X. MOUNTAIN PHOTOGRAPHY
BY SYDNEY SPENCER
It is somewhat superfluous to draw attention to the immense popularity attained by photography in the mountains. Among climbers very few are content to supply their requirements from the work of others, and it may safely be asserted that a camera is almost certain of its place in the outfit of at least three-fourths of the climbing parties of the present day. It is true that the majority of these confine themselves to snapshot photography. This cannot be regarded as a serious form of the art, seeing that it is practically impossible to compose a picture on the diminutive scale of the usual view-finder, and that the films generally used are too uncertain in results. Photographers, also, of this class very rarely trouble to do their own developing.
Excellent work can, however, be done with a hand camera. It has one drawback: the lens is usually a fixture, and provides only one fixed focus, a very important consideration in serious photography. But if the climber decides to use such a hand camera, the following remarks may be of service.
[Sidenote: The Camera.]
The best form for mountain work is the folding variety. There are innumerable good makes from which to choose. Reflex cameras are too bulky for mountain work. The adjustments should be as simple as possible; and for good work a focussing glass is essential. The lens, by far the most important portion of the camera, should be the very best obtainable. It should be fitted with automatic shutter for instantaneous and time exposures, and also with a lens cap. This latter I have always preferred to use for long exposures in preference to an automatic shutter. It is much easier to avoid shaking the camera in removing a lens cap than it is in pressing the lever of an automatic shutter. The use of a wooden folding tripod with a triangle top I strongly recommend in preference to the brass or aluminium tripod with telescoping legs, since such legs are not sufficiently rigid. I advocate the use of glass plates; and three dark slides, or better still, a changing box to hold six plates or twelve cut films, complete the apparatus. So far, the most satisfactory changing box I have come across is one ‘made in Germany’; of which the description is given on another page of this chapter. An adapter for a film-pack adds very little to the weight, and is a useful addition to the outfit. A hand camera such as I have described is of great service on rock climbs of difficulty, where it is not expedient to embarrass the party by taking the more complicated paraphernalia of a stand camera.
There is a type of climber to whom the merely gymnastic or, we will say, athletic side of climbing is not the sole aim and object of the sport. He is an enthusiastic lover of the marvellous beauties of the mountain recesses, and wishes to take home impressions of the peaks and glaciers as he himself has seen them; for climbers know well that the mountains are ever changing in aspect from one year to another, or even from season to season. He sees and desires to record atmospheric effects which may never be repeated during his climbing experience. He takes his photography seriously, and he is consequently prepared to put himself to a considerable amount of trouble to obtain really artistic records of the scenery amongst which he climbs.
For such a type of climber I decidedly recommend the stand camera in preference to the hand camera. It entails rather more trouble, but this is certain to be justified by the superior results.
The component parts of a stand camera outfit may be enumerated shortly as follows:
1. Body of the Camera.--This should be of the best possible make, with metal-bound corners, and fitted with a metal turn-table. All the metal parts should be of aluminium, for the sake of lightness. It should have the usual rising front and swing-back, and an adjustable focussing glass for horizontal or vertical pictures. The body must, of course, fold up, and it is most important that all the adjustments should be as simple as possible, so as not to waste valuable time in a climbing day.
2. The Lens.--This, as I have already remarked, is the most vital feature of a camera. For stand camera work I would urge the adoption of a set of three or four interchangeable lenses, as this gives the photographer a wide range of focal angles to choose from, and practically enables him to include in his pictures just as much as he desires. For a half-plate camera, two 14-inch, one 11½-inch and one 9-inch lens make a good set, giving a series of focal lengths ranging from 5¾ inches to 14 inches. For a quarter-plate camera, two 11½-inch, one 9-inch and one 7¼-inch lens will give a range of focal lengths from 4⅛ inches to 11½ inches. The lens mount is fitted with an iris diaphragm and a detachable ring marked with the apertures suitable for each lens combination. A yellow screen, of such a shade as to increase the exposure by three times, is useful where there are trees or grass in the foreground, and serves also to soften the shadows. Its use ensures clouds not being lost in development through over-exposure, although it cannot be claimed that successful results may not be obtained without it. It is also of distinct advantage in a hazy atmosphere. A Thornton Pickard shutter will be found useful, but for time exposures the lens cap is really all that is necessary.
3. Three ordinary double-back slides are usually taken; but they may be replaced by a changing box--a more convenient and compact way of carrying the plates. Most of the changing boxes on the market are made with a folding leather bag at one end, and the changing of the plates from front to back is effected by hand; but the writer has always used a changing box in which an inner shell pulls out like a drawer, taking with it, by means of a clip, the exposed plate in its sheath. As soon as the inner shell is drawn out to its full length the sheath drops to the bottom of the shell. This is then pushed back again, and the used plate slides in at the back of the unexposed plates, which have meanwhile been pushed up by a spring. The metal sheaths are numbered on the back. The photographer can see which number has been taken by turning over the box when he has partly pushed back the inner shell after the exposed plate has dropped to the bottom. He will then see the number through a red glass-covered opening. As this appears to be the only box of the kind which is made, it may be advisable to state that it is known as the ‘Grundmann’ changing box. Some enterprising British firm should be induced to bring out something similar. The movements are so simple that it can hardly fail to work properly.
Six plates are generally sufficient for one day’s work, and a changing box made for that number will not weigh more than three dark slides with the same number of plates. If desired, the six plates can be replaced by twelve cut films in suitable thin sheaths.
4. The Tripod.--The ordinary camera legs on the market are, even when folded, inconveniently long for mountain work, and for rock climbing may prove a real source of danger. For comfort, legs when folded should not measure more than 12 inches at the utmost. It is best to have a set specially made, and I know of nothing better than a set made in the following manner. The bottom section of each leg is a solid square-sided aluminium bar with a very sharp point. This slides into a square wooden frame. Over the frame the two next sections are folded; the top one folds inside the second, so as to unfold in the same direction. Made in this way, the tops need only to be pressed together in order to fit them, with a slight spring, on to the pegs of the turn-table. A cross strut makes the fit tight and immovable. The total length of the legs opened out is about 42 inches, which is quite as long as is necessary for mountain work. A set of legs made in this way stands perfectly rigid; it will also go easily into the side pocket of the rucksack, or it can be carried on the top of the sack without the slightest inconvenience to the climber.
5. The outfit is completed by a focussing cloth, with a running tape along one side, which prevents the cloth from blowing about in the wind.
As regards the comparative merits of glass plates and films, the latter have the one great advantage of lightness, but they are notoriously uncertain and much more difficult to control in development. The most satisfactory results are obtained with slow plates, of which six are enough for any ordinary expedition.
It is not a bad plan to take in addition an adapter with a film-pack, for snapshots of climbing incidents.
The best size of camera to take is a debatable point. Half plate is the largest which can be carried with convenience; and for the best results there is no question whatever that the larger size is the better to work with. A half-plate camera, as described, can be carried on most ascents of average difficulty; with the possible exception, perhaps, of strenuous rock climbs, such as the Dru or the Grépon, where anything but a hand camera is liable to be a distinct incumbrance.
But on the whole, for all-round utility I am inclined to recommend the quarter-plate size. In addition to the economy in weight and bulk of the whole apparatus, the quarter-plate negatives are a more convenient size from which to make lantern slides, and excellent enlargements can always be made from good negatives of this dimension.
[Sidenote: The Choice of Subject.]
We come now to the all-important question of choice of subject; one on which it is most difficult to give definite advice, seeing that so much depends on the artistic perceptions of the photographer. Photography to a certain extent is a mechanical art, but good photographers invest their work with a decided individuality; and it is this at which the novice should aim.
The first thing to bear in mind is the proper balance of proportions. To achieve this the set of interchangeable lenses already recommended are indispensable. Without them a photographer must find considerable difficulty in conveying the true impressions of the mountain landscape as seen from the point at which the photograph is taken.
Panoramic views of distant ranges will of course always continue to be taken; but as pictures they are of small value unless they are assisted by atmospheric effects of cloud or mist.
In photographing peaks close at hand, it is usually best not to include more than one summit in the picture, or at any rate to make one peak the central point of interest. Others may only be included if they can be made to enhance the value of the main feature in the composition. The majority of views of this type look best if they are taken on plates placed vertically; but this is by no means a rule to be rigidly followed. Broad mountain masses, such as Mont Blanc and the Grandes Jorasses, or composite peaks, of the type of Monte Rosa, should always be taken horizontally.
The chief feature in the picture should never be placed in the centre, but rather to one side of the view; and the lines of intervening ridges and glaciers should be included, so as to lead the eye towards the main object. This produces the necessary impression of distance and depth; an easy effect generally, if the photo is taken from below, but not always feasible if the view is from a summit. The effect of distance and depth is always much helped by a good foreground, but the foreground must not on any account draw the attention from the main feature.
Such a foreground is of special value in the case of views of peaks as seen from a summit, where it is not possible to include the base of the peaks in the picture. A few rocks intruding in the immediate foreground, or a ridge running so as to connect the distant view with the standpoint of the photographer, removes the feeling of blankness and of lack of distance which the absence of any foreground is apt to produce.
The amount of sky which may be properly included should occupy from about a quarter to a third of the plate. Too much sky produces a very bad effect; whilst, on the other hand, many photographers make the mistake of bringing the peaks too near the top of the picture, giving them an unnaturally attenuated appearance.
Ice-falls and much-broken glaciers compose very easily. On the other hand, broad expanses of snow-field are about the most difficult subject the mountain photographer can tackle. The texture of the snow is the one thing to aim at. If this is not brought out, the picture is valueless. Slight under-exposure is the secret of success. For these subjects it is better to have the sun well in front, as the light on the snowy surface is then well broken by shadows.
For the other kinds of mountain subjects I should recommend the novice, where slow plates are used, to err on the side of over-exposure, and to develop slowly. By this method he will find it is easier to get atmosphere into his pictures. A certain amount of detail may be lost in the distant objects, but he will secure a much truer gradation between his distances.
As regards the development of slow plates, it should be noted that this can be carried out with comparative strong light, provided it is suitably shaded. The developer should be gradually increased in strength. The photographer can then see easily what he is doing, and, by means of brushwork, can control the development of any portion of the negative.
Broken light is essential to the success of most mountain photographs, and for this reason the best time for taking them is usually early and late in the day. This is of course not an invariable rule, and the photographer must be guided by the subject he has in front of him. Moreover, the climber is not always able to choose the time of day for his work. If the midday light is very brilliant, the yellow screen can be utilized. Personally, I have used it very seldom, but have made a practice of using a very small stop, and have trusted to slow development for the rest.
[Sidenote: Colour Photography.]
I should like also to draw attention to two other forms of photography which have been introduced in recent years, and have proved very attractive to climbers. Colour photography exercises an extraordinary fascination, and it would doubtless become still more popular if the plates were less costly. There are several forms of plates and processes, and with all of them some remarkable results have been obtained. The different processes vary somewhat in simplicity of manipulation. One of the simplest is the Lumière Autochrome. The photograph is taken in the ordinary way, but with the proper light filter, as prescribed, fixed on the lens front. It is to be remembered that the focussing glass must be reversed owing to the fact that the plate is placed in the dark slide with the film turned inside. The essential point is to learn to judge of the correct exposure. Over-exposure can be corrected by intensification, but it is a troublesome process. The development is perfectly simple if the instructions given are carefully followed. It is very important to see that the solutions used are cold enough, otherwise the unhappy photographer runs the risk of watching a perfectly successful colour picture melt away in front of his eyes.
[Sidenote: Stereoscopic Photography.]
The other form referred to is stereoscopic photography, which is more particularly adapted to snapshots of climbing incidents and to studies of rock and glacier scenery near at hand, since the pictures can be taken with the camera held at any angle, even pointing directly above the head or below the feet, and the scenes are afterwards reproduced in marvellously lifelike manner in the stereoscope. To secure the full stereoscopic effect the ‘lines’ of the picture should start from the immediate foreground and carry the eye away to the main object, i.e. the camera should be held close down to the surface of water or glacier, or with one side close against a wall of rock as foreground. A rock crest running immediately away from the camera, or two, containing walls of ice or rock on either hand, give the best results, and provide the framework of illusion for the more distant scene. The stereoscopic effect is lost in distant views. The handiest size in this camera, the ‘Verascope,’ is 107 cm. by 45 cm. It is made of metal throughout. It carries a detachable magazine of twelve plates, and weighs rather more than a pair of field-glasses. Films can be substituted for plates for lightness, but the results are on the whole inferior. If it is carried in a strong leather case, the camera will stand an extraordinary amount of rough treatment on rocks and immersion in rivers. It is especially suited for difficult climbing and exploration, where it is desired to record special passages and incidents, at angles, and in circumstances and climates, in which the ordinary camera is useless.
* * * * *
My final piece of advice is, never leave the camera behind, and never waste plates or time unless the result is likely to be successful.
XI. MOUNTAINEERING IN TROPICAL COUNTRIES
BY A. F. R. WOLLASTON
(The suggestions contained in this chapter are based on some experience of travel in the mountains of Africa and New Guinea, and it is assumed that the conditions are not materially different in the mountains of tropical South America. It is taken for granted that the transport animal is man, and that after entering the mountains the traveller must depend entirely on the provisions he carries with him. The medical suggestions are intended only for those who have no special knowledge of the subject, and for conditions in which only the simplest treatment is possible.)
HEALTH
The first essential to the success of an expedition lies in the good health of the various members of the party. Hard work in the trying conditions of tropical mountains soon saps the energy of the most robust, but by taking proper precautions a man may continue in good health for six months or even longer.
[Sidenote: Prevention of Sickness.]
When the body is for many hours daily bathed in sweat and smeared with mud, personal cleanliness becomes of the first importance. A bath, if it can be managed, or a sponge-down, should be the rule every evening, and all cuts and scratches must be carefully attended to and protected from infection. The question of hot or cold water may be left to the preference of the individual, with this reservation, that no man should ever take a cold bath when he has cooled down after freely perspiring.
The teeth are liable in hot climates to become loose and even to fall out. They should be kept scrupulously clean, and the mouth may be washed out with a weak solution of Condy’s fluid. The hair should at all times be cropped short both for comfort and cleanliness, and paraffin or some other oil should be rubbed into the scalp.
A regular action of the bowels is even more necessary in tropical than in temperate climates. There may be some difficulty about this on a diet of tinned foods, but it can generally be ensured by a daily plate of porridge (see below, Constipation). To avoid malaria every effort must be made to escape the attacks of the anopheles mosquito. It will not be possible for the traveller to carry with him a mosquito-proof tent, but failing this, he must use a well-constructed mosquito net, made in one piece, without an opening at the side. The lower edge of the net should not hang loosely, but should be tucked under the edge of the mattress if one be used, or otherwise stretched tightly round the edge of the bed. The meshes of the muslin should not be less than twelve to the inch. It is good economy, as well as being more humane, to provide your ‘boys’ and other servants with mosquito nets. Mosquito boots, i.e. light boots with long loose uppers of canvas or thin leather, into which the trousers can be tucked, are conveniently worn in the evening to prevent mosquitoes biting the ankles. If a camp be occupied for several days, it is advisable to see that stagnant pools near by are filled up, and that no discarded tins are lying about to become filled with rain-water, in which mosquitoes may breed.
Here it may be convenient to state that very many diseases of the Tropics--cholera, dysentery, typhoid, bilharzia, etc.--are spread chiefly by means of water. It is therefore of the greatest importance to make sure of a supply of pure water. Filters will remove mud and other suspended matter from water, and a good filter in perfect condition may provide a sterile water; but it is seldom possible to keep a filter perfectly clean, and it is better to do without it altogether. If the water is stagnant, or if there is any possibility of its having been contaminated in any way, it is always advisable to boil it and make tea, or if it is preferred, to aerate it with sparklets. “When in doubt, boil,” is a golden rule.
As a medicinal prevention of malaria there is nothing more effectual than to take a daily dose of 5 grains of quinine bihydrochloride. As this is a somewhat expensive drug, the native members of the expedition, if they are numerous, may be given the less costly (but less soluble) quinine bisulphate, 5 grains. If it is not convenient to give quinine to the natives every day, it may be given to them in 10-grain doses twice a week on consecutive days. The tabloids may be sugar-coated for the natives, who may otherwise surreptitiously reject them.
(The following suggestions are intended for the necessarily limited possibilities of a mountain camp.)
[Sidenote: Treatment.]
Malaria.--So long as his temperature is above normal, the sick man should, if possible, be kept in bed. Give 3 grains of calomel followed by a dose of Epsom salts to clear the liver and bowels. Continue to give three doses of 5 grains each of quinine bihydrochloride every day that the fever lasts; but do not give the quinine while the temperature is raised. When the attack has ceased give 10 grains daily for a week, and afterwards continue with the regular daily dose of 5 grains. At the same time it is very important to make sure of a regular action of the bowels. If, while the attack lasts, headache is very severe and persistent, 5 or 10 grains of phenacetin may be given; but this drug is greatly abused and is often of little or no use. Sweating may be stimulated by giving copious draughts of hot tea; when the sweating stage is at an end, the pyjamas should be immediately changed.
Diarrhœa is a very common trouble, particularly when no fresh food is obtainable. It is usually sufficient to take a dose of castor oil and to eat as little as possible for 24 hours. If this treatment is not effective, give 10 grains of bismuth subnitrate three times daily, and a diet of milk and arrowroot or Horlick’s malted milk. If the diarrhœa ceases, but there is still discomfort in the bowels, 10 drops of chlorodyne may be given, but in most cases it is better to avoid the use of this drug.
Dysentery.--Rest in bed, warmth, a diet of milk and water and arrowroot, and a preliminary dose of castor oil are the first essentials of the treatment. Severe cases may be well treated by the use of emetine hydrochloride, in keratin-coated cachets, containing one ½-grain dose. One dose should be taken each day, and the treatment should be continued until he has taken altogether 8 grains. As an after-treatment it may be good practice to take 2 drams of liquid paraffin every night. There are some who advocate the regular use of this every day as a preventative of intestinal disease, but such a thing will be hardly practicable on a mountain expedition with limited transport. The treatment by ipecacuanha cannot be recommended for camp use. Less severe types of dysentery may be treated by giving small doses (1 dram) of sulphate of magnesia every two or three hours to ensure a free watery purgation, which may be continued until the pain has ceased. If the disease proves to be intractable, the sick man should be removed to the nearest place of civilization as soon as possible.
Constipation is not a very common trouble in tropical mountain expeditions. It may generally be avoided by eating a daily plate of porridge and, if they can be carried, by eating prunes and figs. If the camp arrangements make bread-making possible, it is a good plan to mix with the white flour some whole meal, or, in countries where it is grown, the meal made from millet. If none of these measures ensures a daily action of the bowels, a dose of sulphate of magnesia (½ to 1 ounce) may be taken early in the morning, or one ‘Livingstone Rouser’ or cascara sagrada or two vegetable laxatives (Burroughs & Wellcome) may be taken over-night.
Sunstroke is not at all likely to occur, but if a serious case should happen, and the temperature rise to 105 or 106, the patient should be stripped and wrapped in cold wet blankets until the temperature falls to 103, after which he should be placed in bed in the darkest and coolest place possible; the bowels must be kept open and a liquid diet given for some days.
Coughs and Colds are sometimes exceedingly troublesome. They may often be cured at the outset by taking a hot bath (if that be practicable) with mustard in it, followed by bed with many blankets and a dose (10 to 15 grains) of Dover’s powder. A sore throat may be treated by frequent gargles of weak solution of potassium permanganate (Condy’s fluid) and by sucking tabloids of chlorate of potash. Nasal catarrh may sometimes be cured by sniffing the vapour arising from the open mouth of a bottle of formalin.
Toothache is one of the most frequent and most distressing troubles of a mountain expedition, and it ought, as far as possible, to be avoided by visiting a dentist before leaving civilization. If the pain is in a decayed tooth, it is sometimes sufficient, after clearing away the debris, to put into the cavity some powdered carbonate of soda; it is more efficacious to put in very carefully a small drop of pure carbolic acid on a plug of cotton wool. Pain at the root of a tooth may be relieved by painting the gum with tincture of iodine, but the cheek should be held away from the jaw until the tincture has dried. Some forms of toothache can only be treated by extraction, and no expedition ought to make a long journey without three or four forceps. The sufferer will probably prefer extraction at the hands of an amateur to the horrors of prolonged toothache.
Sleeplessness is often a very serious trouble, not less at high altitudes than in the sweltering heat of the foothills. Sleep may sometimes be induced by drinking a cup of hot cocoa shortly before going to bed; it is also a good plan to have biscuits within reach during the night. If the insomnia is very persistent, it may become necessary to give up smoking and to reduce as far as possible the consumption of tea. The use of powerful sleeping-draughts is strongly to be deprecated, except in extreme cases.
