Footnote:
[13] I use this expression to denote not a state of intermittent vomiting, but simply one in which physical exertion exhausts the body abnormally and causes a remarkable disinclination to further exertion.
CHAPTER XVI
WEATHER AND CONDITION OF SNOW
Without consulting the meteorologist at Simla it is difficult to accept assertions about the monsoon as ultimate truth. Beyond a general, rather vague, agreement as to what should normally be expected, opinions differ not a little as to the measure and frequency of divergences from the norm. And individuals who observe in one locality more or less than they hope or expect are apt to forget that their dearth or plenty may be elsewhere compensated by capricious incidence. Nevertheless it seems certain that this year's rainfall in North-east India was above the normal both in amount and duration. “We had good rain,” people said, and I was tempted to reply, “We had bad snow.” Travelling through India I frequently asked questions on this point, and almost invariably heard of an unusually bountiful rainfall, seldom of one which was merely sufficient. Inhabitants of Darjeeling, who have observed the hills in the changing seasons for many years, told me that it was almost unheard of that so much snow should fall in September and lie so low. The general tenor of such remarks may probably be applied to an area including not only Mount Everest itself and the great peaks in its neighbourhood, but also a considerable tract of country to the North. The monsoon, according to Tibetan information, started perhaps a little later than usual, but was still more late in coming to an end; the Tibetans ordinarily lie with an object, and there could be no object in deceiving us about the weather. It may be concluded the year was abnormally wet, though to what extent on Everest itself can hardly be divined.
During our outward journey through Sikkim we saw nothing of the high peaks. It was not until the day of our march to Phari Dzong (May 28) that we had a clear view of the snows, and we had then the good fortune to see Chomolhari late in the morning. But Chomolhari and the range to the North of it were less visited by clouds than the peaks further South. Pawhunri, Kanchenjunga, Chomiomo were less often visible, and even at this early season we began to observe the usual habit of clouds to rise from the valleys or to form about the summits at an early hour, to be dissipated not before evening. The weather was not necessarily bad because the peaks were veiled. When we first saw Everest from Kampa Dzong on June 6, it was obscured some three hours after sunrise, but the weather seemed fine: and on two subsequent days we made the same observation. On June 13, from the hills above Shiling, Bullock and I were trying to make out the Everest group through glasses for about three hours. When first we looked in that direction, it appeared that a storm was in progress, with dark clouds drifting up from the West; but Kanchenjunga at the same time was a glorious sight, and all the mountains were clear before sunset. The most splendid of the distant views was from Ponglet on June 19: we were up our hill half an hour after sunrise and half an hour later there was nothing to be seen. There may have been malice in the clouds that day. It was radiantly fine where we were; but in the afternoon we came under the edge of a thunderstorm which drenched the main body of the Expedition as they were approaching Tingri; and there was a definite break in the weather at this time.
I suppose this break may be taken as the forerunner of the monsoon on Mount Everest. Storms there may have been before; but, generally speaking, it had been fine over the mountains since the beginning of June, and though the evidence is slight enough it seems probable that Everest received little or no snow before June 20. When first we saw it, a few days later, from the Rongbuk Glacier, it was still comparatively black. It appeared a rocky mass with a white arm to the right, some permanent snow on the ledges and in the gullies of the face turned Northwards in our direction and some snow again on the high North-east arête; but with no pretensions to be a snow-mountain, a real sugar-cake as it seemed afterwards to become. We were lucky in having a few fine days at the outset of our reconnaissance. The conditions then were very different from those which obtained later. The recent snow must have melted quickly; we found clean ice on an East-facing slope at 21,000 feet and also at a gentler angle on one facing West. On Ri-ring the slopes were generally covered with snow near the crest, thinly but sufficiently, or we should never have got up; near the summit we found ice on both sides, North and South. It is impossible to say up to what height one might have found ice in June. Appearances suggested that on all but the steepest slopes above 23,000 feet the surface was hard snow rather than ice.
It was on the day following our ascent of Ri-ring, July 6, that we first experienced a real snowfall; and we woke next morning to find 3 or 4 inches covering the ground. In so far as an exact date can be ascribed to what is hardly a single event, July 6–7 may be taken as the beginning of the monsoon. We imagined at first that this snowfall was an important matter, sufficient to prevent climbing at any considerable height for several days. But from subsequent observations we came to treat such snowfalls with a certain degree of contempt. It was more often than not the case during the whole of July until the date of our departure that snow fell during the day—sometimes perhaps for a comparatively short period between noon and sunset, not seldom for many hours, intermittently during the day from the middle of the morning, and continuing into the night. But it was often so far as we were concerned a harmless phenomenon. Snow was precipitated from clouds so thin that they were easily penetrated by the sun's heat; it melted where it lay, and the moisture so readily evaporated that the snow had hardly stopped falling before the ground was dry. One might suppose that a few hundred feet higher, where the snow could be seen to lie where it fell, the effects would be more severe; but it was remarkable after half a day's unceasing precipitation of this fine granular snow that one might go up early next morning, perhaps to 20,000 feet, and find no more than a thin covering of 2 or 3 inches on the stones.