All the time the porters were working from our Base Camp and up there was great competition between them, and also considerable betting as to who would do the hardest work—the true Tibetan-born porters or the Sherpas from the South. It was rather amusing to see the superior airs which the Sherpas invariably gave themselves in travelling through Tibet. They considered Tibetans undoubtedly jăngli,[[4]] and treated them very much from the point of view that a clever Londoner does the simplest form of yokel when he appears in London. At any rate, they backed themselves heavily to beat the Tibetans. It was a pretty good race, but finally they came out well on top; in fact, I think all but one who reached 25,000 feet and over were Sherpas. Paul, the interpreter, and Gyaljen, had a great bet also about the officers, Paul favouring Finch and Gyaljen Mallory. As a matter of fact, there was quite a little book made among all the followers with regard to who would go highest among the officers. I did not even belong to the “also rans” between them. Oxygen was looked upon as a matter of no particular importance, and I believe Paul made Gyaljen pay up, as he had won with Finch against Mallory.
[4]. Wild.
On May 27 we welcomed the arrival of John Macdonald with a further supply of money, as, owing to the large calls of our enormous transport, we had been afraid of running short. This was very cheering to us indeed, and also a very great help, for, besides the money, Mr. Macdonald brought with him two or three servants very well accustomed to travel in Tibet and knowing all the people of the country. These we were able to use as special messengers, and we sent off immediately by them an account of the climbs that had occurred. The second of them was unfortunately delayed by illness, and this accounted for the slight delay in letting the world know of our great second “oxygen” climb. The first messenger rode through in ten days from Rongbuk to Phari, and by so doing almost caught up the previous letters which had been despatched through the Dzongpens. Arrangements are, after all, not so bad in Tibet. When one considers that Tibetans themselves have no understanding or care for time, the promptness with which the different communications were sent through was rather wonderful. There were, on occasions, no doubt, hitches, but, generally speaking, the postal arrangements worked very well.
The weather had become more and more threatening, but we could not bring ourselves absolutely to give up for this year the attempts on Everest; at the same time, the casualties were heavy. Our medical members had all got to work and had tested thoroughly each member of the Expedition that had been employed. It was evidently absolutely necessary that Morshead should return as quickly as possible into hospital in India, and there were also several other members who were suffering from their hard work. Longstaff had “shot his bolt” as far as this year’s work was concerned, and it was also most important that Morshead should have a doctor with him. Strutt, too, was very much overdone, and it was time for him to return. Norton was strained and tired, and Geoffrey’s toes, though not so bad as Morshead’s, required that he should quickly go down to a warmer climate. We therefore made up two convoys, which were to start together from the Base Camp. Longstaff, Strutt, and Morshead to go with the sardar Gyaljen direct to Darjeeling, travelling viâ Khamba Dzong, and from Khamba Dzong directly South to Lachen and Gangtok and Darjeeling by the shorter and quicker route. This would bring them quite a week sooner to Darjeeling than the route by which we entered Tibet. It was most important that Morshead should be got back as quickly as possible; in fact, we were all very nervous about his condition, and we were afraid that it might be necessary for some operation to be carried out actually on the march.
It had always been our idea that as soon as we had finished with our summer attack on Everest, the whole Expedition should go into the Kharta Valley, where Colonel Howard-Bury in 1921 made his camps, and there recover from our labours. The Kharta Valley is far lower than any other district in this part of Tibet, lying between 11,000 and 12,000 feet above sea-level; there are also many comforts which do not exist in other parts. There is good cultivation, trees and grass to a certain extent, and even some vegetables are obtainable. It is altogether a charming spot—very charming compared with any other country we were likely to see. The road was very high for sick men, as it led over the Doya La, which is only 3 feet under 17,000 feet, but having once got there, they would be in comfort compared with the Rongbuk Glacier.