Conjunctivitis is certain to occur to one or more members of the expedition. It is easily treated by a weak solution of boric acid, or an astringent solution of zinc sulphate (1 grain in 1 ounce of water). An eye-bath is easily carried, and is very useful.
Skin Diseases.--The most common that is likely to be met with is ‘prickly heat,’ which is due to extensive sweating. The amount of fluids drunk should be cut down as much as possible, and some relief may be obtained by the use of a weak solution of carbolic acid (1 in 50). It is a good plan to use a dusting powder before going to bed.
‘Scrub Itch’ and ‘Dhobie Itch’ are names given to a very irritating and inflamed condition of the skin, more especially of the moister parts, such as the arm-pits and the inside of the thighs. It is in many cases particularly troublesome at night, and it is not at all easy to cure. The part should be kept scrupulously clean, and a sulphur ointment (10 per cent) may be applied. A dusting powder of zinc and boric acid often gives temporary relief from the irritation.
Ringworm of one kind or another is almost certain to occur among a large number of men. It is hopeless to expect to cure a case during the course of an expedition, but the spread of it may be checked by the use of a sulphur ointment or by painting the part with liniment of iodine.
Body Parasites.--In places where ‘jiggers’ are found, it is certain that the men are adepts at their extraction; but a European, who takes proper care of his feet and wears long boots in camp, need not be troubled by them. If the body is invaded by lice, they can be got rid of by the use of a mercury ointment.
Snake Bite requires the most prompt treatment. Without loss of time a strong ligature must be tied about the limb above the bite: thus, for a bite on the finger the ligature may be at the base of the fingers, for a bite on the hand or forearm it must be above the elbow, and for a bite on the foot or leg the ligature must be above the knee. The ligature must be twisted tightly by means of a stick, and at intervals of about half an hour it should be relaxed for a few seconds to prevent the risk of gangrene. With a sharp knife the whole of the area about the puncture should be freely cut away, and the wound should be washed with a strong solution of permanganate of potash. A less heroic, but less reliable, treatment is to make two or three incisions into the flesh about the puncture, and to rub into the cuts crystals of permanganate of potash. A small quantity of alcohol may be given, and the patient may be put to bed and kept warm. The popular remedies of large quantities of brandy, walking about, and sucking the wound are of no value.
Leeches, by reason of their delicate gait, often find their way into the most intimate and unexpected places, and may be gorged with blood before they are detected. They should never be pulled off: a touch with the juice out of a well-smoked pipe will cause them to shrivel and drop off. In the early mornings, when leeches stretch themselves expectant on every twig, a wise man will walk in the rear of his caravan.
Cuts and Scratches, if not attended to at once, may lead to abscesses and ‘veldt-sores’ and an infinity of trouble. Even the smallest scratch should be treated at once with the iodine bottle, which may be easily carried in a pocket, or if necessary, with a bandage.
Boils are best treated by dusting with boric acid powder and protecting them with a gauze dressing. When they come to a head, the top may be cut off and a drop of pure carbolic acid applied, after which a gauze dressing must be used until it is completely healed.
Abscesses may be opened with a sharp knife, when they ‘point,’ and dressed with a wet gauze dressing, frequently changed, until the discharge has ceased. The smallest abscesses and boils should be treated with extreme care, as they are very liable in the Tropics to develop into ulcers if neglected.
The treatment of Sprains and Fractures must be learnt from one of the many small handbooks of First-aid.
[Sidenote: Medicine Cases and Drugs.]
For use in Africa no better case has been devised than the ‘Congo Chest’ (No. 250) of Messrs. Burroughs, Wellcome & Co., and in other countries, where it cannot be carried far, it is useful as a store to be kept at the base camp. A smaller case, which will fulfil most of the ordinary requirements, is the No. 231 case, weight about 7 lb. For the higher ascents, where only the barest necessities can be carried, a leathern pocket-case (such as No. 114, B. W. & Co.) should be taken. In all circumstances it will be advisable to take an additional supply of bandages and dressings, which cannot be contained in the case itself.
It is important that all drugs should be obtained fresh from the makers shortly before the departure of the expedition.
The following is a list of drugs, etc., which may be found useful in a tropical expedition:
Quinine bihydrochloride gr. v. Quinine bisulphate gr. v. Blaud pill gr. iv. Potassium chlorate gr. v. Dover powder gr. v. Iron and arsenic compound. Bismuth subnitrate gr. v. Ginger essence min. x. Potassium permanganate gr. ii. Calomel gr. i. Salol gr. v. Salicin gr. v. Laxative vegetable. ‘Livingstone Rouser.’ Zinc sulphate gr. i. Opium gr. i. Aspirin gr. v. Phenacetin gr. v. Soda mint. Easton syrup dr. ½ Cascara sagrada gr. ii. Ipecacuanha (sine emetine) gr. v.
In addition to the above, which are taken in tabloid form, a supply should be taken of the following:
Pure carbolic acid. Boric acid. Castor oil. Sulphate of magnesia. Iodoform. Lanolin. Vaselin. Sulphur ointment (1 in 10). Ammoniated mercury ointment (1 in 10). Iodine liniment.
And the following various articles:
Metal-handled lancet. Dressing scissors. Dissecting forceps. Probe. Clinical thermometers. Caustic holder and points. Suture needles and silk. Safety pins. Mustard leaves. Adhesive plaster, 1 inch and 2 inch. Court plaster. Oiled silk. Large supply of bandages of 1-inch and 2-inch width. Supply of lint. Gauze.
EQUIPMENT
(These notes are merely intended to supplement, with special reference to the Tropics, the information on this subject contained in other chapters.)
[Sidenote: Food.]
The mainstay of the ‘Sahib’ or ‘Bwana’ or ‘Tuan’ must be the same as the food of his men: thus, in a wheat country his food is flour, in a millet country, millet, and in a rice country, rice; and to the ordinary Englishman the worst of these is rice. An important point to arrive at in selecting tinned provisions is to take as great a variety as possible. Though it is true that after a few months all tins, meat or fish or fruit, seem to have one and the same flavour, it is possible that a stomach jaded by a long course of beef or mutton may welcome jugged hare or curried prawns. It is worth while, too, to take a few tins de luxe for special festivals. In hot places there is often a craving for strong flavours, and a palate which shuns such things at home cries out for pickles and sauces. There is perhaps little need to say that all tinned foods should be obtained from the best manufacturers, and that any tin which shows a suspicion of ‘bulging’ should be at once discarded. It is probable that no fresh vegetables will be available, and it is unfortunate that of those in tins the wet vegetables are too heavy for limited transport, while the dried variety are tasteless and require a long time for cooking: an exception must be made in favour of Murray Cooksley’s dried potatoes which can be strongly recommended. Failing vegetables, it is very important to eat fruit: dried apple chips, pears, prunes, peaches and apricots, more particularly the latter, should be eaten daily. Raisins and figs are good food, and are conveniently carried in the pocket with biscuits for lunch. Ginger is useful in counteracting the prevailing flavour of tin. Some of the cheeses, notably the flat Dutch variety, are a useful food, and should certainly be taken; nor should anchovies and olives be forgotten. In the higher regions there will be a strong desire--even stronger than in the Alps, possibly on account of the distaste for it in the hot country below--for butter, and this should be of the best kind: it is a good plan to take two varieties, as the flavour of tinned butters varies considerably. The usual drink will probably be tea, as coffee is heavy to carry, and is usually undrinkable as made by the native cook. A cup of cocoa before bedtime is an easily carried luxury. Condensed milk should certainly be taken in considerable quantities for use in sickness; the ‘Ideal’ brand of unsweetened milk mixes well with porridge or stewed fruit. A great saving in transport may be effected by the use of saccharine (or preferably saxin) tabloids.
The use of alcohol is a question about which no one will dare to dogmatize. It should certainly not be taken during the day, but, in the opinion of the writer, a small glass of whisky or, in the Dutch fashion, of gin at or before the evening meal adds to the enjoyment of monotonous food and assists digestion. A bottle or two of brandy should be taken for emergencies, and champagne is of great value in the convalescent stage of malaria or other fevers: this latter should be taken in pint bottles, which may be left at the base camp, whither sick men will necessarily be sent.
[Sidenote: Canteen.]
A great deal of ingenuity has been devoted to the invention of canteens, but most of them are useless to the mountain explorer, who can only afford to carry the fewest and most necessary articles. Weight may be saved by using plates of aluminium, and cooking-pots may be of the same metal if it is possible to ensure their thorough cleaning. Kettles should be made of iron, and cups or mugs of enamelled iron; cups can be made to pack more conveniently one inside the other if the lower half of the handle is cut off. In those Eastern countries, where kerosene tins are used for the transport of provisions, an excellent fire-place can be made by using discarded tins laid on their side--a few holes are knocked in the top and the fire placed inside. Tins of the same kind can be easily adapted to the purpose of baking bread; and in this connection it may be mentioned that in countries where banana wine cannot be obtained, a very good substitute is yeast cakes, one tin of which (price about 1s. 6d.) makes bread enough for one man for six months: bread made with baking powder very quickly becomes dry and uneatable. Tin-openers are very liable to be lost or broken, and a quantity of them should be taken.
[Sidenote: Clothing.]
The most important parts of the clothing in tropical mountaineering are the head-gear and foot-gear. In the lower hills and in the early part of the day when the sun is really hot, a wide-brimmed hat or a helmet with a good protection for the back of the neck should be used; if the helmet is made of ‘pith’ it should be covered on the outside with the thinnest waterproof material, otherwise it becomes sodden and heavy with the first rain. Hats and helmets should be lined with thin red cloth; the latter are more cheaply bought in tropical towns than in this country.
The most careful attention should be devoted to the question of boots, and it is in all cases wise to take more pairs than are thought to be necessary. Most people will find it impossible to wear in the Tropics the heavy boots to which many are accustomed in the Alps; the excessive perspiration makes the feet soft and more easily blistered, and every extra ounce of weight is a serious consideration. The most suitable are ordinary nailed shooting boots, with a plentiful supply of spare nails or ‘saccorb’ screws for the higher ascents. It is a good plan to have the uppers made in one piece, i.e. with no seam down the back. In the Tropics all leathern objects become coated with mould in a few hours, and rot with astonishing rapidity, so that it is advisable to expose spare boots to the sun whenever the opportunity occurs. Dubbin, or some other preparation of the kind, should be freely used.[25] At the end of a hard day it is the greatest comfort to be able to change into a pair of light and soft shoes or boots; when transport is very limited it will still be possible to carry a pair of Canadian moccasins. In the lower country and at the base camp it is advisable in the evening to wear mosquito boots (see above, Malaria).
Khaki or drill suits are more cheaply made locally than in this country; they should be made very amply, and large pockets provided. Sleeves are an almost intolerable nuisance in the lower ground, and they may be cut very short or dispensed with altogether. Shorts are cool and comfortable, but they should not be worn in places where leeches are found, and they cannot be recommended in any case, as the bruises and scratches on the knees are very liable to suppurate in hot climates. Trousers are preferable to breeches or knickerbockers, and light canvas anklets holding the ends of the trousers over the boots are cooler than putties. For underclothing every man must decide for himself. There are those who can wear woollen vests and flannel shirts in the Tropics; but both of those garments quickly become ‘felted’ with profuse sweating, and no amount of washing will restore their softness. Linen or cotton vests are easily washed, and are usually found to be the most comfortable. A flannel shirt and soft woollen sweater should be taken to wear at night in the mountains. Thick woollen socks, several sizes too large, will often help you to sleep on a cold night: a warm woollen cap is useful in the same way.
Cholera belts have been strongly recommended by some travellers, but they are often a source of danger rather than otherwise. The important thing to aim at is to protect the vital organs of the abdomen from chill during the night, and this may be effected by fastening a wide towel about the middle of the body; even in the hottest night this will not be found oppressive: the same purpose will be answered by a folded blanket, which may be pulled up and down over the shoulders and feet when the night becomes chilly. A light mackintosh cape or poncho reaching to the knees is of great use for wearing about the camp, when a dry change of clothes has been put on after a day’s march.
[Sidenote: Furniture.]
Of beds none has yet been found better than the ordinary X-pattern, but as this is somewhat heavy to carry, it will probably have to be left behind when the mountains are reached. In countries where bulky loads can be carried, the ‘Wolseley’ valise is of the greatest value. One load carries a man’s bedding, spare boots, clothing and a variety of odds and ends, and the valise itself is used as a bed, which can be made tolerably comfortable by putting leaves and moss underneath it; if the flaps are sufficiently wide, the valise can also be used as a sort of makeshift tent. Blankets should be of large size (96 by 60 inches), and it will be found that two or three light blankets are better than a single heavy one; by sewing tapes at the edges of one of the blankets it can be converted into a sleeping-bag when required. Clothes should be carried, not haphazard with the blankets, but in thin cotton bags (about 30 by 20 inches): one of these bags, filled with soft clothes, may be used as a pillow; but the extra labour of carrying a well-made hair or feather pillow is more than balanced by the comfort it ensures. In mountain regions, where vegetation is luxuriant, a more comfortable bed can be made in this fashion: four Y-shaped pieces of wood are driven into the ground at intervals corresponding to the four corners of a bed; two short pieces of stiff wood are laid across the forks of the Y’s at the head and foot of the bed, and on them are laid long saplings from one end to another--these are easily secured in their place by rattans or other creepers or fibres, which are sure to be found growing in such places, or by string. On the top of the bedstead thus made leaves or grass may be laid, and on the top of this the bedding. In places where there is no vegetation, and where the Wolseley valise cannot be carried, the bedding must be laid on a thin waterproof sheet, which should measure not less than 96 by 60 inches. Such a waterproof sheet may be of use in other places also: it is not generally known that fleas have a strong dislike to india-rubber, and in places where these little creatures abound a complete immunity from them may be enjoyed by sleeping on a mackintosh sheet.
A camp-chair is a necessity which must be carried as far as circumstances will allow. The best is the ‘Rhoorkee’ chair, which accommodates itself to the most uneven ground, and can be taken to pieces and packed with the bedding; spare canvas should be taken for mending. A useful but less strong type is the X-pattern folding chair.
Washing Apparatus.--An aluminium basin with a canvas cover will hold all the necessary gear. Duplicates should be taken of everything, particularly sponges, which are very liable to be attacked and devoured by crickets. A pair of barber’s clippers is indispensable.
[Sidenote: Tents.]
Tents are among the most important part of the equipment, and at the same time they present the greatest difficulty. In an expedition to high mountains in the Tropics every variety of climate will be experienced, from the sweltering heat of the plains to the alpine cold of the heights, and it will not be possible to carry tents suitable to all these conditions. The only thing to do is to effect a compromise by taking tents which will not be unbearably hot in the low country, and which at the same time are not too heavy to be carried into the mountains. The first of these requirements is met by using a tent provided with an outer fly--an absolute essential in a hot country; the second is achieved by making the tent such that the fly and the tent itself can be used separately when transport is strictly limited. One condition is certain to be met with at all altitudes, and that is the frequent and abundant rainfall; this makes it imperative that both the outer fly and the roof of the tent should be made of rain-proof canvas. In the lower country it is advisable to aim at the ideal of one man one tent, as the close proximity of persons in a small, hot tent is likely to lead to friction of another kind. The smallest compatible with comfort for one man is a ‘Whymper’ pattern tent, 6½ by 6½ feet on the ground, and 6½ feet high at the ridge. A tent of this size may be occupied by two people in the mountains, but a tent of 7½ by 7½ feet would be preferable, though heavier. The inner tent is slung from the ridge pole by loops about 6 inches long; the outer fly is stretched over the ridge pole, and should project beyond the inner tent not less than 1 foot at each end and 2 feet at the sides. The outer fly and the roof of the tent should be made of some form of Willesden canvas capable of withstanding a heavy downpour of rain; to ensure lightness, the ends and side walls of the tent may be made of a lighter material, such as waterproof duck. Both ends should be made to open, and also to be laced up tightly in the event of heavy rain or strong wind or cold. Large pockets sewn on to the side walls, and a light cord stretched from end to end under the ridge, will be found useful. In heavily timbered countries a considerable amount of transport may be saved by discarding tent-poles and cutting wood for the purpose from the neighbouring jungle. If a belt of bamboos is met with, some of these may be cut and carried on from camp to camp. At the base or other long-occupied camp it will generally be found possible to build a house thatched with grass or leaves, which will be always cooler than a tent, as well as more commodious for the Europeans. One or more ‘Mummery’ tents for the Europeans may be taken for the final ascents of mountains. A great disadvantage of these tents, if made of some light waterproof material, is the excessive condensation that takes place inside them in places where the atmosphere is saturated with moisture.
Special attention must be devoted to the tents of the ‘boys’ and carriers, who, if they want less ‘head-room’ and less protection from the sun than their masters, require an equal amount of protection from the cold and rain. Their tents may be made without an outer fly, of the same material as above described, and it may be calculated that a tent of 10 by 6 feet with a height of 4½ feet is sufficient for six men. A light rope should be sewn firmly along the outside of the ridge, terminating at either end in a free loop, which can be attached to a tree or to a post driven into the ground. The roof may be made sloping to reach the ground; more room, with a little extra weight and cost, is provided by bringing the roof to within 1 foot of the ground and sewing to the edge of it a hanging wall or valence 1 foot wide. To accommodate a large number of men, a good plan is that practised by the Dutch army in the East Indies. Two upright poles are driven into the ground, and a horizontal pole tied from one to the other at a height of about 7 feet. Many poles 12 to 15 feet long are then laid about 1 foot apart, with one end on the ground and the other resting on the horizontal, to which they may be tied by rattan or cord; the angle at which these poles are laid should be as low as is consistent with the waterproofness of the roofing material, and they may be strengthened by tying horizontal poles across them at intervals of 2 to 3 feet. On the structure thus made, which resembles the framework of half the roof of a house, is laid a light Willesden canvas 10 feet wide, and of a length calculated according to the weight of the material and the average loads carried, and to the number of men to be accommodated. It is obvious that such a shelter, which gives plenty of room and has many advantages in a hot climate, can only be made in districts where timber is plentiful, and is not suited to cold weather, nor to places where strong winds are frequent.
It is advisable to provide each man with a waterproof ground sheet measuring 72 by 30 inches; an even better plan, which will cause much gratification and good-will, is to give to each man a waterproof canvas sack of the same dimensions, which he can use as a ground sheet or as a sleeping-bag, and at all times as a ‘hold-all’ for his clothes and personal belongings.
MANAGEMENT
[Sidenote: Loads and Packing.]
The conditions of transport vary so much in different places--in one place men carry loads on their heads, and in another on their backs: here they carry a 60-lb. load, there only 40 lb., and so on--that it is impossible to specify in detail here the size and shape of the loads, and only a few general principles can be suggested. After finding out the local conditions, it is important, so far as it is possible, to pack provisions in loads as they will be required, so that it will not be necessary to open one box for salt, another for meat, another for jam, and so on. By a careful calculation it will be possible to pack the boxes with all (or most of) the food required for a certain number of days. The ‘Vanesta’ case of three-ply wood (made by the Vanesta Company) is by far the lightest and strongest box for packing provisions and other gear. The boxes should be made of the size suited to the local conditions of porterage, and each one should be fully addressed on the lid, and a number attached with reference to a list of its contents; it is advisable also to put the numbers on the ends of the boxes, so that when they are all piled up on board ship or at the base camp or elsewhere, a sought-for box may be found with the minimum of trouble. When their contents have been used, these boxes should not be thrown away, but should be kept for the use of natural history specimens or other curious objects found during the course of the expedition.
All loads should be as nearly as possible of the same weight, but some will necessarily be heavier than others, and a few days’ experience of the men will suffice for their proper distribution. Much time will be saved at the beginning of the day if the same man always carries the same load. Double loads are to be avoided at all cost. Personal loads, i.e. bedding, tents, kitchen apparatus, and other things that may be wanted on the march or as soon as camp is reached, should be given to strong men who are not likely to dawdle behind the caravan. If it can be arranged, it is wise to have one or two spare or lightly loaded men to take up the burdens of any who fall out by sickness or any other accident.
[Sidenote: Trade Goods, Natives, etc.]
