering, in a private letter to me afterwards, mentioned that the mountain was " aliveywith avalanches," and one ,

quickly arrested his attention, and in a few minutes 1 was with him. He proved to be a young fellow who was then engaged in the construction of the additions to the Hermitage— Mr T. C. Fyfe, of Timaru — and that he loved the mountains for their own sake was proved by the fact that, while his companions were spending an idle day in the valley below, he had gone a-rnountain scrambling by himself. I invited him to share mj r company and my lunch, and together we started oil' in the direction of Mount Scaly. He knew nothing of alpine climbing, and I remember I was rather amused at his hesitation in making a traverse of one or two easy snow slopes that we had to cross, and later on at his joy on my introducing him to the mysteries of a standing glissade. Two or three seasons later I had the pleasure of his

place 6ft square at its base, around which has been erected a rampart of stones some 15in high. Sitting under this rock j r ou can throw the proverbial biscuit into the couloir on one side and it would slide right down into the llochstetter Glacier thousands of feet below ; while if you threw it a few yards on your other side it would slide away down a large couloir on the opposite side of the mountain altogether. The position is as exposed as a bivouac could well be. The view is as magnificent as the position is exposed.

Under this rock, their day's workdone, the climbers laid them down. It had been fog and rain alternately all day, and as night settled over their lonely stormexposed bivouac they fully expected to ' find themselves covered with Gin or ! Sin of snow in the morning, for the flakes were gently falling as ' darkness set in. From the bivouac to i the plateau there is some very difficult i work. You can take your choice of steep rocks or steep snow-slopes. If the snow is in good condition the climber will take to it. If it is soft I and unsafe there is nothing for it but a '

for desiccated soup, while all three grunted at the vicissitudes of existence under the circumstances. However, by combining Liebig and desiccated soup in a full billy, 1 have the high compli1 ment paid me of satisfying all three and getting badly smoked into the bargain. At 12.30 we found the snow crisp and hard, and with a bright moon to aid us, thought our prospects of success pretty good.''' They reached the dome at 4 a.m. The views were glorious. Mount Tasman, in the early morning snn, shone in dazzling splendour. It was a fine sight, hung with hundreds of glaciers, which, ' from the Linda Glacier and plateau, j seemed right overhead. The crevasses , ' were much more formidable than on i ! the occasion on which Mannering and . Dixon reached their highest point some | ' years ago. There were great, gaping i i gulches of unknown depth in the ice, I | extending right across the glacier from | the foot of Mount Tasman to Mount Cook. A very circuitous route had to ( be taken in consequence, and a lot of time was wasted in hunting for snowbridges over which the crevasses might

splendid one was seen coming dovn Mount Tasman. '• For a moment," s ivs Dixon in the Alpine .Journal, " we did ' not knew whether to run or not, but on second thoughts we siw that the avalance had too much level snowlield to cross. On it came under a great square canopy of ice-dust that completely hid everything else from view, till it brought up among the intervening seracs. Sunburnt and disgu&ted we retraced our steps to tho bivouac, and in turn to the Fifth Camp once more, to hide our faces in shame at having been beaten back ignominiously fpom the face of the monarch of the Southern Alps.'* So ended another unsuccessful attempt to tread the summit snows of Aorangi, but, if I mistake not, before long — perhaps before these linos are in print — the conquest of Aorangi will be chronicled. Some few years ago, during one of my visits to the Mount Cook district, having a da}' to spare, I started off alone on an expedition on the Scaly Range. I had climbed about 6000 ft when I was surprised to see on the rocks above me another solitary climber. Aloud jodel

