KANGCHENJUNGA RECONNAISSANCE; 1954

T. H. BRAHAM

THE party that was organized this year to explore the south-west approaches of Kangchenjunga from the Yalung glacier, was largely the result of fortuitous circumstances. John Kempe and G. C. Lewis had visited the Yalung glacier in the summer of 1953, and had enjoyed six weeks of excellent climbing and travel. They had succeeded in ascending the north-west peak of Kabru (c. 24,000 feet) and their situation provided them with a grandstand view of the mighty south-west face of Kangchenjunga. They were most enthusiastic when I met them on their return and expressed high hopes about the possibility of finding a climbable route from this side. They seemed eager to return to the scene of action, and little did I realize at the time that within a year I would be joining them on another expedition.

Towards the end of 1953 Lewis had started making definite preparations in England: and Kempe, who was in India at the time, was making strenuous efforts to get together a climbing party. Plans were already far advanced when Kempe invited me to join the party in January 1954. My interest in t lie project, at first undefined owing to the vast size of the problem, began to grow as each fresh letter from Kempe threw more enlightenment on the nature of the undertaking.

Previous expeditions to this side of the mountain had been few, and we had very little to guide us. This, I think, was the main reason why the adventure grew in interest both in the planning stage and, later, in the field. After Freshfi eld's journey round Kangchenjunga in 1899, the problem of finding a practicable route up the mountain began to be studied with some interest. Freshfield, whilst appreciating the enormous difficulties involved, had suggested three possible routes. One of these was an ascent of the south-west face at the head of the Yalung glacier by means of a shelf which slopes upwards from east to west, and is conspicuous from Darjeeling. He described it as' a very direct route, . . . but a prodigious climb In August 1905 Dr. Guillarmod's party set out for the Yalung glacier, proposing to make an attempt via this route. They tackled the slopes leading to the western extremity of the ice-shelf. After a camp had been established at about 20,500 feet an avalanche overtook the party and Pache and three porters were killed. The Yalung glacier was not visited again until 1920, when Harold Raeburn and C. G. Crawford explored the upper Yalung glacier in September and prospected up the south-west face of Kangchenjunga in an attempt to reach the ice-shelf. Placing a camp at about 20,000 feet, they climbed 1,000 feet higher before turning back. The only other recorded attempt from this side was made in May ig29 by a young American, E. F. Farmer. Placing a camp at the head of the Yalung glacier, he started up the ice-fall below the Talung saddle, and was attempting, apparently, to reach the saddle. Despite the warnings of the three porters who were his only companions, he continued alone and was never seen again. Of the other attempts on Kangchenjunga, it is worth mentioning that the International Expedition in 1930 under Professor Dyhrenfurth had probably established beyond doubt that the north-west side via the Kangchenjunga glacier could be ruled out as impracticable. The Zemu glacier approach, however, as a result of the two brilliant attempts made by the Bavarians under Paul Bauer in 1929 and 1931 via the north-east spur, remains a possibility open to further effort. There are some, amongst them the late Frank Smythe, who consider this to be the only possible route of ascent. Others, however, believe that the extreme dangers of the north-east spur combined with its great length are overruling factors against it. John Hunt and G. C. R. Cooke, when visiting the Zemu glacier in November 1937, investigated the possibility of reaching the north col of Kangchenjunga (c. 22,500 feet) which lies midway between the Twins and the junction of the north-east spur. This col, if attainable, thus leads direct to the north ridge of Kangchenjunga. It is formed by a steep wall of rock and ice rising about 2,000 feet above the head of the Twins glacier. Cooke and his porters, after some difficult climbing, almost succeeded in reaching the col.

The objectives of our expedition this year were limited. We hoped to explore the upper Yalung glacier as fully as possible, and to discover a practicable route to the great ice-shelf that runs across the south-west face of Kangchenjunga. The shelf is situated at an altitude between 23,000-24,000 feet and extends for over a mile, rising gently from east to west. The attainment of this shelf on a mountain of Kangchenjunga's size is but the beginning of the problem of ascent from this side. Beyond it rises a towering rock face of about 4,000 feet steep, and bristling with numerous unknown hazards. We felt, nevertheless, that the shelf provided the key to the upper part of the mountain. To reach it, therefore, was our ultimate aim. What lay beyond could be studied closely; and perhaps, with a bit of luck, we might even set foot on the upper face itself. The problem of finding a route to the shelf, we realized, would be our main pre-occupation. From the photographs that Kempe and Lewis had taken in 1953 it was apparent that a steep and lengthy ice-fall provided a means of approach to the western or upper end of the shelf; but whether it provided direct access, and how dangerous it would turn out to be, were problems we would have to assess later. Besides, if the ice-fall were to prove impracticable, in any case, we would investigate other possible routes to the shelf.