In Africa, where the manufactured products of civilization have penetrated even to the remotest districts, the question of trade goods is a constant worry. Every inquiry, therefore, must be made beforehand as to the kind of goods required in the district to be visited and in the regions to be passed through on the way. But fashions are constantly changing; on one side of a river you can get nothing without brass wire, and on the other glass beads are the only currency: if the people ask for small white beads nothing will induce them to take your large red ones; so it is necessary in those places to go provided with many different kinds of goods to suit the local tastes. Salt is in some places of the greatest value for barter, and in places where the people understand their use, fish-hooks are greatly appreciated. In unexplored regions, such as parts of New Guinea, where the natives have received nothing from the outside world, the question is simpler, and it is only necessary to take those things which the people are certain to appreciate, such as glass beads, red cloth (turkey twill) and straight knives. Even the most uncultured of “savages” are expert barterers, and it is advisable to establish a definite scale of payment--such as, for example, one bead for one sweet potato, a piece of cloth for a spear or club, and so on. They are quick to appreciate justice and honesty, and attempts on the part of the carriers of the expedition to defraud them must be checked. On first coming into contact with a new tribe it is necessary, without making a display of force, to be on the watch against a treacherous attack. Presents should be given to the head-men and (if they are seen) to the old women. It is well to learn and practise the native form of greeting, and to submit to any ceremony of blood-brotherhood or the like. If it is possible to learn the names of individuals and to so address them, it will always be appreciated as a compliment. Undue familiarity between the carriers of the expedition and the native women will inevitably lead to trouble, and should be severely punished. It is unwise to point at native people, and (in some cases) to laugh at them. Unless they are travelling with the expedition, natives should never be allowed to remain in the camp after nightfall. Medical treatment is one of the surest ways to win the affection and respect of the ‘savage,’ and castor oil or bandages will often make a way easier where words or rifles would be of no avail.
[Sidenote: Carriers, etc.]
The management of the carriers themselves is a matter which can be learnt by experience alone. Generally speaking, it may be said that a just and strict impartiality to all men is a foundation of their good services; men of all colours are quick to notice and to take advantage of the smallest sign of weakness or of favouritism on the part of their master. Cases of insubordination or other faults must be punished in some way; but, unfortunately, the use of the stick, which alone among certain races appeals to the delinquent (and is indeed expected by him), is forbidden by the constituted authority, and an infringement of the rule leads to trouble after returning to civilization: the appeal to the pocket by cutting off a part of the man’s wages is the most effectual punishment that remains. One of the most annoying troubles that the leader of an expedition has to contend with is malingering. This does not often present much difficulty to anyone with a knowledge of medicine, and others may often detect it by means of the clinical thermometer; the most appropriate punishment for it is the administration of a powerful purgative. Finally, it may be said that very little trouble will be experienced if the men have hard work, adequate food, tobacco, and days of rest at stated intervals.
[Sidenote: Camps, and Things in General.]
When a camp is made on the banks of a river, the tents of the Europeans should be pitched upstream of those of the men. A careful examination of the high-water mark should be made before the tents are pitched.
The cook-house should be made within a very short distance of the Europeans’ tents, as it rains more often than not at the time of the evening meal.
A good ‘boy’ is one who has a fire going to make tea while the camp is being pitched.
At a base camp latrines should be constructed, and at a temporary camp the men should be instructed to go to a certain definite distance.
Trenches to carry off water should be made round the tents, even if there seems to be no probability of rain.
In choosing a site for a camp, avoid as far as possible the proximity of a native village; and if strong winds are frequent, avoid the neighbourhood of large and decaying trees.
The leader of an expedition should often personally supervise the distribution of rations to the men; and, except in the case of very large expeditions, he should always supervise the apportionment of loads at the beginning of a journey.
Flies are often an intolerable nuisance in a camp; they may be driven out of the tent at dusk by putting a lamp outside and then shaking the roof of the tent, so that they are unable to settle: after a few minutes they will have settled elsewhere and the lamp may be brought inside.
The following is a list of articles which might be overlooked in preparing the equipment for an expedition: A spring balance for weighing loads; a steel measuring-tape; a cold chisel; wire for mending; assorted nails and screws; a housewife with needles and cottons, etc.; stencil and ink for marking boxes; a small electric torch; many bootlaces; spare watch-glasses; a flint and steel; pocket-books in which notes can be written in duplicate.
Finally, it may be appropriate to quote the advice given by a distinguished traveller, the late Mrs. Bishop: “Never take anything you can possibly do without.” To this we might add another counsel: Take everything you are likely to require, and leave things behind when they can no longer be carried.
FOOTNOTES:
[25] See also “Equipment,” p. 82.
XII. MOUNTAINEERING IN THE ARCTIC (SPITSBERGEN)
BY SIR W. MARTIN CONWAY
Since the expedition which I took to Spitsbergen in the years 1896 and 1897, I have not heard of any parties of mountaineers going to that country. Mountains were incidentally climbed by the Russian-Swedish surveyors, who went up there in several successive years to measure an arc of the Meridian. Indeed, they discovered and climbed the highest point in the main island, which Garwood and I had beheld afar off in 1897 but were unable to reach. Mountaineering, however, was merely an incident in the work of those parties. It has always seemed to me strange that English climbers have never followed our example in the Far North, and it is therefore with little hope of being very serviceable that I now accede to the request of the editor of this work to contribute a chapter on “Arctic Mountaineering,” and how to set to work about it. Truth to tell, my own memory of details has become feeble; but such as it is, it shall be placed at the reader’s service.
[Sidenote: Modes of Access.]
The first question, of course, is how to get to Spitsbergen, and having got there, how to get away from it; for though tourist steamers not infrequently visit the western coast of the main island, they stop so short a time as to be useless for even the briefest mountaineering expeditions. The climber who wishes to have the best of the season should arrive not earlier than the end of June, and start away at latest towards the end of August, when the sun has already begun to set.
Nowadays a good many industrial enterprises, such as mines and, I believe, quarries, are being prosecuted in Spitsbergen, so that there must really be plenty of opportunities of being carried thither from Tromsö and brought back again; but it is impossible to predict beforehand what they will be. Probably the easiest way would be to make arrangements with the owner of one of the Tromsö or Hammerfest fishing sloops to convey the party up to its selected base and call for it again on a day fixed in advance. The price that should be charged for such accommodation ought to be moderate; but my experience of the North Norwegians was that they are liable to open their mouths pretty wide when they think they have a traveller in their power. In any case, such arrangements are best made by an agent long in advance and with all legal exactitude.
[Sidenote: Equipment and Outfit.]
The equipment necessary for Spitsbergen mountaineering need not be very elaborate. The temperatures to be faced will not exceed those of an ordinary English winter, and clothes will therefore not require to be of the Arctic character we associate with Polar expeditions. But a man does need to be really warmly clad with plenty of thick underclothing and thoroughly strong garments. For when the wind blows and the snow drives on the higher levels it is cold enough even at Midsummer, though on rare occasions in still air the warmth of the sun may be felt to a quite surprising degree. Near the sea-level and on the moraines and rocks the strongest mountaineering boots are none too strong. I doubt whether the ski-ing boots commonly worn for winter sport would adapt themselves for use in such places. Once the upper levels of the glaciers have been gained, which generally involves two or three days’ work with sledges from sea-level, travelling becomes easier and more agreeable, and is done almost entirely on ski. Sledges, ski, warm sleeping-bags, goat-hair stockings and warm clothing generally can be bought very well at Bergen or Trondhjem on the way out; but it would be well, as far as the sledges are concerned, to write beforehand and make sure that they would be available. British consuls at those places or the Norwegian Consul-General in London would doubtless inform inquirers as to the names of the best shops to deal with. Reindeer sleeping-bags are delightfully comfortable and warm, but they are distinctly heavy and bulky. Good eiderdown sleeping-bags with a rug or two would, I think, be quite warm enough till the 20th of August at any rate. The best tents to take are relatively large tents of the ‘Mummery’ type, made of strong Willesden canvas with rubber sheeting floor sewn in. It is absolutely essential that the floor should be sewn in, otherwise the tent could be easily blown away in a gale. I do not remember the exact arrangements of the tents of this kind made for me by Edgington’s. The floor space was probably about 6 feet or 6 feet 6 inches by 4 feet. The height may be judged by the fact that for poles we used ice-axes, with extra pieces about 18 inches long to fit over the points with a socket to lengthen them. Three or even four people might be crowded into such a tent, but no one would wish to share such a tent with more than one companion on a pleasure journey of a few weeks’ duration. The remainder of the kit would consist of cooking apparatus and supplies, to wit, a primus stove, some aluminium plates and pans, aluminium spoons and forks; and for provisions the usual tinned goods, concentrated soups and pots of jam, and a sufficient quantity of highly nutritious biscuits to take the place of bread. Far the best biscuits for this purpose we found were named ‘Triticumina,’ which contained plasmon; but the biscuits which have currants sandwiched into them form a very welcome change.
A liberal supply of brown sugar in tins should on no account be forgotten, though jam is almost as good. If the party contemplate spending their time in one district of the island, they will probably make for themselves a heavy and comfortable base camp, which may be as well stored as they please, as it will, of course, be situated close to the shore of some bay or harbour, and everything belonging to it will be landed direct from the boat, so that the question of porterage will not arise. This base camp ought to be equipped with a rowing boat of the type called a whale boat, such as can be readily hired from any North Norwegian port. It would be well to have one or two able-bodied Norwegian sailors to man the boat and help drag the sledges, and no difficulty would be experienced in finding in or about the Lofoten Islands suitable men, skilful also in going on ski. Our experience was that young unmarried men were to be preferred. The others got home-sick.
[Sidenote: Plans of Campaign.]
A mountaineering expedition to Spitsbergen might lay out its plans on many different lines, but, broadly speaking, there are two main choices between which to select. In one, the mountains of the coast region accessible directly in one day, or at most in two days, from the sea would be the principal object of attention. In the other, the high interior regions of inland ice remote from the shore, and the mountains rising out of them, would be the goal. There is much to be said for either plan. The former would be the less laborious and the more comfortable; the latter harder work, more adventurous, and opening up a stranger and more wonderful world. There is also a third region, that of the unglaciated, boggy valleys around Advent Bay and Bell Sound; but this, after a season’s experience, I cannot honestly recommend as pleasant travelling country.
[Sidenote: From the Coast.]
Let us then take the other two alternatives one by one. Climbers who would hug the coast may go up with a fairly large party prepared to subdivide on arrival, and pitch base camps in different bays if so they please. But a large party is, of course, not essential, and a couple of good friends, with one or two Norwegian sailors at their disposal, would have a very good time on shore or afloat in their whale boat. Having chosen a well-protected landing-place with a shelving beach up which to haul their boat, and having pitched their tents well out of reach of the highest tides and storms, they could either climb the mountains close at hand, or they could row off or sail away in their boat to any others accessible from their fjord, taking with them a light camp and provisions only for two or three days. Or, again, they can make short trips of one or two days’ duration merely into the interior, not cumbering themselves with a sledge, but carrying on their backs a very light camping equipment of a kind brought to much perfection by the Amateur Camping Club. On this system the same base camp need not be adhered to for the whole season, but in suitable weather it could be moved, by help of the whale boat, even from one of the western fiords to another.
The great question which naturally arises is what sites by the seashore are best suited for climbing centres. Broadly speaking, the north half and the south toe of the main island alone come into consideration, for the east islands are not practically accessible, nor would it often be wise to make a sea-base at all far to the eastward on the north coast. Practically, therefore, we may take the coast-line round from Wijde Bay westward and then southward down the coast to King’s Bay, then all along either coast to Foreland Sound to the mouth of Ice Sound, whilst at the south end of the island only Horn Sound need be considered.
Coming now to detail, in the high summer of a very open season, when the ice-pack has withdrawn to somewhere in the neighbourhood of 80° 30“, it might be safe to make a base camp for a week or two in Wijde Bay itself, preferably on its eastern shore, from which the high peaks of 7000 feet and thereabouts, which range down the west side of New Friesland, can be climbed in a two-day expedition. These peaks are very indifferently explored; only the highest of them has ever been climbed; they stand in the midst of a region of extraordinary interest, and must command wonderful views to the eastward over the little-known north-east land and away off to the romantic Wyches Islands. Probably there is no district in the whole Archipelago which would so well reward the season’s work; whilst if the ice-pack were to come down and seal the mouth of Wijde Bay, retreat is always open overland to Cape Thordsen in Ice Sound by one or other of two obvious routes.
A less heroic base could be found at a dozen points near the north-east angle of the island, and this is probably the best and most practical region to choose; for here it would be possible to shift the base camp every few days, whilst there are any number of mountains rising from the coast built of the hard primary rocks and apparently offering delectable scrambles. The main bay, called Mauritius Bay by the Dutch in the old days, and in particular the south-east corner, would probably be the best place to begin. The labyrinth of glaciers that empty into Redcliff Sound must be well worth a visit, and the same is true of the peaks and glaciers of Magdalena Bay. The fact that the whole of this region has been admirably mapped by the Prince of Monaco is a further advantage for the prospective climber. Between Magdalena Bay and Close Cove (now wrongly called Cross Bay) there is no place for a base camp; but Close Cove, King’s Bay, Cove Comfortless and the north part of Prince Charles’s Foreland form together an enclosed area containing innumerable excellent coast-line bases. Probably one of the narrow bays at the head of Close Cove would provide an attractive situation, besides giving access to an intimately glaciated and beridged interior. But the south-east extremity of King’s Bay, as we found, is a delightful situation, and from it the Three Crowns and countless other peaks can be reached. Prince Charles’s Foreland has been excellently mapped by Dr. Bruce, and seems to have some good climbing peaks, most of which, and all of those along the opposite side of Foreland Sound, await their first experience of a human foot. It must be admitted that the region nearest the west coast suffers from the worst weather, for it continually happens that the clouds lie low, whilst above the level of 1000 or 1200 feet there is brilliant sunshine for days and perhaps weeks together, and of course no night at all. From Horn Sound in the south some splendid peaks are accessible, only one of which has ever been climbed. This is perhaps the best place for a week or two at the close of the season, though it might be rather difficult to get there in an open boat from the northern parts. The hospitality of some passing steamer, however, might be available for such transfer.
[Sidenote: Into the Interior.]
Far more interesting and delightful, however, than merely climbing peaks from a sea-base is a bold venture into the far interior. Indeed, a climber standing on the summit of any peak and looking inland over the vast glaciers and at the countless ranges and beautiful mountains spread abroad before him on a clear day will, I think, be irresistibly drawn into that white labyrinth. Of course the most delightful experience is a traverse of some part of the island from sea to sea. This requires a good deal of organization, because it is necessary to have a boat to meet the party arriving from the other side at some point arranged in advance. From Magdalena Bay to Cross Bay the traverse has been made, and leads through splendid scenery. More interesting, because new, would be the traverse from Wood Bay to King’s Bay, or from King’s Bay along the King’s Highway and down to North Fjord; or again, from the head of Sassen Bay over to the east coast and back. It would scarcely be possible to have a boat prepared to meet a party on the east coast, so that either from Ice Sound or Bell Sound journeys to the east coast must be made to and fro by the same route. In the nature of things little general advice can be given for such expeditions; each must be organized according to its own special circumstances. It is obvious, in any case, a large margin would have to be provided for the unexpected. A sledge may break down, or delays may be caused in a thousand ways, so that a considerable reserve stock of provisions must be taken. The first day from the coast, sometimes the first two days, will be very laborious. A sledge and its load will have to be carried by repeated journeys over rough ground and generally over broad moraines before the camp can be pitched at the edge of the clear ice. Then, generally speaking, there will be a crevassed region to traverse, where progress must be slow; but after two or three days at the outside easier conditions will be met with. Soon, however, the snow-covered belt of the glacier will be reached, and as at this time of year a slight but continuous thaw is proceeding, it necessarily follows that, where there are no crevasses to drain off the water, there will be a wild belt covered with water-logged snow and intersected by wide and rushing streams which it is often very difficult to cross. The water-logged snow is merely unpleasant and laborious, as the ski and the sledge will sink into it, and every hollow thus made is instantly filled with ice-cold water. The only way to deal with the big streams is to follow up alongside of them till they divide into smaller brooks which can be crossed in detail. Yet higher up, however, the thaw is left behind and a splendid hard surface is found, over which ski-ing and sledging are a pleasant pastime, and longer distances can be covered in a day’s march. Out of this higher region peaks, of no great absolute height indeed, but of fine form, arise in all directions, and from a suitably chosen high camp it will be possible in a few days to make many ascents, either of summits in the ranges bordering one’s own glacier on either hand, or in other ranges behind them which can be readily reached over undulating passes.
[Sidenote: Exceptional and Beautiful Phenomena.]
A traveller who has made one such expedition into the interior of Spitsbergen will have become acquainted with glacier phenomena such as no ordinary alpine region can display. The pools and ice caverns of Arctic glaciers, the strange blue river-tunnels through the ice, the burst lakes scattering huge ice-blocks afar, the curious sheaves of crystalline ice-rods, the rivers of water stained crimson by disintegrating dolomite rock and flowing over the white ice-like veins of jasper in marble, the frozen heaps of ice, in shape like volcanoes, which rise where springs force themselves out of the ground--these and many other strange and beautiful sights await the student of glaciers in the Arctic regions. Moreover, the glaciers themselves have quite a different look from alpine glaciers. They appear to be far more viscous, as in fact they are, so that if they end on a piece of flat ground and do not reach the sea, the end spreads out into a great round mass, as a stream of honey might if it emerged from some narrow gap on to a flat area. But where a glacier reaches the sea, and especially a great glacier perhaps seven miles in width, it has to terminate, of course, in a splendid cliff, and this cliff is, as it were, made of towering séracs, blue in the hollows and white on the crown, in height perhaps 100 feet above the water-level, and these séracs are continually falling into the sea and breaking up into little icebergs, causing a great commotion in the waters as they plunge in their fall and jostle against one another till they come to rest.
Nor must I forget to mention another of the great glories of this mountain region, to wit, the long sunset. Towards the middle of August the sun, in the hours corresponding to midnight, approaches close to the horizon, and presently actually dips beneath it. It follows that a sunset colouring, paler and more delicate but not less beautiful than that we know in the Alps, illumines the sky, the clouds, the mountains and the glaciers at this time, and that not merely for a few minutes but for four or five hours on end, according to the atmospheric conditions. I know of nothing more wonderful than to climb a mountain which commands a wide view over the flat, fog-covered ocean and the clear, snow-covered interior when the whole of this enormous expanse shines pink in the lights and blue in the shadows, and the effect lasts on for four or five hours spent amid such surroundings.
[Sidenote: Summary, Cost, etc.]
But it is not my business to describe the beauties of Arctic scenery in this place, but only to indicate as best I may how the intending mountain traveller in those regions may set to work. Conditions, of course, of accessibility and the like change from year to year, especially nowadays when Spitsbergen has become the scene of industrial undertakings; it will be necessary for any intending traveller to make inquiries well ahead as to the circumstances attending his own case. I feel convinced, however, that an enterprising party of three or four climbers could spend a season in Spitsbergen and have an excellent time at not more than twice the cost of a corresponding season in the Alps, and possibly for a good deal less. Ingenuity, adaptability and enterprise will be essential. After all, for what kind of travel that is worth while are they not?
Note.--The foregoing was written before the war. Recent commercial developments have made Spitsbergen much more easy of access.
XIII. THE CAUCASUS
BY HAROLD RAEBURN
The Caucasus of the mountaineer is that more or less continuous chain of great glaciated peaks which extends for nearly 600 miles between the Caspian and Black Seas.
[Sidenote: General Topography and Structure.]
Geographically, the water-parting of the ridge forms the boundary between Europe and Asia.
Politically speaking the mountains run, with a general south-east to north-west direction, through almost the centre of the Russian province of the Caucasus, dividing it into the two districts of Cis-Caucasia, with the chief city of Vladikavkaz, and Trans-Caucasia, with Tiflis as the centre of government. Situated in about the same latitude as the Pyrenees, with a more continental climate, the ranges of temperature are much greater than in the Alps.
In such an extensive tract of elevated country great variation of conditions must naturally occur. Speaking generally, and with more special reference to the central group of summits, the glaciation is somewhat less than in the Alps in proportion to the elevation, about 2000 feet greater than that of the central Pennines. The average level to which the glaciers descend is rather higher. As the average slope of the mountains is more abrupt, the glaciers are steeper. In consequence, the Caucasian glaciers are as a rule more difficult and broken, and the ice-falls more continuous.
The prevailing wind is warm and moisture-laden, blowing from the south-west, off the almost sub-tropical shores of the Black Sea; condensed by the cold peaks, the moisture is thereon deposited in the form of snow. Thus, in spite of its northern aspect, the glaciation of the European slope is little greater than that of the southern.
The height at which trees cease is very much the same on both sides (7000-8000 feet). A feature of the country is the great forests which cover the upper basins of many valleys, particularly on the south side.
