CHAPTER XVII

_THE PILLAR ROCK_

Mosedale is closed in by Yewbarrow, Red Pike, Pillar, Looking Stead, and Kirkfell. These form a noble amphitheatre of dark mountains, a cordon through which it is not easy to break. Between the last two hills we can effect the passage of the Black Sail over into Ennerdale, which passes down behind the Pillar to the north-west. A more direct route to Ennerdale is by Wind Yatt (or Windy Gap), a pass 2,400 feet high, between the Pillar and the Red Pike. On the northern or Ennerdale side of the Pillar mountain is the famous Rock, beloved of climbers great and small. It springs up vertically from the steep fellside, with a north face like a cathedral-front 500 feet high. From the summit of the fell a descent of 400 feet of steep rock and scree will bring us to the nearest part of the crag. From the Liza River at the bottom of the valley we have 1,100 feet of grass and scree to tackle before reaching the lowest buttresses that support the great wall.

From below, the precipice is seen to be divided into two parts by a long, black chimney. This is Walker’s Gully, named after the young man who fell there in 1883. Its head is the point of convergence of sundry lines of scree from the upper fell. It suggests a funnel cut down along its centre-line, and scree frequently slides down the sides of the funnel and into the gully. This no doubt is the chief reason why Walker’s Gully has never been climbed until recently, when snow and frost diminished the risk from this cause. It would prove difficult under any conditions, and the risk of a battery of stones from above is too heavy a handicap for the cautious climber.

The Pillar Rock itself is on the right of the gully, in our view from below. The crag on the left is considerably lower, and in fact scarcely rises high enough over the head of the gully to be visible from above. But from the east it presents an imposing appearance. Its outline partly suppresses that of the higher crag beyond, partly combines with it, audit is often mistaken for the actual Pillar Rock. Hence the name Sham-rock by which it has been known since 1882. It is a mere walk to reach the summit from the Pillar Fell. The climbing on the Shamrock is not quite so good as that on the neighbouring crag, but it cannot well be neglected. On the eastern side is the well-known Shamrock Gully, a magnificent looking cleft in the rocks, finishing with a huge V-shaped notch at the summit. A natural arch spans the gully half-way up, and an obstacle some few feet higher makes a pitch of unusual severity--‘one of the stiffest pitches in all Cumberland.’ It was first climbed by Mr. Geoffrey Hastings’ party in March, 1887, when a bank of snow below the pitch gave a little help. In December, 1890, the climb was repeated by a party with the same leader, without the aid of snow, and since that date various ascents have been made with and without snow. Among others a new route over the obstacle was effected in December, 1896, by the writer and three friends. It is probable that the pitch turns back fifty per cent. of the people who essay to climb it.

On the same eastern face, a few yards further away to the north, is the Shamrock Chimney, a thin crack running somewhat irregularly upwards to the summit ridge. The credit of the first ascent belongs to Mr. John Robinson, whose keen eye and sound judgment made the ascent an accomplished fact, on September 23, 1894, within a few days of his discovery of the chimney. Shortly afterwards Robinson showed me the route, and I was convinced at once that in difficulty and extreme interest it was far superior to the Shamrock Gully, and equal to the best climbing on the Pillar Rock. The third ascent was made by Dr. Lawrence in April, 1895. Not many parties have been up it as yet, and I am hoping that the full account of its details here supplied will tempt others to attack it.

I have said that the Pillar Rock lies to the right of Walker’s Gully when viewed from below. It is bounded on the other or western side by a broad hollow in the fell, down which a slender stream flows without any abrupt change of level till the foot of the precipice is reached. There the ‘Great’ waterfall disturbs the even tenor of its way, and is said to offer a formidable obstruction to our approach of the west face from below.

From the Shamrock side we can get the best idea of the shape of the Rock. We have first the Pisgah rising out of the upper fellside, a pinnacle easily accessible and only forty or fifty feet high. Then to the right comes the actual Pillar Rock, the ‘High Man,’ separated from Pisgah by a narrow vertical cleft, the ‘Jordan,’ that renders the ascent from Pisgah almost an impossibility. At the Jordan two gullies meet; one up the east side, short and easy, the other up the west side, longer and more difficult.

The outline of the rock is marked by a notch to the right of the summit, where the Great Chimney finishes, and a little further northwards it shows a sudden drop to the level of the Low Man, the immense buttress that from below hides the true summit altogether. A cairn has been erected on the top of this buttress, and the outline to the right of this falls in one vertical drop of 400 feet to the foot of the rock. This is the great north wall. It is supported at the base by a minor buttress, the ‘Nose,’ that stretches across the full width of the north wall, and along the top of which, immediately below the precipice, an easy terrace takes us across to the Great Waterfall from a point near the foot of Walker’s Gully. From the eastern end of the traverse rises the Savage Gully, a well-marked cleft with sundry branches, reaching to the top of the Low Man.

