REVIEWS

1. THE MARCHING WIND.
2. KANGCHENJUNGA CHALLENGE.
3. MAN OF EVEREST (Tenzing).
4. THE MOUNTAIN WORLD. 1954.
5. THE MOUNTAIN WORLD. 1955.
6. LAND OF THE SHERPAS.
7. HIMALAYAN BARBARY.
8. TIBETAN MARCHES.
9. SOUTH COL.
10. EMPIRE SURVEY REVIEW NO. 98, VOL. XIII, OCTOBER, 1955.
11. K2: THE SAVAGE MOUNTAIN.
12. NANGA PARBAT.
13. TIBETAN JOURNEY.
14. AN INNOCENT ON EVEREST.
15. A MOUNTAIN CALLED NUN KUN.
16. ABODE OF SNOW.
17. ROAD TO RAKAPOSHI.
18. HIGH ADVENTURE.

 

 

THE MARCHING WIND. By Coi^onei, Leonard Clark.
Hutchinson, London. Pp. 346. 30 photos and 5 sketch maps.
₉1/2 "X6 1/2 ". 2IS.

The author has made a great contribution to our knowledge of an unexplored, and almost unvisited region of Central Asia. His chief incentive and primary objective was the great Amne Machin mountain range in the extreme north-east of Tibet, the existence of which had been reported by American pilots flying over the 'Hump' during World War II. The mountains had been observed, from some distance, by Dr. Joseph Rock about 25 years earlier. And before that, in 1908, by the German, Von Filchner. Colonel Clark had already made four visits to China, the last having been on special service behind the Japanese lines during World War II. So he did not lack qualifications. The Amne Machin runs roughly from south-east to north-west about 80 miles south of the great Koko Nor lake, and within a great bend eastward of the Yellow River. Dr. Rock describes it as 'One of the grandest mountain ranges of all Asia.’—'And the central peak towers to more than 28,000 feet.’ But this shadowy part of High Asia is inhabited by one of the fiercest and most predatory of Central Asian tribes, whose opposition to penetration of their sacred high places would surely be intense. However Leonard Clark had not only 'a way with him', but was blest with good fortune. First he linked up with a Torgut Mongol 'prince', Tsedam Dorje, master of many tongues, with western education and thoroughly well versed with the political set up in Western China. Exiled from Pekin, he was working as translator and interpreter at the Catholic Mission in Lucknow. The two made a pact to enter forbidden Tibet. Luck held, for they obtained an introduction to Ma Pu Fang, the Tungan Governor of Chinghai and Generalissimo of the only Nationalist armies still intact in 1949. These were composed mainly of Chinese Moslems. At Sining, China's westernmost city, Colonel Clark seems to have planned with that colourful, keen anti-Communist leader, a scheme whereby his activities should become the eastern wing of a continent-wide Moslem attack on totalitarian communism. The idea so appealed to Ma Pu Fang that he gave unstinted help to further Clark's plans. These were to include, not only exploration of the Amne Machin group, but examination of the true source of the Yellow River and inspection of the Chinese advanced post on the edge of the Tsaidam. From Sining an equally vital and fruitful contact was made, in the course of a personal visit to the Panchen Lama, then residing in the cloister city of Kumbun, a short distance to the south. His Holiness agreed to dictate and to issue a command to all Tibetans, requiring them to assist and to refrain from hindering Clark's work in Tibet. It seems more than likely that the Panchen (or Tashi) Lama envisaged himself seated in the not far distant future on the Dalai Lama's throne in Lhasa. The chief danger to Clark would be from the Ngoloks who did not confine their activities to guarding their sacred mountains, but who raided, and slew far afield. However a nominal'peace treaty' was arranged, and as a further safeguard the Governor insisted that they should join up with a strongly escorted caravan then leaving for Lhasa. The escort commander, Colonel Ma Sheng Lnng, turned out to be another colourful and resourceful individual. Indeed the two, with their boldness, their zest for adventure and their high spirits were like a Central Asian re-incarnation of the Three Musketeers. Alarms and skirmishes, not without loss to the Ngoloks, punctuated the marches south-eastward from Sining. Nevertheless from their Camp 14, on the north-eastern spurs of the Central Amne Machin, they succeeded in taking observations albeit with a somewhat scratch collection of implements. These consisted of a theodolite loaned by the 'Chinghai Highway Bureau', Von Filchner's old German army instruments, Dorje's aneroid and a boiling point thermometer. In his note Colonel Clark gives the height of the main peak as 29,661 feet as compared with his figure for Everest of 29,144; thus making Amne Machin higher by 517 feet. But in his preface he qualifies this saying that owing to the inadequacy of the borrowed instruments there may well be an excess of 2,500 feet upwards or downwards. While the surveying was in progress the clans had begun to gather and actual hostilities were impending. The reduced party were not in a position to bluff so they pulled out by stealth to rejoin Colonel Ma Shen Lnng. Traversing most difficult country in appalling weather conditions they moved, first north and then west, through the sources of the Yellow River and their dividing spurs eventually reaching Fort Shan Je Te on the edge of the great Tsendinu swamps. This was China's most westerly outpost and here they found lavish hospitality and even luxury. But they could not dally for word came through from General Ma Pu Fang that the Communists had overrun Nationalist China, and that he was endeavouring to extricate his Moslem forces. Clark had done his work and with his diminished band made his way back to Sining passing close to the Koko Nor, and reported to General Ma, and also to the very complacent Panchen Lama. The whole odyssey had lasted just six months. It has been vividly narrated, portraying the spirit of rare adventure in happy, some might say exuberant, style. But this is typical, not only of the leader but of the trio of good companions. It would be improved by a glossary, and in their connection a note or two may be allowed. The name Ngolok literally means Face-Back, hence rebel, and a Chorten is not, as stated, a burial place; though it may contain a relic of a saint; shrine or stupa is a better translation. Lastly it should be explained that Chinese Moslems usually bear both Chinese and Mohomedan names. The book is well illustrated and has adequate maps, drawn by Miss Grace James.