In many of the southern valleys these forests are composed of deciduous trees of various species, such as birch, beech, oak, maple and chestnut, giving a variety and charm which the more sombre pine forests of the north do not provide. Some of the northern valleys are destitute of timber, and the fuel difficulty is one which confronts the climbing explorer.
The whole mountain system may for present purposes be divided into three principal groups.
1. All the peaks south and east of the line of the Dariel, more correctly the Krestovaya Gora, Pass; in which though many peaks exist as high as the Oberland Mountains, yet the glaciation is not continuous for long distances.
2. The great central group. This is the most important and best known. It extends from Kasbek, immediately west of the above pass, to the Klukhor Pass, west of Elbrus, a distance of about 130 miles.
In the whole of this distance there is only one driving road, that of the Mamison Pass (9280 feet), the highest road in Europe. All other routes across the range, except one or two grass passes, must be made over glacier passes, the lowest about 10,500 feet above sea-level.
3. West and north of the Klukhor Pass lies a tangled group of somewhat lower glaciated summits, some of which are still unascended.
[Sidenote: Records and Literature.]
If we pass over the ancient traditions and tales of the Arabians, Greeks and Jews, mountaineering in the Caucasus is of very modern growth.
The Arabian Kaf, the Jewish Ararat and the great mountain celebrated by Æschylus as the prison of Prometheus, are all situated in or near the Caucasus range; whether it be true or not that the Tower of Babel was built not far from the borders, this mountain land remains a Tower of Babel to this day.
In the city of Baku there are even now said to be one hundred different languages and dialects spoken. The Caucasus Mountains themselves give homes to as many tribes and dialects as there are rivers.
These tribes were almost always more or less at enmity amongst themselves. This lack of nationality rendered the task of absorption by Russia an easy one. It should not be forgotten that a good part of the Caucasus proper was not conquered by Russia. The nominal sovereignty possessed by the kings of Georgia over many of the mountain tribes only began to be made real when the last king placed himself under Russian protection.
This great diversity of peoples, languages, religions and customs renders travel in the Caucasus, if more interesting, much more difficult. Most of the people know nothing of Russian, and it is therefore necessary for a climbing party to have an interpreter with them who has knowledge of as many of the different languages as possible. Apart from the fabulous, the earliest effort of mountaineering in the Caucasus appears to have been an attempt to ascend Elbrus by a party of four savants, attached to the politico-geographical expedition of General Emanuel, in 1829.
The first writer to draw attention to the Caucasus as a field for mountain exploration was the Rev. H. B. George, in a paper read before the Alpine Club on 2 May 1865. The pioneer expedition was that of Messrs. Freshfield, Moore and Tucker, with François Devouassoud, in 1868. Mr. Grove’s party followed, in 1874, and his book, The Frosty Caucasus, is now a valuable alpine classic. During the ’80’s British mountaineers, with Swiss guides, conquered the majority of the highest peaks. Mr. Cockin was the most successful: three of the greatest peaks fell to him and his guides in one season. Messrs. Dent, Woolley and Holder were also very successful.
My Climbs in the Alps and Caucasus, by Mr. A. F. Mummery, describes his expedition in 1888, when the great peak of Dykh-Tau was ascended.
In the ’90’s a number of British guideless parties went out, but from various causes had little success.
Since then, in spite of three splendidly illustrated volumes, The Exploration of the Caucasus, by Freshfield and Sella, in 1896, Aus den Hochregionen des Kaukasus, by Merzbacher, in 1901, and Kaukasus Reisen und Forschungen, by de Déchy, in 1904, British interest in the district has been slight. Messrs. Longstaff and Rolleston had, however, a very successful guideless campaign in Suanetia, in 1903.
A Russian author, Afanasief, published in German, in 1913, a very useful little compendium of the ascents made up to date, 100 Kaukasus Gipfel.
As a proof that the Caucasus as a new mountaineering centre is still very far from being exhausted, British expeditions in 1913 and 1914 succeeded in effecting the ascents of ten new summits, none of which was below 13,500 feet in height.
[Sidenote: Routes of Access.]
The easiest, cheapest and quickest way to the central group from London is that to the north side, overland. The route is via Berlin, Warsaw and Rostoff on the Don. Thence either by the Baku train to Beslan, for Vladikavkaz, or by the Russian Spas express to Mineralnia Vodé, for Piatigorsk. An even better starting-point for the mountains is Naltshik, to which a branch railway, opened in July 1912, should run in two hours from the junction on the main Rostoff-Baku line of Kotliarefskaia.
The south side may be reached by driving from Vladikavkaz or from Darkop on the main line over the Mamison Pass.
Another excellent way of reaching the south side of the range from the north side would be by taking the motor service (office in the annex of the Grand Hotel) from Vladikavkaz over the Dariel--correctly the Krestovaya Gora--Pass to Tiflis, and round by the Tiflis-Batum railway. The motor line passes close under the huge mass of Kasbek (16,546 feet), and its glaciers can be reached in a few hours from Vladikavkaz. The old route to the south side of the range followed by most of the earlier English parties is that by Vienna and Odessa, thence by steamer, in from two to four days, across the Black Sea--calling at Sevastopol--to Batum. From Batum a short branch-line connects with Kutais. From here the Mamison road leads up to Oni on the Upper Rion, and can be utilized for driving for part or the whole of the distance, according to which valley or group of peaks it is desired to visit.
For the most westerly group, that lying west of Elbrus, the port of Sukhum Kalé on the Black Sea will probably be found most convenient. For the extreme eastern groups Tiflis will prove the best starting-point.
[Sidenote: Modes of Travel.]
The usual, and the best mode of travel in the mountains is on foot. All the railhead towns mentioned are more than a day’s march distant from the hills. Kasbek alone is closely approached by a motorable road.
At the towns elected for approach--Tiflis, Kutais, Vladikavkaz, Piatigorsk or Naltshik--it is necessary to engage vehicles or horses, and a cook-interpreter. Whether it is advisable to buy horses for the whole journey depends upon whether much travelling, and in consequence little climbing, is to be done. The purchase of horses sets the party free from the endless haggling, delay and annoyance which seem inseparable from hiring. On the other hand, the purchase necessitates engaging at least one man for every two horses, and this adds greatly to the expense and to the commissariat difficulties.
Though considerably improved of late years, the various roads up Caucasian valleys, where they exist at all, are not of the best. A Russian road on the steppe is not a road in the usual sense of the word; it is merely a part of the ground over which one drives, and is not made in any way except by the wheels of passing traffic. The road of the Mamison Pass is a built road; but it is exceedingly rough in places, and is frequently interrupted by landslides, tree-falls and avalanches.
The most comfortable vehicle to obtain is the troika or phaeton, a light, low carriage something like the alpine char. A rougher and more usual carriage is the lineika, seated like a low-set Irish jaunting-car on four wheels. It is wonderfully elastic, its light, loose method of construction allowing it to adapt itself to the potholes, boulders and tree-trunks of the rougher parts of the road. Most of these vehicles will be found to suffer from the general debility consequent upon extreme old age. It is advisable to have each one carefully inspected before the start.
In the more out-of-the-way parts, where such luxurious modes of travel cannot be indulged in, an arba can often be obtained. This is a light, springless two-wheeled cart. It is often drawn by a pair of small but strong oxen, and though the pace is very slow, a large quantity of baggage can be conveyed in one.
The horses--almost invariably mares--are small, light animals showing evident trace of Arab blood. They are docile, free from vice, and marvellously sure-footed. Indeed, in this last respect they far surpass an average mule. Some of the ‘horse passes’ on the south side of the range would be considered by most people impossible for horses and more fitted for goats.
The saddles are Turkish, i.e. with a high pommel in front and behind. Some travellers have recommended taking out an English saddle. Few riders, however, would be able to retain their seat on an English saddle while their mounts were scrambling down or up the precipitous broken bank of some ravine or bed of a glacier stream.
[Sidenote: Centres.]
As in the Alps, so in the Caucasus, more climbing will be got by settling at a centre than by travelling about from one place to another. On this method the necessity of carrying heavy tents, large supplies of stores, etc., is avoided. A couple of light tents, to accommodate two or three men each, are all that is necessary.
Good centres for the various districts are, on the north side, Urusbieh, Chegem, Balkar, Bezingi, Stirdigor and Dsinago; in the Tsaya valley, the sanatorium kept by M. Sanghiev in the pine forest near Rekom; the inn at Saramag on the Upper Ardon; the Russian road-houses of Kalaki on the north and Tshantshakhi on the south side of the Mamison Pass; Gebi on the West Rion River; Ushkul on the headwaters of the Ingur; Mestia or Mulakh on the Mulkhora; and Betsho just below the giant precipices of Ushba. To Gebi and Tshantshakhi Kasarma on the south, and to most places on the European side of the range, driving should be possible nowadays.
[Sidenote: Equipment and Commissariat.]
Mountaineering in the Caucasus is still very much on exploring lines. Save in the case of Kasbek or, in a minor degree, of Elbrus, no huts, guides or organization for climbing exists. The success of an expedition must therefore largely depend upon the care and forethought bestowed upon the equipment and organization of the party before it leaves railhead.
The climbing equipment should be exactly similar to that of the Alps; but as anything lost cannot be replaced, everything must be at least in duplicate. Indeed, it is advisable to take out three pairs of climbing boots--the odd pair for the purpose of lending to porters if it is found necessary to take them over a glacier, since it is not fair or safe to take heavily loaded men with ‘gloved’ feet up steep and slippery ice and snow. Two ice-axes are essential: one may easily get broken, lost or stolen. Tents, of any of the lighter English makes, are best taken out. Eastern bags, with padlock and key, are the most convenient method of carrying spare clothes. Among these, two or three complete changes of underclothing--of course all wool--are necessary. Plenty of spare flannel collars and abundance of stockings, and, of course, undersocks, are well worth their slight extra weight. Crampons are almost a necessity, though cumbrous and annoying to carry. It is advisable to have a tin case for these. They are of immense service in levelling up the good and the inferior icemen of a party, and in conserving the energies of the step-cutter, or step-cutters, for really difficult work on rocks or ice slopes higher up.
With two pairs of new--but broken-in--modern mountaineering boots it ought to be quite unnecessary to take out nails, iron boot anvil or hammer for a two months’ campaign.
The general stores--cooking utensils, plates or bowls, cups (mugs are preferable), table cutlery, travelling stoves (primus and alpine), candles, etc.--are best obtained in the country. The most convenient packages are strong baskets. These should be made at home, and covered with strong waterproof material. Size 25 inches by 15 inches by 11 inches is convenient for horse carriage, and should be furnished with a strong lock. They can also serve as seats in or outside the tents.
The personal equipment should include a roll-up mattress--hair is the best--6 feet 6 inches by 2 feet 4 inches, a down quilt or sleeping-bag and a small pillow. If the tent has a ground sheet, a waterproof cover for the mattress is not required. To save trouble and expense on the journey and at the Customs, it is much the best plan to bring as little as possible into the country in the way of consumable stores. Jam is perhaps the one exception. For high work jam is of great importance, and the little ¼-lb. tins to be obtained in London are extremely convenient. A few soups--powder or tabloid--are also useful for emergencies. Excellent shops are to be found at all the chief railhead towns, such as Tiflis, Vladikavkaz, Piatigorsk and Naltshik; also at Kutais and Oni on the Mamison road. In them almost everything obtainable in western Europe may be got.
Many different kinds of tinned meats, fruits and fish are to be had, but the party would do well to have as little to do with these as possible, except perhaps a few boxes of sardines. In the country, mutton, fowls and eggs are always to be obtained, and these are safer and more palatable than the tinned foods, which should be kept for emergencies and given away at the end of the trip. The great weakness of the Caucasian commissariat is in the all-important item of bread. Away from the towns this is invariably very bad. It is made of maize or wheat flour mixed with rye, or of rye alone; no yeast or baking powder is used, and it is never properly cooked. Naturally it is exceedingly trying to a western stomach. When forced to use it, one should have it well toasted. Very good bread can be bought in the towns, and as large a supply of this as possible should be taken. There is also an excellent form of bread to be got in some of the small dukhans or shops up country. It is in hard glazed small rings, and is threaded on strings and hung up like onions to the roof. It keeps well, and is quite palatable and digestible. One way of overcoming the bread difficulty would be to engage a cook-interpreter, who could bake, and to carry flour and a small portable oven with the party.
[Sidenote: Organization.]
Interpreter-couriers are to be found at Tiflis and Vladikavkaz. These, however, would not care to attach themselves to a climbing party, or, in fact, to leave the roads at all; walking for even a few miles is not in their line. There are guides and tariffs--fairly reasonable--for both Kasbek and Elbrus. Good material undoubtedly exists for the development of a school of real mountain guides, but their time is not yet. A climbing party must bring its own guides, or, better still, have some one in the party who, by previous experience or knowledge of guideless climbing in the Alps, is qualified to act as guide and leader on high ascents.
After bread and horses, porters are the principal worry for the leader of a party in the Caucasus. The mountain tribes are independent and ‘huffy,’ and great tact and patience are needed in dealing with these semi-civilized children of nature. The men are not, like the Swiss, accustomed to carry heavy burdens, and are quite ready to throw up their job and throw down their loads at or without a moment’s notice.
The cook is a very important member of the party. He stands for creature comforts, and the party is fortunate which succeeds in engaging a capable man at the town from which the expedition starts. It is very necessary for all purposes that one at least of the party should know some Russian. The cook-interpreter, if only one man is engaged, must speak, besides Russian, at least one western European language, and he must have a good knowledge of as many of the Caucasian languages as possible.
[Sidenote: Maps.]
The general map of the country is that known as the 5-verst map, which is to be obtained in Tiflis or from the principal London map-sellers. It is on the scale of 5 versts = 3½ miles = 1 in 210,000, to the inch. This, though quite accurate as far as the low country is concerned, is of little use in the mountains. The best known map is that issued with Messrs. Freshfield & Sellas’s The Exploration of the Caucasus (Edward Arnold, London, 1896). It is on the 5-verst scale, and is a useful general map, though the scale is too small to show the mountains properly.
Herr Merzbacher issued with his weighty work, Aus den Hochregionen des Kaukasus (Leipzig, 1901), a very convenient map on the scale of 3⅓ versts = 1 in 140,000. This map is to be obtained from the publishers. It endeavours to give more names, heights and details of mountains than Mr. Freshfield’s; but this, in some cases, has led to a multiplication of errors. Mountains have been inserted which explorers of the locality have failed to find, and in the south-eastern portion of the central group the nomenclature and heights given are often very misleading. By far the most useful map, and the map which is practically indispensable for the mountain explorer who is not prepared to make his own, is the Russian 1-verst map. This is on a large scale (1/42000). It gives with very considerable accuracy the forms of such glaciers and mountains as are visible from positions reasonably accessible to the surveyors. It seldom commits itself by giving any names at all to the peaks, except to the principal ones--although the more important glaciers are generally named. The printing of the names and figures--of course in Russian characters--is often exceedingly bad. The maps are on the hâchure system. With the exception of the sheet covering Kasbek, which is on sale at Vladikavkaz, they can only be obtained through the military authorities in Tiflis.
[Sidenote: Expense.]
This will, of course, greatly depend upon the style in which the expedition is conducted. If a courier-interpreter is engaged, and Swiss guides are brought, the expense must be expected to be considerable. In spite of the general rise in the cost of living and in the price of labour, which of late years has increased in the Caucasus--between 50 and a 100 per cent--an eight or nine weeks’ journey out from London and back can be done comfortably at a cost not exceeding £100 for each member of a party of four, five or six. Below are given a few prices, based on the experience of the expeditions made in the years 1904, 1911 and 1913. They are, of course, only approximate. Foodstuffs will be found not to vary so much in cost as the hire of horses and porters.
1904. 1911. 1913. Horse, per day 1-3 R. 1½-2 R. 3-4 R. Porter, per day -- 1 R. 1½-4 R. Sheep (small) 4-6 R. -- 3-5 R. Hens (small) 20-40 K. -- 35-50 K. Eggs (small) 1-2 K. -- 1½-2 K. Bread (about 2 lb.) 8 K. -- 10 K. Cheese 15 K. -- 10-20 K. Wine (Kakhetinskoe), litre -- -- 1 R. Beer -- -- 15-20 K Sucking-pig (very small) 2-3 R. -- 2 R.
Rouble = 2s. 1½d. Kopeck = ¼d.
Note.--All prices given are pre-war.
XIV. THE MOUNTAINS OF CORSICA
BY GEORGE FINCH
[Sidenote: Season.]
The best time of the year for climbing in Corsica is the spring. The weather is fine during the months of April, May, June and July; but in the latter half of June and in July the midday heat is often oppressive. This is seldom the case in April or May. During these two months the melting snows ensure a supply of water, which is often deficient in the hot summer months. In April, also, the snowline is still very low; from the mountaineer’s point of view this is an advantage, as the approach to the climbs often lies over long slopes covered with dense undergrowth, known as ‘maquis,’ and most troublesome for walking when not snow-covered. As early as towards the end of March the steeper rocks are already sufficiently free from snow for climbing, while the snow on the gentler slopes remains to facilitate the crossing of the ‘maquis.’
Another point in favour of an early season is the greater clearness of the atmosphere. In March and April of 1909 from every summit we had a clear view of the Apennines and of the Maritime Alps even late in the day. In the summer months mists rising from the Mediterranean partially obscure the view shortly after sunrise.
[Sidenote: Equipment.]
A light tent and sleeping-bags should be taken, as the nights are often cold. A primus oil-stove (petroleum used to be obtained almost anywhere, but methylated spirits were difficult to procure), and tinned milk, meats, vegetables, fruit and jam must all be imported, as they are not procurable in Corsica. Such provisions are dutiable, but my personal experience has been that the Customs are indulgent if informed of the mountaineering object.
For porterage, mules can be procured. One mule will carry 250 lb., and costs, together with the services of the mule-driver, according to the locality, from four to eight francs a day.
Both driver and mule entertain a dislike to snow, and will shy at the prospect of crossing even the most diminutive snow-patches. Otherwise they will go almost anywhere. I have covered as much as 38 miles of road, scrub and mountain-track in a day with one mule carrying rather over 200 lb.
The character of the usual hotel accommodation in the interior will be found to bias the climber in favour of camping out. He can thus also move at once nearer to the base of his climbs. Wood for fires is plentiful, and many streams provide trout-fishing (three to the pound).[26]
The two most important mountain groups are those of the Rotondo and the Cinto.
[Sidenote: Centres, Modes of Access, and Topography.]
The garrison town of Corte will act as a centre to both these districts. It is reached by a four hours’ rail journey from either Bastia or Ajaccio.
A steamship service connects Bastia with Leghorn three times a week (five hours’ crossing). Fairly frequent services likewise connect Ajaccio with Nice (twelve hours) and with Marseilles (sixteen hours). The approach to Corsica by all three routes is magnificent, especially that of Nice to Ajaccio. It is well worth while to make this crossing by a day service.
From Corte a good camping centre at the head of the Restonica valley, in the heart of the Rotondo group, can be reached in four hours (mule-track most of the way).
The true centre of the Cinto group is Calacuccia. This village can be reached from Corte in six hours, walking over the Col de la Rinella; but there is no mule-track. The view from this Col embraces practically the whole Cinto group. An alternative route, advisable when it is necessary to transport baggage, is from Corte to Francardo (half an hour’s rail), and thence in three hours by carriage (postal service, or hired conveyance, 15 francs) to Calacuccia. Convenient camping centres in the Rodda, Erco, Viro and Golo valleys can thence be reached in from three to five hours.
For the northern slopes of the Cinto group Asco is the best centre (three hours by road from the railway station, Ponte Leggia). This village also serves as a base for the magnificent chain of mountains running eastwards from Monte Padro (2400 metres) to Monte Corona (2143 metres), and thence in a southerly direction to Punta Minuta (2547 metres) in the Cinto group. To the north of Monte Padro lies the Tartagine valley, at the head of which is the Capo al Dente (2032 metres), one of the most sporting peaks in the island. A number of unclimbed peaks close in the valley to the north. The approach to the Tartagine valley is rather troublesome. From Palasca (on the Bastia-Calvi railway line) via Mausoléo to the maison forestière, the best centre, takes eight to ten hours by a good road.
Other groups offering good climbing and an abundance of ‘first ascents’ and ‘new routes’ are the Monte d’Oro and Monte Renoso groups. Vizzavona, the centre for both these ranges, boasts of good hotel accommodation, and can be reached in three hours by rail from Ajaccio and in one hour from Corte.