On the western side the rock appears much more formidable. The chimney up to the Jordan looks black, and its crest is overhanging. The wall of the High Man itself is built up with long slabs of smooth rock, broken only by the smallest grass ledges, and its difficulties appear to increase near the summit. This side of the Low Man looks as inaccessible as the great north wall. Nevertheless a series of short gullies starting from the foot of the High Man lead obliquely up towards the left and offer a very easy route to the southern end of the Low Man, whence to the summit the climbing is but moderately difficult.

The best ways of reaching the Pillar Rock are given in full detail by Mr. Haskett Smith. It will here be sufficient to remark that from Wastdale the usual course followed is to ascend by the path towards Black Sail Pass until about ten minutes beyond Gatherstone Beck, then to make for the ridge on the left leading over Looking Stead and up to the summit of Pillar Fell. Thence a descent of 450 feet in a northerly direction brings us to the Pillar Rock. Sometimes Mosedale is followed straight up, and the steep slope climbed that leads to Windy Gap. Thence the ridge to the right takes us in twenty minutes of easy going to the summit of the Pillar Fell. Both these routes involve an unnecessary ascent of 450 feet, and the ‘High-Level Route’ was designed to avoid this waste of time and energy. Looking Stead is reached as before from Gatherstone Beck, and the wire fence followed up for a few minutes as far as the head of Green Cove. Here a cairn marks the spot where a rough path starts down the cove. We descend only fifty feet or so, and then turn round to the left and skirt along the north-east side of the fell. It is unsafe to attempt the traverse for the first time in a mist, but with clear weather the various cairns that mark successive points on the route can be easily discerned, and a half-hour’s walk brings us to the wide scree gully running down by the eastern side of the Shamrock. To reach the foot of the Pillar Rock is a simple matter. The photograph facing page 271 was taken across this scree, and it will be seen that the route down to the Nose is only a walk round the foot of the Shamrock. A broad, sloping corridor in the lee of a steep rock-wall further up the fellside, enables us to steer clear of the Shamrock cliffs and to reach their head without any hand-and-foot scrambling. Thence across the scree descending to Walker’s Gully we see Pisgah and the High Man, and with care we can now make the traverse to the foot of the Jordan Gully. There we are in a position to start any of the ordinary short climbs on the Pillar Rock. The west route can be reached by turning Pisgah on the left and descending the west scree for 300 feet. The long climbs up the north face are started from the Nose.

The Pillar Rock was first climbed by an Ennerdale cooper named Atkinson, who in 1826 ascended by the west side. The ‘slab-and-notch’ route on the east side, starting from the upper screes above Walker’s Gully, was devised by Messrs. Conybeare and A. J. Butler in 1863, though it would seem that the same side was successfully attacked a year or two before. Matthew Barnes, a Keswick guide, found a route across the eastern face to the Low Man, and thence back along the summit ridge to the highest point. He was climbing with Mr. Graves, of Manchester. Mr. W. P. Haskett Smith found in 1882 a direct way up to the High Man from the Jordan, and a second route straight up the wall a few yards to the east of the first. Two years later he reached the summit by a particularly hazardous course still further to the east, passing up close to the buttress whose lower end marks the start of the ‘slab-and-notch’ route. In the same year he made the first ascent by the Great Chimney on the east side. Mr. Haskett Smith named the first three routes the ‘West Jordan,’ the ‘Central Jordan,’ and the ‘East Jordan’ climbs respectively; the latter route is never undertaken, and the other two are often termed the ‘Left Pisgah’ and ‘Right Pisgah.’

For many years Mr. Haskett Smith made visits to the north face, endeavouring to reach the summit of the Low Man from the easy ledge at its foot. On the right his course was limited by the almost seamless wall of rock that gives the Pillar Rock its appearance of hopeless inaccessibility from Ennerdale. On the left the Savage Gully cut off all chance of traversing to the eastern side of the rock. The space between was strictly limited, and it narrowed as he climbed higher. Within thirty feet of an easy scree gully that obviously led to the summit of the Low Man, the only available course had dwindled down to a slender rib of rock in a dangerously exposed situation, much too risky to attack without guarantee of its feasibility.

In 1891 this climber, with Messrs. Hastings and Slingsby, succeeded at last in finding a way of descending into the Savage Gully at that point. Their leader then mounted its left wall and worked easily across to the foot of the scree gully. The others followed, and the ‘long climb’ up the Pillar Rock became an accomplished fact. No published detailed description of the route is known to the writer.