H. W. T.

 

 

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KANGCHENJUNGA CHALLENGE. By paui, Bauer. Pp. 202.
12 illustrations, 91/2 " X 63/4". William Kimber, London. 18s.

Paul Bauer's book, dealing with what may, in fact, turn out to be the second highest summit in the world, appeared at a convenient time, just as the since successful British expedition was under way. For parts two and three are, virtually, revised editions of his previous narratives affording the opportunity of comparing the now politically barred eastern approach with the recently opened up south-western. Except for Farmer's hazardous adventure the latter had not been examined since the tragic Guillarmod- Crowley-Pache attempt in 1905. And the Swiss in 1949 went further north on a more exploratory mission.

Study of the Germans' attempts seems to indicate that their route was the longer and more difficult. Bauer's comments on three approaches are interesting, 'After the experiment (1930 International Expedition), the north-western side had to be written off as impracticable'.—'We had left the west ridge out of account because no one could discern whether it was possible to get on to it. The Swiss Expedition of 1949 was also unable to find any way of climbing the west ridge'.—'In short the north-east spur definitely offers a possibility of reaching the summit; perhaps the only possibility'.—'But it imposes greater burdens on individuals than any other known climb in the Himalaya'.—It should be remembered that they did not carry oxygen.—The crucial steep snow slope which could not be circumvented was, in September 1931, of a suicidal nature, though earlier in the year it might have been surmountable. He remarks that 'at a corresponding season the final slopes of Mont Blanc from the Peteret ridge or those of the Dent Blanche are, on account of new snow, no longer practicable.’

At the same season, however, fine ascents were made on lower peaks in the Sikkim Himalaya, as witness in part four,—' Triumph on Siniolchu'. Incidentally Siniolchu, 22,600 feet, and Nilkanta, 21,640 feet, may be said to transcend in beauty all other peaks in the Himalaya. On account of the title parts two to four have been dealt with first in this review. But the first part, ' Bavaria and the Caucasus',—in 1928—is delightful though all too short. And it is a pity that politics have prevented him from recounting some of his experiences when he was training and leading mounting troops in the said Caucasus, between 1939 and 1944.

Lastly, the accepted name of the mountain is Kangchenjunga, kang being the Tibetan word for snow.

 

 

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MAN OF EVEREST (Tenzing). By James Ramsay Ullman.
Pp. 320. 8J"x 6|-". G. G. Harrap, London, Toronto, Sydney, and Wellington. 18s.

This is an interesting and undoubtedly true to life portrait of the great mountaineer. Beginning with a charming description of his earlier homeland,—Solo Khumbu,—and of his own race the narrator, Tenzing, takes his readers to the many regions of High Asia travelled in during the twenty years of his 'second life', as porter and mountain man centred mostly in Darjeeling'. Everest, pre-war, Garhwal, Chitral (in war time), Garhwal again and the western flanks of Kangchenjunga. In an amusing and intimate chapter 'To the Holy Land', he tells of his visit to Lhasa with Professor Tucci—'a strange man whom I grew to like very well'. In accounts of the two post-war Everest expeditions the fullest credit is given to the magnificent achievements of both Swiss and British. The book ends with the beginning of his 'third life', as more or less one of the 'elder brethren' in Darjeeling.

Here and there readers will be inclined to wonder who is actually telling the story—hero, interpreter or writer. For it is not easy to realize how Tenzing has been able, despite having been practically illiterate for many years, been able to marshal so clearly and cleverly his impressions of mountains and men of various nationalities. He has obviously tried to be fair to all and one cannot criticize him for having his preferences.

Mr. Ullman is to be congratulated on having produced, rather under difficulty, a fine book with fine illustrations.

H. W. T.

 

 

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THE MOUNTAIN WORLD. 1954. Published by the Swiss Foundation for Alpine Research. Edited by Marcel Kurz. Pp. 224 with 64 illustrations.

This excellent annual, now published in four languages, is this year mainly devoted to High Asia. Chevalley and Lambert, John Hunt and Wilfrid Noyce have written on Everest, Ruedi Schatz on Dhaulagiri, Pierre Vitoz on the hitherto virgin Nun, Professor Takagi on Manaslu and Charles Houston on K2. Hermann Buhl's own version of his unparalleled feat on Nanga Parbat is included in an article compiled by Karl Herrligkoffer. A Historical Survey of Nanga Parbat is marred only by misinformed and so unjustifiable criticism of the over-rash British trio in November 1850. The Editor contributes a useful survey-'Himalaya, 1952-53'. In it he rightly observes that' the Indians are becoming very enterprising and keeping up a heartening pace: Bandar Punch, Trisul and Kamet-What next?' Only one-fifth of this issue was available for climbs and exploration elsewhere than in Asia. Douglas Busk has described exploration in the Ruwenzori group and P. D. Baird has told of the Baffin Island exploration, both in 1953. Swiss participants in the Danish East Greenland expedition under Dr. Lauge Koch have given the story which includes a visit to the most northerly cape in the world, Kap Morris Jessup.

As usual the volume is copiously furnished with excellent illustrations and clear maps. Marcel Kurz and the Schweizerische Stiftung are to be heartily congratulated.

H. W. T.

 

 

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THE MOUNTAIN WORLD. 1955. Edited by Marcel Kurz and Othmar Gurtner.