The above-mentioned mountain groups are those which will attract the climber most of all. They offer almost endless possibilities for first-rate climbing over both known and virgin ground. With the exception of Monte Renosa, the main mountain groups lie to the east of the Ajaccio-Bastia railway, and for this reason most climbers prefer to approach the mountains from the east, from Corte, the half-way station on the line. There is, however, little to choose between the eastern and western slopes--both offer high-class climbing, and preference might now well be given to the western slopes, as here much more remains to be accomplished in the way of pioneer work. As a general rule, camp centres for climbing on the western slopes of the d’Oro, Rotondo, Cinto and Corona groups are best reached by crossing the main chains from Corte. In these cases the mountaineer will have to act as his own beast of burden unless the route be entirely free from snow, which is very unlikely in the spring.
There are a great number of mountain groups either of minor importance or difficult of access (the Incudine, 2136 metres; Punta di Capella, 2044; etc.), but as a rule from the climbing point of view they are of little interest. Mention should be made of the chain of hills, attaining heights of over 1300 metres, which forms the backbone of the promontory of Cap Corse. The main ridge can be traversed throughout its length in one long day from Bastia, and the splendour of the views down on to the Mediterranean and towards the ranges of the interior is beyond all description.[27]
[Sidenote: Nature of the Climbing.]
There are no glaciers in Corsica, though in the Cinto and Rotondo groups snow-patches occasionally survive the summer’s heat. Both these groups show marked traces of glacier action. The ice work is limited to cutting in ice-choked chimneys and to clearing rocks. Long, steep, hard-frozen snow slopes necessitating a sustained use of the axe are seldom encountered, and ice-claws may safely be dispensed with. On the other hand, ski might prove to be of great value, as the return on foot from a climb over the long slopes of soft snow lying on the ‘maquis’ is often very trying. Devotees of ski-ing will find plenty of splendid ground, especially on the eastern and southern slopes of the Cinto group.
The rock is sound, and handholds are only too abundant. As a general rule, only those climbs are difficult which lead up over apparently perpendicular rock walls or ridges, rocks which from the distance look hopelessly impossible.
This deceptive appearance may account for the fact that until 1909 no climb of exceptional difficulty was accomplished in the island. Paglia Orba (2500 metres), the Matterhorn of Corsica and the most conspicuous mountain of the Cinto group, may be taken as an instance.
The east wall was first climbed in the Spring of 1909. The final 1000 feet of this wall appear to overhang, and actually do so for considerable sections of the ascent. The unique character of this climb would alone justify a visit to the island. The possibilities of new climbs--both new routes and first ascents--are still numerous. Nothing need be declared impossible on the strength of an inspection from a distance; the chances are that a route of the most hopeless appearance will ‘go,’ and also provide the best of climbing.
The view from almost any summit embraces greater or lesser portions of the sunny coast-line, which adds the charm of contrast to the alpine surroundings.
FOOTNOTES:
[26] From the point of view of expense, the mountaineer will find mountaineering in Corsica exceptionally cheap. Hotel prices average five to six francs per diem, but the climber who spends most of his time in tents will incur even this moderate expense only for comparatively brief periods. The return fare to Ajaccio is about £8, and, provided the climber imports his own stock of tinned provisions, a further sum of £15 to £20 should be more than ample for a month’s sojourn in the island, on a pre-war estimate.
[27] When one considers the proximity of the mountains to the coast, their height (Monte Cinto, 2710 metres) is considerable; and many magnificent walls of well over 2000 or even 3000 feet are to be met with.
Joanne’s guide-book, La Corse (Hachette et Cie, Paris), and Baedeker, contain very full information as regards accommodation, etc. Baedeker supplies much useful information on the mountains themselves. The best maps are those of the Corps d’État-Major, on a scale of 1 to 80,000. They are somewhat unreliable, and the reverse of clear. These and other maps are procurable at the stationers’ shops in Ajaccio and Bastia.
XV. THE HIMALAYA
BY T. G. LONGSTAFF
Although the natural and physical conditions in those ranges loosely called the Himalaya are probably more diverse than in any other mountain region in the world, still a certain amount of generalization is possible.
GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS
[Sidenote: Configuration.]
Essentially, we find two more or less parallel ranges. The southern and highest is visible from the plains. On this stand the great peaks whose names are familiar to us. This outer range is pierced by numerous rivers which burst through a series of deep, narrow gorges. The low elevation of these river valleys brings an almost tropical fauna and flora up to the foot of the Snows. The snowline on this range, owing to greater precipitation, reaches down lower than on the second range, that to the north. This second, or northern, range constitutes the local water-parting between India and the countries to the north. It is reached by broad, open, treeless valleys almost Tibetan in character as in fauna. Its snowline is high owing to the drier climate. The peaks seldom attain 25,000 feet, and, in general, are not so precipitous as the great line of peaks to the south.
Even in Kashmir this arrangement of two parallel ranges may be traced; but though there is plenty of fine climbing on the ranges which enclose between them the Vale of Kashmir, most of which have already fallen to the attacks of residents and British officers, yet the eyes of the mountaineer from England will be fixed on the vast range of the Karakoram beyond the Indus.
[Illustration: THE HIMALAYA
[C. F. MEADE ] This grand chain has a character of its own, though there are points of resemblance to both ranges of the Himalaya. The glaciers are the largest outside the Polar regions. The peaks are very high and very precipitous. It is the country par excellence for the mountain explorer; but for the mountain climber the greatest drawback is the journey of four to six weeks from England to the scene of operations.
[Sidenote: Climbing Conditions.]
Rock climbing is the same all the world over in that the conditions vary on every mountain in any range. Also, a rock peak cannot be really reconnoitred from a distance; we must come to grips with the rocks before we can know the practicability of a route. As to snow and ice, I think conditions are worse in the Himalaya than in the Alps or Caucasus, chiefly owing to greater variations of temperature. Avalanches of all kinds are bigger, and great caution must be exercised in the choice of camps and bivouacs. Snow and ice slopes in the Alps appear to me to look steeper than they eventually turn out to be. In the Caucasus they are about as steep as they look. In the Himalaya I have usually found them markedly steeper than their distant appearance led me to expect.
[Sidenote: Management.]
Diverse as are the physical conditions of the Himalayan regions, the inhabitants thereof show an even greater variety of character. Some general rules of conduct may, however, be indicated, though most of them may be considered by mountaineers as truisms not worth the stating. The first object to keep in view is to create such an impression amongst the natives as will make the path of subsequent visitors easier and not harder. Almost all hill men are superstitious. You must expect timidity at first. Remember particularly that native servants are very prone to abuse the authority which in the eyes of the villagers is acquired by the mere fact of their being in your service. The hill man is usually inarticulate; he knows you cannot speak his dialect, and probably your servants are the only interpreters. Your watchfulness is his only chance of a square deal. Pay for everything with your own hand, if it be only an anna for a few eggs. Of course always pay your day-to-day coolies yourself, and, if they desire it, give each his four or eight annas separately, only paying over a whole rupee to a group from the same hamlet.
Religious beliefs are very mixed in the hills, and it is a good rule to keep well away when your coolies, whatever their race, are cooking or eating. Of course you must never offer them cooked food. Away from the villages, and if only two or three men are with you, such things as biscuits and jam--being assumed not to be made by hand--may be offered if necessary. This applies more especially to Hindus; but though Moslems should eat with Christians, the same rules had better be applied. With Gurkhas (though nominal Hindus) or others with the strain of Mongolian blood in them--who are or have till lately been Buddhists--the code need not be quite so strict.
These remarks might seem unnecessary to anyone having experience only of sport or travel in High Asia; but for the mountaineer who essays to take coolies or shikaris to high bivouacs it is obviously of great advantage to get them to adopt European foods and methods of cooking. This was successfully done by the Italian expedition to the Karakoram in 1909. Tea (native green is best) and the vilest cigarettes may be offered to any coolie without fear of offence as a reward after an extra hard day. The gift of a sheep or goat on suitable occasions produces a glow of contentment all through the camp.
As to more general conduct: Refrain from whistling. Do not bathe naked before natives. Never lose your temper except on purpose and with a definite object. Never allow your servants to be familiar or to enter your tent with their shoes on. Do not laugh or joke with your men unless you are master of the language. If you do, you may be as broad as possible, especially with Gurkhas. Exact proper respect from all village officials with whom you come in contact. Conversely, treat a native gentleman with the same courtesy that you expect yourself. Hindu religious mendicants and devotees are easily irritated, and are best left severely alone.
[Sidenote: The Campaign.]
It is absolutely essential that the climber planning a visit to the Himalaya should make up his mind exactly what he wants to do. Leaving aside exploration, the most dangerous lure on the path of the mountaineer, we may for convenience confine ourselves to two courses--the attack on some particular and probably very high peak; or a less ambitious and more general campaign in some selected district in which climbing for its own sake, apart from any design of raising ‘the record,’ is the object aimed at.
Having settled the strategic idea, we must next consider tactics. In the case of a single big mountain, the method of attack will be in the nature of siege operations; and in this case a siege train, in the form of Piedmontese guides, makes for success. Still, a siege is dull, and to get the full pleasure out of a trip in the Himalaya, amateurs and not guides are the best companions. The difficulty is to get them for an absence of several months from England.
As a matter of tactics, the writer prefers, with or without guides, to try and ‘rush’ peaks; for by this means far the most climbing is secured. On the other hand, more frequent failure is risked by such direct attacks. Unless the weather is favourable, a successful high ascent is quite impossible; and if a climber is moving about and continually attacking different peaks, he loses chances on particular peaks which the besieger, waiting upon their favourable moments, can take instant advantage of.
There is, further, the vexed question of the actual final assault. Should it be a gradual pushing of bivouacs higher and higher, in the hope of acclimatizing ourselves to the want of oxygen; or should we make the last bivouac as low down as possible, in the hope that better conditions for digestion and sleep will enable us to put forth one tremendous effort on the final day of the adventure? Subjection to low pressures, or want of oxygen, for days or weeks will find out our weakest spots. With some the belly, with others the mind. For myself, I know that after several nights at very high altitudes my mind is dull and my courage reduced to vanishing-point. In all cases, so far as I know, there is considerable loss of weight. To actual mountain sickness we can acclimatize ourselves by going as frequently as possible above 20,000 feet. But we cannot stay for long at very high altitudes and preserve all our strength. We must come down again soon to 15,000 feet, or lower if we can. It is easier to deny than to prove the existence of mountain sickness; but although we do not bleed from the ears, or even the nose, nowadays, most of us suffer some diminution of our powers. This being so, it appears that the best chance of success on a very high mountain is to send some one else to examine the final route and to lay the last bivouac for the storming party; just high enough for them, supposing they are in good condition, to reach the summit well on in the following afternoon. This may seem a soulless way to wear a mountain down; but it is merely the application of Polar methods to slightly changed conditions.
As in the Polar regions, also, the weather decides between success and failure, between return and no return. Because of the cold, it is unwise to start before sunrise.[28] The risk is less in descending easy ground at night--perhaps because movement is then quicker.
A concrete example puts the case shortly. Trisul is only some 23,400 feet high, but it appears to be the highest peak of which the complete ascent is universally admitted. After two nights, at about 20,000 feet, in bad weather, the party retreated to 14,000 feet. Three days later, after one bivouac at about 18,000 feet, the summit was reached at 4 p.m. (10 hours), and the night was spent on the return at about 16,500 feet.
[Sidenote: Season.]
Generally speaking, the regular rainy season (‘monsoon’) commences in July and ends in September; but all the world over more rain falls, and falls more frequently, on mountains than on the country immediately surrounding them. Hence, though probably June is the best month for the high peaks, we cannot even then count on continuous fine weather.
It is always easy to avoid the monsoon by pushing north into the second range; but here again it must not be expected that the highest peaks will completely conform to the rainless character of the rest of this region.
When the rains are over, in September and October spells of gloriously fine and clear weather are the rule; but the nights are then bitterly cold above the tree-line.
THE CHIEF DISTRICTS
Though the Himalaya, in the widest sense of the term, extend beyond the Brahmapootra on the east and beyond the Indus on the west, we may impose these limits upon them for present purposes. Furthermore, only sections of these ranges are at present politically accessible to the mountaineer.
Practically the whole of the Himalayan region is covered by the Great Trigonometrical Survey of India on a scale of one inch to four miles. The sheets are obtainable in London.
It would be easy to criticize this map in detail. For reasons of finance and policy, the surveyors were ordered to cover a very large area each season and not to attempt detailed surveys of uninhabited areas. It would be, therefore, manifestly unfair to set up claims which were never made by the authors and then to demolish them.[29]
[Sidenote: The Eastern Himalaya.]
For Bhutan, it is best to consult Claude White’s Sikkim and Bhutan (Arnold, 1909). It would be necessary to obtain special leave from the Government of India to travel here; and the country is not very promising from our point of view.
[Sidenote: Sikkim.]
For Sikkim, consult Mr. Freshfield’s Round Kangchenjunga, and several papers by Dr. Kellas in the Alpine and Geographical Journals.
Sikkim is a region of tropical contrasts, merging on the north into Tibetan conditions. The vegetation is magnificent. The great peaks in the south are difficult; in the north much easier, where the isolated peak of Chumolhari (23,930 feet) has long challenged attention.
The starting-point is Darjeeling, reached by rail in a day and night from Calcutta, or in three days from Bombay. A call should be made on the Deputy Commissioner, especially if the climber intends to enter native Sikkim. At present permission would not be given to enter Nepal or Tibet, and probably not for Bhutan. Stores can be bought beforehand at Darjeeling, and a Buddhist cook should be, if possible, secured.
The semi-Tibetan natives of Upper Sikkim, and similar immigrants from north-eastern Nepal, are splendid material for glacier work. Dr. Kellas with these people found himself quite able to dispense with alpine guides. They are cheerful, smiling and easy for Europeans to get on with, fond of a joke, and, if handled well, honest and reliable. For the first part of the journey in the lower country temporary coolies can well be used.
[Sidenote: Nepal.]
In Nepal, though in certain circumstances the frontier is not inviolable, yet for a variety of reasons, not all political, an Englishman is not likely to be able to penetrate to any of the great peaks. At the same time, for the mountaineer as well as for the explorer, few journeys are better worth making than that up the valley of the Gandak, or the Kosi, into the heart of the grandest of all mountain ranges.
[Sidenote: Kumaon and Garhwal.]
To my mind this is the finest part of the Himalaya at present accessible. It is the most ‘alpine’ portion of the Himalaya, possessing peaks over 25,000 feet. The scenery, flora and fauna are exceedingly beautiful and varied. It contains much difficult ground, even below the tree-line. Most of the highest peaks are very severe. Towards Tibet the country opens out and the mountains are easier.[30]
The approach is by rail to Kathgodam. There follows a short drive to Naini Tal, where all ordinary supplies may be obtained. Thence a driving road to Ranikhet and a pony road to Almora, where fair supplies are also obtainable.
A formal permit must be obtained from the Deputy Commissioner of Almora, and two chuprassis will be told off to engage coolies from village to village. For Garhwal it will probably be necessary to get a separate permit and chuprassis from the Deputy Commissioner at Pawri.
When the base of operations is reached in Garhwal or Kumaon, it is advisable to engage a few local men as permanent coolies. The ordinary stages are worked by relays of coolies from village to village. In these, native flour (ata), rice, fowls, goats and, higher up, sheep can usually be obtained. A Mussulman cook can be obtained in Naini Tal. An army reservist--Garhwali or Gurkha--would be found of assistance. He should be provided with an extra broad pair of good nailed boots.
Gurla Mandhata (25,350 feet) is just over the frontier in Tibet. Access to it is at present barred by our own Government. It can be reached through Kumaon in a fortnight from Almora, and is probably easily climbable from the Gurla Glacier.[31]
In Garhwal the Rishi Nali with Nanda Devi (25,660 feet) is the centre of attraction.[32] Under present conditions it is not likely to be climbed.
Dunagiri (23,184 feet), an outlier of this group, is pretty certainly climbable by Graham’s route--the south-west ridge--from a bivouac at the head of the Tolma valley. Farther north, Kamet (25,443 feet), allied with bad weather, has so far defied repeated attacks.
Every variety of climbing is to be found on these mountains, and it is a region that seems to exert an extraordinary fascination on every one who has visited it.
In the matter of securing coolies for climbing purposes, it is well to remember that the Kumaonis are a poor lot; the Danpurias and Garhwalis are better; the partially Hinduized Bhotias of Badrinath Niti and Milam are good; the still more Mongolian people of Gharbyang, and of the north-west corner of Nepal, are splendid, and can be taken on into Tibet.
[Sidenote: Tehri Garhwal.]
This small native hill state, west of British Garhwal, contains some very fine peaks around Gangotri. It is reached from Lansdowne or Mussoori. To facilitate travel, an introduction should be obtained to the Rajah. The mountains present a most promising and practically untouched field for the mountaineer. As coolies, the local men in the north are probably pretty good.
[Sidenote: The Simla Hill States.]
Kangra, Kulu, Spiti, Lahaol and Bushahr embrace a very large mountain area, and offer unlimited scope to the less ambitious mountaineer. It is an ‘alpine’ region, but still on the Himalayan scale. The peaks rarely attain 23,000 feet. But probably more actual climbing can be obtained in one season here than in any other section of the Himalaya. General Bruce’s book, Kulu and Lahoul, should be consulted.
The entry is from Dharmsala or Simla. The latter, probably, will be easiest for new-comers to India, since there is a railway to Simla; and at Simla supplies and servants can be obtained.
Hindus, Buddhists, and nominal Moslems are met with, and for coolies, it would seem that the quality of the natives improves as we move north.
Chamba is a semi-independent hill state. The arrangements for travelling must be made with the Rajah. It is a difficult country, and not very promising. Manimais (or Mani Mahais), however, looks magnificent.
[Sidenote: Kashmir and Karakoram.]
The mountaineering literature on the Karakoram is voluminous, and it would be out of place to enter into details. A drawback to this region is the time it takes to reach the mountains. The railway runs to Rawal Pindi; thence by carriage or motor to Srinagar, two to ten days, according to the state of the road. From there it is a matter of coolie or pony transport, according to the time of year and the route chosen. The time taken from Srinagar to Astor (for the Nanga Parbat group) will be again about ten days; or from Srinagar to Skardu (for the western Karakoram) about a fortnight. From Srinagar to Leh takes about three weeks. The routes themselves vary considerably according to the time of year.
It may be remarked that there is a very promising 25,000-foot group, which can be easily reached from Panamik in the Upper Nubra Valley.[33] Unfortunately, our party was prevented by bad weather from making anything like a thorough reconnaissance. It would probably take two months to reach the foot of the peak from England.
The Kashmiris (mainly Moslems) on the whole are a poor lot, and as servants and followers they are apt to ill-treat and rob the up-country villagers. But both Baltis (Moslems) and Ladakhis (Buddhists) are splendid as coolies if they are handled properly.
[Sidenote: The Hindu Khush, etc.]
With regard to the Gilgit Agency, of which the native states of Hunza and Nagar form part, it must be borne in mind that permission to travel is difficult to obtain. The country is poor, and transport and supplies are hardly sufficient for the use of the garrison and the frontier officers, who have to be constantly on tour.
The seven distinct tribes inhabiting the Agency vary in quality from the point of view of the mountaineer. Most of the shikaris are splendid cragsmen, and some of the Hunza men are acquainted with axe and rope.
The Hindu Khush, extending from Hunza through Ishkoman, Punyal, Yasin, Ghizr and Chitral to the Afghan border, contains many, almost untouched, fine mountains and glaciers, culminating in the wonderful group of Tirich Mir (25,426 feet). But the conditions of transport and frontier policy will render access difficult for some years to come. Yet the region is a most interesting one and the scenery very varied, for it includes the water-parting between the Indus and the Oxus. Many aspects of the country, both physical and human, vividly recalled to me memories of the Caucasus.
PERSONAL MATTERS
[Sidenote: Expense.]
The cost of a climbing expedition in the Himalaya entirely depends on the scale of preparation. If guides are taken, their fares, outfit and pay will be a heavy item--not less than £250 each. It is obvious that the further English stores have to be transported the more they will cost by the time the mountains are reached. It is cheaper in the end to get most of the stores at the last hill station, and to pay a little more for them. The equipment for the high bivouacs, however, must be brought out from home. This will cost, say £50. A first-class return by P. & O., plus fare to the end of the railway transport, may be put at £100.
If the expedition is on a modest scale, and the climber has some knowledge of the language and customs of the country, and can limit himself and his servants to a dozen loads, the actual expense of travel in the hills is not great. Twenty pounds a month is a liberal estimate for each European. This includes everything: food, servants and coolies’ wages. Two amateurs, contributing £500 in all between them, and with four months to spare, ought to be able to put in ten weeks in the hills without any difficulty. In Kashmir, with the same allowance of time and money, they would only get eight or nine weeks in the mountains, and in the Karakoram not more than a month. (All estimates are pre-war.)
