as soon as possible. When we at length gained its brink we saw at a glance that it was much steeper than we had imagined, and that, if I may be pardoned the Irishism, the snow was ice. In consequence we clung to the rocks as long as any sort of decent progress could be made, and it was only when each foot of advance was costing precious minutes that we turned into the gully.
Hypercritical climbers have occasionally suggested that I am in the habit of cutting steps rather wide apart. I only wish these cavillers could have seen Zurfluh's staircase. He has a peculiar habit of only cutting steps for the left foot, his right having the faculty of adhering firmly to absolutely smooth ice and enabling him by a combination of jump and wriggle to lift his left foot from one secure step to another six feet above it. He kindly showed me how it was done and urged me to imitate his procedure, pointing out the great saving of time thus rendered possible. Since, however, any trifling error would have resulted in an undue acquaintance with the glacier below, I preferred to cut intervening steps; even then it was a most arduous gymnastic exercise to climb from one to another. Happily, some twenty minutes of these violent athletics brought us to a point where we could quit the gully for the slope on our right. Hard, solid rock then led us merrily upwards to a great secondary ridge. This ridge divides the south face of the peak into two well-marked
