THE ASCENT OF ILLEMANI.

Otago Witness, Issue 2389, 14 December 1899, Page 55

THE ASCENT OF ILLEMANI.

(Extract from an article by Sir MartHl Conway.)

Before 2 o'clock next morning we had left camp and were winding our way. up amongst yawning crevasses by the light of a single candle. Fifteen miles away, across the valley of La l'az Biver, another twinkling light was visible, shining through the window of a remote farmhouse. That' was our sole link- with- the -w-orld of menThe night was not cold (only 21deg..]?ahr.), > but the snow was hard as rock; and we inado rapid progress. Once] Guillen ■ fell into a crevasse, but, being roped, we pulled him out unhurt. The old moon xis'.-. Ing over the snow-field rendered' the lahtern superfluous: Mounting . steadily iip- ' ward, we approached the watershed ridge",the very crest of the Cordillera Real, and two and a-half hours from camp we stood upon it and- looked down an appalling precipice of at least 14,000 ft, into the black depths of some valley of fertile Yungas. It was still night. Gloom enveloped us; blanched snow and black crags appeared dim and ghostly near at hand, ' but tha vague horror of that almost fathomless plunge into the dark gulf at our feet was one of the experiences that it has been worth living to know. During all this part of our ascent there had been on our left a great mountain exactly between us and Illimani ; I called ifc the Pico del Indio. We knew that a snow plateau lay between it and Illimani, and we had hoped to gain this plateau by passing round the back of the Pico del Indio. Now, however, we learned, to our regret, that the tremendous Yungas cliff rendered any such circumvention impossible, whilst, a corresponding cliff on the side from which •we had come equally prohibited a turningmovement. The intervening peak must be climbed over, and we must begin by going up the steep and narrow ridge on which" we were then standing — no easy matter, as we could see even through the gloom of the night. A boss of hard, transparent ice, the size of a walrus," stuck out of the ridge, and had first to be surmounted. Steps were cut in it with much deliberation, and we raised ourselves to the crest above, one foot over the fathomless precipice, the othe.\ on a steep slope, with a gaping crevasse &■ few yards down. .Slip which way you might, it would be sudden 1 destruction, and to slip was easy in this darkness and cold. The last stride was about as theatrical a performance as I can remember,'- for the' ice. even in the, steps, was as auppeiy OS

a -frozen pond. . » . Above the -boss of ice were steep rocks, up which we felt 6ur way in the darkness, for the moon had gone behind clouds the last hour or more. Farther up the ridge an enormous ice cor"Uice barred the way, and "could neither be circumvented nor climbed over, as dawn Enabled Us to ascertain. ■ There was no al.ternative but to cross the whole steep south face of the Pico del Indio to- a gap in the ttdge on the other- side, by which, as we knew, access to the high gnow- plateau cpuld be attained. The face was a great elope of. ice, fortunately covered by a thin layer of well-frozen snow that adhered firmly to it, and into^which steps could be cut \ The day was at hand. All along the 'crest of the* mountains and clouds in the east named the crimson glory of the coming sun. The. brighter illumination only served to make morS plain the solemnity and splendour of our surroundings. The Ice slope itself was one of the steepest I have ever stood on. A few hundred feet below, it was .cut off into a vertical cliff, overhanging in places, and by its feet lay the piled ruins of the ice avalanches which continually fell from it. There <Jould be aip slipping here. The day increased, the syn came, and we slowly advanced ; but Blow slowly the distance diminished between me and the westenuridge I cannot describe. "Cllick, click, click, went .the axe, hewing cut a etep with painstaking care. ' . . . 'At last the desired .saddle was gained, and Hfe could throw ourselves down and rest awhile, more than 20,000 feet above the j sea, with the culminating peaks of IlliXft&ni, now full in sight, rising beyond the snow plateau, of whose existence we had been assured, but which we now first saw ■ — a vast, unbroken, undulating expanse, .waving away to four snow-white peaks and *he saddles between them. The highest [peak was right opposite, and the way to at was obvious ; we must gain the saddle fceside-it, and then follow a snow ridge to the top, the saddle in question being the depression visible from La Paz immediately to the left of the highest summit. .- . We had no headaches, nausea, running of blood from nose and ears, or other violent symptoms, but all were greatly reduced in strength. . . . There was not a crevasse, scarcely an inequality of surface )to vary the. way. The rounded snow summits shut off distant views, and were not Interesting objects to look at in themselves. |A.fter three hours of slow continuous plodding the inclination ceased, and we stood jupon a flat, wide saddle, from which there fell away at our feet the steep descent facing La Paz. We threw ourselves down for a- few moments to rest and eat. We were about 21,000 ft above the sea. For view /there was behind us the great plateau ; to 3eft and right, snow ridges leading up to («vhite peaks ; ahead, a tumbled cataract of ice, seen through the 'gaps of changeful clouds ; with now and then a glimpse over )the wide Bolivian desert far away .to north and wesfcr ' The ascent recommenced. Slowly, very Elowly, we mounted the wide and easy •now ridge, conscious only of heart-break-ing toil, and entirely possessed by a fixed determination to get the work done. The lifting o{ each foot in its turn was a tragic effort. Presently everything became un-. real and dreamlike. I fell into a semicomatose condition, but plodded on all £he same. Twice I came to myself with a Start; I had been walking in something jrery like sleep. One apparent summit was succeeded by another, but the true one xame at last. "Monsieur, a vons la gloire," said Maquignaz, as he moved aside for me" ifco stand first upon the highest point of snow. It was half an hour before noon. {The altitude was 21,200 ft The cane flagstaff we had brought up in sections yas planted in the snow, and a little unionjjack set waving ; but, alas ! no one but could see it, for most of the lower regions were buried in a sea of clouds, and La Paz in particular was hidden. A flagstaff erected in snow will not stand many hours. This one fell before clear weather returned, and never showed itself down the telescope of the Jesuit Fathers at La Paz, who looked out for it at the first opportunity.