SHAMROCK GULLY.--This is rather an unpleasant climb for those who dislike loose stones. The bed of the gully is very steep and narrow. It is followed straight up the centre, by using horizontal shelves on either side that now and again flake off in a most unexpected way. Extreme care is necessary on the part of the leader, for his followers cannot avoid any fragments that he may dislodge. The climbing is otherwise easy, and very little distance should exist between the separate members of the party.

Half-way up the gully the bridge is passed, high above our heads when no snow is about, but occasionally completely blocked by heavy drifts. Next the bed of the gully runs up into a little cave, formed by the huge jammed stone that presents the only genuine obstacle in the ascent.

The block is long and narrow. It leaves just enough room on each side, between the walls of the gully, for a thin chimney. That on the right is very difficult to enter but comparatively easy to follow up. The other is designed differently; it leads the climber by a temptingly easy beginning into a position twenty-five feet up, that will in many cases pound him most distressingly, and his descent will be uncommonly awkward. Hence it is that the right-hand chimney was for nine years the only course adopted.

The process of backing-up is, as a rule, safe, though fatiguing. In the case of the Shamrock pitch, the leader will never find his attitudinising comfortable. If he starts from the shoulders of a companion, he can at any rate enter the chimney; but its walls are undercut, and he needs all his strength to brace himself firmly between them. A little higher and there is risk of jamming too well. Twenty feet up he has to turn towards the block and work up over a shelf on to the scree above the pitch. It is not easy for his companions to follow on, even with the aid of the rope.

The left-hand route was climbed in winter. Sundry weak holds were frozen into position, but the rounded top of the great block was glazed completely, and the finish was of great difficulty. Dr. Collier had told me that he thought the upper portion just possible, and our party of December, 1896, decided to try it. I started up the first twenty feet and then found the glaze of ice too heavy for further advance. It was not very difficult to traverse out of the chimney into a wider gully on the left; but after rising a few feet in this, the great smooth slabs in front completely barred the way, and I attempted to return to the chimney. This could not be effected, and hitching the rope over two small excrescences on the wall I climbed down the retaining ridge and rejoined my companions. This was very unsatisfactory, though I was glad enough to be in safety again. We had a long discussion about the pitch, and referred to many engineering principles. At last I suggested that the lightest member of the party, weighing not more than nine stones, should take the lead, and that I should follow on closely as far as the difficult spot. There I proposed to brace firmly in the chimney and thrust him straight up to the frozen grass above. He looked at me apologetically and said that he would go up if I insisted on it, but would rather hear of some different plan that deprived him of the honour of leading. Then a bold but heavy man spoke up and volunteered to take his place. It was my turn to decline, and we felt completely at a loss. At last I went up again to the turning-point of the previous venture, and for the sake of safety threaded my rope through two or three jammed stones in the chimney. Then followed the longest member close behind me, likewise threading his rope. I climbed on to his head--it had been tested many times before--and then got him to steady my left foot on a frozen hold half a yard higher. An ice-axe was then passed up from the cave, and the pick rammed hard into the frozen grass above the boulder. The handle then offered enough stay to enable me to pull up over the smooth icy surface of the boulder, and the pitch was conquered. I cut steps up the snow to a safe place for belaying the others, and they then followed singly on a long rope. The rest of the gully was simple walking.

SHAMROCK CHIMNEY.--This is shown very clearly in the photograph facing page 271, as a series of vertical pitches almost in a single straight line from top to bottom of the Shamrock. We take to the first set of easy rocks on the north side of the great gully, and for about 160 feet climb over irregularly disposed crags interspersed with grass. These are usually wet and slippery, and they finish at the extreme south end of the grassy terrace crossing the Shamrock face.

We keep straight up and enter the lower extremity of a narrow chimney thirty feet high. Its two pitches are scarcely separated, and require careful climbing up to the narrow cavern on the next grassy ledge. The first real difficulty now lies in front. Ten feet of steep smooth rock are to be climbed before we can enter the foot of the next chimney, and the leader will do well to accept a shoulder-up and a lift with an axe in tackling this wall. It is practically impossible in icy weather. The chimney is easy enough, with plenty of jammed stones for a distance of twenty-five feet; but it then dwindles down to nothing, and a very exposed bit of work follows for the leader, who has to crawl up some six or eight feet of rock without any respectable holds. This brings him to another small cavern just sufficiently large for him to take breath and recover his strength. He cannot see his party below, and in manipulating the rope for the second man he will need to shout his directions. Then follow a short traverse to the right, and an upward scramble over more broken ground to an interesting splayed-out chimney.