The party comprised John Kempe (leader), who had climbed in Garhwal and Kulu; J. W. Tucker, who was a reserve for the 1953 Everest Expedition; S. R. Jackson, the most experienced rock climber in the party; G. C. Lewis, who had climbed before in Sikkim; and myself. Dr. D. S. Matthews was invited to join the party as Medical Officer. His presence proved most valuable, and in addition to the role of mess officer which he took on above base camp, he brought back several thousand feet of colour-film. With three members of the party in England and three in India, organization was simplified to some extent, and the expedition was delivered safely to its starting- point in Darjeeling well within its prescribed schedule. We owe our thanks to the many firms in England and in India who made us generous gifts of equipment and food. We owe also a debt of gratitude to the Mount Everest Committee in London, who not only gave us their blessing, but also provided us with a valuable grant.

The main body of the expedition, except John Kempe, was assembled in Darjeeling on 8th April. Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, who were away on leave, had most generously placed their lovely bungalow at our disposal. It was a relief to know that they could not witness the appalling chaos of those few days before our departure; although we did confine our messiest bits of packing to one corner of their house. Ajeeba was appointed sirdar and seven other Sherpas were engaged. Ajeeba had been sent out on a preliminary reconnaissance in January in order to determine the most suitable route for the outward march; and also to make arrangements for supplies of tsampa for the expedition with the headman of Ghunza in Nepal. Despite his reports, we were unable to decide which of two routes we should follow. The alternative lay between a high-level route in Sikkim along the Singalila ridge, devoid of habitation and supplies, or a low-level route through Nepal, along the villages of the Tamur valley to Ghunza and Tseram. The latter route appeared to be slightly longer; and for this reason, wrongly as it turned out, we chose the Singalila ridge. Food for our porters for the whole twelve- day journey to Tseram, therefore, had to be carried from Darjeeling. On the day before our departure the front lawn was filled with seventy-odd ragamuffins. Packing and weighing had been completed, and sixty-five porters were required for our 4,500 lb. of baggage. Donald Matthews set to work, and much merriment was caused whilst male and female, young and old, were submitted to his stethoscope and said 'Ah' to his order. The group finally chosen comprised mainly Sherpas with a mixture of Nepalis, and included fifteen women, all Sherpanis.

We left Darjeeling shortly after midday on ioth April; our destination was Tanglu bungalow, situated at 10,000 feet on the Singalila ridge. Lewis stayed behind with four coolies and a Sherpa to await kempe, who planned to leave Darjeeling on 16th April. We motored to the village of Mane Bhanjan where we arrived at 3 p.m. There we began the long, steep ascent to Tanglu, arriving exhausted at past seven o'clock long after dark. Ill weather trailed our march along the Singalila ridge. A high wind, hail, and sleet accompanied us for the latter part of our march to Sandakpu, 12,000 feet, and most of the porters straggled into the bungalow late in the night, drenched, shaking with cold, and too miserable even to cook and eat. A section of the Nepalis had to be cajoled into starting the next morning, and we regarded their reluctance, at this early stage, as an ill omen. There were magnificent views of Kangchenjunga, Makalu, Everest, and Lhotse; lofty, distant, and seemingly unapproachable. Ajeeba's control over the caravan appeared to be rather weak; and when, after Phalut, we made our first camp at Chiya Bhanjan, an unpleasant harangue arose over the coolies' food-ration scale. This was eventually settled, but not too happily we thought. The arrival of the scene of a native Ghunza warned us of bad conditions farther ahead; he was a happy fellow and we engaged him as a willing porter and guide. The following evening, when we were camped at Nayathang, an exposed alp on the ridge at 11,000 feet, a violent thunderstorm broke. Furious winds and rain lashed the camp, and thunder boomed fiercely. The storm raged throughout the night and two of us were struck by lightning, one receiving a burn in his forearm. The roof of a large mess tent, which had sheltered about twenty coolies, was ripped by the wind. The next day, our fifth from Darjeeling, we reached Meguthang after a long march of endless climbs and descents rendered rather trying by the fresh snow which covered the path. Here, a crisis developed over transport. The whole of the Nepalese group refused to start, claiming that what they had already endured would be nothing compared to what lay in store; nothing would persuade them to change their minds. There were twenty-one men in all who deserted; and with them went three Sherpanis and one Sherpa. Following our initial sense of loss, we were almost relieved to see them go; for they were troublesome, craven hearted fellows. Our porter strength was now reduced to forty, and we set to work at once reorganizing loads and fitting out everyone with footwear and goggles. A ferry of twenty-five loads went up the valley towards the Garakhet La, c. 14,000 feet, the same day and returned to camp in the evening. Our reduced porter strength entailed more work for everyone, but we reached Tseram, I think, only three days behind schedule. The high-level route was decidedly unpleasant at this season with the snow-line well below 14,000 feet. We crossed four passes between 14,000 feet and 16,000 feet. The Chumbab La, c. 16,000 feet, was the highest; but the Semo La, c. 15,300 feet, gave us the most trouble. On its northerly slopes, which we descended to the Kangla Nangma valley in Nepal, several feet of fresh powder snow unsettled the porters; about half a dozen stalwarts worked bravely organizing rescue operations before every man, woman, and load was delivered safely on the other side of the pass.