Space available does not permit the inclusion of a review adequate to the quality of this latest issue. Once again the bulk of the contents deals with some of the outstanding achievements in High Asia. The Italian success on K2 is told of by the leader and his two summit members. The Cho Oyu epic has been vividly described by Herbert Tichy, and Mathias Rebitsch has given the story of the Austro-German party in the Western Karakoram. George Lowe contributes an account of the Barun Valley expedition, just subsequent to the British Cho Oyu attempt under Shipton. An article by Othmar Gurtner, who is now co-director along with Marcel Kurz, entitled 'Midget Aircraft on Modern Giants', is of unusual interest. And the Preface by Geoffrey Winthrop Young, on'Courage and Mountain Writing', is, as could be expected, brilliant. As always, the photographs are really splendid. The new partnership has, indeed, 'gone one better'.

Editor.

 

 

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LAND OF THE SHERPAS. By Eu,a Maii^art. Hodder and
Stoughton. 18s.

This is a delightful little book in which the famous traveller- writer tells of her happy visits to the villages and shrines in the foothills of the Great Himalayan Chain, to the north of Khatmandu. In some 40 pages she has vividly portrayed the lives and the customs of the Sherpa and Tamang inhabitants. And she has given us a collection of 77 excellent pictures to depict, in part one ' the High Valleys', and in part two 'Places of Pilgrimage'. The scenes of these are conveniently explained in the list preceding them. That the title of the book, 'Land of the Sherpas', may perhaps be considered by some to be an overstatement in no way detracts from its merits.

Editor.

 

 

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HIMALAYAN BARBARY. By Christoph Von Haimendorf.
John Murray, London. Pp. 241, 35 illustrations and 1 map. Qf'xsi'. 215.

The scene of this narrative is a portion of the vast hill region which stretches along south of Assam's northern frontier with China and Tibet. It had been for numberless years a ' terra incognita', closed to explorer and anthropologist alike. Though actually, some thirty years prior to the mission here described a semi-military expedition had attempted to penetrate the upper reaches of the Subansiri but turned back, well short of the snow ranges, when armed opposition was met with. In 1944 the Japanese invasion of Burma had brought home to the Government of India the fact that her eastern borders were vulnerable and that the existing vacuum between Assam and Tibet ought to be filled. Government launched a programme of exploration and the distinguished ethnologist, Christoph Von Furer Haimendorf was assigned to the Balipara Frontier Tract. He had to disrupt his work with Gonds in the Deccan and to undertake the task of establishing relations with the unadministered hill tribes, and of exploring the upper Subansiri. A beginning was to be made with the Apa Tanis, who were believed to be less backward than their close neighbours, the Daflas, who were distinctly intransigent. To the east the 13 Miris, though not troublesome, were also less developed. The politicals intended to provide an armed escort but Von Haimendorf considered that any display of force would be prejudicial to his first contacts with the tribesmen and would jeopardize any chance of establishing mutual trust. After much argument he gained his point and set out not only unescorted but accompanied by his gallant wife, Betty. She had lived for 4 years among aboriginals and both she and her husband were convinced that her presence would help to create confidence.

Owing mainly to the war, equipment of all sorts was almost unobtainable and it came to the point when' what we did not have we must do without'. However they were provided with an Assamese 'admirable Crichton', who was knowledgeable and influential, and also with a highly efficient interpreter. Range after range of wooded mountains separate the A pa Tani valleys from the plain and the more direct route lay through the country of the Hill Daflas, whose character was painted in the blackest colours. A crowning piece of good fortune was the arrival of three Apa Tanis who had come to make contact with the Politicals (for tribal ends). Like all their fellow tribesmen they wore close fitting bamboo tails, painted a vivid red. Six marches brought the mission to the chief village of Haja where, exercising tact and diplomacy, they made friends—embarrassingly close—with the inhabitants. A house was even put up for them within a matter of hours, for which all payment was refused. It became their main headquarters for their two seasons in the region. But this seemed to intensify the bad feeling between Apa Tanis and Daflas. Kidnapping of men, women and cattle had occurred regularly and also instances of head-hunting. There were, of course, reprisals and also ransoms. Despite all this trade relations between the agricultural Apa Tanis and the cattle breeding Daflas continued. The Von Haimendorfs stayed on for some weeks with the tribe, observing their lives, their economy and their habits. They were especially struck by the industry of the people, who 'had created and maintained an oasis of stability within a world of semi-nomadic improvident tribesmen';—'every gift of nature was bent to the service of man'.

They were anxious to explore further north and before the monsoon compelled a return to the plain they began tentative enquiries with a view to a later visit. It was clear that the co-operation of the Daflas and with it the establishment of more peaceful inter-tribal relations would be a sine qua non.

Luckily Dafla envoys came in not long before the mission left and mutual peace overtures began favourably. A touching farewell marked the end of this first stage. Government then decided to establish a provisional base in the Apa Tani country, with military airports as necessary. This was with a view to extending political control, not only of the foothills but up to the border _r The long-term objective was law and order, with the suppression, of inter-tribal feuds. In the Autumn, with only a slight show of force relations between Dallas and Apa Tanis were more or less stabilized and reconnaissance higher up the Subansiri could begin. Visits were made to the villages of the Miris and of the clans who maintained trade relations with Tibet. Opportunity was taken of observing the way of life, the religion and the rites of the tribes. There were of course occasional periods of tenseness, and both Von Haimendorfs had some anxious moments. Trade methods between antipathetic clans were interesting. An inhabitant of the village might go to live in some hostile neighbourhood but would remain there, unembarrassed, and he would frequently become the trade agent between the two. The mission did not actually reach the frontier, but the contacts made and the friendships established augured well for a further mission during the winter of 1945-46. But this was not to be, for the Government of India decided to postpone indefinitely further exploration in the area. It seems a pity because there would have been little difficulty in reaching Agla Maira (near Tibet), and even Eru Nime (Far Tibet) where Ludlow and Kingdon Ward had been six years earlier. The author's concluding- remark of regret will evoke sympathy,-—'even a fraction of the resources spent, year after year, on Himalayan mountaineering ventures would suffice to put these unknown border lands on the ethnographic map and to acquaint us with populations living in complete seclusion from the modern world'.

