Part 14

The reconnaissance of 1921 had established certain facts of the first importance. The first was as to the proper season for the attempt. The rainfall in the Himalaya that year was abnormal, and the monsoon began and finished later than usual. But it was clear that between its end and the coming of winter there was not sufficient time to give the climbers a chance of good weather. The next attempt must obviously be made before the coming of the monsoon--that is, in May or June. The second fact established was the best way of attempting the summit. The only feasible route lay from the Chang La up the subsidiary ridge to the shoulder of the North-East _arête_. The distance from the Chang La to the top was not more than two miles, and the rise not more than 6,000 feet. So far as the climbers on the pass could judge--and their conclusion was supported by numerous photographs from other points--there seemed to be no very great difficulties on this route in the shape of steep rocks. It looked as if it might be practicable to find a site for a camp at about 26,000 feet. By this route the North-East _arête_ would be reached at about 28,000 feet. The thousand feet from that point to the summit looked slightly more difficult, and appeared to possess certain rook towers, which, however, might be circumvented. The actual top seemed to be a cap of snow with a steep blunt edge on the side of the ridge.

The transport question must always be difficult. The thousand feet from the East Bongbuk Glacier to the Chang La, half of which was very steep, might give trouble to laden coolies, especially earlier in the season when the ice was uncovered by snow. An advanced base camp on the Chang La would, of course, be essential if a high camp were to be made at 26,000 feet. But the physical problem might be regarded as solved--at any rate as far as the shoulder of the North-East _arête_. On the physiological question little light had been thrown. The climbers in September 1921 were all more or less tired from spending long periods in high camps, and could not be regarded as at the top of their form. Yet in the case of most members of the party the process of acclimatization had been rapid, and Mr. Mallory on the Chang La was remarkably fit. What would happen, however, at the higher altitudes? The effect of these upon the human body had not been decided.

The conclusion from the year's work was that while no insuperable difficulty had been proved in the problem, yet for success there must be a combination of happy chances in the shape of weather, the condition of the snow, the endurance of the transport coolies, and the bodily fitness of the climbers. A second attempt would be justified, but it could not be regarded with anything like confidence. The enterprise was seriously and responsibly envisaged, and no better expression of the spirit of those who undertook it can be found than in Mr. Mallory's own words: "It might be possible for two men to struggle somehow to the summit, disregarding every other consideration. It is a different matter to climb the mountain as mountaineers would have it climbed. Principles, time-honoured in the Alpine Club, must, of course, be respected in the ascent of Mount Everest. The party must keep a margin of safety. It is not to be a mad enterprise, rashly pushed on regardless of danger. The ill-considered acceptance of any and every risk has no part in the essence of persevering courage. A mountaineering enterprise may keep sanity and sound judgment, and remain an adventure. And of all principles to which we hold, the first is that of mutual help. What is to be done for a man who is sick or abnormally exhausted at these high altitudes? His companions must see to it that he is taken down at the first opportunity, and with an adequate escort; and the obligation is the same whether he be sahib or coolie. If we ask a man to carry our loads up the mountain, we must care for his welfare at need."

III

The 1922 party had as its leader Brigadier-General the Hon. C. G. Bruce, the supreme authority upon the Himalaya, to the exploration of which he had devoted much of his life. He knew the hill people, too, as no other man knew them, and his advice was invaluable in the selection of porters. The climbers were Mr. Mallory, Mr. Finch (who had been selected for the expedition of the year before, but had been unable to accompany it), Mr. Norton, and Mr. Somervell--all of whom were trained mountaineers; and Captain Geoffrey Bruce, who had never done any serious climbing before. Major Morshead was also of the party. The 1921 expedition had discovered what seemed a possible route to the summit by the North Col, and the new expedition proposed to follow its tracks. It was stronger in _personnel_ than its predecessor, and much stronger in equipment, for it had learned many lessons from the experiences of the year before. Among other things, it carried a supply of oxygen in bottles, and the necessary apparatus to use it.

The party, being resolved to make the attempt before the monsoon broke, made straight for the old advanced base camp in the Kharta valley. Thanks to General Bruce's consummate skill in the organization of mountain travel, it reached that point on the date fixed and with everybody in good health. The next duty was to establish an advanced camp one stage before the North Col, up to which porters could be brought without undue fatigue. The summit of the Lhakpa La was abandoned, and an advanced base, known as Camp No. 3, was established under the west side of the pass, close to the East Rongbuk Glacier.