We reached Tseram on 21st April. We had discovered at Gope- thang on the 18th that we were running short of coolie food, so Ajeeba was dispatched to Ghunza with all haste to implement the arrangements he had made for supplies in January, and to meet us in Tseram. The 22nd April was spent in Tseram reorganizing food and gear, and picking eighteen volunteers to make the initial ferries up the glacier. remainder of the coolies were dismissed; I think we were all sorry to lose 'Dum Dum', a tubby lad from Tonglu who always smiled, never complained, and was shockingly imposed upon in the allotment of loads : he was too simple even to recognize this. Like Mr. Wardle's ' fat boy ', he seldom spoke. I hope that ' Dum Dum ' arrived home with his wages intact; his companions seemed to show too great an eagerness about its safe keeping. We shared our encampment with the family of an old yakherd from Ghunza. His two sons, sturdy men of Tibetan stock, accompanied us with loads up the glacier the next day. In return for Matthew's attention to his chronic conjunctivitis the old man presented us with a large dish of potatoes.

Above Tseram the huge terminal moraine of the Yalung glacier blocks the head of the valley; the Kabru ridge, glistening in the background, rose beyond the boulder-strewn wastes framed between rocky walls: the scale is immense, befitting a great Himalayan glacier. Jackson and I, accompanied by three Sherpas, left Tseram on 23rd April, escorting the first ferry of twenty porters; our aim was to set up a temporary base camp. We started early on a beautiful morning, and following good tracks we reached Upper Ramser in a little over three hours. The solitary herdsman's hut here was deserted except for a few yaks. The view was impressive. To our left rose the rocky slopes of Boktoh, 19,500 feet, attempted by Kempe and Lewis last year. To the right Rathong peak, c. 22,000 feet, rose to a finely shaped summit, near at hand and, at present, more inspiring than the long ice ridge of Kabru which stretched away to the north. Just across the expanse of ice and rubble of the Yalung glacier and its tributary the west Rathong glacier, about 4 miles away, rose Koktang peak, 20,166 feet, a beautiful mountain with a fine fluted summit ridge of ice. Between Rathong and Koktang we could see the Rathong pass first climbed from this side by Raeburn and Crawford in 1920. Rounding a bend in the valley above Upper Ramser we gained our first view of Kangchenjunga, a magnificent sight; the ice-shelf was visible, and the steep rock face above, unexpectedly clear of snow. About 2 miles above Ramser we found a pleasant place for a camp; the coolies dumped their loads and made off for Tseram. We estimated our height at about 15,000 feet. In the evening we climbed the moraine ridge above camp and looked down on to the vast expanse of glacier, which appeared to be over a mile wide at this point; it swept round in a great curve to the right towards the foot of Kangchenjunga. Kabru and Rathong rising from the opposite bank appeared to be quite unapproachable from here owing to the immense hanging glaciers which were attached to their lower slopes. Hie next morning was fine again and we set off the valley to select our next camp-site. We followed the moraine ridge hoping to find a suitable crossing place to the left bank of the glacier. Reaching a cut-off below the Tso glacier where the ridge had tumbled into the moraine below, we retraced our steps along the avalanchy slopes and tried to force a descent. We soon came upon Kempe and Tucker who had left Tseram early that morning. We finally selected a suitable place for a descent and proceeded to prepare the way. It was an unpleasant place and involved a steep 200-foot slope composed of loose and crumbling debris. We fixed a rope here as a handrail for the porters, and as the main party was far behind, we decided to make the crossing together the following day. We pitched camp about 2 miles above our former site, and were soon comfortable inside our tents whilst the usual afternoon snowfall started. Kempe and Lewis, travelling light, had taken only eight days to reach Tseram from Darjeeling; they had brought with them some welcome mail, Most of the loads had now been ferried up from Tseram, but Ajeeba had not arrived yet from Ghunza, and our shortage of porter food was beginning to cause some alarm.