companionship on two unsuccessful expeditions on Mont De In ISuche, and there and then singled him out as likely with a little practice to develop into a first-class alpine climber. As a rock climber even at that date he could hold his own with most men. {Since that date Fyfe has done a good deal of climbing, and his last season's work is a record of which many a crack Swiss climber might well be proud. His first adventure was the ascent of the Footstool, which he successfully accomplished in company with Mr George Graham. The 'Footstool — a peak of 9,073ft — is generally regarded as a part of Mount Sefton, though it is really a distinct peak, there being a well-marked gap intervening between it and the peak proper of Sefton. A recent fall of snow had left the mountain in rather difficult trim for climbing, but^ on the evening of January 30, their time being limited, the two mountaineers decided to make an attempt, and everything was got in readiness for an early start on the following morning. They left the Hermitage at 3 a.m., and crossed the Mueller Glacier just as the first streak of dawn appeared. Striking up the bed of a mountain torrent that issues from the Tewaewae Glacier, good foothold was found on the water- woi*n rocks as far as the "snout" of the Tewaewae Glacier. From that point to the first snow-slope they proceeded up very steep rock slopes, and at 7 a.m. the dome that caps the spur was reached. At this point the full glare of the morning sun was met. The climbers halted for a few minutes' silent admiration of Aorangi, which, bathed in the rosy light of morn, must have been a splendid sight. The rope was now put on and an advance made up a fairly steep snow slope. r lhe snow at first was in good order, but soon got patchy, soft snow alternating every few yards with glazed ice where the wind had been at work. However, good progress was made for half an hour, and then the way was barred by several wide sehrunds, which in December Fyfe had crossed without difficulty. Now it was only with much zigzagging and consequent loss of time that they got over. Their plan was to follow up the eastern arete to the height of the saddle immediately below the peak, then cross over to the saddle and skirt along to the northern arete, up which they were to make the final assault. A ret'onnaisance made from Mount "Wakefield, on the opposite range, led to the conclusion that the eastern arete (or ridge) was quite practicable, the rocks jutting out at irregular intervals with stretches of snow between. On tackling this rock, however, it was found to be very rotten. It crumbled away at the slightest touch, and as progress was impossible without dislodging splinters of rock the climbers had to keep as close together as possible. The higher they got the worse the rock became, until at last they had to move with the utmost caution. A few hundred feet farther they were suddenly brought to a full stop by the ridge, which became so sharp and rotten that it would have been rash to have attempted proceeding farther in that direction. At this point there was an almost vertical drop of 300 ft on either side, so that a direct descent to the glaciers was impracticable. A council of war was held, with the result that the climbers decided to retrace their steps, descend to the Eugenic Glacier, and endeavour to reach a steep snow slope that would take them on to the arete again, above the worst of the rock. Accordingly they descended some 700 ft, experiencing a nasty bit of rock-work in a " chimney," and then they again started to ascend, keeping well away from the arOte, as the melting of the fresh snow was bringing the stones down in volleys. The glacier was much broken, and some rather risky jumps had to be made over sbrac ice. Here a slight mishap, which might have seriously affected the results of the expedition, occurred. Owing to the jolting caused by jumping from

one ice block to another, the straps of the rucksack became detached, and the provisions started off on a headlong career down the slope — some into and some just on the verge o£ a crevasse. At last the end of the snow slope was reached, but what appeared from above to be a small gap in the rock proved to be really an overhanging face 15ft high. To make matters worse, the snow from above began to avalanche. Crouching underneath the face, it poured right over their heads with a roar, completely filling a schrund a few feet lower. Once more baffled, they beat a hasty retreat to a place of safety.

