rocky tower. These various traverses and scrambles, interspersed with halts whenever the ingenuity of laziness could invent a tolerable excuse, consumed much time, and we were still without any very definite sign of the top.
Suddenly we stepped out of the cloud into brilliant sunshine, below us stretched an unbroken sea of billowy mist, from which Mont Blanc and the Grandes Jorasses alone emerged. Pressed for time as we were, we could not resist yet another halt to gaze at this extraordinary and most beautiful spectacle. Before us a short snow ridge led to what was obviously the top, and setting resolutely to work, a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes of step-cutting placed us on the summit (2 p.m.).
A biting northerly wind swept across the ridge, and kept the huge expanse of cloud below us in constant movement. At moments vast masses would be upheaved, and, caught by the wind, sailed away, throwing extraordinary shadows on the fleecy floor below. This, like some previous halts, was brought to an end by a sudden uprush of icy cloud and a sprinkle of snow. At 2.15 p.m. we left the top and sped hastily down the slope. In ever worsening weather, we sprawled and scrambled along the ridge as fast as we could go. Collie, despite the changed appearance of the mountain caused by the rapidly falling snow, followed our route of the morning with unwavering certainty. At exactly the right point he