Thence a steep grass slope takes us up to an open gully with a great overhanging boulder. It may be passed straight over or by a through route, and we are then at the end of the chimney climbing. A turn to the right leads to a splendid ridge that runs to the top of the Shamrock, and offers a finish as charming as that of the Scawfell Pinnacle from the Low Man. The work is over when a perched flat-topped stone is mounted; and then we walk to the summit of the Shamrock and down by easy ledges to the screes above Walker’s Gully.

PILLAR ROCK, JORDAN CLIMBS.--Very easy scrambling from the upper fell will bring the climber to the summit of Pisgah. There is a short chimney on the east side that leads to the same spot; it is easy to enter, but the exit at the top is very stiff. The view of the near wall of the High Man is interesting, and there is ample opportunity for studying the two direct climbs before descending to the gap. They are both difficult, but the rocks are so much scratched by nailed boots that the difficulty does not consist in finding the way up. It is generally supposed to be impossible to descend into the gap from Pisgah, but inspection will show that there is a series of small ledges a little to the west, down which a safe passage can be effected. The Left Pisgah route starts up at once from the _col_. The holds are only moderately good for the first thirty feet, and fail to give satisfaction when wet or icy. Next it is possible to force the body into a narrow crack, and for a little while the climber can cease his strugglings and rest himself. Above this the rock is more broken and the holds are better. A thin leaf of rock is crossed and a downward view obtained of the Right Pisgah final chimney. Then the slope is eased off, and the cairn on the High Man is but a couple of yards away.

The Right Pisgah route is generally started low down the East Jordan Gully. This offers pleasant hand-and-foot work, but no difficulty whatever up to the Jordan. But before reaching the gap a square recess on the right is entered, and then a passage is made over smooth rocks to a clean-cut right-angled corner forty feet high on the south-east side of the High Man. It is just possible to traverse round from the Jordan to the top of the square recess, and so up over the slabs to the corner, but the variation is not worth much.

The crack climb that now starts straight up the corner is one of the neatest things on the Pillar Rock. The right wall is used for steadying purposes when, half-way up, a jammed stone makes it necessary to emerge from the crack. Some of the holds have splintered away during the last few years, but there are yet enough to satisfy one’s needs. The finish is a splendid pull up with the arms on to the leaf of rock already referred to at the top of the Left Pisgah climb.

SLAB AND NOTCH ROUTE.--The upper part of the Great Chimney offers no difficulty to the climber. Its southern boundary is a long narrow buttress called the ‘Curtain,’ stretching from the top of Walker’s Gully, to the summit of the High Man. Viewed in profile from the Pillar Fell, the Curtain shows three distinct notches two-thirds of the way up; they are about thirty feet above a slab set at an angle of thirty degrees, and attainable by rough scrambling from the foot of the East Jordan Gully. The easy route passes along this slab, directly upwards to the middle notch and thence round the Curtain to the bed of the Great Chimney. The walk along the slab is to some people a critical undertaking, for a slip would have very serious consequences. A thin crack on the line of march makes the course safer, unless ice or snow have filled it up, but it is not an unusual sight to see men tackling the walk on all-fours. The Curtain may be crossed at the lowest notch, the ‘Ledge,’ by good firm rocks, and the Great Chimney entered on the other side. Formerly it was the usual course to reach the bed of the chimney at the lower part of the steep grass by what was called the ‘Eight-foot Drop.’ But there is no need to drop at all; an easy traverse from either the Notch or the Ledge brings the climber above the steep grass, and virtually at the end of his cragwork. The chimney finishes with scree, and lands the climber within a few feet of the cairn on his left.

VARIATIONS ON THE EAST FACE.--It is possible to make a way straight up the Great Chimney from its foot, joining the easy route about a hundred feet up. Haskett Smith took this course in 1884, commencing the climb on the stepped buttresses of the Curtain. Since then the rock has had time to loosen a little, and climbers very rarely enter the chimney that way.

The _Pendlebury traverse_ is an excellent variation of the ordinary route, a popular scramble first indicated by Professor R. Pendlebury, of Cambridge. From the slab the way lies straight up to the notch in the Curtain, and then along a horizontal ledge in its south face as far as the corner where it meets the High Man. Thence up the corner is straightforward chimney-work, and on emergence at the top the cairn will be visible close at hand on the left.

The traverse looks difficult until it is closely approached, when it will be found that handholds abound on the wall, and that the ledge is perfectly firm and continuous across the whole width of the Curtain.