The whole party moved up the next day; the descent from the moraine ridge to the glacier could be negotiated by only one man at a time, and it took over three hours before all the loads were finally assembled at the bottom. The next section involved three hours of boulder-hopping; we then crossed the glacier at a right- angle and climbed steeply up the other bank, camping on a grassy shelf at about 16,000 feet, a mile short of 'Nao' camp. Ferry parties were organized the next day to bring up the remaining loads from below. Ajeeba had sent some porters with about 100 lb. of food but the tsampa was of inferior quality, and the Sherpas refused to eat it. We took an inventory of our food, and decided that immediate action was necessary. Kempe and I left for Tseram with seven Sherpas; one of the Sherpas, Ang Dawa, had developed mumps and would have to be left to recuperate there in the yakherd's care. Tucker and Jackson, meanwhile, were to take a light camp up the glacier to select a possible site for an advanced base camp, and to study the problem of an approach to the ice-shelf. On our arrival at Tseram there was still no sign of Ajeeba; he had been gone ten days, and the time had come to devise an alternative plan. Two Sherpas were accordingly instructed to descend to Yenguthang, one long day down the valley, where supplies were stated to be available, and rejoin us at advanced base in six days; two more were sent to Darjeeling for sugar, atta, and kerosene and instructed to meet us again within a fortnight. Both these parties performed splendidly. Kempe and I then returned with our two remaining Sherpas, and reached the upper camp to find only Lewis in residence with two Sherpas. Tucker, Jackson, and Matthews were camped on a rocky outcrop below the north-west face of Talung peak. Kempe and I moved up the next day, accompanied by a ferry of Sherpas. With our Sherpa strength now reduced to four, it would take several days to move everything up. We met Tucker's party in the afternoon, and camped beside a small dry lake above a tributary glacier issuing from Talung peak. The next morning we moved to a better site half a mile higher up, overlooking the head of the main glacier. From this camp, c. 17,000 feet, we were in a position to examine the southwest face of Kangchenjunga and to study the main approaches to the ice-shelf. The view was magni Scent. An immense mountain wall, thrusting dozens of summits upwards, encircled the entire glacier head. From the Talung saddle in the east to Kangbachen and White Wave peak in the west, the ridge was continuous, seldom less than 24,000 feet high, with the main summits of Kangchenjunga rising vertically 10,000 feet above the glacier. The steepness of the upper face, rising about 4,000 feet above the ice-shelf, was deceptive; but it seemed to be quite possible to traverse diagonally upwards to the left, beyond the upper end of the shelf. This upward traverse, by means of a snow slope skirting a familiar sickle-shaped rock buttress, led to a point on the rocks of the summit ridge. The rocks were quite free of snow, but appeared to be difficult; we estimated the distance between the summit and this point on the summit ridge as about a quarter of a mile with probably 750 feet of ascent. As to the question of a route to the shelf, there appeared to be three possibilities. The first was the main ice-fall, a horrible mass of tottering seracs and ice- blocks, coursing its tortuous way down to the glacier from the upper end of the shelf 6,000 feet above. The next possibility was a hogsback ridge or spur abutting against the south-west face and leading to the lower or eastern end of the shelf; the approach to the hogsback was not visible from our camp, but obviously lay in the direction of the ice-fall below the Talung saddle. A third possibility was the ascent of a tributary glacier to the left of the main Kangchenjunga ice-fall. It appeared that above the seracs of this glacier the possibility existed of entering the upper part of the main ice-fall; this assumption proved to be wrong later. Subsidiary glaciers reduced in size, issuing from the north face of Talung peak, were constantly avalanching and presented a serious threat to the entire right-hand edge of the main glacier below.

