The caravan consisted of Mallory, Somervell, and Crawford, who was going with them as far as the North Col to assist them and to relieve them of the hard labour of remaking the path up to that point. Mallory will relate further on how at about one o’clock, when about half the journey had been completed, the snow suddenly cracked across and gave way, and the whole caravan was swept down the hillside, and seven porters killed.
On return to Camp III, a porter was despatched to take the news down to the Base Camp, and arrived that same night at about nine o’clock, having travelled at full speed—really a wonderful performance. There was nothing to be done—that was quite evident—and all I could do was to await the return of the party for a full account, sending news at the same time to Morris to evacuate the camps at the greatest possible speed. Mallory arrived by himself, very tired, and naturally very upset, on Thursday, the 8th. Again was shown what a terrible enemy the great Himalaya is. Risks and conditions which would appear justifiable in the Alps can never be taken in the Himalaya. So great is the scale that far greater time must be allowed for the restoration of safe conditions. When once the condition of a mountain is spoiled, the greater size requires more time for its readjustment. The odds against one are much greater in the Himalaya than in the smaller ranges. Its sun is hotter; its storms are worse; the distances are greater; everything is on an exaggerated scale.
Mallory was followed next morning by Wakefield, Crawford, and Somervell, who brought down with them a certain amount of the lighter equipment. Morris was all this time working to salvage as much as he possibly could from the different camps. We had a large number of Tibetans pushed up as far as Camp II, and as many of our own porters as were available (not very many, I am sorry to say, by now) working with Morris in the evacuation of Camp III. In this work the cooks and orderlies also joined.
It was perfectly evident by now that the monsoon had set in in full force. On his return, Morris gave me a very vivid description of how, even during the one day that he stayed up after the others had left at Camp III, although the weather was fairly fine, the whole face of the mountain sides began to change; how under the influence of the soft South wind the mountains seemed to melt and disintegrate. Not only that, but even the great teeth formed by the pressure of the collateral glaciers, probably great séracs that spring out like the teeth of a huge saw on the glacier, and which seemed solid enough to last for all time, were visibly crumbling up, and some of them were even toppling over. The great trough of black ice up the centre of the glacier which Strutt has described had turned into a rushing torrent—and all this in an incredibly short period of time. Snow also fell at intervals, and it was quite apparent that when the monsoon settled down the whole of Camp III would be under a great blanket of fresh snow. Under these conditions a good deal of stuff, especially the supplies of grain, tzampa, and so on, for our porters, had to be abandoned. As for Camps IV, V, and VI, there was naturally no chance of rescuing anything from them. Thus was occasioned a fairly large loss of outfit; nor was there any possibility that any of it could have stood under any conditions more than a month’s exposure to the weather. There was a considerable loss in the oxygen apparatus, but Morris managed to bring down three full outfits in more or less dilapidated condition.
On Morris’s return to the Base Camp, the party was completed. One of the difficulties in having so large an outfit as ours was the difficulty of obtaining transport when necessary. Therefore, as soon as we saw signs of the monsoon, it was necessary to make arrangements for our return, as at least fifteen days were required to collect the still large number of animals required for our moving. These animals have to be searched for all down the Dzakar Chu, collected, and brought up; nor when once collected could they be kept waiting for very long, as the supply of fodder in the upper valley was absolutely nil—fodder did not exist. When we sent off the previous party they travelled as lightly as possible, but even then the small number of animals which was required for their transport had not been obtained with any great ease. Fortunately, John Macdonald was with us and was free, and it was owing to his help (for he speaks Tibetan as well as Nepali, and is thoroughly accustomed to deal with the people) that the two parties of Strutt and Norton were able to proceed with such little delay. It had required a full fifteen days to collect enough animals to move the main body. I had arranged for a latitude of one or two days, which meant that they should have spare food up to that extent, but beyond that it would be quite impossible, naturally, to make provision. Of course, as one of our secondary objects we had hoped, if our party had not been exhausted, to have explored the West Rongbuk and the great glens on the Western faces of Everest. And besides this most interesting piece of exploration, of which really not very much more than glimpses were obtained during 1921, there is the prodigious and fascinating group of Cho Uyo and Gyachang Kang to be explored.
Watching the Dancers, Rongbuk Monastery.
As I before pointed out, of course, not only was our major work and the whole object of the Expedition the tackling of the great mountain, but also it was a race against the weather, so we could let nothing interfere with our main object. It was quite clear now, as we were situated, that an exploration of the West Rongbuk was entirely beyond consideration. Not only was the whole party fairly played out, but to get up enthusiasm in a new direction after what we had gone through was pretty nearly out of the question. Somervell, the absolutely untireable, had very strong yearnings in that direction, but it would have been nothing more than a scramble in the dark if he had gone. The weather was broken and was getting worse and worse every day. Snow fell occasionally even at our camp. Further up everything was getting smothered. Everest, when we had glimpses of it, was a smother of snow from head to foot, and no one who saw it in these days could ever imagine that it was a rock peak.
I am afraid also that most of us had only one real idea at the time, and that was to get out of the Rongbuk Valley. However, during our wait for the transport the annual fête of the Rongbuk Monastery occurred. There was a great pilgrimage to the monastery to receive the blessing of the Lama and to witness the annual dances. Most of our party went down to see dances, and Noel especially to cinematograph the whole ceremony, dances as well as religious ceremonies. I have not done justice up to this point to Noel’s work. He was quite indefatigable from the start, and had lost no opportunity during our march up, not only of taking many pictures of the country and Expedition, both with his ordinary camera and with his cinema camera, but of studying Tibetan life as well. He had in the Rongbuk Valley pitched his developing tents near the only available clear water at the moment, and had there been untiring in developing his cinema photographs. He had made two expeditions to the head of the East Rongbuk Glacier, and had even taken his cameras and his cinema outfit on to the North Col itself where he remained for no less than four days—a most remarkable tour de force. On the last occasion he had accompanied the evacuation party, and had been actually taking pictures of the start of the last attempt to get to the North Col and to climb Everest. Of course, his performances with the camera are entirely unprecedented. The amount of work he carried out was prodigious, and the enthusiasm he displayed under the most trying conditions of wind and weather was quite wonderful. We now feel that we can produce a real representation of our life and of life in Tibet in a manner in which it has never hitherto been brought before people’s eyes, and this gives a reality to the whole Expedition which I hope will make all those who are interested in mountain exploration understand the wonderful performances and the great difficulties under which the climbing members of this Expedition and the transport officers laboured.
After the news of the accident had been received, we immediately got in touch with the great Lama of Rongbuk, who was intensely sympathetic and kind over the whole matter. It is very strange to have to deal with these curious people; they are an extraordinary mixture of superstition and nice feelings. Buddhist services were held in the monasteries for the men who had been lost and for the families; and all the porters, and especially the relations of the men who were killed, were received and specially blessed by the Rongbuk Lama himself. All the Nepalese tribes who live high up in the mountains, and also the Sherpa Bhotias, have a belief that when a man slips on the mountains and is killed, or when he slips on a cliff above a river and falls into it and is drowned, that this is a sacrifice to God, and especially to the god of the actual mountain or river. They further believe that anyone whosoever who happens to be on the same cliff or on the same mountain at the same place, exactly at the same time of year, on the same date and at the same hour, will also immediately slip and be killed.