Having decided on sending off this large convoy of invalids and semi-invalids, we then began to organise our third attempt on Everest, but so doubtful was the weather that the party was organised for two complete purposes. It was fully provided with porters, far more than would in the ordinary way be necessary for an attempt on the mountain itself, considering that the camps were all fully provisioned. We had brought every single man off the glacier after the last attempt in order to give them all a complete rest. Every one had now had a long rest, with the exception of Finch, who had only had five days. He, however, was very keen to join the party.
The second rôle of this party was to evacuate as many camps as possible, according to the condition of the weather, and it was carefully explained to them that if in their opinion the weather was such as to preclude an attempt on the mountain, they were to use the greatest possible care and run no undue risks. It was organised as follows: The climbing party to consist of Finch, Mallory, and Somervell; the backing-up party, Crawford and Wakefield, to remain at Camp III; and Morris, in whose charge the whole of the transport arrangements were, was to take charge of the evacuation of camps either after the attempt had been made, or if no attempt was made, immediately. Such was the condition of the weather that I had no very great hope that even the Chang La camp could be evacuated, but it was most necessary to recover all stores left at the great depôt at Camp III. This was of the utmost importance, as not only was the oxygen apparatus there, but also a great number of surplus stores—stores which we should be in need of. We had, of course, rationed these camps with a view to staying there probably a fortnight longer, but this year the monsoon had evidently advanced at least ten days earlier than usual. That, however, we could not foresee, nor could we foresee the very great severity of the 1922 monsoon of the Eastern Himalaya. This we only heard about on our return to India later on. It was a curious thing that the Rongbuk Lama had sent up to congratulate the porters, and ourselves also, on having come back safely from the earlier attempts, but he warned the porters to leave the mountain alone, as he had had a vision of an accident.
On June 3 the great convoy set off and spent the night at Camp I. On June 4 we were rather overwhelmed to see Finch staggering into camp. He was very much overdone, and had by no means recovered from his terrific exertions on the mountain. It was quite evident that he was finished for this year, and he was lucky to be just in time to join the detachment returning to India direct. It was a very great loss to the party. Not only would he have been of special assistance as the oxygen expert, but his experience and knowledge of snow and ice under the conditions then prevailing would have been of the greatest advantage to the party.
The weather now had completely broken. It was snowing hard; even at our Base Camp we had 2 inches of snow; the whole of the mountains were a complete smother of snow. Notwithstanding this, and, under the conditions, quite rightly, the convoy pushed on to Camp III. On arrival at Camp III the weather cleared. The wind temporarily went round to the West, and one perfect day of rest and sunshine was enjoyed.
Morris all this time was on the line of communication. He had the whole of the service of evacuation to arrange, and was laying out his convoys of Tibetan coolies and others with that point of view in his mind. It was lucky he did so. The great foe, generally speaking, on Everest during the dry period is the horrible West wind, but now the monsoon had to all intents and purposes arrived. The West wind now was our one and only friend. If it would again blow for a short period, the mountain would probably return temporarily to a fairly safe condition. The South wind is a warm and wet, though fairly strong, current, but the result of even a short visit from it absolutely ruins the mountain-side. However, at Camp III they enjoyed one full day of sunshine, followed by a very low temperature (12° below zero) the following night, and it was considered, owing both to the strength of the sun and to the fact that the West wind had temporarily got the better of the South wind, that the mountain would in all probability be safely solidified so as to render an attempt justifiable. Therefore on the morning of June 7 a start was made to reach the North Col, with the object of spending a night there and making an assault on the mountain the following day. It was also proposed to carry up as much oxygen as possible to the greatest height they could get the porters to go, and from that point only to use the remaining oxygen to make a push over the summit. I think this was a thoroughly sound proposition. They were all acclimatised, and it seems to me that it is probably better, especially if there is any chance of a shortage of oxygen, to use one’s acclimatisation to go as high as one can without undue fatigue, and from thence on to use the oxygen. No doubt it would be possible and of advantage, if the oxygen apparatus should ever be improved, to use it for the whole of an ascent, say, from 20,000 feet or so, but against that comes the chance that, in case of any cessation of the oxygen supply, the danger would be very much greater.