The chimney in the corner of the south side of the Curtain can be entered much lower down. From the slab a way lies straight up into it, but the grass holds are not particularly pleasant if wet, and the first thirty feet are severe.

From the head of Walker’s Gully a way may be found to the Low Man, below the immense slabs that crown the north-east buttresses. It is best to climb the Shamrock first and prospect the route. Sheep occasionally manage to get across, and the _Old Wall_ was built many years ago to prevent their passage, but it is now ruined. Sometimes, ignoring Badminton, they still venture across without a rope, and their weaker members are liable to get crag-bound. Climbers can tell many tales of famished sheep found in appalling situations on the Pillar Rock. They are too weak to resist the slipping on of a rope, and are simply hauled or slung out of every difficulty till a safe pasturage is reached.

THE WEST CLIMB.--This was the route first discovered. It is much longer than any of the ways on the south or east side, and possesses but few interesting details. It is more popular as a descent than as an ascent.

It is seemingly impossible to climb directly up the west wall of the High Man, but in the walk down the west screes it will be noticed that the rocks of the Low Man are more broken, and that several short scree gullies sloping upwards to the left mark a rough route straight towards the Low Man cairn. The course is best examined from a distance, across the great western gully; it lies as close to the High Man as is possible without undertaking anything but gully scrambling. Not infrequently climbers find themselves astray on narrow grassy ledges too much to the right. I experienced the same thing myself when first attempting to find the way up, and found the ascent by no means so easy as report had credited the west climb.

From the level of the Low Man the way lies very nearly along the sky-line to the highest point. The High Man is struck at the end of a square corner in the rock, and there is some excellent work for the arms during the next thirty feet of ascent.

It is easier to turn over slightly to the east side, and up by the great jagged boulders on the crest of the ridge. The _Slingsby crack_ is a short but rather stiff variation a little on the right or western side of this route and is particularly interesting. Formerly a loose block at its upper end gave the climber an occasional scare, but there is nothing unsafe now in the form of detached boulders, and the ridge can be followed with confidence to the High Man cairn. Nail marks are strongly in evidence all through the crag-work; the leader should not attempt the route if snow or rain prevents their recognition, unless he is already perfectly acquainted with the way.

THE NORTH CLIMB.--For several months after the first ascent it was difficult to learn anything of the details of the route up the Ennerdale face of the Pillar Rock. The only way was to persuade some one who had been up to take the lead and act as guide; for a complicated course that had taken Haskett Smith eight or nine years to work out was not likely to be mastered easily by any one who had not made a special study of the north face.

My own chance came in the summer of 1893. Mr. John Robinson called for me at Buttermere one fine afternoon, and took me off to Ennerdale with another friend, Mr. F. W. Hill. We left the village at two o’clock, and were back again after a successful ascent by eight in the evening; whence it may be inferred that Buttermere is as good a starting-point for the Pillar Rock as Wastdale or Seatoller.

Our guide led us rapidly by the shortest route over Scarth Gap, and across Ennerdale to the foot of the Pillar Rock. Then a fifty-feet length of rope made its first appearance; it had been hidden in a bag during our walk, lest we should alarm the folks about Gatesgarth. We tied ourselves up, and made for the eastern end of the terrace across the Nose.

Robinson then started along the terrace, and in a few yards scrambled up to a shelf on the left, five or six feet high, which gave us easy access to the lower portion of the Savage Gully. This latter has never been climbed along its whole length. If the gully were moderately easy, the north climb would be far less complex. But for a great portion of its length the side walls are at right angles to each other; the corner is nearly vertical, and the only resting places are diminutive, grass-grown ledges placed too far apart for any safe employment of the rope. The right wall of the gully forms part of a conspicuous buttress on the north face, whose western side is much more broken and less dangerous to ascend.

The route that was being shown us lay along the Savage Gully for about sixty feet, then across to the west side of the buttress and up a vertical branch gully with sundry small chimneys in it. Higher up, we were told, it would be necessary to round a cliff still further to the right, by means of the _Stomach traverse_, to render further ascent possible. We objected to the inelegant name, but were too far advanced to hesitate on the score of a faulty title. Above the traverse our climbing would be easier, until the course returned to the Savage Gully again. That was to be our _mauvais pas_, and after settling it the scramble to the Low Man, and thence to the highest cairn, would be scarcely more than a walk.