Obviously a big expedition with guides must cost a great deal more than this, but the amount can be calculated on the basis of the figures given above. For a large party it would be advisable to bring out all the supplies for the mountains packed in numbered Vanesta cases. A number must be put on every side of each package, and lists of contents to correspond prepared. These cases also serve as good substitutes for chairs and tables.
[Sidenote: Outfit.]
The days or weeks of travel to the foot of the Snows require an outfit distinct from that required for high mountaineering. The extent of the travelling outfit depends primarily upon the time and money at the disposal of the individual. A camp-bed and an 80-lb. Kabul tent, ordered beforehand from the Elgin Mills at Cawnpore or through the A. & N. Stores at Bombay, is worth serious consideration. Personally, I prefer a Whymper tent, with an extra fly to keep the sun off and with the floor-cloth sewn in. A Whymper tent can also be used by the cook and followers, without the double fly and with a loose floor-cloth; if this is sewn in, it is apt to get burned when fires are lighted inside the tent on wet evenings.
On all railway journeys, in most bungalows--public and private--and even in some hotels, bedding must be carried. A very thin cork or hair mattress is a luxury; the sleeping-bag does nearly as well. Two Jaeger sheets, two Jaeger blankets, a pillow and a couple of pillow-cases, aided by a bath towel, really suffice. The whole is wrapped up and strapped in a strong ground sheet laced down the middle, or in a more complicated valise sold in India. This bundle constitutes the bistra, one coolie-load; it should be as rain- and vermin-proof as possible.
A folding X-table and chair are almost necessary concessions to caste. A spare chair should be available if natives of chair rank are likely to be met. An india-rubber or canvas bath is also necessary for other purposes. When bathing in the open, as before said, drawers at least should always be worn out of respect for native sentiment. Toilet kit is carried in an enamelled iron basin with a leather cover, called a chilamchi.
Cooking vessels (degchis) should be of aluminium, but cups and plates and teapot may be enamel-ware. Either hurricane lanterns (kerosene), or candle-lanterns that can stand on a table, are necessary in camp. All these should be obtained from the A. & N. or other stores in India.
[Sidenote: Food.]
As to food, the necessary tinned butter, biscuits, jam and other groceries can be bought at the last hill station. In most places in the hills sheep or goats can be bought as required. Farther on you must bring your own live stock along with you; this should ensure milk of sorts. Chickens and eggs, rice and native flour (ata), can be purchased in most villages.
On the glaciers, cocoa, chocolate or tea, with plasmon, are needed for breakfast, and, for the evening, maggi (vegetable) soups with rice. At the highest camps by far the best drink is some sort of dried malted milk preparation, like Horlick’s or Allen & Hanbury’s diet. The above must be brought out from England, unless it is found to be obtainable from the A. & N. Stores in Bombay.
[Sidenote: The High Camp Outfit.]
The tent should be the Mummery pattern if carried by yourself, but may be Whymper pattern if coolies are still available. Ice-axes can be lengthened to serve as tent poles, if desired, by means of a piece of hollow bamboo 10 or 12 inches long which is slipped over the point. The bamboo must be bound round with wire at the end to prevent splitting. In bad weather a small ventilator to the tent is necessary, as it may be found impossible to open the door. Sleeping-bags can be made of any thickness and warmth of goose-down. Balloon-silk should be sewn underneath the bag, and brought up for at least 18 inches over the feet. At high altitudes only a primus stove, burning kerosene, will serve. Absolute alcohol should be carried to start the apparatus, and a flat strip of perforated brass as a wind-shield is necessary. The primus stove and reserve of kerosene, in old petrol tins, must not be carried in the same load with any food. This must be specially remembered during the whole of the expedition.
It is a good plan to camp not later than 3 p.m., and to start melting snow at once. The first melting will probably be drunk tepid. Then the evening meal, or rather drink, of soup or cocoa or malted milk must be taken; following this, while the stove is still alive, more snow should be melted and the morning’s drink prepared. If this is placed in large thermos-bottles inside the sleeping-bags it will last, if untouched, till the following afternoon.
It is worse than useless to invite frost-bite by a very early start. But in any case the time cannot be spared to melt snow in the morning.
[Sidenote: Clothing.]
So long as you wear a good ‘Cawnpore’ pith helmet (topi) nothing else matters much. Sunburn will prevent you wearing too little. Some people prefer a turban. This consists of the pugari or loonghi and the koolla or conical cap affected by Mohammedans and Europeans, and round which the pugaree is worn. On a cold morning the tail of the pugaree can be wrapped round the neck. It is easy to tie--in a fashion. It is in some ways better than a pith helmet, but does not protect the eyes from glare. Shorts are very cool for marching; but beware of blisters at the back of the knees. A spine pad is necessary in the valleys, and pleasant at even the greatest altitudes.
Footgear for high climbing is still a vexed problem. You must have very heavily nailed boots for the moraines. On snow I have worn a covering of raw cowhide, hair outside over the front half of the boot. The half sole is made of stoutest canvas. The whole may be garnished with a common pair of Swiss ice-claws. Boots should be large enough for two pairs of socks to be worn. Since putties will be invariably used, stockings will only be needed for a change in the evening. No doubt for very high work some Polar footgear would be better than climbing boots.[34] Possibly ski-boots may meet the difficulty. But a piece of blanket wrapped over the whole boot and held in place with a large pair of claws, or by the boot-nails as they wear through, ought to be an efficient substitute. Swiss snow-shoes are hardly worth carrying, but on easy slopes at high altitudes they can be very useful, and I have been glad of them. Ski are probably useless, for our purpose, owing to transport difficulties.
Smoked glasses are only better than nothing; the proper colour is something between yellow and green, such as Sinclair’s ‘N.W.V.’ glasses, or their like.
[Sidenote: Instruments.]
You cannot produce a good map without sacrificing much time and energy. But apart from this, it is useful to know the heights of camps, etc. For this purpose use at your camps a boiling-point thermometer (hypsometer), specially constructed for high altitudes: you must observe the air temperature with a swing thermometer at the same time.
Also take a large (4½ inch) Watkin mountain aneroid (J. Hicks, Hatton Garden), graduated from 31 to 10 inches. Keep it permanently out of action as soon as you go above 5000 feet, and only throw it into gear when taking a reading--allowing not more than a few minutes for it to settle. Put it out of gear as soon as the reading has been made.
A reading should be taken with the Watkin whenever the hypsometer is used, as a check on both instruments. When climbing, and at the highest camp, probably only the Watkin will be used, since, even with absolute alcohol, an hour may be spent over an hypsometer observation at great heights. The Watkin must be read both on leaving camp and on returning.
The air temperature ought to be taken at each observation; but this is a refinement.
All observations must be immediately entered in a special notebook with hour, date and place. These should be worked out by some one else on a return to civilization. The Indian Meteorological Department or the Survey at Dehra Dun or the Royal Geographical Society would be the natural referees.
FOOTNOTES:
[28] Alpine Journal, vol. xxiii. p. 223.
[29] Alpine Journal, vol. xxv. p. 389.
[30] Consult A. L. Mumm’s Five Months in the Himalaya (Arnold).
[31] Alpine Journal, vol. xxiii. p. 217 et seq., and map.
[32] Consult Alpine Journal, vol. xxiii. p. 202, and maps, and vol. xxiv. p. 107, and map.
[33] Alpine Journal, vol. xxv. p. 487, with map, and Neve’s Picturesque Kashmir, chap. xii.
[34] Consult Appalachia, Oct. 1914, vol. xiii. p. 160.
XVI. THE MOUNTAINS OF NORWAY
BY W. CECIL SLINGSBY
Concerning the mountains of Norway, their geography and the history of their exploration, a considerable amount of published information is already available for mountaineers: it is, therefore, unnecessary to do more than give a general idea of the mountaineering potentialities of the country, and of the facilities of travel and provisioning.
[Sidenote: Guide-books and Literature.]
Baedeker is excellent as a general guide, and a copy should be in the hands, and to some extent also in the head, of at least one member of every mountaineering party. In addition, maps should be obtained of each district which the climbers intend to visit. The Amts Karter, price 1 krone each, will answer this purpose.
There are no ‘Climbers’ Guides’ for Norway, though many books deal more or less with its mountains. The great mountain classic is Norway and its Glaciers, by Professor J. D. Forbes. Mrs. Aubrey le Blond has dealt solely with one group, the mountains of Lyngen Fjord, in Mountaineering in the Land of the Midnight Sun. This is of use to those who wish to climb between lat. 69° and 70°, but is not of service in Central Norway. New Climbs in Norway, by Mr. E. C. Oppenheim, deals also with certain individual peaks. There is an excellent book in Norsk on the Söndmöre Alps, near Aalesund. Norway, the Northern Playground, is the result of many years’ experience on my own part, but barely touches the romantic regions of Arctic Norway. The Alpine Journal has many papers by many authors on all parts of the country.
[Illustration: NORWEGIAN PEAKS [NORMAN COLLIE]
Of late years Norsk mountaineers have been very active, not only in Norway and in the Alps, but also in far-off Himalaya and the Southern Andes. The Aarbog of “Den Norske Turist Forening” virtually resembles an alpine journal, and its illustrations of glaciers and aiguilles are valuable. It has had for many years mountaineering papers both in English and Norsk. Every one who intends to climb in Norway should become a member of this most useful club. He will have considerable privileges, connected with mountain huts, etc. No mountaineering qualification is required; merely a small subscription. T. Bennett & Sons, or F. Beyer (Tourist Agents at Bergen), as well as the keepers of the tourist huts, will enrol members. There is also an inner circle, the “Norske Tinder Klub,” whose mountaineering qualification is at least as high as that of the Alpine Club.
A slight knowledge of the language is essential. Norsk is easier for north-country folk to acquire than for southerners, as much of our northern dialect is almost identical with Norsk. As an outcome of perhaps laudable ultra-patriotism, great changes, which in the main lead to a simplification of the language, are being made. The natives themselves during this period of transition apparently have no fixed rules of spelling, and a foreigner need not feel uneasy on the subject. The greatest difficulty in connection with this phase is that--so far as I am aware--there is no Norsk-English dictionary which has adopted, or at present can adopt, the spelling mostly in use.
[Sidenote: Season.]
As in Switzerland, July and August are the best months for mountaineering in Norway, though, speaking generally, there is more often settled weather in June and September. In some years, the two last weeks in June are perfect for climbing, but as in the Alps again, there is often too much snow for pleasant mountaineering before July. Similarly, there is often ideal weather in September, and though the days are getting short, grand climbing may be done during the whole of the month. Once the weather breaks, and heavy snows fall, no good climbing can be done. The presence of the Gulf Stream causes a rather larger rainfall in Norway than in the Alps. Often bad weather in the Alps means excellent weather in Norway, and vice versa.
[Sidenote: Routes of Access, Travel, etc.]
Travelling facilities have much improved during the last few years. The steamboat service from England is better, but more remains yet to be done in this respect. The North Sea has not improved, and never will. A quickened train service from Christiania to Throndhjem shortens the journey up to the romantic north by a good day. The completion of the picturesque Bergen to Christiania railway has revolutionized travel in many ways, both good and bad. The usual routes to Norway are by Hull or Newcastle to Bergen, Christiania or Throndhjem. Dozens of public steam-yachts, some starting from London, run every summer. Some are ocean liners of a large tonnage, and they may occasionally be used. To ‘consult Cook’ is good advice.
Bergen is the best starting-place. From thence mountaineers may proceed direct by steamer to Skjolden at the head of the Sogne Fjord, and from thence may now drive up to Turtegrö, the favourite centre for the Horungtinder--one of the finest ranges in Norway; or, and better still, they may go by rail to Vossevangen, drive to Gudvangen and then take steamer. Or further, by rail to Myrdal, and drive to Aurland and take steamer there.
Bergen is reached in about thirty-six hours from Hull or Newcastle. Numerous steamers leave there for every mountaineering district. Three days must be allowed by steamer from Bergen to Svolvaer, the centre of the Lofotens. Another day to Tromsö and Lyngen Fjord. It is always advisable to book berths on the north-going boats a fortnight before leaving. Thos. Cook & Son can do this.
Christiania is a good starting-point, and the railway to Throndhjem much shortens the time to get to Arctic Norway. The mineral railway, terminating at Narvik, near the mouth of the Ofoten Fjord, close to lat. 69°, is in direct communication with Stockholm, from which a ‘Lapland Express’ runs two or three times a week. By means of this, Arctic Norway can readily be reached by those who prefer railway travelling to steamboats--mostly within the Skjaergaard (or Skerries).
[Sidenote: Expense]
The return fare, Newcastle to Bergen, food included, is £6 first class. Rather more by Wilsons. The cost of two men for a three weeks’ tour in Central Norway, including going and returning, should be from £20 to £25 each. I have done it for considerably less. It may also easily be increased to £30 or £35 if the travellers are ultra-luxurious in their ways and habits. It should never be forgotten that a krone (1 kr.) is worth 1s. 1½d. Many novices, used to francs and lire, forget this fact. One pound only produces about 18 krone, and not 25. A large number of persons who take yachting cruises in huge steamboats, and who only land here and there, throw about their money in a wicked manner, and have much spoiled the very few natives with whom they have come in contact. Away from the haunts of the tourist horde, on the west coast, prices are still very reasonable. Tips must not be given on quite so generous a scale as in the Alps. (These prices are pre-war.)
[Sidenote: Equipment.]
For camp life excellent provisions are obtainable in Christiania, Throndhjem and Bergen, and by getting them in the country the worry of passing the Customs, which is not very serious, is avoided.
Experience shows that bacon and porridge form a great stand-by for a camp breakfast. First-rate sides of Yorkshire bacon and good oatmeal can be bought in the three above-named cities. As tinned meats, useful as they are, have their limitations, it is well to purchase a leg or two of mutton whenever possible. There is no doubt at all that one can climb infinitely better when fortified by fresh, rather than by tinned, meats. A trout-rod, and the ability to use it efficiently, is often most serviceable anywhere in Norway, and in the Lofotens a few sea-fishing appliances frequently add a welcome change to camp meals. One result of the great cod fishery in the Far North is that excellent French and Spanish wines are procurable at the posting stations at reasonable prices in Arctic Norway. Speaking generally, the farther north one goes the more comfortable are the steamers, and certainly the more interesting is the company met with. Ashore, the hospitality which many of us have met with leaves behind most happy memories.
With regard to the equipment requisite, generally speaking what is suitable for Switzerland is fit for Norway. It must, however, be taken for granted that, except in Christiania, and possibly to some extent now in Bergen, no alpine nails, ice-axes, goggles, alpine rope, etc., are procurable. If extra boots are not taken, it is also very desirable to take an ample supply of spare nails or screws. With these much can be added to the security of a party, by fitting up a casual porter or two with nails of a kind which he has probably never seen before. He may at first object, but in the course of the first day on the snows he will heartily approve, unless he may happen to come upon the--not uncommon--highly polished roches moutonnées of gneiss.
No longer is it necessary to take tents into Jotunheim or elsewhere in Central Norway, as comfortable inns and mountain huts are to be found here, there and everywhere. In Arctic Norway it is otherwise. In many places not only are tents a luxury but also a necessity, unless mountaineers have the use of a yacht where they can sleep, or unless they charter a small steamboat. Even then it is advisable to have tents, as now and then the question of safe anchorage is a difficult one. Nowadays the well-to-do merchants in Lofoten, and also on the mainland, very often possess motor-boats, which can be hired to take mountaineers to remote fjords together with their tents.
In Scandinavia it is a safe maxim to hold that the farther north one goes the more numerous are the mosquitoes. Hence mosquito nets should always be taken north of Throndhjem. Mosquitoes, fortunately, are not always in evidence even in hot summers.
[Sidenote: Guides.]
The question of guides is a difficult one. At least 90 per cent of the best climbing in Norway has been done without them, solely because they were non-existent when most needed. There are a few excellent men, experienced alike on difficult glaciers, on steep snow slopes and on rocks of the Chamonix Aiguille type, but their number is very limited. Several are to be met with in various places in the Jotun Fjelde, which include the Horungtinder.
In the neighbourhood of the Justedals-brae, which is by far the largest snow field in Continental Europe, and over 400 square miles in extent, there are naturally a few good icemen able and willing to tackle the very complex glacier problems. They can be found at Fjaerland, in the valley of Justedal, at Stryn, Olden and Loen, and probably also by now in Stardal and Jölster.
At or near Öie on the Hjörund Fjord, two or three very fair guides may be found for the Söndmöre Alps. These men have been trained more or less by British mountaineers. The same may be said for Romsdal, Eikisdal, as well as for Sundal in Nordmöre, where in the adjacent Troldheim are a few fine glaciers and interesting peaks of gneiss. At the same time, it is true that in every mountain valley in Central Norway there is at least one excellent cragsman to be found, who is invariably called to rescue crag-fast sheep or goats. These men, shod in snaukopper, or soft-soled shoes, climb fearlessly on the smooth glaciated crags of gneiss, and make excellent guides so far as rock climbing is concerned.
In Norway, which is at the same time the most democratic and the most conservative country in Europe, the guides and porters are often much better educated than their fellows in Switzerland, and know how to read a map intelligently. They are frequently landowners on a moderate scale, and consider that they confer a favour by acting as guides. They will not use the prefix ‘Mr.’ or ‘Herr’; and why should they? Frequently they can trace their ancestry back to the Viking Age, and even occasionally to the “Early Kings of Norway.” Though generally very nice fellows, they are fully conscious of the monetary value of their services, i.e. when they are really capable men. They have not yet learned to carry as much as the Swiss. As the summer is short, there is more than enough work to occupy the whole manhood of any particular district on the land without question of mountains. This condition has become of late years much aggravated by the enormous emigration to Canada and the United States.
Within the Arctic circle, amongst the hundred and twenty miles of aiguilles of gabbro and granite in the Lofoten Islands, there are no real mountain guides. This is the case, too, on the whole mainland of Norway within the magic circle, whether it be amongst the aiguilles of Lyngen Fjord or the weird truncated pyramids of gneiss along the coast, though even here a few good cragsmen are to be found.
We must to some extent make an exception in the case of the nomad Lapps who wander with their reindeer across the glaciers. The gallant French explorer of the snow fields and glaciers along the Swedish border, Monsieur Charles Rabot, made use of some of these men, and in his interesting book, Au Cap Nord, has recorded his experiences.
[Sidenote: General Topography and Structure.]
Though Norway is 1100 miles in length, the mountains which afford scope for indulging in the sport of mountaineering are confined between lat. 60° and 70°, i.e. from the glaciers of the Folgefond to the north point of the peninsula of Lyngen Fjord. More or less they are groups where gabbro has been upheaved through the surrounding silurian strata, granite or gneiss. These groups are unconnected save by relatively uninteresting rolling fjelde, the haunt of the wild reindeer and its enemy the lynx. Though there is as good climbing to be found in Norway as in the Alps, no mountain attains the height of 9000 feet, and consequently there is no continuous ice stream falling so far as that from the summit of Mont Blanc to the snout of the Glacier des Bossons. But there are many continuous icefalls of over 5000 feet, and some glaciers which descend over 6000 feet nearly to the fjords below. In many cases, as these ice streams are exceptionally steep and are hemmed in by straight-cut mountain walls of gneiss, the ice is more compressed, harder and of a deeper blue colour than what one sees in Switzerland. Notably is this the case in the glaciers of the Justedals-brae. There are also similar conditions in Lyngen Fjord in Arctic Norway, e.g. in the case of the noble Fornæsbrae, descending from Gjækkevarre--the Mont Blanc of the North.
The finest range in Central Norway is that of the Horungtinder and portion of the Jotun Fjelde. Its dominating point is Skagastölstind. This range has the advantages, and likewise possibly the disadvantages, of possessing a well-recognized centre at Turtegrö, which, from a picturesque point of view, is at the wrong side of the range. The many fine peaks are nowadays being worked out with a persistency worthy of Wasdale Head or Pen-y-Pass. Those of us who know the Coolin in Skye well, know what grand climbing is suggested by the word ‘gabbro,’ the formation of the Horungtinder.
In several other districts gabbro spires give the tone to the picture and afford magnificent climbing to the mountaineer. Notably is this the case in Söndmöre, on each side of the Hjörund Fjord, where some lovely mountains, such as Slogen, bathe their feet in the sea. Unfortunately, they frequently have their heads bound up with fleecy clouds, owing to their proximity to the Gulf Stream and to nature’s condensers in the form of huge snow fields. The 120 miles’ length of the Lofoten Islands are also built up of granite and gabbro. The first view of these islands gives a sensation of exaltation and joy. And their colour! It is the same formation as the Coolin, and the same influences are at work. The Gulf Stream, that rare and subtle painter, simply touches the mountains with its moisture-laden breezes, and, helped by the sun, a richness and delicacy of tint appears which is unknown elsewhere in Europe. It lacks only the contrast which the Coolin possess of the changing colour of heather.