The only possible chance now, and that a remote one, was to scale the almost perpendicular side of the arete, and regain its ridge. To get up looked possible, but the coming down would be far more difficult. For a few minutes they wavered, then without a word started to climb upwards. Owing to the steepness of the face they were now perfectly safe from falling stones. The face was fully 200 ft high, and it was a good hour's careful climb before they again stood on the ridge. The arete from here was just climbable — soft powdery snow filling up the hollows between the rocks— and into this they sometimes sank up to the waist. Keeping on the ridge of the arete, the worst of the rocks were at last left behind, the tops •widening out and being covered with fine scree. They now pushed up to a height equal to that of the saddle, and then decided to traverse. The most serious obstacle to this was a couloir, down which the snow threatened to avalanche. It was covered to a depth of 2ft by a coating of snow, through which they had to cut right into the clear ice below. Graham anchoring, Fyfe started cutting steps across. The couloir was so steep that the back of the steps had to be cut fully 18in into the clear ice. When they were almost across, the ■whole of the snow lying below went avalanching off with a hiss, completely baring the slope. The snow above luckily held. Plying the axe steadily, the other side was reached in safety, and they were soon making good progress over a basin that lay between them and the saddle. The sight as they topped the crest was one to be long remembered. To the right towered Aorangi, with its hanging glaciers gloriously shining in the noonday sun. Below lay the Copland, a tributary of the Karangarua river, at the mouth of which could be distinguished the white line of breakers rolling shoreward.

Descending a few hundred feet on the western side, they skirted along until the northern arete was reached, and, when within 500 ft of the summit, the rock became very bad again, falling in masses at their touch. One piece came whizzing down and struck Graham on the head, inflicting a nasty wound. The blow was a severe one, and Fyfe was doubtful if he could proceed any farther ; but, pulling himself together, Graham said that he was quite capable of doing the remainder ; so upward they climbed.

The rock was now terribly bad, and had they not been so near the top they would most certainly have turned back. The final pinch was very steep, but at last their efforts were rewarded, and after 11 hours' steady climbing they stood on the top. So sharp was the ridge that had there been any wind it would have been impossible for them to have stood upright. The view was one that baffled description ; but the view of the peak of Sefton — a sheer rock face of over 2000ft — was startling in its majesty.

" Clustering around," writes Mr Fyfe, " and sunk into comparative insignificance by the majestic Aorangi, were Mount Stokes, Mount Darnpier, St. David's Dome, and the beautiful Silberhorn of Tasraan just peeping out from behind. Over the Mount Cook Range could be seen the whole of the Malte Brun, and part of the Liebig Itange, the Hochstetter Dome, and peaks innumerable at the head of the Murchison Glacier. Looking east were Lakes Tekapo and Pukaki, with the Grampians away in the far background. Southward the view was unbounded,

maze of crevasses intervened. Fyfe was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that he had failed, when ho conceived the idea of scaling the peak right up the vertical-looking fare in front of him.

Accordingly he prepared to put his plan into execution. Descendin 0 ' a snow slope for a few hundred feet he reached a small schrund, but with a heavy stone in either hand to assist him, he made a standing spring and landed safely on the soft snow on the other side. Crossing the snow basin below, sume crevasses were met with, but these were first tested, the climber making use of his axe, stuck in the snow, and the rope, which was passed round the head of the axe twice. A narrow snow gully promised easy access to the rocks, but, as it was raked with falling stones, it was deemed wise to keep to the rocks to the north of this couloir. A gap between the snow and the rocks, however, prevented this, so there was nothing for it but to chance the couloir and leave it as soon as possible. At the first schrund this was done, a safe place being found under an overhanging face of rock. The

summit was still over 1000 ft above. At this stage Fyfe removed his boots and put on rubber-soled shoes, which gave him a good hold, and but for which he states the peak would still be unclimbed.

It Avas now real hand and foot climbing, and a mistake would have been fatal. The rock-work afforded great variety, and in one place a stratum of very rotten slate running

ward route, he kept more to the left, but found himself in difficulties. Twice he had to pass the rope over projecting rocks and lower himself over faces where a slip would have landed him on the Darwin Glacier, 1000 ft below.