The next step was to ascertain whether the road to the North Col was practicable, for when Mr. Mallory's party had travelled it the year before there had been fresh snow, and at this early season there was a danger of bare ice. Mr. Somervell and Mr. Mallory, on 13th May, with one coolie, set forth from Camp No. 3 on a reconnaissance, and found that the route they had followed the year before was one sheet of glittering ice. They saw, however, that they could cut their way into a corridor filled with good snow, which would lead them up to the foot of the final slope, and that final slope proved also to be snow and not ice. On the North Col they found a difficulty they had not looked for. Between the point at which they reached it and Everest itself was an ice cliff, which the year before they had circumvented. Now they found their way barred by a hopeless crevasse. Ultimately they discovered a route at the far end of the ice cliff, and reached the level snow from which the north ridge of Everest springs.

The next few days were occupied in bringing up supplies to Camp 4 on the North Col. They had only nine porters available, and this decided them that it would not be feasible to make two camps on the face of the mountain. They resolved to attempt to make one camp at about 26,000 feet, and from that to make their final effort.

On the 19th the four climbers, Mr. Mallory, Mr. Norton, Major Morshead, and Mr. Somervell, left Camp 3 at a quarter to nine in the morning, and an hour after mid-day were busy putting up tents and arranging stores at Camp 4 on the North Col. The sun set at 4.30, and they turned in for the night in the best of spirits. On the morrow they proposed to carry up two of the small tents, two double sleeping-sacks, food for a day and a half, cooking-pots, and two thermos flasks. They would make four loads of the stuff, which would give two porters to each load, with a man to spare.

On 20th May, Mr. Mallory got up at 5 a.m., and found that there was no sign of life in the tents in which the nine porters were quartered. The coolies had shut themselves in so hermetically that they were all unwell, and four of them were suffering badly from mountain-sickness. Only five were able to embark on the day's work. Breakfast was a slow business, because everything was frozen hard, and the dish of spaghetti which they had promised themselves could only be prepared after an elaborate process of thawing.

A start was made at 7 a.m., and everything went smoothly at first, for ropes had been fixed between their camp and the col itself, so as to help them on their return. From the col a broad snow ridge went up at an easy angle, and all the climbers felt that bodily fitness which is the assurance of success.

Then their troubles began. The first was the cold. The sun had no more warmth in it than a candle, and a bitter wind began to blow from the west. They came to an end of the ridge of stones on which they had been progressing easily, and realized that they must get some shelter from the wind by moving to the east side of the shoulder. Step-cutting was now necessary, and at that height the exertion required was extraordinarily severe. Moreover, the cold was telling upon them, and the porters especially suffered badly. After some 300 feet of steps they rested about noon under the shelter of some rocks at 25,000 feet.

It seemed to them that they could not get their loads much higher, and that they had better look out for a camp, for the porters had to return to the North Col. But a camping ground was not easy to find. At last, on the east side of the ridge, they discovered a steep slab, up to which they could level the ground. It was a poor place, for the incline was sharp, most of the floor was composed of broken rocks, and men lying down would inevitably slip on top of each other. There, however, they placed the little tents, each with its double sleeping-bag, and melted snow for their makeshift supper. The porters started back for the North Col, and the climbers, two in each bed, did their best to keep warm. All four had suffered a good deal from the cold. Mr. Norton's ear was badly swollen, three of Mr. Mallory's fingers were touched with the frost, and Major Morshead was chilled to the bone and clearly unwell.

The wind dropped in the evening, and during the night fresh snow fell. At 6.50 on the morning of 21st May they crawled from their sleeping-bags and made a laborious and exiguous breakfast, for only one thermos flask had turned up. At eight o'clock they started, none of them feeling their best after the stuffy, headachy night. Major Morshead was unable to go with them, for his illness had increased, and most regretfully the other three went on without him.

A good deal of fresh snow had fallen, but the first hours of climbing were not very difficult. The worst trouble was the perverse stratification of the mountain, for all the ledges tilted the wrong way. Slowly they crawled up, first regaining the ridge by turning west, and then following the ridge itself in the direction of the point of the North-East _arête_. They decided that they must turn back at about two o'clock if they were to make the descent in reasonable safety. Besides, they had to consider Major Morshead left alone in Camp 5.

At 2.15 they reached the head of the rocks, about 500 feet below the point where the north shoulder joined the North-East _arête_. Here they had a clear view of the summit. The aneroid gave the elevation as 26,800 feet, but it is possible that it may have been nearly 200 feet more. Their advance had for some time been reduced to a very slow crawl, but none of the party were really exhausted. It was wise, however, to turn while they had sufficient strength to get back to Camp 4. They tried moving westward, where there seemed to be more snow, but they found that the snow slopes were a series of slabs with an ugly tilt under a thin covering of new snow; so they went back to the ridge and followed their old tracks. At four o'clock they reached Camp 5, and picked up Major Morshead and their tents and sleeping-bags. After that the going became more difficult, as the fresh-fallen snow had made even easy ground treacherous. One slip did occur, and the three men were held only by the rope secured round Mr. Mallory's ice axe.