H. W. T.

 

 

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TIBETAN MARCHES. By Andre Migot. Translated by peter
Fleming. Rupert Hart-Davis, London. Pp. 268, with 40
illustrations and 2 maps.

This narrative is of world-wide interest being of travel, in intimate conditions, in lands rarely visited by westerners in the past and to which access by citizens of the free world will be barred for unpredictable years to come. Dr. Migot, the holder of an appointment in the ' Assistance Medicale Indo-Chinoise' at Hanoi, was entrusted with a mission of research into various aspects of Buddhism in China and Tibet. Accompanied from Kunming by one porter and shunning all modern means of transport he travelled, first northward by the old, disused highway to Chengtu and thence westward to Jyekundo, traversing the' Tibetan Marches' of China. He was in no sort of a hurry because his purpose was to 'get to know the real China'; to soak himself in her civilization, her life, her religion and all her infinite variety. Journeying as he did he came into close contact with all sorts and conditions of men, peasants, merchants, monks, French and other missionaries and officials. Quite early in his venture he realized that it was hopeless to apply for through visas, but that by applying in a provincial capital for a local visa to the next one he could travel the whole length of China. Although often finding himself in the strangest of company he had only two serious set-backs. The first was when stranded in a squalid hamlet an armed band of robbers stripped him of everything in his possession, including shoes, and leaving him only the thin clothes he was wearing. His 'host', the local inn-keeper, was worse off, with nothing but his underclothes. Nevertheless the destitute pair ' took one look at each other and roared with laughter'. Later the Provincial Governor of Sikang (the small buffer province north of Yunnan), whom he met at a banquet shortly afterwards, in Kangting, insisted on making a measure of 'trivial restitution' in money. With the exception of this banditry he received everywhere hospitality and courtesy, and actually dwelt for many days in a mountain-side hermitage with a lama. He had studied Buddhism and had lived with monks in other places and before parting with his teacher he was granted formal entry into the Buddhist church. Shortly after his initiation he crossed the then narrow Yangtse and, once in Jyekundo, succeeded in allaying the suspicions of the Chinese garrison commander by ostensibly making arrangements to accompany a caravan to the Koko Nor, the great 'Blue Sea', some three weeks' march to the north. Thoroughly well disguised as a mendicant lama he slipped away westward along with his staunch companion, Gelu, a young lama from the 'Shangri La' of his own initiation. Thus they started out on the road to their true objective, Lhasa. But seven marches out the ' long arm of the law' reached out to them and they were firmly, though politely sent back, fortunately unescorted. A plausible story of sojourn in lama series was accepted and a few days later Dr. Migot set out in reality for the Koko Nor. From there by way of Sining and Lanchow he reached the railway to Pekin. Here, while visiting the Ming Tombs, he was arrested by Communist troops with whom he spent an instructive month before being passed back to Pekin. Not long after this Dr. Migot journeyed back across China to Eastern Tibet. But 'that is another story'. As did Heinrich Harrer and Peter Aufschnaiter, Dr. Migot became very fond of the Tibetans. And he is also tolerant of the Chinese Communists, as he found them. He saw' behind the Communist lines, the young people making a real effort to establish decency and justice'.—⁴They really wanted desperately to improve conditions, to combat poverty and to restore his dignity to the individual'. The book is well illustrated and has been brilliantly translated by Peter Fleming.

H. W. T.

 

 

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SOUTH COL. By Wilfrid Noyce. Heinemann. Pp. 303, 40
plates with line drawings and maps. 215.

To quote the author: 'There are many books about Mount Everest; some might say too many'. This one unlike most narratives of Himalayan travel gives the' inside story' of the daily lives of men at high altitudes, of their doings, of their talk and of their reactions to what they see and do.

Wilfrid Noyce has recorded his own thoughts as they came to him from day to day. He takes you from the invitation while he was actually teaching at Charterhouse to the first gathering of the team at the Royal Geographical Society, with John Hunt leading the initial discussion on organization, food, equipment and other countless requirements,' all as business like as any board meeting'.

Under 'Dramatis Personae' each member of the expedition is introduced, in few words but true to life. Noyce's summing up of his chief's personality deserves reproduction here. 'John fulfilled Gino Watkins' proposition that a leader should be able and prepared to do all that his team must do. He must never be on his dignity with them, nor be above mild ribaldry at his own expense. It is not too much to say that in an expedition of this nature admiration, and even love of the leader is the largest single factor making for happiness, and this team was a more than happy one.'

The journey to Kathmandu, the marches through Nepal and the acclimatization period are enlivened with personal reminiscences, and under the heading 'Icefall Escapades' the struggle to establish Camp III is recounted in similarly light vein. The epic of the Lhotse face, for which the chief honours go to George Lowe, the author and six stout-hearted Sherpas is well told, albeit with some degree of understatement.

The first attainment of the South Col and the arduous, but less dramatic build-up conducted in the main by Noyce and Charles Wylie is given but scant space. In a series of vignettes the author goes on to tell of the tremendous achievement of Evans and Bourdillon in the 'first assault', when they climbed to the South Summit and, at 28,900 feet, 'stood higher than man had ever stood before'. He tells of the splendid carry by John Hunt and Da Namgyal and lastly of meeting the summit party on their descent; George Lowe hastening up to them and, he quotes Hillary's characteristic first remark to Lowe:—' Well we knocked the bastard off'.