So spoke our guide, and having delivered himself at some length, with an occasional appropriate anecdote thrown in, he concentrated his attention on the small pitch that marked our point of arrival at the Savage Gully. It was a wall seven feet high with indifferent grassholds at the top, and in scrambling up care was needed to avoid dislodging loose stones near the edge. It was then easy to clamber into a small cave somewhat to the left, and out again by a twisted tunnel at the back. Thence Robinson worked upwards over broken ground for a few yards, until the point was reached where we were to leave the gully. The direct route looked feasible for some distance ahead, but there was no questioning the fact of its severity, and we had not come out that day for exploration.

A divergence was made along an easy traverse towards the right, to a short and narrow chimney that already bore traces of many previous struggles. Wherever the rocks were clean and free from scree, we could plainly see the scratches of nailed boots along the route. It was here that we were rounding the great buttress of Savage Gully, and after a little rough-ledge work we arrived at a square corner with a grassy floor. Straight up from this floor a cleft offered safe passage. It was plentifully supplied with holds, though some discrimination was necessary in selecting the firmest. The climbing was delightful, and zest was given to it by the magnificent situation. The corner was not so deeply impressed in the buttress as to prevent our recognition of the vastness of the cliff we were slowly ascending. The view downwards just included the little grass platform, and beyond that the wild and steep fellside at the foot of the precipice, already some hundreds of feet below us.

We kept up the direct route so long as we were able. Then the cleft in the corner suddenly dwindled down into the thinnest of cracks, and it was obvious that a change of tactics would be necessary. The left wall was faultlessly smooth. The right for the most part looked just as inaccessible. The grass ledge on which we were standing really seemed to suggest finality, the end of our upward progress, and I turned to Robinson inquiringly with the impression that some wonderful engineering process with the rope was now to be explained to us. We knew that such was necessary on the climb, and were prepared by the situation to see its application immediately.

But the solution of the difficulty was of the simplest character. A few feet from the corner the smooth right wall was split by a single crack that passed up at an angle of perhaps thirty degrees and terminated at a notch that broke the clean-cut outline of the rock facing us. From the notch it certainly seemed as though nothing could be done further, even if we got so far. Nevertheless, we were assured that when once we were there all doubts would vanish, and we should have the easiest hundred feet of scrambling in the whole day’s expedition. The crack was the famous _Stomach traverse_; it was reached as long ago as 1884 by Haskett Smith in his early exploration of the north face; and the name, which had only recently been given to it, was intended to show how the passage was supposed to be tackled. One of Willink’s illustrations in the Badminton, showing an intrepid cragsman crawling along a ledge from left to right, is sometimes criticised as an exaggeration of the difficulties that rock-climbers have to overcome. This traverse before us was not so easy as the one so cleverly depicted by the artist. It sloped upwards, and the ledge was not wide enough for the whole body. We were in no sense precariously placed, for the cleft enabled us to wedge with security; but the right half of the body was outside the leaf of rock on which we hung, and the right leg found no support on the vertical wall.

Some twenty feet of wriggling brought us each in turn to the critical corner, and there to our amazement we had merely to get up and walk away. The wall we had passed was the last obstacle separating us from a long stretch of steep grass chimneys and broken rocks. These extend from the Nose at the foot of the crags up to the final difficulty, now only a hundred feet above us, and offer the easier route up the north face. Our own course by the Savage Gully was by far the more entertaining one, and under most conditions decidedly safer than the other.

From the notch we could either walk straight up to the cave-pitch in the corner now facing us, or work easily round a rib of rock on the right and join the other route. We chose the former, and found the pitch decidedly stiff, the main trouble being to get satisfaction out of the diminutive hand-holds on the upper surface of the top boulder. However, it was time to be thankful for small mercies, and confidence carried us up safely.

A party coming up the easy way would start from the terrace on the Nose, close to its highest point. Their route would be quite straightforward, though occasionally the question as to the safest movement might introduce a slight digression. The great wall of the Low Man on their right limits in the most definite manner all westerly climbing, and their only trouble would be in negotiating two narrow chimneys and some of the grass ledges, where the tufts are unpleasantly loose and the slopes very slippery. The fact is that this way is not much to be recommended; until it joins the other there is little merit to justify the variation. If parties are certain they can finish the second half of the ascent, they can assuredly climb the lower portion _via_ the Savage Gully and the Stomach traverse.

We halted for a moment above our cave-pitch and looked around at the crags. From a distant survey, such as that indicated in the photograph facing page 271, it is impossible to realize that so large an open space of easy ground can exist on the north face. But our opportunity for advance was strictly confined to one direction. Further westwards we could not go; the great wall was unassailable. To the east we could have perhaps traversed away until progress was barred by the narrow branch of the Savage Gully, which we had utilized lower down. The northerly direction of course led down the easy route, and the southerly pointed to an uncompromising extension of the great wall towards the Savage Gully.