The mountains of the Lyngen Peninsula, a grand region of rugged aiguilles and huge glaciers, which stream down seawards from, in some cases, a height of over 6000 feet, all consist of gabbro. But it must not be concluded that the only good climbing is confined to mountains of this order. As in the Alps, granite and gneiss hold their own, and very many beautiful mountains afford arête and face climbing of exceptional interest.
In Romsdal, Eikisdal and Troldheim, the latter until recently a much neglected district, there is grand sport to be had, not only on rocks but on steep and difficult glaciers as well.
North of Throndhjem are the Oxtinder. Though high and girt about their loins with glaciers, they are, it is said, disappointing. The glacier region of Svartisen and a few rock peaks south of Bodö, but yet within the Arctic circle, deserve more detailed attention from our countrymen than they have yet met with.
On the mainland, north of Bodö and the Salten Fjord but south of the Ofoten Fjord, are some of the most beautiful and some of the most fiendish-looking rock mountains conceivable in a mountaineer’s nightmare. In the first category is the Strandaatind, which has a most lovely outline, and is also a difficult mountain to ascend. Not far away are two hideous and truncated obelisks. These are in South Folden Fjord. At the head of this fjord, and on and within the Swedish frontier, there is a grand glacier region.
Sixty-five miles farther north the Stedtind, or Anvil peak, a monolith with one diagonal crack across the face, rises 5200 feet out of the sea. Probably it is the most hideous mountain monster on our planet. Yet there are only 15 feet of especial difficulty to be crossed when the ascent is made from the back. True, but these 15 feet are highly sensational!
There are still left unclimbed in this region other gruesome peaks which await mountaineers capable of taking the initiative. The glaciers of Frostisen and a few of the high peaks rising out of this snow field have been fairly well explored, but as yet little information has been given us on the subject.
Up to comparatively recent years there was a strange ignorance about the higher mountains in Norway, and great uncertainty as to which was the highest. Once upon a time Sulitelma held the honour. Snehaettan also had a short reign. In an old atlas of mine, Skagastölstind is termed “the culminating point of Scandinavia.” Then came the plea for Galdhöpiggen; and not many years ago a claim was put in for Knutshultind, which was never looked upon seriously. For a good many years, however, Galdhöpiggen has been recognized as the king, though its neighbour, Glittertind, was only twenty odd feet lower. The summit of the former consists of a narrow rock ridge terminating abruptly in a precipice at one end, which therefore cannot hold much snow. The latter is a snow dome. I pointed out many years ago the probability that after two or three years of unusually heavy snows the snow dome would rise, that Glittertind would be raised to the throne, and Galdhöpiggen be deposed. This has come to pass, and now Glittertind--a much duller mountain than its rival--is “the culminating point of Scandinavia.” It may and ought to be deposed ere long.
[Sidenote: Local Conditions.]
In both Central and Arctic Norway there are some conditions which do not prevail in the Alps. The long nightless days have both their advantages and their disadvantages. In Arctic Norway there is a topsy-turvyness to which we are unaccustomed. One never knows when to go to bed, and, as the snow does not get so soft as in Central Norway, there is a great temptation to delay departure and waste much time on the way. There is naturally a feeling of romance in arriving on the summit of a difficult mountain a few minutes before midnight, and of watching the sun roll along several degrees above the mountain horizon. Still, for the sake of the sub-conscious machinery of the body, it is best to observe the usual hours for work and for sleep.
In Central Norway I have seen the sun both set and rise again a couple of hours later while I was traversing a difficult mountain ridge. But there is an enormous difference between the length of days in the end of June or July and that in the middle of August. Occasionally mountaineers who do not recognize this fact get benighted.
In Central Norway the snows become soft by 9 a.m., though not to the same extent as in the Alps. Still, an early start is desirable when a fine expedition is contemplated. Especially is this the case when crossing the Justedals-brae or other huge snow fields.
Avalanches fall as they do in the Alps, but rarely between the end of June and the beginning of September, and stones, icebound at night, are loosened by the sun in the morning, and come toppling down in the orthodox manner, and may, perchance, be a danger to the unwary. In fact, the ordinary dangers associated with high mountains exist equally in Norway.
In some regions magnetic rocks occur, and then the compass is of no use. Where this is the case, and mists come on, and there is no wind to indicate the cardinal points, the interest of the expedition may unexpectedly be increased.
Ice, hard blue ice, is much more often encountered on the Norwegian glaciers and gullies than in the Alps.
On very steep snow slopes and glaciers in the Far North one frequently comes upon a deep square-sided groove in the snow; at the top of the slope it may be 12 feet wide and 4 feet deep. This imperceptibly widens, during a descent of between 1500 and 2000 feet, to a groove, still square-sided but now 20 to 25 feet in width and 7 or 8 feet deep. Such grooves are most difficult to cross, and on one memorable expedition on Rulten, when victory was almost assured, the party was driven back by the apparent danger of making such a crossing. These grooves show no sign of the work of falling stones or rocks, but are probably, at an earlier period of the year, caused by water. I have never met similar grooves in Central Norway, nor yet in the Alps.
After a long spell of fine weather during the nightless days of the summer months, the glaciers may become very dangerous by reason of a peculiarity in the character of their crevasses. The larger and the flatter the glacier, the greater the danger. This is especially the case on the Justedals-brae, though by no means confined to that region. The condition is caused, in my belief, principally by the comparatively low altitude of the sun above the horizon. The rays of the sun are directed more horizontally upon the snow, and for a considerably larger number of hours during the long days in Norway than is the case in the Alps. This approximation to horizontality causes an abnormal melting power to be directed to the under side of the snow eaves and of the bridges of open crevasses. Especially is this the case when these eaves are attached and frozen to the north or northerly walls of the crevasses. Under these conditions crevasses of 25 or 30 feet in width may only have the appearance of a width of 2 or 3 feet. Not only this, but they often have clear-cut and well-defined edges and not jagged lines. On the surface there may be little or no indication of the hidden dangers which are shielded from view.
The interest in hot seasons may be much increased by the presence of ‘pink snow,’ Protococcus nivalis, which has been known to lie in patches covering several acres.
In Norway there are several great snow fields, Greenlands in miniature. Hill and dale on these snowy uplands are alike covered with glacier, and only here and there rocky islets or nunataks appear, and usually as alpine gardens. In nearly all cases the rock below the ice sheet is gneiss, and if the glaciers were to disappear, rolling fjelde, or rounded hog-backed peakless mountains 5000 to nearly 7000 feet in height, would appear. Such snow fields are rare in the Alps; consequently British mountaineers have little experience, on a large scale, of glaciers which rest on broad, gently sloping ridges, and which slowly descend, maintaining connection at the same time with glaciers on either side moving nearly in the same direction. The process is natural enough. The results are more or less novel and appalling. On the ridges gravitation is at work, and the ice moves onwards in three directions: down the main axis of the ridge and downwards on each side. In years of little snow, consequently, scores of quadrangular masses of névé and ice are left, on every side of which are deep square-walled crevasses. Woe betide the party which descends such a ridge without using the greatest care. Few men may have experienced these conditions, but those who have will always retain a lively memory of them.
It is not necessary to repeat, to mountaineers, that most Englishmen who have climbed in Norway return again and again, to a country which has still much of the romance of exploration, and, for them, the sympathetic interest of an historical connection with their racial consciousness. I myself like to believe that we, who take our pleasures on the mountains--and the more grisly these mountains are the better we like them!--have inherited the passion from our ‘Norsk ancestry,’ who, as we gather from an old Saga, indulged in the sport of cliff climbing nearly one thousand years ago.
XVII. THE SOUTHERN ALPS OF NEW ZEALAND
BY MALCOLM ROSS
While distance lends enchantment, it also, not infrequently, presents difficulties. The mountaineer, probably more than most people, realizes this as, beside his winter fire in England, he sees through the smoke-rings of evening pipes alluring visions of the pine-clad Rockies, of the lonely Caucasus, of the giant Himalaya, of the high Andes and of the far-distant Southern Alps. Most climbers are also workers, and it is the time taken and the expense of the journey that no doubt give them pause when they think of the distant ranges; but more particularly of the Himalaya or the New Zealand Alps. In regard to the latter, however, the expedition need not be an expensive one. The return passage from London to New Zealand by the big direct liners is not costly.
[Sidenote: Routes, etc.]
A good service is run by the New Zealand Shipping Company and the Shaw Savill & Albion Company. The voyage out is by the Cape of Good Hope and the return by Cape Horn. The return passages by the alternative and more interesting route between London and Lyttelton cost £132 first class and £75, 10s. second class. The British steamers on this route belong to the P. & O. Company and the Orient Company. The passage occupies about six weeks, but it can be shortened by a week by crossing the English Channel, taking train across France and joining the steamer at Marseilles.
The advantage of this route is that we are often within sight of interesting lands and call at quite a number of ports--Gibraltar, Marseilles, Port Said, Suez, Aden, Ceylon, Perth, Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney. At the southern end of the journey time can be saved by taking train from Adelaide to Melbourne, and thence a Union Company’s steamer to the Bluff, which is the southernmost port in New Zealand. The New Zealand steamers on this route may not, however, be considered so good as those running from Sydney to Auckland or Wellington, and the passage to the Bluff is generally a colder and more stormy one than that from Sydney in the more northern latitude. Besides, Sydney, with its charming harbour, is well worth seeing, and time can still be saved by taking train right through from Adelaide to Sydney. Still quicker though slightly more expensive routes are those across the Atlantic via San Francisco or Vancouver. A change of scene is provided by either of these routes, which avoid the heat of the Red Sea and the cold of the more southern route taken by the direct steamers. Another alternative would be to go East and return by the Western line, thus circumnavigating the globe; and variations in the latter route can be made by which Java, China and Japan can be visited. Yet a further choice will be opened up with the completion of the Panama Canal. My own preference would be to take a return ticket by P. & O. steamer between Marseilles and Adelaide, travel by train from the latter port to Sydney, and from Sydney proceed direct to Wellington, New Zealand, by one of the Union Company’s steamers. At Wellington full particulars regarding the charges en route to Mount Cook and the cost of guides and accommodation can be obtained from the Tourist Department or from the writer of this chapter, who will willingly place at the disposal of any climber any information and advice that he can give.
[Sidenote: Local Conditions, Guides, etc.]
At Mount Cook there is an accommodation house, under Government control, and all charges are reasonable. The best guides are servants of the Government. Their services, however, may not always be available when most wanted, and a man will do better, if he can afford it and desires it, to bring with him his own guide.
The ideal party would be one of three first-rate amateurs, or two amateurs and a good guide, used to both rock and ice work. It would be practically independent of local assistance, and ready to seize all opportunities of fine weather to do first-class climbs or new expeditions. The local guides would willingly co-operate with or advise such a party regarding local conditions, weather, routes, etc.
The weather in New Zealand, as in all mountainous countries, plays an important part in such expeditions, and the climber of high peaks will be well advised to keep his eye on the dreaded north-wester, which sweeps across the Pacific Ocean and assails the beetling crags and snowy summits of the great range with a force and fury which it is difficult successfully to combat.
Our mountains, though not so high as those of the European Alps, are practically the same height from a mountaineering point of view, because in New Zealand the snowline is so much lower and the ranges rise directly from lower elevations than they do in Switzerland. Our alpine chain seems to be more heavily glaciated and the rocks more friable than is the case in Europe. Our glaciers are certainly larger, and the moraines upon and beside them such as to tax the patience if not the endurance of the climber unused to them. The scenery is grand from the purely alpine point of view, but one used to Swiss mountains will miss the well-formed road, the fine hotels and the high mountain hut, to say nothing of the mountain railway, which we must hope may never become the vogue in New Zealand.
On the west coast the scenery is more varied than on the east, because of the forest that clothes the lower Alps; but the weather is wetter, and the dense vegetation often a bar or at least a hindrance to the attainment of a high bivouac. The difficulty is accentuated when one has to carry one’s own tent and provisions on one’s own back, although there is not nowadays the same difficulty in obtaining porters which the pioneers had to put up with. Such huts as there are, are low down in the valleys; and if new ground is to be broken, the expedition should come provided with its own tents and sleeping-bags, and be prepared often to spend the night under the more or less friendly shelter of some detached rock. To the mountaineer, however, the dispensing with such luxuries will only add to the joy of his new climbs and tend to make him more fully appreciate the luxuries of civilization when, with his peak in his pocket, he returns again to the lower altitudes. From the technical point of view the climbing is very much like what it is in Switzerland; but the strange climber would always do well to remember that the dangers from avalanches and falling rocks are not so accurately mapped out as they are in ranges that have been climbed by several generations of experienced mountaineers.
While the new field will certainly prove fascinating from the climber’s point of view, it is also worth remembering that it abounds in objects of interest to the geologist, the botanist and the zoologist. The glaciers are among the largest and most interesting in the world; the flora is of the most diversified character; and the fauna, though limited, is curious.
[Sidenote: Topography and Structure.]
Large as the glacier system is at the present day, it is small as compared with the extent of the glaciers which descended far down the plains in the Pleistocene period. The greatest accumulation of ice and snow lies at the head of the Tasman and Murchison glaciers, on the eastern side of the main range of the Alps. The Mueller, the Hooker and the Godley glaciers, on the same side, are, however, likewise of large extent; while on the western side of the Mount Cook Range there are other glaciers of large size, one of which--the Franz Josef glacier--descends to within about 600 feet of the sea, and has beautiful tree-ferns, and a vegetation which appears almost semi-tropical, growing within a few yards of its terminal face.
One peculiar feature of the Southern Alps is the absence of any number of low sub-alpine passes over the main range. The principal low passes are the Haast Pass, leading from Lake Wanaka to the west coast; the Hurunui Pass, dividing the sources of the river of that name; and Arthur’s Pass, over 3000 feet high, across which the coach runs through the wonderful scenery of the Otira Gorge to Hokitika and Greymouth. The first point to be noticed in regard to the central chain is that it does not present an unbroken line of watershed, but rather a series of peaks and broken ridges, separated from each other by deep ravines, and for the most part not easy of access. The clue to this system of ravines and ridges is to be found in the fact that the Palæozoic rocks forming the main range have been at a very early period subjected to extensive pressure, the effect of which has been to crumple them up into huge folds, the upper portions of which have been removed, leaving the remaining portions of the strata standing up on edge, either in a vertical position or at very steep inclinations. The strike of the beds differs from the general direction of the dividing range by 33°. The rule which has been found to prevail in other mountain chains of similar formation appears also to hold good in the central chain--viz., that the greatest amount of denudation has taken place along the original ridges, which are now occupied by valleys, whilst the existing peaks and ridges are on the sites of former depressions.
The next feature to be noticed is the jointed structure of the rocks. Although the joints cross each other in all directions, apparently without order, there are two prevailing systems of joints which have an important influence on the configuration of the surface. These are: First, a system of vertical cross-joints at right angles to the stratification, and running in unbroken lines for great distances, with such regularity that they might easily be mistaken for planes of stratification were it not for the frequent occurrence of beds of trap-rock, the outcrop of which marks unmistakably the true bedding; secondly, a system of joints, more or less inclined to the horizon, not running in parallel planes, but arranged in a series of curves radiating from a common centre.
The effect of this system of jointing, combined with the strike of the beds, or the direction of the axis of folding, is to produce two distinct systems of valleys in the central chain, the direction of which is very remarkable. The one radiates from a common centre, situated about fifty miles north of Mount Darien, in the sea near Cliffy Head. This system includes all the principal valleys from the Teremakau on the north to the Makarora on the south, their direction varying from N. 82° E. to S. 30° W., giving the idea that the country has been starred, just as a mirror is starred by a violent blow. To the other system belong the valleys of rivers and watercourses, running either on the strike of the beds, or in the direction of the cross-joints, or in a zigzag course, following alternately these two directions and giving to the cliffs which bound these valleys a peculiar rectangular appearance, resembling ruined masonry on a gigantic scale.
The western slope and part of the central chain consist of crystalline rocks and metamorphic schists resting on a basis of granite, that presents itself here and there to the view in the rugged bluffs and declivities on the west coast. To the eastward of the crystalline zone stratified sedimentary rocks appear, such as slates, sandstones, conglomerates and indurated shales. These compose the greater part of the eastern side of the central chain, exhibiting everywhere huge foldings. The extensive development of limestones such as are peculiar to the European Alps is totally lacking, and it is easily seen that only the eastern half of a complete mountain system has been preserved, while the western half is buried in the depth of the main.
[Sidenote: Flora and Fauna.]
At Mount Cook the botanist has a splendid field before him. The alpine and sub-alpine flora is of the most beautiful and diversified character, and to the traveller making his first visit from Australia or the Northern Hemisphere it will also have the charm of novelty. Among the shrubs there is considerable variety, and many of the bushes are during the autumn laden with prettily coloured berries. Among the larger trees a variety of beech is most prominent. The pretty green foliage of the broadleaf is also conspicuous, and a number of the Coniferæ. But it is probably among the herbaceous plants that the botanist will delight most to linger.
On Mount Torlesse, in the lower and more eastern range, Dr. von Haast, during his early explorations, collected over two hundred flowering plants, over thirty of which were new to science, and even in these later years new discoveries are still being made.
Splendid herds of red deer inhabit the heights and vales of the lesser Alps, so that after the mountaineer has bagged his peaks he can change his ice-axe for his rifle and bag a few fine heads as well. Recently chamois have been successfully acclimatized in the Mount Cook region, while elk and moose have been liberated in other localities. In the rivers of both the North and the South Island there are fish that will make the rods bend and the reels give to some purpose.
The birds of the alpine and sub-alpine regions are especially interesting. The kiwi and the kakapo, those strange flightless birds of the South and West, will prove a novelty to the explorer from northern climes; while the inquisitive friendly weka, with his rudimentary wings, and the curious kea, who digs into the loins of the living sheep with his powerful hooked beak to make a meal of the kidney fat, will be a never-failing source of interest to the traveller, who will find the former a thief and the latter rather a noisy companion whilst he is endeavouring to seek repose in one or other of the iron-roofed mountain huts. Wood-pigeons and a bush parrot known as the kaka are also to be found, and, in unexplored country, may make a welcome addition to the larder. A native thrush, two species of cuckoo that come down from the equatorial islands, wrens and fly-catchers are also met with; while the tui and the bell bird sometimes fill the woods with glorious song. In a chapter on mountains there is not space to do them all justice; but anyone who is specially interested in that strange bird, the kea, will find his habits and his character more fully described in my recently published book, A Climber in New Zealand.
[Sidenote: Glaciers.]
The following table, showing comparative sizes of the Canterbury or east coast glaciers compiled by Mr. T. N. Brodrick of the New Zealand Government Survey Department, will give some idea of the extent of the glaciation and prove interesting to anyone contemplating a mountaineering expedition to the Southern Alps:
TABLE SHOWING COMPARATIVE SIZES OF THE CANTERBURY GLACIERS
+---------+--------+------------+---------+-----------+--------+---------+ | Name. |Area of | Area of |Length of| Average |Greatest|Narrowest| | |Glacier.|Country from| Glacier.| Width. | Width. | Width. | | | |which Supply| | | | | | | | of Ice is | | | | | | | | drawn.[35] | | | | | +---------+--------+------------+---------+-----------+--------+---------+ | | Acres. | Acres. | Mls. Cs.|Mls. Cs. |Mls. Cs.|Mls. Cs.| |Tasman |13,664 | 25,000 | 18 0| 1 15 | 2 14| 0 60| |Murchison| 5,800 | 14,000 | 10 70| 0 66-7/10| 1 5| 0 42| |Godley | 5,312 | 10,560 | 8 0| 1 3 | 1 55| 0 58| |Mueller | 3,200 | 7,740 | 8 0| 0 50 | 0 61| 0 37| |Hooker | 2,416 | 4,112 | 7 25| 0 41-3/10| 0 54| 0 30| |Classen | 1,707 | 3,972 | 4 70| 0 43¾ | 0 73| 0 21| +---------+--------+------------+---------+-----------+--------+---------+
First-class mountains in the New Zealand Alps may be said to range in height from 10,000 feet to 12,347 feet, which latter is the height of Mount Cook. All the mountains of 10,000 feet and over have now been climbed; but there is much interesting work yet to be done in connection with new routes and high pinnacles and passes on the main range, while there are still many untrodden peaks of the second class scattered over a wide extent of explored and unexplored country. In short, there is in New Zealand work for generations of climbers yet to do.