When the slaty rock was reached he kept still more to the left, and struck the couloir just where the snow commenced. Seven hundred feet from the foot lie heard an ominous sound, like the report of firearms, and knew he was in danger. Casting one glance behind, he saw some rocks starting to come right down from the summit of the couloir. His only chance lay in reaching the foot sooner than the rocks. At the foot the soft snow would stop them. The couloir was steep, the snow hard, and by lying flat on his back he went down as if falling through air. The small schrunds he does not remember crossing at all, as it was impossible to keep his eyes open. At the bottom he got quickly to his feet, turning round just in time to see a whole shower of small stones bury themselves in the snow, and one or two larger pieces roll right to his feet.

The rest of the descent was c-d&y, and some fine glissading was got by keeping more to the right. The Tasman Glacier was reached at 8.50 p.m., only two hours and twenty-five minutes from the top. The rest of the wwar} r was simply a toil down the glacier, the bivouac being reached at 5.5 p.m.

Dr Franz Kronecker, an enthusiastic German Alpine Clubbist, visited JS'ew Zealand this year for the

of Glacier Peak. On this field 200 steps had to be cur, and a small bergschrund crossed by a snow l>riu'g/\

By 11.. '30 a.m. the mountaineers were standing on the top of the dome, at the height of <S<S27ft above the sea, and 4000 ft above the bivouac. Before them rose the main range in icy splendour, and above, 13<)0ft higher, towered Glacier Peak, connected with the dome by an icy edge, broken by many large bergschrunds. The party went on loOft farther, but were stopped by a broad bergschrund crossable only by a frail bridge. Jlad that been crossed, and its side, 60ft high and almost perpendicular, scaled, little further progress could have been made, for, besides other bergschrunds beyond, the pedestal of the peak, of black rock, was 500 ft high, and looked quite inaccessible.

From where the party stood the view was exceedingly grand. Mount Cook could not be seen, but the Silherhorn and Mount Tasman were very close on the left. Mount Haidmger, an enormous bleak, rocky wall, towered, seemingly from this side, inaccessible, and "so near, and yet so far," rose Glacier Peak.

On the right were to be seen peak after peak, the only ones marked on the map being Mount Spencer and Mount Jervois, two rocky precipitous mountains. North-east rose the beautiful De la Beche and one of the Minarets, and to the right the two white tops of the Hochstetter Dom. To the east far below lay the ice-stream of the Tasman, which could be traced as far

8400 ft. The ridge on which the mountaineers now stood seemed to run in an unbroken line to the top of Mount Darwin, and hopes were hio"h as to an easy ascent. "Distance lends enchantment to the view," alas ! for soon a break of 1 00 ft deep in the ridcre obliged them to seek another route.

It was decided to climb down to the second snowfield. The snowthere mainly was good, and soon the foot of the rocks was reached. From here to the top the route lay through deep couloirs, which, near the top, were fdled with deep new snow. After an exhausting climb by 11 a.m. the top was gamed — at least what till then Dr Kronecker had imagined to be the top. That, however, lay north-eastward — a continuation of the ridge, and quite 500 ft higher.

Dr Kronecker was much exhausted, but urged on by his companions, he attacked the final piece of the ridge, which was difficult and dangerous. It rose, ice-glazed, between fearfully steep precipices. At last at 1 p.m. the summit was gained, and the aneroid showed a height of 0,900 ft. A much finer view than that from the Hochstetter Dom was obtained from Mount Darwin. To the west, ocean and coast were cloud-covered, but all elsewhere was clear. Northwards lay the Hochs tetter Dom ; eastward gleamed the upper basin of the great Murchison Glacier ; below stretched the Tasman Glacier, seen for its whole length ; and farther south lay soft blue hills and a glimpse of Tekapo — a lovely contrast to the ice world around. Grandest of all was the Mount Cook Range, seen in

pealc after peak appearing until they faded away with the softening mists of distance upon them "

There is not space in this article to refer at any length to the descent; Bufllce it to say that it was carefully and successfully accomplished.