We were led straight up the small scree to the _split block_, a huge boulder at the foot of the wall. The leader disappeared into a deep crack, and after a few moments appeared at the top of the block, having mounted by a secondary fissure that cut into the left portion of the boulder. The movement was quite unexpected, and Hill and I were rather startled at the aspect of things from the summit of the split block. It stood at the top of the narrow branch of the Savage Gully already referred to, and the view vertically down this branch was calculated to make us hesitate before taking the next step.

This was the _Strid_. Close up against the wall that blocked the head of the gully, a long stride was to be taken across to a narrow ‘mantelshelf’ on the other side. There was no difficulty in the step, but the consequences of any slip were so obvious that we were not surprised to learn how respectfully the Strid is usually regarded. The mantelshelf led us along under the wall for a few yards, and an upper ledge was mounted. We were now close to the Savage Gully again, and Robinson prepared to be let down into it on the rope. We were adopting the tactics of Haskett Smith’s party in the first ascent. Robinson was to climb down the wall of the gully by means of an irregular crack twenty-five feet long, using the rope to steady himself during the descent. At the foot of the crack he would be able to step into the bed of the gully, and thence, after mounting it for a few feet, effect an easy passage up the opposite side. He was then to unrope, and Hill was to let me down in the same way, there being plenty of friction between the rope and the rocks to enable him to hold my weight in case of a slip. When safely landed in the gully, I was to take the rope up to Robinson and wait the issue of events.

These went off without a hitch. The crack was difficult, though not impossible for one man to descend alone; but I am convinced that a man attempting the climb single-handed would be running great risk if he proceeded without some sort of belaying with a rope. The little story is well known of the youth who could not understand why he as third and last man of his party had to be left behind on the ledge; he had examined the crack and was certain he could climb down safely without support from above. Nay more, he insisted on demonstrating the fact, and when three-quarters of the way to the bed of the gully his feet slipped and his handholds failed. Luckily the others were able to prevent a serious fall, and the young man’s ‘climbing down’ was strictly metaphorical.

Robinson then rapidly swarmed up to the left of the gully, and, after mounting forty feet, traversed to the right into a long scree-shoot that ended abruptly some twenty-five feet vertically above our solitary companion on the ledge. Upwards the scree led straight to the summit level of the Low Man, and two of us were of course in a position to attain this point in a couple of minutes. But there was the third, to manipulate, and Robinson proceeded to take out a short, spare rope from his sack and expound the method of using the ‘stirrup.’

He tied a loop on to one end of his spare rope, large enough for a foot to be comfortably slipped therein, and flung that end down to Hill. I operated with the other rope, sending an end down for Hill to tie round his waist in the usual manner. The object of the process was to get the third man up with the least expenditure of energy on our part; in fact, to make Hill do all his own lifting. The wall was not so complicated in design as to render it impossible to haul him straight up like a bale of goods. But neither he nor I had till then seen an application of the stirrup-rope, and we had come out to be educated. There are many places where the method is well worth employing.

The operations commenced by Hill’s fixing a foot in the stirrup and lifting it a couple of feet as Robinson hauled up his rope. Then, with Robinson simply holding on firmly, Hill straightened himself on the stirrup, using it as a foothold, while I pulled up the couple of feet of slack in the waist-rope. Next it was my turn to hold hard as Hill raised his stirrup foot, and then Robinson’s to keep the foot firm while Hill lifted himself on to it. These two moves were repeated again and again alternately. All through the process the ropes were held as free from slack as possible, any upward movement of Hill’s engaged foot or body being responded to promptly by Robinson or myself respectively. It will be perceived, if the description is as clear as I want it to be, that all the actual lifting of Hill’s weight he managed himself during the straightening-out on the stirrup, and that we others were at most called upon to hold only his weight. Even this much stress on our hands we could avoid by partial belaying, though in that particular spot there were no entirely suitable projecting rocks that could be utilized as belaying-pins.

Bit by bit Hill worked up the wall, till at last his head and shoulders appeared over the rounded coping at our feet, and he scrambled on to the scree. Then we all sat down and Robinson told us tales about that particular locality. Among others he gave us one to emphasize the practical lesson we had just been having on the use of the stirrup-rope. A famous climber, indeed he was sometime president of the Alpine Club, and in a vague, traditional sort of way years before he had fallen some hundreds of feet down a vertical gully hard by, without coming to any harm except that of finding his name ever afterwards associated with the gully; well, this famous climber was coming up that same wall by means of the stirrup-rope, and the zealous operatives above more than responded to his slightest movements. He lifted his foot a few inches, they hauled up the stirrup-rope a few yards, and anticipating that he might find the alternations a little laborious, proceeded to pull him up by sheer strength of goodwill. Thus his attached foot appeared first over the edge, and the remainder of his person followed in some confusion. So, at any rate, the story went.

