Then we were in a
great valley between the first and second ridges: we got into huge heaps
of ice pressed up in every shape on every side, crevassed in every
direction: we slithered over snow-slopes and crawled along drift ridges,
trying to get in towards the cliffs. And always we came up against
impossible places and had to crawl back. Bill led on a length of Alpine
rope fastened to the toggle of the sledge; Birdie was in his harness also
fastened to the toggle, and I was in my harness fastened to the rear of
the sledge, which was of great use to us both as a bridge and a ladder.
Two or three times we tried to get down the ice-slopes to the
comparatively level road under the cliff, but it was always too great a
drop. In that dim light every proportion was distorted; some of the
places we actually did manage to negotiate with ice-axes and Alpine rope
looked absolute precipices, and there were always crevasses at the bottom
if you slipped. On the way back I did slip into one of these and was
hauled out by the other two standing on the wall above me.
We then worked our way down into the hollow between the first and second
large pressure ridges, and I believe on to the top of the second. The
crests here rose fifty or sixty feet. After this I don't know where we
went. Our best landmarks were patches of crevasses, sometimes three or
four in a few footsteps.
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