Then comes Ed. Hillary's story as given in his' first fragmentary account, full of mountaineering understatement': . . . . ' a superb climb by two companions worthy of it and climbing as a rope of two should'. At the end of the book are nine poems written at various stages of the expedition.

The book is superbly illustrated with photographs and with line drawings by A. J. Veilhan in collaboration with the author. The' end papers' consist of speaking likenesses, also by Veilhan, of seventeen members of the party, including Tom Stobart of cine camera renown and James Morris, the Times' correspondent.

Wilfrid Noyce has produced a first class, it may be said necessary supplement to Sir John Hunt's excellent official history of the expedition. He has succeeded in what he set out to do by presenting vividly to the reader the scenes which he himself saw and in which he took part.

H. W. T.

 

 

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EMPIRE SURVEY REVIEW NO. 98, VOL. XIII, OCTOBER, 1955.

The correspondence columns of the daily press bear witness to the interest evoked by the precise height of Mount Everest. Someone inquires why a climber is only credited with a mere 29,002 ft., when everyone knows the mountain is higher; another assures the editor that he has seen the peak without the aid of any refraction, and why cannot surveyors do the same? Nobody asks what is meant by height; if they did, they would be very surprised to learn of these essentials for an accurate determination: a clear understanding of the distinction between geoidal and spheroidal heights; astronomical data, by which to assess their differences; and vertical angle observations from stations accurately fixed and heighted, and close enough to the peak to limit the unavoidable doubts in assumed refraction.

Mr. Gulatee in Technical Paper No. 4 had already indicated the work that was necessary; and this Technical Paper No. 8 records its completion. He traces the history of the 1849-50 determination of 29,002 ft. from observations at stations in the plains over no miles away, and of its recomputation by Colonel S. G. Burrard as 29,141 ft., using new observations from stations somewhat nearer in the Darjeeling hills; a value which the Survey of India have always treated with suspicion,, despite its origin, and have never officially accepted. Their reluctance is now vindicated. The problem of refraction values, and the more vital point of geoid-spheroid separation are then discussed in detail; an account of the triangulation work follows, comprising a northward extension in 1952-53 of minor triangulation run in Nepal for post-war control of irrigation projects. A comprehensive astrolabe programme for deviation is recorded, in the course of which a station 30 miles from Mount Everest was found to have a meridional deflection of 71": a value that will require some amendment of textbooks. Clear diagrams then exhibit the resulting differences of geoidal and spheroidal height.

A final computed value of 29,028 ft. is being adopted, the odds being considered 20 to 1 against this being in error by 10 ft.; it is very fairly pointed out that the comparatively small difference from the old value is not due to the excellence of that determination, but to the fortuitous cancellation of some of the sources of error with which it was burdened.

The paper should be of great interest to all surveyors, not only to those directly concerned with geodesy. Mr. Gulatee is to be congratulated on this clear exposition of the problem, and the Survey of India on its satisfactory and well-timed solution. The recent success on Kangchenjunga will bring up once more the question of its height relative to K2; Mr. Gulatee has this matter in mind too, and records that their difference in height is less than its possible error. A preliminary computation suggests that Kangchenjunga is undervalued by about 60 ft., and we await with interest his final conclusion.

C. A. Biddi,E.

 

 

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K2: THE SAVAGE MOUNTAIN. By Chari.es Houston and Robert Bates. Collins. 25s.

K2 is the world's second highest mountain. Yet it is a curious fact that until it was climbed last year by a powerful Italian Expedition its name, its location—let alone its history—almost escaped public notice. How many times have I been asked by people, thinking in terms of its closest rivals in height,' after Everest, what next ?' Except for Everest the details of high mountains are familiar only to geographers and the few who are closely interested in mountaineering.

During and after the Everest Expedition in 1953, public attention was focused on our struggle to reach the highest point on the earths surface, and the fact that nearly 1,000 miles away in the far Karakoram a serious attempt was also being made to climb a mountain less than 1,000 ft. lower than Everest was generally overlooked. There is, moreover, the fact that despite a most gallant effort the Americans failed to reach the top of K2 in 1953, which in itself did not provide headlines to satisfy those who measure great enterprises by the yardstick of material success. And this is a pity, for the story of Houston's expedition, as a few of us knew at that time and as is now made clear to everyone in this book, is that of a great enterprise.

As in the case of Everest, the story of K2 cannot be truly assessed merely by the final, triumphant episode, achieved and recorded by the fine Italian mountaineers in 1954. This must be related to all that had gone before: a British party made the first attempt more than fifty years ago: Italian guides under the Duke of the Abbruzzi tried again in 1909, and these were followed, after a long interval, by the three American expeditions of 1938, 1939 and 1953. That the mountain was climbed at last was due to the union, not the conflict, of human endeavour; each attempt, taken separately, was an upward step towards the ultimate goal. Charles Houston and his men took the penultimate step and, in so doing, gained further hard experience which increased the chances of their successors. Their part in this epic was a triumph, even though they did not reach the summit.

Whether it is considered as a chapter of a greater history, or, out of the context of the past, simply as an adventure story, this book makes enthralling reading. Yet there is no doubt that some background knowledge of the history of Himalayan climbing, and of K2 in particular, enhances the interest of the tale, for history has an awkward habit of repeating itself: on K2 in 1953 two tragic episodes from the past were dramatically reproduced, though differently re- enacted. Nineteen years before, in 1934, a German Expedition assembled its full climbing strength on the Silver Saddle of Nanga Parbat, at over 24,000 feet and within striking distance of the summit of that ill-famed peak. There they were struck and besieged by a sudden and violent storm until, forced to retreat, four of them lost their lives during a fearful struggle for existence on the perilous way down.