Not content with conquering the Footstool, Fyfe, on the morning of March 7, started off alone with the object of making the ascent of Mount Malte Brun — a splendid rock peak 10,421 ft high on the range that skirts the eastern side of the Great Tasman Glacier. The previous expedition was rather a risky one to be undertaken by only two climbers ; but this ascent ot Malte Brun, undertaken by only one man, is certainly against all the canons of mountaineering. However, Fyfe made the attempt, and — succeeded. The ascent proper was begun at 6.30 a.m. The route chosen lay up the rocky spur that forms the southern boundary of the Darwin Glacier. Out of the neve fields of this glacier rises the final peak of Malte Hrun, consisting of an almost perpendicular wall of rock fully 1500 ft high. For the first thousand feet or so of the climb no great difficulty was experienced; but from the end of the spur the peak looked anything but promising. To cross the Darwin Glacier and reach the northern arete was out of^ the question, for a

horizontally across the peak proved troublesome, and was so sharp that it cut the climber's hands severely. At 12.50 p.m., however, he stood on the lowest point of the peak.

Malte Brim's summit is formed of five peaks, with well-marked gaps between, about 50ft of difference being between the highest and the lowest, and all but the highest, which lies in the middle, being snow capped. A dozen steps were cut, and Fyfe stood on the summit, where a bitter south wind obliged him to make his stay short, though the view was indescribably grand. At his feet lay on either hand the two largest glaciers of New Zealand, the Tasman and the Murchison, with their numerous tributaries. Bej'ond the Mount Cook Kange lay the Mueller Glacier, and away north peak after peak appeared. The West Coast was visible for miles, but a haze hid the east. After a rest of 15 minutes Fyfe returned to the next point, where he built a cairn, leaving in it his knife with his name and the date scratched on the handle. By the time the lowest point was reached he was obliged to explore the rucksack, and here he had the first food he had eaten since leaving the bivouac. At this spot he built another cairn, thinking it Jess likely to be blown away, and then started to descend. To better his up-

purpose of doing some mountaineering, and on March IS he, accompanied by Fyfe from Timaru and Jack Clark from the Hermitage, started up the Tasman Valley. He intended, if possible, to climb Mount Darwin, but finding, when the hut was reached, that much new snow had fallen on that range, it was resolved to attempt Glacier Peak, which rises due west of De la Beche.

The weather was charming, and at 5.30 a.m. the party started from the De la Heche bivouac, and soon readied the foot of the rocks. After this for a time the ascent was easy, being for the first part over shingle, and afterwards on solid rock. By 7.45 a.m. the party had reached a height of 6000 ft, and used the rope, as the slope was steep. Many small couloirs were climbed, but good foothold was found. Suddenly the way seemed barred by smooth rock}', almost perpendicular walls. Tin's part of the peak is easily seen from the bivouac, the rocks being of a remarkable red colour. At first it seemed an impracticable barrier, but there was no alternative save retreat, and it was decided to attempt the cliff. For loOft it was very dangerous, the stone being rotten, but after it was less steep, and on this slope new snow had fallen. Hy 10 a.m. a steep snowfield was reached. This culminated in a snowy dome, and beyond rose the top

Photo by Burton Bros., Duuedin.

had to be crept over most cautiously. At last the main ridge was readied, and from there the majestic pyramid of Malte Brun could be seen. Beyond was climbing on bad and soft rock, but that conquered, the second step of the ridge was

gained, and a height of almost

as its lower valley witli its network of river branches, and beyond the glacier rose the rocky Liebig Range, Mount Darwin, and the mighty head of Malte Brun. At 12.30 p.m. the descent was begun, by 5 p.m. the western edge of the Ivron Prinz Rudolf Glacier was gained, and by 6.30 p.m. the bivouac. Hy choosing the northern spur instead of the southern, the steep and dangerous rock face was avoided.