Whilst our four Sherpas were engaged lifting loads from the lower camp where Lewis was organizing ferries, the rest of us went up the main glacier. We followed a medial moraine, which provided very comfortable going for about three-quarters of a mile, until we reached ice. The ice was very broken, except at the right-hand edge where the smooth surface was scattered with the debris of avalanches which were constantly pouring off the precipices below Talung peak. Avalanches of every size and description hurtled down this face every hour of the day and night, and almost made us wonder, at this rate of destruction, for how many years the supply of ice could possibly last. After about four hours' going, we reached the foot of some large seracs beyond which stretched a broad ice-field to the foot of the Talung saddle ice-fall. By this time the weather had deteriorated, and we made our way back to camp in a snow squall. We found Ajeeba there, with five coolie loads of supplies from Gunza; his absence of a fortnight, which had delayed our advance up the glacier and had caused us to fall seriously short of porters' food, was explained by the Ghunza headman's repudiation of his agreement over supplies. This story, if true, did not enhance our opinion of Ajeeba's competence as a sirdar. The next day, in very poor weather, Kempe and I crossed the glacier in order to have a like at the route up the subsidiary glacier to the left of the main Kangchenjunga ice-fall. There was low cloud all morning and some snow showers, but the weather improved in the afternoon, and our determination to continue was rewarded. Reaching the opposite bank of the glacier, we negotiated some steep rocks above the moraine and followed a long, grassy ridge overlooking the snout of the subsidiary glacier now in a state of retreat. At the farthest end of this ridge we came upon the remains of Guillarmod's 1905 camp. A crude wooden cross marked Pache's grave; the tent platforms were remarkably well preserved, and old tins lay scattered about; we were obviously the first visitors since the camp had been abandoned forty-nine years ago. The site proved to be a good viewpoint. We could judge clearly now the dangers of the avalanchy slopes above, clearly marked with tracks of recent falls. The slopes led to a shoulder culminating in a subsidiary point, which, we thought, might give access to the main ice-fall on the right. We were to discover later that this was not the case; and, therefore, the only possible purpose this route might serve would be to provide the beginning of a prodigious climb up the south-west face, to a point on the summit ridge more than a mile away from the summit of Kangchenjunga, and over another summit of about 27,000 feet. The point which we reached on the glacier yesterday could be seen now in better perspective; at the head of the glacier we could see the Talung saddle ice-fall which had been described by Harold Raeburn as' vicious in the extreme'. The next day, whilst the remaining loads were ferried up to our 17,000-foot camp, Tucker, Jackson, and Lewis went up the glacier to prepare a route beyond the seracs to the ice-field at the head. Kempe, Matthews, and I spent the morning ascending the lower ice-fall below Talung peak; part of this route was familiar to Kempe from this ascent of the north-west peak of Kabru in 1953. Heavy cloud robbed us of a view of Kangchenjunga, which was the main object of our excursion.