The descent now became a race with the fast-gathering darkness. When they got to the snow ridge they could find no trace of the steps they had made the day before, and had to cut them over again. At this point they were in sight of the watchers far below at Camp 3 on the glacier. Major Morshead was suffering severely and could only move a few steps at a time. As the night drew in, lightning began to flicker from the clouds in the west, but happily the wind did not rise. They were soon at the crevasses and the ice cliff, and, as the air was calm, it was possible to light a lantern to guide them. They hunted desperately to find the fixed rope, which would take them down to the terrace, where they could see their five tents awaiting them, but the rope was covered with snow, and at that moment the lantern gave out. Happily somebody hooked up the buried rope, and after that it was plain going to the tents.

They reached them at 11.30, and could find no fuel or cooking-pots. Their mouths were parched with thirst, and the best beverage they could concoct was a mixture of jam and snow with frozen condensed milk. Mr. Mallory ascribes to the influence of this stuff "the uncontrollable shudderings, spasms of muscular contraction in belly and back, which I suffered in my sleeping-bag, and which caused me to sit up and inhale again great whiffs from the night air, as though the habit of deep breathing had settled upon me indispensably."

The four men did not waste time next morning on the North Col, for they were tormented by thirst and hunger. It took them six hours to reach Camp 3, for they had to make a staircase beneath the new snow which the porters could use, in order to fetch down their baggage, since they did not intend to spend the night at Camp 3 without their sleeping-bags. At midday they were back in comparative comfort, with certain solid conclusions as the result of the venture. One was as to the difficulties of new snow and the precariousness of the weather; another was as to the unexpected capacity of the porters. But the most important was as to the need of oxygen. They had reached a point very little below 27,000 feet, and that left 2,000 feet to be surmounted before the summit was reached. For success, a higher camp was needed than Camp 5, and the men who started from it must, if possible, have an extra stimulus to counteract the malign effects of altitude. If Everest chose to clothe itself with air containing less oxygen than a man needed, the defect must be supplied. If a climber used extra clothes to counteract the cold, he must use some extra device to supplement the atmosphere.

IV

We come now to the second attempt of 1922, in which oxygen was used. Certain eminent scientists at home had held that Everest could never be conquered without its aid, and the expedition had brought a very full equipment--oxygen stored in light steel cylinders, and a somewhat complex apparatus for its use. There had been oxygen drill parades among the party, and perhaps it might have been well had they used it straight away for one main attempt, instead of making the first effort without it. Unfortunately the apparatus needed overhauling, and it was not till 22nd May, when Mr. Mallory and his party were coming down from the mountain, that four sets were ready for use. As to the legitimacy of such a device in mountaineering, Mr. Finch's arguments are final.

"Few of us, I think, who stop to ponder for a brief second, will deny that our very existence in this enlightened twentieth century, with all its amenities of modern civilization is ... 'artificial.' Most of us have learned to respect progress, and to appreciate the meaning and advantages of adaptability. For instance, it is a fairly firmly established fact that warmth is necessary to life. The mountaineer, acting on this knowledge, conserves, as far as possible, his animal heat by wearing especially warm clothing. No one demurs; it is the commonsense thing to do. He pours his hot tea from a thermos bottle--and never blushes! Nonchalantly, without fear of adverse criticism, he doctors up his insides with special heat- and energy-giving foods and stimulants! From the sun's ultra-violet rays and the wind's bitter cold he boldly dares to protect his eyes with Crookes' anti-glare glasses. Further, he wears boots that to the average layman look ridiculous! The use of caffeine, to supply just a little more buck to an almost worn-out frame, is not cavilled at, despite its being a synthetic drug, the manufacture of which involves the employment of complicated plant and methods. If science could prepare oxygen in tabloid form, or supply it to us in thermos flasks that we might imbibe it like our hot tea, the stigma of 'artificiality' would, perhaps, be effectually removed. But when it has to be carried in special containers, its whole essence is held to be altered, and, by using it, the mountaineer is taking a sneaking, unfair advantage of the mountain! In answer to this grave charge, I would remind the accuser that, by the inhalation of a little life-giving gas, the climber does not smooth away the rough rocks of the mountain, or still the storm; nor is he an Aladdin who, by a rub on a magic ring, is wafted by invisible agents to his goal. Oxygen renders available more of his store of energy, and so hastens his steps, but it does not, alas! fit the wings of Mercury to his feet. The logic of the anti-oxygenist is surely faulty."

