Where our eye or axe probe has given us reason to suspect a crevasse, the next test is to flog the same spot lightly with the axe point. In dealing with sun-soft surface this flick goes deeper, with less exertion, and practice can make it a very accurate reporter upon the consistency. This too is its merit in testing the thoroughfaresomeness of visible bridges. Where also the snow cover is thin, the flogging stroke tells us more quickly than the prod where sound footing ends and the crevasse begins.
Snow testing, like walking with the axe, should be shared equally between the two hands. It is not only exceedingly useful to be equally dexterous and sensitive with either hand, but the practice keeps the muscular development even and the general condition of the body proportionately better.
When we are working through crevassed glacier the second man must always watch the meaning of his leader’s movements, and halt and brace at once if the leader checks. The others watch each the man in front of him. It is essential to follow exactly in the steps on a glacier of this sort, even though the windings of the leader’s tracks may suggest many pleasant short-cuts to the tail of the rope. By watching the men ahead we know when we must be ready to let out rope, so as to enable the man in front of us, in his turn, to make a long step across a dubitable crevasse or a short jump, and when we shall have to pause and protect him with the rope, as his turn comes to start delicately over a presumed bridge. To hold the rope taut is irritating, to jerk it dangerous, and to leave it slack on the surface irritating and dangerous; the correct touch comes with experience.
The leader will always be on the look out; but the men behind will naturally be following with less close attention. Therefore if the leader comes upon a small crevasse or other easy obstacle too slight to cause him an obvious check, he should warn the man behind of its presence, as he strides on, by beating the spot with his axe; and the signal should be repeated by each man following.
Again if, when we are all moving together, we have checked in order to make some awkward step or to test a bridge, we must remember that in a few seconds the man behind us will be checking at the same place, and we must slacken our pace at the right second to allow him time to cross. It is common and aggravating error to hurry on again so as to get into rhythm with the man in front, forgetting that the man behind will have slowed up for our pause, and will be jerked or scuffled by our omission to allow him the same margin.
The same rule applies if we are serpentining rapidly down a glacier, swinging so as to cross longitudinal or diagonal crevasses at the right angle. If we resume the normal pace the moment we have swung ‘into the straight’ again ourselves, we leave no time for the man behind to finish his parabola or cross his bridge. This is a roguery ingrained in all but the best of guides.
Glacier craft, the ability to choose in anticipation the easiest line down or up a volatile succession of semi-visible obstructions, and to surpass them safely as they become concrete, can only become an actual possession by long experience and unwearying observation. There is a family likeness between whole groups of surface configurations shaped by the same cause, which, however dissimilar their momentary association, will recall to a recording eye some past occasion of encounter, and will suggest to a cool head and skilful hands the proven method of avoiding or defeating them in their new combination.
Glaciers form our avenues of tempting approach, and, as often, of tedious return. During the hours when human vivacity is on the wane the higher ice falls are opening always wider eyes of watchful malice. Towards their confounding not only ice craft but all the qualities which produce the collective strength of a party, from temper to the sense of direction, must contribute in concert. Among glacier ambuscades a party that has not found unity will fall to pieces. They are yet more demoralizing to one whose leadership is in commission,—that grievous blunder of divided responsibility, which, arising out of the sociable conjunction of two or more self-contained parties for the purpose of a single climb, leads too often through disjointed action to failure, and even, as our chronicles bear witness, to disaster.
A really united rope, well led, which can work through disheartening glacier falls long, and late, and like them, has graduated in mountaineering; and may be considered to hold the freedom of the great peaks.