The second episode occurred on K2 itself in 1939, when the second American Expedition was making its attempt on the summit. At Camp VII, at 24,500 feet, one of the assault party fell desperately ill and his two companions descended to seek help from the lower camps. But no help was found, for these camps had been evacuated in tragic error by the rest of the party. This circumstance cost the life of the sick man and of two Sherpas who gallantly climbed up from the Base Camp in an attempt to bring him down.

With these dramas in mind, it is natural to ask whether climbing can still be regarded as a sport when related to the conquest of the few highest peaks of all; it is possible to criticize the heroes of K2, in 1953, both in regard to their planning and their management. Rightly or wrongly, Houston and his men were determined that their venture, even on such a peak as K2, should be conducted on the plane of sport and not as a campaign waged by pygmies against a giant supported by elemental forces. Despite the lesson of Nanga Parbat, they concentrated all eight members of their team at Camp VIII, 25,500 feet, with no support in any of the seven camps below them, spaced empty at intervals down the 9,000 feet of steep south ridge. But the Furies are neither appreciative of the sporting spirit nor lenient to human error, and these eight men found themselves, like the Germans, trapped at that great height for ten appalling days of storm, and gradually succumbing to the effects of cold, lack of oxygen and nourishment. Moreover, as in 1939, one of their number fell dangerously ill and it became clear that he would be quite unable to climb down.

Yet the outcome was different from those events of 1934 and 1939, and in the sad yet glorious denouement lies the true merit of the story. When the time came to make a supreme effort for survival these men, dangerously weak themselves and with a helpless companion on their hands, were quite clear that they would stay together, knowing full well that such unison would probably spell their doom. Faced with the apparently impossible task of descending through the continuing storm down those 9,000 feet of difficult and dangerous mountainside, they yet took with them the dying man, wrapped in his sleeping-bag and a tent, lowering him gently, foot by foot, down the steep snow slopes.

At one point, a slip by one climber sent all but two of the party— the sick man and one other—sliding helplessly at gathering speed downwards; they were miraculously arrested at the brink of disaster. Then their sick comrade was swiftly and mercifully removed from their in circumstances which seem to have been little short of providential; for this alone made possible their escape.

Such tenacious courage, such unity in adversity, earned them a return to life, and they came back to tell a most moving tale. As befits its greatness, it is told in easy, unsensational style by three members of the party, while others have shared in compiling the brief appendices. There is a gratifying absence of technicalities, tedious to those not directly concerned with the climbing and scientific problems involved in such an enterprise. Such facts and figures as are given reveal the modest scale and simple concept of the expedition. It was privately financed and the resources budgeted for by Houston were not large—indeed the reserves of men and material may not have been adequate.

However this may be, we can afford to admire the more these men from America, with all the resources which might have been placed at their disposal, for insisting on this note of modesty and simplicity, for holding high the banner of sport and for ignoring the issue of national prestige attached to so glittering a prize as the firstascent of K2.

Sir John Hunt.

 

 

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NANGA PARBAT. By Dr. Karl Herrliokoffer. Elek Books Ltd., London. Pp. 254, 8 colour plates, 55 monochrome plates, 5 sketch maps and diagrams. 9" x5 ½ 25s.

This is a mountaineering epic of unusual interest, of attempts, several ill-fated, to scale what was until 1954 the highest peak ever ascended by man.

In Book One, 'Tragedies,' the period covered is from 1895, the year of Mummery's rash venture, down to the 'Winter Escapade' of 1950. It has been ably and impartially dealt with by Mrs. Eleanor Brockett and Anton Ehrenzweig—translators of the German version—and concludes with a ' Summing Up' by Erwin Schneider, Nanga Parbat veteran of 1932.

Book Two,' Triumph,' is Dr. Herrligkoffer's official record of the Willi Merkl Memorial Expedition of 1953. He writes dramatically of the alternating progress and frustrations and of the ultimate attainment of the objective striven for for so long and at such great cost of life. Aschenbrenner of Kufstein takes up the story and describes the build-up to Camp IV, close under the Rakhiot Peak at 22,000 feet. Another Austrian, Frauenberger, after shepherding the Hunza porters up the Rakhiot ice-wall, tried to establish Camp V at 23,000 feet, but was forced down to a site at 22,600. The oxygen had to be left at Camp IV.

On June 30 word came through from base camp to those on the mountain that the monsoon had arrived and that the high camps were to be evacuated forthwith. However, the weather had cleared above and it was decided to face the great risks involved and launch the assault. The fullest credit is given to Hermann Buhl of Innsbruck who, unaccompanied, climbed over 4,000 feet in seventeen hours and with almost superhuman determination and powers of endurance reached the summit a few minutes before the sun went down. Without oxygen, without food or drink, inadequately clad, without sleeping-bag or shelter, he spent seven hours of darkness at over 26,000 feet. At early dawn, both feet frostbitten, he resumed the arduous descent, limping down to the Diamir depression, up again to the Silver Saddle and, finally, twenty-eight hours after starting up, staggered into the arms of his comrades close to the Moors Head. But for the unexpectedly long spell of fair weather, which mercifully lasted until base camp was reached, the Naked Goddess must have again taken toll in lives of men.

It will be noticed that no Sherpas took part in the ascent, although the Himalayan Club had, with some difficulty, enrolled, routed and despatched a team to railhead at Abbotabad. The arrangements made for the outward journey through Azad Kashmir to Gilgit broke down and after a long wait the stranded men were recalled to Darjeeling. The Hunzas, expert cragsmen, but with inadequate experience as yet on snow and ice, seem to have done well, and Herrligkoffer, while deploring the non-arrival of the Sherpas, expressed the opinion that,' the conquest of Nanga Parbat with Hunza porters was just within the limits of possibility,' which proved to be the case. He has also gratefully acknowledged the unfailing cooperation and support given throughout Pakistan by officials and others alike.