Sitting as we were with our faces towards Buttermere, the great wall bore away to the left, and our scree gully marked its eastern limit. A horizontal crack extended for several feet across the wall, starting from the top of the pitch below us. Only its end could be seen, but by carefully working down to the corner on the left, and looking across the face, we could see the way it cut clean into the rock. This was the notorious _hand-traverse_, by which it was just possible to reach our scree gully from the ledge below without the preliminary descent into the Savage Gully.

A few minutes’ halt and we continued our course. There was no doubt or difficulty in reaching the Low Man, and thence following the ridge to the junction with the West Climb. A quarter of an hour saw us at the High Man cairn, and another five minutes at the foot of the Central Jordan. The ropes were stowed away again in the sack, and Robinson rapidly strode across the screes and down the corridor behind the Shamrock. In a phenomenally short time we were crossing the Liza stream, and, without being allowed to halt, a bee-line was drawn for us over to Scarth Gap by our untiring leader. Luckily for his followers, the name of this pass, which is sometimes called Scarf Gap, reminded him of a very good story concerning another famous climber who went to an evening party without a dress-tie. We were told the story and recovered breath sufficiently to continue our journey to Buttermere. I wish now that I had not been so fatigued, so that I might have remembered the whole anecdote and given it here in all detail.

THE HAND-TRAVERSE.--Nearly two years after the ascent described in the previous section, Dr. Collier showed me a way of avoiding the Savage Gully in the North Climb by following a direct route to the upper screes. The plan is to work to the extreme east corner of the ledge that succeeds the ‘mantelshelf,’ and when a narrow overhanging chimney is reached, to swarm up the steep buttress on its left. It looks particularly dangerous, but there is an excellent hold for the hands just round the corner of the buttress, and when the first three feet of ascent are accomplished the rest feels comparatively easy.

On the same occasion we each in turn ventured on the _hand-traverse_ from above. The place has already been referred to; it was known for some time that the crack could be reached from the terrace below, and Mr. Solly showed in 1891 that it could be followed to its left-hand extremity at the scree gully. It is so named because the climber hangs by his hands, with no footholds at all for the greater part of its length, and traverses across the face by sheer strength of his arms. Collier and I were well satisfied concerning the security of the crack itself. We went to the further end and back again, without coming across any place where the holds were treacherous. They were probably more satisfying to the grip than an ordinary horizontal bar, on account of the acute edge of the rock. On the other hand, we had no opportunity of trying the ascent from the terrace, which promised to be rather fatiguing for the arms, and which might render them useless for the traverse itself.

On Whit Monday, 1896, a chance came for tackling the pitch in this new way. It had been successfully accomplished once, and twice had the climber’s strength of grip failed him when half-way across. So, at any rate, we learnt by hearsay at Wastdale. Perhaps it ought to be added that in one case it was the leader of the party who fell off, and the rope saved him in a manner scarcely short of miraculous; in the other case the rope was held from the scree gully, and the climber only swung out on it. Our Whitsuntide party were willing that I should try, and carefully measured out just a sufficiency of rope for me to reach the crack. Then two of them stood together at the western extremity of the terrace, and shouldered me up the first bad bit. There was every reason to be quick, as resting-places were absent where the strain on the arms could be eased. In twenty-five feet I reached the crack and halted for a moment on a scanty foothold before trusting to the ledge. Then came the swing off and a hasty sliding of the hands along the sharp edge. The first bit was about eight feet long; then that particular crack terminated abruptly in the wall, and another, two feet higher, continued across in the same easterly direction. The lift of the body up to the second crack was trying, but beyond this critical point the movement was horizontal. It was somewhat clumsy--the scraping of the body along the rough surface of the rock, with the legs held clear; but my sole thought was to reach the end of the traverse twelve feet away, and no consideration of style was entertained. In a very short time, though it seemed far too long, the end of the wall was attained, and it only remained to drag myself up to the scree.

The rest of the party preferred to mount the buttress by Collier’s route indicated in a previous paragraph. I think the hand-traverse has not been attempted since, and it is perhaps just as well. It is scarcely less than suicidal to try conclusions with this variation unless the climber has full confidence in his strength of grip, and unless he has already tested his powers of endurance of long-continued strain in the arms. But with the leader of the party already at the head of the pitch, no matter which way he got there, it involves no serious risk for the others to follow by this route. The last on the rope had better come up over the buttress.