On 20th May, Mr. Finch and Captain Geoffrey Bruce arrived at Camp 3, accompanied by Tejbir, one of the four Gurkha non-commissioned officers lent to the expedition. There they found the oxygen apparatus in bad condition, and had to tinker at it for four days. During this period they made a trial trip to Camp 4 on the North Col, using oxygen. A good deal of new step-cutting had to be done, for fresh snow had fallen, but in spite of that, the oxygen enabled them to get to the col in three hours and to return in fifty minutes, with halts to take three dozen photographs.

On 24th May, Mr. Finch, Captain Bruce, Captain Noel, the official photographer, and Tejbir, with twelve porters, went up to the North Col and camped for the night. Next morning, the 25th, brought a clear, windy sky, and at eight o'clock the twelve porters, with the camp outfit, provisions for one day, and the oxygen cylinders, started up the North ridge, followed an hour and a half later by Mr. Finch, Captain Bruce, and Tejbir, each carrying a load of over thirty pounds. All fifteen used oxygen. It was their intention to make a camp above 26,000 feet; but after one o'clock the wind freshened and snow began, so it was deemed advisable, in order to ensure the safe return of the porters to the North Col, to camp at 25,500 feet. The camping place was no better than that which Mr. Mallory had found; the place was on the actual crest of the ridge, for the west side was scourged by wind, and there was no good position on the east side. The tent was pitched on a little platform on the edge of precipices falling to the East Rongbuk Glacier, 4,000 feet below. The tent was secured as well as possible by guy-ropes; but when the climbers got into their sleeping-bags it was both blowing and snowing hard, and minute flakes filled the tent. Snow was melted, and a tepid meal was cooked--a really warm meal was out of the question, for at that altitude water boils at so low a temperature that a man can hold his hand in it without discomfort.

As the night closed in, the two climbers comforted themselves with the assurance that next day they would get to the top. But after sunset the wind increased to a gale so furious that even the ground sheet with the three men lying on it was lifted completely off the earth. They blocked up the small openings as well as they could, but before midnight everything inside was covered with spindrift. It was impossible to sleep. They had to be constantly on the watch to prevent the flaps being torn open and to hold the tent down; for they realized that if once the gale got hold of their shelter the whole outfit would be blown on to the glacier below.

Few adventurers have ever spent a more awful night. Tejbir had all the placidity of his race, and Captain Bruce, who was making his first serious mountaineering expedition on the highest of the world's mountains, was as cheerful as if he had been sleeping in an ordinary Alpine _cabane_. Here is Mr. Finch's own description:--

"By one o'clock on the morning of the 26th the gale reached its maximum. The wild flapping of the canvas made a noise like that of machine-gun fire. So deafening was it that we could scarcely hear each other speak. Later there came interludes of comparative lull, succeeded by bursts of storm more furious than ever. During such lulls we took it in turn to go outside to tighten up slackened guy-ropes, and also succeeded in tying down the tent more firmly with our Alpine rope. It was impossible to work in the open for more than three or four minutes at a stretch, so profound was the exhaustion induced by this brief exposure to the fierce cold wind."

Morning broke with no lull in the violence of the elements. They prepared a make-shift meal, and spent the forenoon hours in desperate anxiety. At midday the storm seemed to reach the summit of its fury, and matters were made more awkward by a stone cutting a great hole in the tent. Mercifully an hour later the wind suddenly dropped, and the anxious occupants of the tent could prospect the weather.

The sensible thing would have been to make a retreat to the North Col, but there was no thought of giving up. The party were unanimous in resolving to hang on and make the attempt the following day. With the last of their fuel they cooked supper--a frugal meal, for, since they had only carried provisions for one day, they were now on very short rations. As they settled down for the night voices were heard outside, and the porters from the North Col appeared, bringing thermos flasks of hot beef-tea and tea, sent by Captain Noel. In a little more comfort they tried to sleep. All three, however, were strained and weak from their labours of the past twenty-four hours, and they felt a numbing cold creeping up their limbs. Mr. Finch had the happy inspiration to use oxygen, and so arranged the apparatus that each could breathe a small quantity throughout the night. "The result was marvellous. We slept well and warmly. Whenever the tube delivering the gas fell out of Bruce's mouth as he slept, I could see him stir uneasily in the eerie greenish light of the moon as it filtered through the canvas. Then, half unconsciously replacing the tube, he would fall once more into a peaceful slumber."

Next morning, the 27th, they woke well and hungry, and after a struggle with their boots, which were frozen stiff, started off at 6.30, Captain Bruce and Mr. Finch carrying each over forty pounds, and Tejbir some fifty pounds. Their plan was to take Tejbir as far as the North-East shoulder, and there to relieve him of his load and send him back. It was cold clear weather, and the wind was not too strong. Presently, however, it began to freshen, and after they had gained a few hundred feet it was Tejbir who showed the first signs of weakness. He collapsed entirely, and had to be relieved of his cylinders and sent back. The height was about 26,000 feet, the highest point which any native had yet reached.