An appendix by Eleanor Brockett and Anton Ehrenzweig, 'The Hunza Porters/ in which the Hunzas and their neighbours across the valley are well and fairly described, is a valuable addition to this very interesting and well-produced book. It is well provided with illustrations, colour and monochrome, and has adequate sketch- maps and diagrams.

H. W. T.

 

 

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TIBETAN JOURNEY. By G. N. Patterson. Faber and Faber.
Pp. 231. Illustrated. 15s.

This is a very interesting book of Tibetan travel by a man who spoke Tibetan and thus avoided the tiresome use of an interpreter. The author, a medical missionary working on the Tibet-China border, had to hurry to India to bring supplies of drugs and other necessities in view of the approach of the Chinese Communists which endangered the supply of such things from China. The journey was undertaken from January to March 1950 in a Tibetan winter, and the hardships of such conditions are described with much genuine feeling. Probably there could have been mitigation to some extent by travelling at night over frozen snow on the worst parts, and also by taking precautions against snow-blindness.

After a gruesome, and quite unnecessary, account of an operation on a Tibetan woman, we are taken off on the journey to India. Unfortunately we are given no clue as to the starting-point except a note on the map. There is also no indication of where we are going until on the third day out (on p. 52) we learn that the author spends the night at a village (tantalizingly nameless) on a rocky promontory above the Yangtse river. The next day the Yangtse is crossed in coracles. The location of this ferry is not given. Up to Gartok, which he reached in seven days, he was on little-known ground, though the country is mapped. Here he spent several days and made a very useful friendship with the Tibetan officer Dege Sey (Derge Se, by the recognized transliteration from Tibetan), who spoke good English which he had learnt at Ludlows' school at Gyantse. He also obtained a permit to travel and the right to ulag—that is, transport, supplies and accommodation. From Gartok the author was on the track of A. K., one of the most efficient of the secret explorers who were sent out by the Survey of India last century. This took him to Mijiriga (Michi Rika), at which place he picked up the tracks of other travellers. His journey through the Mishmi country was facilitated by the Indian detachments on that frontier. Here he met Captain and Mrs. Kingdon-Ward, who were on one of their many botanical explorations. No one will like reading of the high-handed methods of his escort in beating villagers and head-men to make them produce transport. It is better to control these matters, particularly if you intend to return by the same road.

There is perhaps too much detail of the conversation of his retainers. This in moderation is interesting as showing aspects of Tibetan life. More information of the country traversed and especially some place names would have added to the interest, and to the value of the book for future travellers. The author had the good sense to take a respectable suit of clothes for meetings with high officials. Many travellers cut their baggage down to such an extent that this is not possible and unintentionally give offence in this respect.

This remarkable journey was started in an emergency at short notice, and under these circumstances it was due to his knowledge of the language and his determination that he got through to India.

F. M. B.

 

 

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AN INNOCENT ON EVEREST. By Ralph Izzard. Hodder and Stoughton, London. 1954. Pp. 256. Ill. Bibl. 165.

Any good reporter would have jumped for joy at being assigned to cover the 1953 Everest Expedition. But Ralph Izzard can have had but few illusions as to the difficulties of his task. It was perhaps the most thankless and unsatisfactory mission ever imposed on a newspaper man. Nevertheless, starting from scratch, at very short notice he managed to reach Khatmandu, travelling by pure coincidence in the same plane from Delhi as the leader. The terms of The Times copyright naturally prohibited the imparting of inside information, but John Hunt remained, as always, scrupulously courteous but firm. And, as was only to be expected, little journalistic help was forthcoming from British officialdom at the capital. From Tenzing he got help, advice and useful copy (not of course relevant to the current expedition). The British Ambassador had been adamant about The Times copyright—an attitude of which Mr. Izzard could not see the ethics. He seems to ignore the fact that when contributing the major part of the funds required to launch the expedition The Times acquired the sole press rights from expedition sources for a stated period. Officials of the Nepal Durbar, being unhampered, could be, and were, very helpful. From rival reporters and other channels he obtained a good deal of relevant copy, not always strictly accurate. But in Khatmandu camp equipment was unobtainable, while in Calcutta he found even the Himalayan Club cupboard bare. It took an ill-spared week to scrounge the kit, and when inspecting it he 'felt more like a clown than a climber.' However, he set off with his harum-scarum gang only a week behind the expedition and got to Namchi Bazar in only a fortnight, by good fortune stumbling on to the expedition's headquarters just below the ice-fall. He had done extremely well thus getting to the head of the Khumbu Glacier at all, and more so just as the expedition was about to pass out of sight beyond the reach of gate-crashers. Two of these were trying to do better than the Daily Mail man. And two other correspondents, of reputable papers, got no farther than New Delhi. Although Ralph Izzard never got a chance of obtaining any sensational copy, he has written his story of frustration with praiseworthy restraint and has produced a very readable chronicle. He waited for three weeks more in Khatmandu and witnessed the outburst of wild and rivalling nationalism which marred, for a period, the tremendous success of the expedition. His analysis of the causes shows understanding and a degree of sympathy and he has dealt tactfully and factually with the two Tenzing controversies. The book is well illustrated.

H. W. T.

 

 

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A MOUNTAIN CALLED NUN KUN. By Bernard Pierre. Hodder and Stoughton, London. Pp. 89, 20 pictures, 5 maps and sketches. 81/2 " x 51/2 16s.