I)r Kronecker, as the first to make the ascent of this pretty little dome, exercised his prerogative and named it the " Kma's Dome" after his sister-in-law. As this trip only takes one day from the bivouac at De la Heche, and is a very interesting one, it can be recommended to all mountaineers. Fyfe was of opinion that it was by this route the complete ascent of Glacier Peak must be made, lie thought by turning to the right when on the Dome and crossing a deep snow ravine the north-eastern ridge of the peak could be gained. This ravine, however, is swept by avalanches, and even when crossed the ridge might prove inaccessible. If practicable at all, the attempt could only be made in spring, when the ravine is filled *vith snow and avalanches are not so frequent.

On March 21 Dr Kronecker transferred his camp from De la Heche to the foot of Make Brim, to facilitate an attack on Mount Darwin. As on the following night the moon was full and unclouded, lighting up with magic- splendour all the grand expanse of snow and ice, an earl}'- start at 2 a.m. was made. Dr Kronecker, Fyfe, and Clark made their way across the Tasman to evade the crevasses, and walked northwards until the first snowfield, descending from Mount Darwin to the Tasman Glacier, was readied. This snowfield seemed practicable, having an easy slope, while a second one farther along was steeper and covered with broken ice. Up the first, therefore, at 4 a.m. the three climbed, roped together. beginning tin. 1 actual a.scent at. a height of almost 6000 ft. Very soon the way was blocked by a network of bergschrund«s,and finally the party was forced to take to the rocks that bounded the snowfield on the right. For a time this track proved practicable, but soon they had again to get on to the snow, but the worst bergschrunds lay behind, though two others, with very fragile snow - bridges,

serious illness of Graham, who, after Bwagging up some provisions to the hut with ".Mr Gibbs, was there prostrated by influenza, and actually delirious through the night. Mr Gibbs, with the aid of the pack horse, brought him back to the Hermitage, where he was fouml by the rest of the party, who arrived on December 27, ill in bed and quite unable to try the climb. Mount Cook, with a party thus weakened, was out of the question, and De la BOche, it was decided, should be reattacked. P r After spending one night in the Ball Glacier hut, we next day walked up the Tasman Glacier to the bivouac at the foot of De la Bcche, the men carrying heavy swags of provisions, cameras, and blankets. This bivouac consists of a huge overhanging rock, which affords about 10 square feet of shelter, and is rendered more comfortable by a breakwind of stones erected by former climbers. Sitting at the opening, when* a large stone acts as table, one can look across the moraine to where Mount Cook rears its magnificent mass, and can watch the avalanches thunder down from a dozen glaciers. Until the blowflies found out the strangers, the bivouac was very pleasant, but they showed indecent haste to welcome us, and arrived in swarms next in on ling.

Before 4 next morning, in moonlight, Wilson, Gibbs, and myself left the bivouac to try the ascent, leaving Mrs Ross to sketch. The day turned out a brilliant one, and we soon crossed the Ivron Prinz Rudolf moraines, and passed up the glacier to the icefall. Here was a bergschrund crossed by so frail a snow-bridge that Gibbs, the heaviest of the trio, repeatedly fell through. The slope above was found by the clinometer to beat an angle of 55deg, but it gradually tapered off to 30deg. The rocks up" which, last year, our party had climbed were now snow-covered, and as the snow Avas frozen hard it was necessary to cut steps. Stone avalanches were seen — one piece falling between two of the party and almost touching the rope. Near here was the frozen debris of an avalanche.

We made for a narrow ridge of rock •jutting out ahead, but this proved to be so rotten that the leader had once to uphold a shifting mass while the others got out of danger. A steep couloir was then climbed with much arduous step-cutting, and a

all its magnificence. The mighty Aoranyi upreared its precipices to the left, and straight in front rose the graceinl cone of Mount dreen, and the immense ice tower of the highest Minaret. Mount Sefton, to the left of Mount Cook, seemed like a steep rocky pyramid. Only half an hour could be given to this feast of eyesight, and after a cairn was built and names left therein enclosed in a bottle, the descent was begun. It was not without dangers, twice the doctor clipping on the ice, and each time being saved from an accident by the promptness of his companions. Hy 7 p.m. the Tasman was gained, and the camp w;is reached by S), after a trip of 10 hours. In January I S9 I- a p irty comprising Messrs Gibhs, Wilson. Graham and myself and Mrs Ross was arranged to attempt the ascent of Mount Cook, but this scheme had to be abandoned owing to the sudden and