On 5th May Jackson and I established a camp on a rocky outcrop below the big seracs guarding the ice-field. The next morning Kempe and Tucker arrived from below early and accompanied us up the glacier. Skirting the seracs to the left, we found a good route, though not quite out of range of the bombardment from Talung peak. We advanced towards the head of the glacier below the Talung saddle ice-fall, and here, at about 18,000 feet, we decided to place our advanced base. Setting aside Pache's grave route for the moment, we decided to examine (a) the Talung saddle ice-fall, and (b) a rock rib which seemed likely to give access to the upper part of the main Kangchenjunga ice-fall. Kempe and Tucker returned to the ¹ lower camp to organize the advance of the main party, while Jackson and I on 7th May established a camp at the head of the glacier. We took care to choose a site which appeared to be reasonably out of range of avalanches from Talung peak to the right, and from the ice-shelf, 6,000 feet above to the left. That afternoon we reconnoitred a route up the lower part of the ice-fall, and reached the foot of a prominent conical-shaped rock buttress at about 19,000 feet. The weather, unfortunately, was cloudy with snow showers. We enjoyed some fine ice climbing but the steeper slopes were unsafe with a thin covering of new snow. The following day Lewis brought up four laden Sherpas. Kempe and Tucker were busy trying to find a route to the left of the seracs, as a short section of our original route was exposed to avalanches on the right-hand edge which appeared to grow more and more menacing. Eventually our first route proved to be the most practicable, and was traversed safely innumerable times, although the increasing debris changed one section almost beyond recognition. On 9th May Jackson, Lewis, and I went up the Talung saddle ice-fall to extend our earlier route. It was obvious from below that just above a wide area of seracs, the base of which Jackson and I had already visited, lay a snow basin at about 20,000 feet. From this basin it seemed possible, by traversing left on 1 lie edge of the upper seracs, to reach an upper basin at approximately 1,500 feet. From the upper basin, it appeared that a steep traverse t o the left would give access to the hogsback ridge. From this ridge, a short, exposed section led direct to the eastern end of the ice-shelf. The section leading from the upper basin to the hogsback was not visible from below; the presence of steep, overhanging ice was suspected, and careful investigation would be required. We reached our previous point in 1 ¼ hours, though it had taken us 21 hours before. This, however, virtually marked the end of our progress for the day. Slippery rock and ice gully slowed us, and rounding a corner to the right we reached an entrance into the first snow basin. Jackson and Lewis climbed 100 feet of steep rock above this to gain a better view, but; the weather had closed in and it was soon snowing. The possibility of an avalanche from the upper seracs directly above us gave us an unpleasant feeling all morning, and we left having accomplished little. On 10th May we went up the ice-fall again; this time we bore to the right, and reaching the seracs, we managed to surmount a ten foot wall, from where we looked into the snow basin. The next day Kempe and Tucker took a Sherpa up to prepare and flag the route. Jackson and Lewis, meanwhile, went to examine the rock rib east of the main Kangchenjunga ice-fall, which turned out to be unpromising. We took a party of Sherpas up the ice-fall on nth May, and with the aid of a fixed rope they negotiated the ice-fall without difficulty. Barely 100 yards beyond this, we reached a huge crevasse garding the entrance to the basin. It extended throughout the length of the slope, and there was no way round. At its narrowest point, about 10 feet across, a sectional ladder would have got us over. We made an unsuccessful attempt to get across, but realized, in any case, that it would be unreasonable to expect the porters to follow. Disappointed, we returned to camp and decided to move lower down as the constant thunder of avalanches at the head of the glacier was becoming quite unnerving, and on more than one occasion an onrush of finely ground ice dust had reached our very tents. We found a good site on rocks near the foot of the main Kangchenjunga ice-fall at about 17,500 feet. Ajeeba was sent down to Ramser with a party of Sherpas to fetch some wooden poles from the yakherd's hut, whereby we hoped to construct a bridge across the crevasse.