It was a happy coincidence that in 1953 both John Hunt and his friend Bernard Pierre should be leading successful expeditions at opposite ends of the Himalaya. But it seems strange that Nun, the second highest peak in Kashmir, only 60 miles from Srinagar, should have remained inviolate for so many years. And it is interesting that only one of the team had had previous Himalayan experience. And also that of the two who reached the summit one, Mme Claude Kogan, became thereby the woman's altitude record holder. The other was the Swiss Protestant Pastor from Leh, who left his flock with the message, 'The Pastor has gone to the presence of the Most High.' Bernard Pierre's vivid narration of the course of events, his intimate portrayal of those taking part and his picturing of the wonderful setting are all brilliant. The avalanche, which brought two of his party to the brink of death, the wiping out of Camp III, his esteem of their Sherpas and his own unhappy renunciation from the final assault are all told of with typically Gallic freedom from inhibition. To quote Sir John Hunt,' an intensely human story'. The translation, by Nea Morin and Janet Adam-Smith, leaves nothing to be desired.

H. W. T.

 

 

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ABODE OF SNOW. By Kenneth Mason. Rupert Hart-Davis. 25s.

A special note concerning this very fine work by the recent head of the School of Geography at Oxford appears earlier in this issue. And so many well deserved encomiums have been bestowed by better qualified judges that to vie with them in these columns would be redundant. But the following from a review by Sir John Hunt has been quoted as an example of what has been said ... '. . . there is no doubt that Abode of Snow, with its full index, accurate descriptions and plentiful sketch maps, will be a valuable book of reference to the geographer, the historian and to the mountaineer- explorer. To those whose interest in these mountains is more general it will serve as a useful background to the great adventure stories which are fresh in men's minds and to the deeds which will be enacted there in future.'

Editor.

 

 

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ROAD TO RAKAPOSHI. By George Band. Hodder and Stoughton, London. Pp. 192, 50 illustrations, 4 maps and diagrams. 81/2 "x61/2 ". 16s.

This account of the doings of six members of the Cambridge University Mountaineering Club makes excellent reading. The road to their objective in the Western Karakoram took them right across Europe and half across Asia. Their plans were perforce based on the period of the Long Vacation, so the first half of the party drove out in May-June in their Bedford 'Dormobile', leaving the others to follow by air, after sitting for their June examinations. Food and equipment went conveniently by sea. Ted Wrangham has contributed a pleasant description of the outroad journey, telling of many happy encounters and of the almost universal help afforded by British and other officials.

Rakaposhi—(the 'Dragon's Tail')—some 25,560 feet in height, had previously been tackled unsuccessfully by two smaller parties. The Cambridge team was stronger and better equipped, though far from the lavish scale of the big Italian expedition to K2, a few weeks earlier.

George Band takes up the story from the arrival in Rawalpindi, a few days ahead of schedule. Just before leaving England they had been staggered by the news that an Austro-German party had been given permission to attempt, not only Rakaposhi but also Dastaghil 25,870 feet, in the Hispar Mustagh. Fortunately these potential rivals decided, after reconnoitring, to try further north, in the Batura, where there were other virgin 'eight thousanders'. Another piece of great luck came them in the person of General Hayaud Din (' Gunga' to his host of friends). He was then Chief of the Pakistan General Staff and decided to accompany the Cambridge party as liaison officer.

Their attempts followed much the same lines as those taken by their predecessors—first the north-west ridge and then the southwest spur. Their setbacks were very similar, though they did, in fact, open the way to the summit by a' first ascent' of the Monk's Head. But they were in no fit state to exploit this success and contenting themselves with this achievement made their way down to base camp—the first stage of the long journey home. George Band ingenuously admits that even seven thousand miles were not enough to teach him to drive, and that after two failures to do so he has not yet passed his test, ' the hazards of a busy shopping street are greater than those in the Himalaya.'—An example of the happy style which runs through this book. The maps and diagrams are excellent, but the photographs are hardly up to standard.

H. W. T.

 

 

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HIGH ADVENTURE. By Edmund Hilary. Pp. 224, with maps
by A. Spark and sketches by George Djurkuoic. Hodder and
Stoughton, London. 1955. 16s.

This is not 'just another book about Everest'. The author explains in his preface that it is simply a personal record of his own part in various expeditions, of which the successful effort of 1953 is a fitting climax.

I think most people will enjoy the development from venturesome and sometimes reckless youth to the calculated and responsible acceptance of risks in the Himalaya; all in a period of seven years.

Three things have left an indelible impression on my mind: first, the conclusion arrived at in the terrible ice-fall of the Khumbu glacier, that' the only way to attempt Everest was to modify the old standards of justifiable risk and to meet the dangers as they came; to drive through regardless . . . the competitive standards of Alpine mountaineering were coming to the Himalayas, and we might as well compete or pull out'.

Second, still in the ice-fall: 'an enormous tilting serac, but we estimated that, even if it did fall, it shouldn't give the inhabitants of the camp anything more than a bad fright . This is the optimistic fatalism of very brave men.

Third, the almost incredible powers of mental concentration shown by the author on the final ridge of Everest above the South Col. Without this, he and Tenzing might have reached the summit, but they would not have got down alive.

Hillary writes well, and is generous in his tributes to all his companions; and he does not forget his debt to his great friend, Shipton.

The photographs, maps and sketches are excellent.

Hugh Ruttledge.

As we go to press another classic, superbly got up, has come to hand. It is entitled ‘Less Alpinistes Celebres', published by Lucien Mazenod of Paris who specializes in 'Editions d'Art'. This very brief note is all we can give at this eleventh hour, but a full review will be printed in Volume XX of the Journal. The work has been compiled by Henry de Segogne, lately President of the Club Alpin Francais, and Jean Couzy. Some three score mountaineers have contributed, including 14 British. A number of older prints have been skilfully reproduced, as well as many old portraits, modern groups and some of the finest mountain photographs extant.

H. W. T.

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