We congratulated ourselves that all our weary toil and hard swagging had not been fruitless, and felt quite compensated for the miseries we had gone through at the lower camp, though the main object of our visit, we feared, was about to be defeated in a very short time. We pulled ourselves together, put on the rope, and resolved to make some pretence of a fight for it.
After an hour’s work we reached the highest rocks, then there came a dip on to a snow saddle, beyond which, again, snow slopes lead on to the final summit of the spur which hid the Great Plateau.
But it was not to be; for whenever we went on to snow we sank waist-deep, and struggled in vain to make any headway. Here, then, we were beaten, and planting our Christ’s College flag in the highest rocks, gave it three cheers for the old school days, and depositing a bottle with the record of our ascent, turned our backs on the grim giant Aorangi, and began to go down.
We struck a better route down by going into some couloirs north of the arête of the spur, and reached the Ball Glacier camp again, going down the following day to the Hermitage, after crossing the Hooker by the kind assistance of a shepherd from Birch Hill. The Hooker River had risen to such an extent during the rain storm as to carry away the wire on which we had slung our swags across. The camera was warped with the wet at the lower camp, whilst the plates were anything but ‘dry’ after the storm, so photography was altogether a failure in this excursion.
In the winter time we amused ourselves with another ascent of Mount Torlesse.
CHAPTER V
THIRD ATTEMPT TO CLIMB AORANGI
Photography on the Tasman Glacier—Attempt to scale Mount
De la Bêche
Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends.—Childe Harold.