Meanwhile, we turned our attentions to the Kangchenjunga ice- fall. On our first excursion we were pleasantly surprised to find how easy it turned out to be, and in 2 hours we were able to ascend 1,500 feet without meeting any difficulties. We had discovered that the ice-fall was composed of roughly three sections. The lower section rose for about 3,000 feet to a broken plateau roughly half a mile wide; this led in turn to a steep upper section of approximately 2,500 feet ending on the western extremity of the ice-shelf. On 14th May Kempe, Tucker, and I, with one Sherpa, started up the ice-fall again, flagging our route. Following our original tracks, we reached our previous highest point in just over an hour. A few hundred feet above this we reached an area of huge t able-topped ice-blocks riven with deep crevasses. We spent some time looking around for an alternative to the right and to the left, but eventually returned to our original impasse, where we found that the problem was confined to an 18-foot near vertical ice-wall with a rickety ice-block as a starting-point. It seemed a doubtful proposition, and bore an air of impermanence; although I believe that the wall itself could have been won by means of a generous ice staircase and a stout handrail. We were able to observe later that above this point the main difficulties of this lower section appeared to be less offensive as far as the midway plateau. Whilst we were thus engaged, Jackson and Lewis were busy at the extreme right-hand edge of the ice-fall, where a narrow rib of rock forms its eastern containing wall. They had managed to gain about the same height as ourselves, but had traversed thereafter on to the rib, and were able to enjoy a fine walk along its rocky crest, making good height all the while. Reaching its extremity at over 20,000 feet, they had attempted to cross over on to the ice again, but wisely returned owing to the late hour and the treacherous state of the seracs. They experienced great difficulty descending the ice-fall again after leaving the rib, and did not recommend their route along the right-hand edge of the ice. After this it was decided that an attempt ought to be made to reach the top of the rock rib, where there was reported to be a good site for camp. We started up the ice-fall the next morning, taking a line to the right of our original route, but soon realized that the portents were becoming too alarming, with dangerously poised blocks at our heads and debris scattered about generously. It was obviously better to leave this bit alone, so we split into two parties. Jackson and Lewis volunteered to exploit a rock buttress in an attempt to find an alternative approach to the top of their rock rib: Kempe, Tucker, and I mustered some porters from, below, with the wooden poles which had now arrived, and started up towards the Talung saddle ire-fall. A shock greeted us when we saw the debris of a huge avalanche scattered across the bottom of our former route. But the biggest shock came when we reached the crevasse. The place had altered greatly, and the width of the gap, at its narrowest point, appeared to be about 15 feet now. Even the tallest of the poles proved inadequate for our purpose. The whole area had been shattered by some vast glacial movement. We dumped the poles disconsolately and started down. The other party returned to camp soon after, and gave us the good news that they had arrived at the top of their rib by an entirely safe and straightforward route up the rock buttress. This was a fine piece of route-finding, for the apparently steep and exposed nature of the buttress had misled us into regarding it as unworthy of further examination. We carried a camp up the buttress on 16th May with eight Sherpas, two of whom we retained. The route turned out to be surprisingly easy; at three points handlines were fixed, but the porters appeared to be quite at ease on the rocks and had to be persuaded to put on a rope. At the top of the rib, at about 20,500 feet, we found an excellent camp site, and were soon busy erecting our tents. One unhappy incident marred the day's general feeling of jubilation. On the scree slopes at the foot of the buttress, a stone had been accidently dislodged, and before Matthews was able to heed the warning from above, it had struck the little finger of his right hand causing a deep laceration and fracturing a joint. He had joined us to film the climb, but was now obliged to return to camp and insisted that none of us should accompany him back except his personal Sherpa. The 17th May dawned cloudy. After an early breakfast we climbed the slopes above our camp to find that access on to the ice-fall looked unhopeful. Jackson and Lewis stated that the ice formation had undergone some change since their last visit, and as we looked at the tottering pinnacles of ice above and below, it was only too evident how continuous the process was. It seemed unwise, from here at any rate, to attempt to force a passage. Donning crampons, we raced across a narrow but ominous ice gully to the right, and gained a subsidiary spur on the edge of the ice-fall. Climbing along this for a couple of hundred feet, we reached a cut-off, and realized that the only possible means of access on to the ice-fall was slightly below and to the left. The existing conditions, however, were too dangerous to justify an attempt, and a driving mist had, by now, hidden from us the upper part of the ice-fall. Later on, from Talung peak, we estimated that had we succeeded in entering the ice-fall at this point, we would have found ourselves approximately 500 feet below the midway plateau. On returning to camp we were greeted by three Sherpas who had come up from below. They reported that an avalanche, rather more terrifying than usual, had fallen in the night, and that one of their tents had been struck down by the blast. As it seemed that no useful purpose could be served by our continued residence at our high camp, we packed up in a snow squall and started to descend. On arrival below we found Matthews in good spirits, despite his injury. Our first task was to move the camp to a safer site, which we were able to find about 200 yards lower down. The next was to hold a council of war. Despite our efforts on both routes, the ice-shelf had eluded us. I'ache's grave route did not seem an attractive alternative. But for our deficiency in bridging equipment, we would have entered the snow basin below the Tailing saddle; and also, we thought, overcome the lower section of the Kangchenjunga ice-fall.

More as a gamble, I suppose, than in the belief that it would enable us to establish ourselves on the shelf, we decided to make a, last determined effort to reach the snow basin below the Talung; saddle. As the crevasse was still impregnable, we would make our bid via the rock and ice gully to the left of the seracs and below the conical-shaped rock buttress. Our object, really, was to reach the head of the basin and, if possible, explore the route to the upper basin; also, chiefly, to study the section landing from the upper basin to the hogsback. The morning of 18th May was cloudy, and I was very disappointed; for I had a secret hope that, as we felt fit and were thoroughly familiar with the lower part of the route, we would make a supreme effort to go high today. Jackson and I, accompanied by a Sherpa, left camp at 8. We reached the foot of the Talung saddle ice-fall in an hour; menacing clouds were travelling up the valley, and enveloped us half an hour later, when light snow began to fall. We reached the gully after negotiating some steep seracs, and started to tackle 50 feet of rock slabs, our last obstacle before the snow basin. There were three easy pitchers which we negotiated moving one at a time. Jackson, finishing in the last, called out that we were five minutes from the basin. I was last on the rope, and was just preparing to begin the final pitch when we heard an ominous crack from above. We crouched our heads as boulders began to hurtle past, and in an instant I received a -terrible blow on the head. Completing the pitch, we raced for shelter under an ice overhang, and took stock of our position. Fortunately, my scalp injury was not serious, but the accident had put paid to our plans for the day. Jackson advanced some distance towards the basin, and was able to see the big crevasse about 150 feet below, some distance away to the right. Immediately ahead, beyond an initial crevassed area, the basin appeared to be devoid of hazards as far as visibility would allow. We had paid for our folly in exposing ourselves to the patent dangers of the gully route, and, as we turned our backs to the basin for the last time, regret made our disappointment the more bitter. The descent to camp was accomplished without incident. Matthews stitched my wound, and I was confined to my tent for the whole of the next day, anguished as much mentally as I was physically.