followed the .Rudolf Glacier till the foot of Ihe icefall was reached. Soon, by turning to the right, the bare rock was gained, and two hours of rock climbing brought them to the top of the icefall and on to the ice. By 5.30 they stood on the crest dividing the Rudolf and the Fran/. Josef Glaciers From here, under a heavy fog, the coast line could be seen. Fifteen minutes' rest was enjoyed, and then, by keeping up a snow-slope, an immense schrund, the upper lip of which rose ooft above the lower, was reached. However, a, gap in one place enabled the climbers to scramble up and reach the rock above. This proved rotten, but improved after a climb up a co>'loii' and a scramble over loose rock. l>y 10.20 a.m. the top of l)e la Heche wa« reached, and the victors looked uowa into the Tasman.

After building a cairn, in which .Messrs Fyfe and Graham placed a jam tin with their names in it, the former proposed to try the Minarets. A stoop slope had to he descended, and when a stone thrown on this brought down an avalanche of snow with it, it was voted impracticable. Throughout, the snow was as hard as glass, and no glissading could be al tempted, so the rock had to be kept to as long as possible. By 4 p.m. the cam]) was reached. Meantime, whilst the members of the

brief halt called when the snow slope above was gained. After a rest we made a traverse to the left, the steps having now to be cut with great care, as the way lay over clear ice. \\y means of this traverse another snow slope was reached, the upper part of which measured GOdeg. After four hours' hard step-cutting, the top of the main ridge running down to the icefall was gained. From here it was seen — much to our disappointment — that, owing to the great change in the mountain since the last season, the peak from where we stood was impracticable. Between it and us lay great semes and crevasses, and beyond a quite impassable schrund. Reluctantly we had to abandon our ambition.

The saddle over to the West Coast, however, had never been crossed, and we resolved to attempt it. We went backwards clown the slope, kicking steps in the neve, which the fierce sun was rendering very soffc. At last the plateau between the icefall and the head of the Kron Prinz Rudolf Glacier was reached, and from here some splendid photographs were taken. While I was busy with the camera, Gibbs and Wilson went on in the direction of the saddle, but soon meeting with hidden crevasses, a halt was called to get the third man on the rope. Eventually we found ourselves in a maze of hidden crevasses, which, when we were within 80yds or 90yds from the saddle, proved too dangerous to cross. Gibbs and [ had both to be extricated from crevasses, and though the saddle lay temptingly near — in fact,' we were practically on it — a retreat had to be made, and none too soon, for re-crossing the plateau we sank up to our waists in the soft snow. A better route was taken for the descent, and after a little rock-work, sonic grand glissading was obtained, care being taken to lag behind the masses of" moving snow set in motion, by anchoring with the iceaxes, and then slightly altering the line of descent. By 6 p.m. we reached the bivouac, after a very pleasant climb. Some weeks later a successful ascent of J)e la Heche was made by Messrs Fyfe and Graham. They chose the way hy which our party descended, climbing on rock for the greater part of the time, only cutting some 60 steps on the upper lip of the bergschrund. The two left the bivouac at 4.25 a.m., and

X Z.A.C. were busy on the east, Mr A. P. Harper, a prominent member of the club, was, in company of Mr Douglass, an old explorer, doing good work on the western side of the range. The work carried out was, however, more of an exploratory and scientific nature, and hardly comes within the scope of an article on climbing pure and simple. Altogether the members of the New Zealand Alpine Club have every reason to be satisfied with the season's work, and in the coming season there is eveiy prospect that still better work will be done.