10 p.m., and they were sitting on their bunks smoking a last pipe. Hastily they kicked the fire together and put on more logs. Then, while the fire crackled cheerily, and we waited for the billy to boil, we related our adventures. When we came to our clamber down "roaring creek" in the dark, they were astounded, and one man owned that he had tried to follow it up in the daytime, and had given it up as "too tough a job." We made a good meal of bread, meat, and tea, our first substantial one after nineteen hours' strenuous work and excitement. Then amid a chorus of "Good-nights" we tramped away into the darkness to the Douglas Rock bivouac, a quarter of a mile farther on.
On reaching the rock the guides undid the swags they had been burdened with all day and produced a change of dry clothes for all of us. After unrolling the sleeping-bags and blankets kept at the cave, and lighting a lantern swung from the roof, they set off back to the men's camp to change their soaked garments, leaving me to do likewise at my leisure. Before their return I was once more warm and dry and happily buried in the depths of a sleeping-bag, which represented the height of luxury and comfort after the strenuous exertions of the last few hours.
Next morning we woke to wind and rain, and knowing it was impossible to cross the Copland Pass under such conditions, we thankfully snuggled into our bags and slept far into the day. Awaking at last thoroughly refreshed and not a bit the worse for our previous day's experiences, we set about making a roaring fire. This served the double purpose of cooking our meals and drying our soaked garments.
Thoroughly happy and contented, we sat by the fire and discussed our achievements from all points of view. Considering the difficulties of the climb, even under good conditions, we were more than satisfied with our success. One thing worried us considerably, and that was the