Matthews and I had to return to our respective jobs and it was decided to quit the mountain, and to make an attempt on Talung peak, c. 23,000 feet. Ajeeba was sent down to Ghunza to recruit porters for the return journey. Kempe, Tucker, and Lewis descended to the 17,ooo-foot camp on the 19th; Jackson, Matthews, and I followed on the 20th; the changes on this part of the glacier in three weeks astonished us. On arrival at the lower camp we were able to observe the three others on the slopes of Talung peak locating a camp site for their attempt. They returned full of enthusiasm ; it had been a joy to climb without the oppressive feeling of threatened avalanches poised above. They would take a camp up to about 21,000 feet tomorrow, and attempt the summit the next day. The thought that I would not accompany them depressed me for the remainder of the afternoon, especially as my injury had so far healed unexpectedly well. Our last evening together was spent enjoyably. We lit a bonfire of cardboard boxes and packing paper and sat round it yarning and smoking until the evening cold drove us into the mess tent.

On 21st May, whilst Matthews and I descended to Tseram, the others went up Talung peak. They found a good camp site as a result of their reconnaissance, but were prevented from reaching the top by a nasty cut-off which barred access to the upper part of the north face; they discovered later that the route lay slightly farther to the west. The most useful result of the climb, however, had been the opportunity to study both the Kangchenjunga ice-fall and the hogsback route. After the climb they descended to Ramser, where they were met by Jackson's brother John who arrived with providential supplies of food, a gift from the Daily Mail ‘Yeti' expedition which had just concluded. Matthews and I returned via the Chum- bab Ia, Yampung, and Pemienchi, returning to Darjeeling on 28th May. The others followed the Singalila ridge back. Lewis, accompanied by a Sherpa, came back via Yenguthang, Khebang, and a low-level route through Nepal, meeting the others again at Phalut bungalow. This route is strongly recommended to future expeditions, as the Singalila ridge proved to be unsuitable for a large party in the early spring.

Photo T. H. Braham

Kangchenjunga from 17,000 ft. camp on Yalung glacier showing main ice fall left and hogsback right. Arrows indicate Pcche’s grave.

Photo G.C. Lewis

Uppr face of Kangchenjunga above ice shelf, showing sickle shaped rock below and to left of summit. In the right foreground is Talung Peak.

Photo Julius Brenner by courtesy of Deutsche Himalaya Stiftung

Kangchenjunga from the south.

Summing up the results of our visit, it would seem that the Kangchenjunga ice-fall offers the best chance of success. The problem is immense, with 6,000 feet to be traversed from the foot of the ice-fall to the edge of the shelf. Beyond the shelf, one is struck by the predominant steepness of the upper face of Kangchenjunga.) The approach to the eastern end of the shelf, via the hogsback, greatly favoured in the early stages, is probably unworthy of further effort after the conclusion reached from Talung peak that access on to the hogsback was rendered impossible owing to overhanging ice. Avalanches are a serious menace. It is probably no exaggeration to say that during May there is one every ten minutes on the upper glacier. Good weather is essential. From the experience we gained, May would seem to be the best month for the main assault. Fine mornings and evenings were generally the rule, with snow falling in the afternoon or at night. Storms were rare, and of short duration. By normal standards, neither of the two routes we examined can be regarded as completely safe. But Kangchenjunga is almost a law unto itself. Fluctuating natural factors, the exigencies of the moment, and, to some extent, good fortune, will guide the judgement of those who are ultimately successful.

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