FOOTNOTES:
[35] This is not the whole watershed, but only that portion on which the névé snow lies.
XVIII. THE PYRENEES
BY CLAUDE ELLIOTT
The claims of the Pyrenees on the alpine climber have been set forth with charm and vigour by Count Henry Russell and Mr. Packe, and yet they remain singularly neglected. Possibly it is the very ardour of their advocates that has betrayed their cause. For it is not as the rival of the Alps, but as a preparatory training-ground for the Alps or as a refuge from the cosmopolitan tourist, that the Pyrenees should be regarded. Let it be said at once that as a climbing-ground pure and simple there can be no comparison between the ranges. The biggest peak in the Pyrenees has a height of 11,160 feet; their glaciers are small--their total area is about 13 square miles--they do not flow down into the valleys, but as a rule are as broad as they are long; and the snowline is about 1000 feet higher than it is in Switzerland. The very lack of snow and ice at once renders the ordinary routes up the larger Pyrenean peaks infinitely more easy than the ordinary first-class alpine ascent.
Of course rock climbs of great difficulty can be found if search is made for them, but the normal routes up the rock peaks of reputation, such as the Fourcanade or the Pic du Midi d’Ossau, do not present difficulties approaching those, say, of the Chamonix Aiguilles.
The climbing on the whole resembles that of the western end of the Oberland or of Tyrol. With some exceptions the angles are not steep, the rock is inclined to be rotten, and the snow and ice work is easy. The mountains possess, however, a peculiar charm of their own, which is not nowadays to be found in the Alps, and is due to their solitude, their wildness, their freedom from the works of man. And this very desolation provides the Pyrenees with peculiar difficulties: there the mountaineer will find himself almost completely alone; there are few guides, few climbing parties, few huts, no good climbing centres, no good maps, and seldom any detailed descriptions of routes. He will have to be dependent on himself and himself only, and it is in this that their appeal and their value lie.
[Sidenote: General Topography and Structure.]
The portion of the Pyrenees which will most interest the mountaineer is that which lies between the Vallée d’Aspe immediately to the south of Pau, on the west, and the Val d’Aran, immediately beyond Luchon, on the east--a distance of some 70 miles. The structure is more complicated than appears at first sight, because the biggest peaks do not lie on the central frontier range, but on one side or the other, and because the subsidiary ridges often join the main range at very acute angles. The reason for this is that the lines of original folding lie at an acute angle to the general direction of the chain; M. Schrader has pointed out that “while the chain as a whole lies in the direction E. 9° S., this particular direction is not produced by a continuous line, but by a series of oblique folds whose direction is about E. 30° S.” The folds are of granite, schist or limestone, and thus provide a great variety of rock work.
The sketch overleaf only indicates general topography. Starting at the Vallée d’Aspe and proceeding eastwards, we find that the main frontier range is comparatively low, while the higher peaks are thrown out to the north, the chief being the Pic du Midi d’Ossau (9460 feet) above the village of Gabas, a fine double-peaked mountain of rotten granite and schist, the traverse of which makes an excellent climb. The main range, however, still keeping its schistous character, soon rises to over 10,000 feet in the Balaitous, which lies at the head of the Val d’Azun and provides good climbing. After this it maintains its high level, but it is overtopped by the Pic d’Enfer (10,200 feet), a granite mass immediately to the south and above the Baths of Panticosa in Spain. The frontier chain after passing the Pic d’Enfer culminates in the Vignemale (10,800 feet), a schistous peak with a fine glacier, and then bends south to the ice-covered limestone massif above the Cirque de Gavarnie, comprising the Taillon (10,300 feet) and the Marboré (10,600 feet), on the frontier, and Mount Perdu (10,900 feet) immediately to the south. A little farther eastwards it throws out a high rib, running into France and culminating in the Pic Long (10,400 feet). Continuing along the main range we find that it maintains its height, and though it never rises much above 10,000 feet it only twice falls below 8000, and then only by a few feet, till it reaches the Val d’Aran. The formation of this easterly portion is of granite, and provides a quantity of good rock climbing. The highest mountains, however, lie in two massifs on the Spanish side of this part of the range. The most westerly of these contains the Pic des Posets (11,040 feet), an interesting peak of granite and schist rising from an easy glacier, and the other is the massif of the Maladetta, culminating in the Pic de Néthou (11,160 feet), the highest summit of the Pyrenees, on whose flank lies the largest glacier of the range. The two massifs are separated from one another by the deep valley of the Esera, where Venasque is situated, which can be reached easily from Luchon, in France, by the mule-track over the Port de Venasque. Beyond the Port the main range is cut across by the Val d’Aran, running roughly west-north-west, which marks a line of geological folding. South of the Val d’Aran and east of the Maladetta group lies the Montarto massif (not to be confused with the Pic de Montarto d’Aran), a rocky ridge, rising out of a snow field on the east resembling a small glacier, of which the highest point is the Comolo Forno (c. 10,100 feet) and the most striking the Pic de Bécibéri, some 100 feet lower. Farther eastward and still south and east of the Val d’Aran, is an unusually wild and complex region of granite peaks, averaging 9500 feet, and innumerable small lakes, comprising the Cirques of Colomés, Sabouredo and the Sierra de los Encantados. The main frontier chain starts again beyond the Val d’Aran some miles to the northward, and though it still remains high and still forms one of the most remarkable mountain barriers in Europe, it contains no glacier and little perpetual snow, and on the whole the mountains are less steep. So from a purely technical point of view it is of comparatively small interest to the climber. But there are few people who would not enjoy visiting it, both because of the wildness and desolation of the country, and because hidden away in its recesses is the principality of Andorra, which lies immediately to the south of the watershed, some 40 miles beyond the Val d’Aran, and accessible without great difficulty from the railway at Ax in France.
It will be seen from this brief description that the range is an extended one, and that the larger peaks are far apart from one another. Moreover, there are few towns among the mountains, and the higher summits are separated from one another by difficult country. On the French side there are a certain number of good roads connecting the northward running valleys, but on the Spanish side there is often not even the faintest of paths. Also from the Val d’Ossau to Ax, 150 miles to the east, no large road actually crosses the main range, and even footpaths across are surprisingly rare. It follows, then, that the Pyrenees are not mountains for the climber who is fond of the comforts of life. A tent or sleeping-bag is absolutely necessary for their real appreciation.
[Sidenote: Centres.]
The only centres are Luchon and Gavarnie, but these are not good; the climbing round them is limited, and would soon be exhausted by a competent party, unless it were content with infinite small variations. Gavarnie (5000 feet) is easily reached from Paris via Bordeaux, Dax and Lourdes to Pierrefitte in under 24 hours; thence by a short electric railway to Luz, and finally by 12 miles of excellent road. It contains several good hotels, and in summer it is crowded with tourists. From here a number of interesting peaks can be climbed direct. Immediately to the south is the magnificent Cirque de Gavarnie, above which lies the frontier ridge rising to the points of the Gabiétou (10,000 feet), the Taillon (10,320 feet), the Casque, the Tour de Marboré (10,670 feet) and the Pic d’Astazou. From the Marboré a still higher ridge runs south-east, on which lie the Cylindre (10,900 feet), Mont Perdu (10,990 feet) and the Soum de Ramond (10,760 feet). The frontier peaks may all be climbed in a day from Gavarnie, and the energetic may traverse two or even three of them in the day.
The others also are not too far for a day’s excursion; but it may be found preferable to sleep in the Cabane de Gaulis, on the flank of the Perdu, or better still, to bivouac.
Hanging on these peaks is a mass of névé and broken glacier, allowing difficult variations to be made on the usual routes, which are easy; here alone, indeed, can glacier work of any difficulty be found. For instance, a route has been made up the Perdu from the north, which involves the ascent of an ice-fall. The rock work is not so satisfactory, but some really hard and interesting ascents have been made straight up these frontier peaks from the Cirque de Gavarnie.
Farther to the east we find first the Cirque d’Estaubé, and then the Cirque de Troumouse, facing north, and cut off from Gavarnie and from each other by subsidiary ridges.
Surrounding the Cirque d’Estaubé are ranged in order the Tuqueroye, the Pic de Pinède and other peaks, providing some difficult rock routes, and accessible in a day from Gavarnie. Above the Cirque de Troumouse is an interesting rock ridge, of which the chief point is the Pic de la Munia (10,300 feet). It is, however, rather far from Gavarnie, and many people will prefer to spend the night at the small but expensive inn at Héas before attacking it.
From near the Munia a ridge runs due north to the Pic Long. This mountain can be climbed by its glacier or by its sound granite rocks in a long day from Gavarnie, or the night can first be spent at Gédre, where also the inn is dear.
To the west of Gavarnie lies the Vignemale, which is ascended by a crevassed, but easy, glacier. Here again difficult climbing can be found if search is made; for instance, it has been ascended by a very difficult couloir on the north side.
Luchon (2000 feet) is even more easily reached than Gavarnie. Trains run direct from Paris via Toulouse and Montrejeau, and the whole journey from London should take just over 24 hours. It is altogether a larger town than Gavarnie, and is one of the fashionable watering-places of the Pyrenees. It has some good if expensive shops.
From here it is easy to attack the interesting granite peaks on the main range. Running southward, a little to the west of Luchon, is the Val d’Oo or d’Astau, enclosed by the Pic du Port d’Oo (10,300 feet), the Perdighero (10,500 feet), the Crabioules (10,200 feet) and the Quairat (10,000 feet). The ordinary routes up these can be accomplished in a longish day from Luchon, and are quite easy according to alpine standards. They may also be visited on the way to the Posets, which lie immediately to the south.
Immediately to the east of the Val d’Oo and nearer Luchon is the Vallée de Lys, which is dominated by the Pic de Quairat, the Crabioules, the Maupas (10,200 feet) and the Boum (10,000 feet), and the small glaciers on their flanks.
The ascents of these are again rather long from Luchon, but there is an inn some 3½ hours up the valley where the night may be spent.
Farther to the east, and running south-east from Luchon, is the Vallée de la Pique, which leads up to the Port de Venasque. The mountains round this valley are not so fine, and are mostly too easy to demand attention. One exception is the Pic de la Pique (c. 8000 feet), a small, sharp rock peak in the valley, with a great local reputation, but not really of serious difficulty.
These are the only peaks of interest in the immediate neighbourhood of Luchon. But by crossing the Port de Venasque (7900 feet), or preferably some more interesting col to the west, and sleeping out, the Maladetta group can easily be climbed. This massif faces the Port de Venasque, and consists of a somewhat amorphous base from which rise several granite ridges and summits--the Pic d’Albe (10,700 feet) on the west, then the Maladetta (10,800 feet) and the Néthou (11,160 feet), from which flow two large glaciers, then the Pic de Salenques, the Pic Moulières, and finally also the Fourcanade (9400 feet). At the foot of the Glacier du Néthou is a hut called the Rencluse. Most people would have preferred a bivouac to the old refuge there, but a new building has just been opened, and the track thereto from the Port de Venasque was in 1919 being marked with blazes of green paint (a unique phenomenon in the Pyrenees, at all events on the Spanish side).
The climbing on the Maladetta group is very easy on the whole. The glaciers are simple, and the rock, though rotten, is easy. The Fourcanade, a bold granite peak, more easily approached from Las Bordas or Viella in the Val d’Aran than from Luchon, presents no difficulty by the ordinary route from the south, but might afford some very interesting fancy routes on the precipitous northern side. The best climbing from Luchon lies on the main range, and the peaks here have not been so thoroughly explored as those round Gavarnie; indeed there is room for some most interesting new rock routes to be made. The rock again is granite, and is much sounder than the limestone of the Gavarnie peaks; and the main range provides some beautifully sound rock arêtes.
The mountains round Gavarnie and Luchon are not big, are grouped closely together, and the ascent of more than one can often be made in a moderately long day. Therefore a party which clings to civilization will soon exhaust the more important routes and be driven back on making minor variations. Yet there are no other centres worthy of the name. Of course there are places such as Cauterets, or the Baths of Panticosa in Spain, from which a few peaks can be ascended, but these can hardly be called centres. It follows, then, that a party which wishes for any quantity or variety of mountaineering proper must sleep either in inns or huts or must camp out, and inns are so rare and huts are so dirty that it will be forced to camp out if it is to see the most attractive parts of the range. For it is precisely the wildness and solitude of these parts, far from human habitation,--of the Posets, for instance, or the Balaitous, or the region east of the Maladetta group,--that mark off the Pyrenees from the Alps and give them a charm that is all their own. The wise climber will abandon centres and inns and move along the main range, sleeping out, climbing such peaks as attract him, and occasionally visiting some high village for the sake of renewing his food supplies.
This is the only way in which to see and appreciate the Pyrenees, and if the climber adopts it he will have to face problems very different from those of the Alps. Though the ascents will be far easier than those of first-class alpine peaks, yet the external help will be infinitely smaller. He will find the country a primitive one, and if he is to achieve success he must depend mainly on himself and little on professional or artificial aid.
[Sidenote: Guides.]
In the first place, little help can be obtained locally. At Gavarnie and Luchon there are a few capable men; but the majority of the class called guides in the Pyrenees are guides rather in the old sense of the word than in the newer sense of professional climbers. They are, of course, competent to show the way over the mountains from one place to another, and often even the easy routes up the peaks; sometimes they are good rock climbers. But of actual mountaineering, as a rule they know nothing. Most of them have little knowledge of snow craft or of the use of the rope--which they are apt to regard as a danger to themselves rather than as a safeguard to their party; and above all, they have nothing of the high tradition of the alpine guide. A guided party in the Pyrenees would save time below the snowline in getting across country; but, provided they had a little experience of the Alps and of English climbing, above the snowline they would usually be safer alone.
There is also in the more remote districts a class of men who offer themselves as guides, but in whom it would be unwise to put any trust for any purpose whatever, especially in the off season when the mountains are more than usually desolate.
Though brigandage is now extinct in the Pyrenees, there are still persons who will seize any chance of returning to a modified form of it. But even if we allow that some guides are better than others, the Pyrenees remain essentially mountains for the guideless, and if the climber takes a guide, he will lose half their charm while adding little to his own safety or achievements.
[Sidenote: Maps.]
Again, in Switzerland, the climber rightly puts implicit confidence in the accuracy of his maps even for minute detail. In the Pyrenees he is unable to do so. There are three maps of importance, and none of them approaches the excellence of the Siegfried map. The first is that issued by the French Ministère de l’Intérieur, and published by Hachette et Cie, in plain paper sheet. Its scale is small (1/100000), it has no contour lines, it is rather indistinctly printed, it makes little attempt to delineate accurately the higher mountains, and on the Spanish side it gives no more than a general indication of the geography of the country.
The map of the État-Major de la Guerre, which is on a larger scale (1/80000), formerly sold at 1 fr. 20 c. a sheet, is even worse; this also is not a contour map, and it stops entirely at the frontier, and leaves the Spanish side a complete blank. Its printing, moreover, is blurred and indistinct.
The third map is the most useful; it is drawn by M. Schrader, and issued by the Club Alpin Français, in 6 sheets, and covers only the High Pyrenees. It is absolutely essential for the Spanish side, and it is best for the French side also. Its scale is only 1/100000, and it is not quite so detailed as we might wish. But it gives the contours, and it is clearly printed. Unfortunately most, if not all, of the sheets are out of print and difficult to obtain.
Finally, there is said to be a Spanish military map of the High Pyrenees; whether it exists or not, it is unobtainable by the public.
The defects of these maps are felt even more in the valleys than in the high mountains. In climbing a peak in good weather comparatively little help is needed from a map; but the configuration of the higher valleys and gorges is such that for them a really good detailed map would be invaluable. They are often narrow, steep and heavily wooded; paths are few and very hard to find, or to keep to when found, and the existing maps give little accurate indication of them. In consequence, it is here that a guideless party has special difficulties, and these are increased by the prevalence of the cirque formation. The upper valleys are often cut into two parts by a horseshoe wall of rock, extending right across them from one side to the other, and thus consist of an upper and lower plane with a precipice between. In ascending a valley it is usually not difficult to see an easy way up these cirques, but in descending, when nothing can be seen between the immediate foreground and the valley below, it is often hard to tell where the line of least resistance lies. The map as a rule gives no clue, and a guideless party may have to make several attempts to find a feasible route. Thus it is really in the valleys, and especially in the Spanish valleys, where all difficulties seem to be accentuated, that the lack of a good map is most felt.
There is, however, a prospect that soon we shall be better equipped in this respect, as the publication of the Pyrenean sheets of the new French 1/50000 map is expected in the course of the next few years, and there is also talk of the issue of a 1/20000 map of the Gavarnie peaks. The reproduction of the 1/40000 manuscript map, which forms the basis of the 1/80000 État-Major map (France only), has also been discussed.
[Sidenote: Huts and Inns.]
Another respect in which the Pyrenees will be found more primitive than the Alps is in the absence of climbing huts. There are, indeed, huts in the Pyrenees in certain numbers, but they are shepherds’ huts, built of uncemented stones with no flooring, and as a rule so filthy that no civilized person would use them unless driven to it by great stress of weather. The majority of the huts marked on the maps are of this nature, and as they are liable to fall to pieces from time to time, here also the maps may become untrustworthy. (A special instance of this is the Cabane de Turmes, under the Pic des Posets; this is marked in the Schrader map, but has for some time ceased to exist.) There are, however, a very few climbing huts proper, especially near Luchon and Gavarnie, either kept by private individuals for profit, or erected by the C.A.F. on alpine lines.
Inns also are rarely to be found high up in the mountains; on the French side they are more common than on the Spanish, and they are also more likely to be good; in Spain they are sometimes fairly clean, but always very primitive, with a peculiar style of cooking, involving a lavish use of oil, which is extremely unpalatable to most Englishmen.
Probably the best inn in the high valleys on the Spanish side, except at the Baths of Panticosa, which are on a high road, is at the thermal establishment and shrine of Caldas de Bolis. It may be useful to mention this for those who wish to explore the region east of the Maladetta, as it finds no place in Joanne’s guide.
[Sidenote: Equipment.]
In these circumstances, huts and inns being both few and bad, a tent or a sleeping-bag is an absolute necessity in the Pyrenees. The latter is preferable for a party which wishes to be as free as possible; a tent is, of course, more comfortable, but it almost necessarily involves the taking of a mule, and the party will be at once restricted in its movements; the mule will be unable to traverse peaks, and more especially it will be unable to cross a large number of low cols which involve no serious climbing, but which would be too difficult for four legs. This means that the party would be able to cross the main range only at a few points, and in moving along the range it would often be forced down into the lower valleys. Again, in bad weather sleeping-bags are not such a disadvantage in the Pyrenees as elsewhere, for their limestone and schist tend to weather into caves, and if a bivouac is made near a cave or an overhang or a shepherds’ hut (and there will generally be little difficulty about finding one of these), shelter can at once be found in the event of storm.
On the other hand, a party travelling without porters or mules and sleeping out will find that it has a great weight to carry. The sleeping-bags ought to be thick, as it will often be necessary to bivouac at about 7000 feet, which is occasionally above the tree-level, and warmth at night is worth a few extra pounds. Below the tree-level it is easy to make a fire, but a large supply of wood must be collected, and some wakefulness is required to prevent the fire from going out in the small hours of the morning when the cold is greatest. For cooking it is usually best to use an aluminium cooker with methylated spirits. A large quantity of food must also be carried, especially on the Spanish side, where a human habitation may not be met with for four days on end. Occasionally a shepherd may be able to provide some cheese, or a limb of an izzard, the Pyrenean chamois; but a climbing party will have to rely mainly on the high villages for supplies, and these are few and far between. The French villages are more civilized, and will provide more luxurious food; but the Spanish villages are more worth visiting, the people are kindly, and at least the necessaries of life are obtainable. Usually they can provide coffee, chickens, sardines, eggs and, of course, bread. But jam, potted meats, compressed soups, etc., are better brought straight from England, though they can be bought as a rule at the larger towns on the French side. Chocolate is better bought on the French side, though generally obtainable on the Spanish. It is curious that cows are rarely kept in the high villages, and milk and butter are often unobtainable. On the Spanish side most people will prefer to drink water, as the wine has a peculiar taste; in France it is good, but rough. Streams, of course, are plentiful in the mountains. The natives carry their liquor in bags of goatskin, smooth on the outside and hairy inside; the hair imparts a very goaty taste to the contents, so it is wise to add an ordinary English metal water-bottle to one’s equipment. If one of the party is a fisherman, it would probably pay to take a rod and line, as many of the small lakes abound with trout. Some people carry with them rope-soled shoes, alpargatas, which are used by the natives for walking on the rough mule-paths and over grass. They are certainly light and restful for one’s feet, but it is doubtful whether they are worth their weight and bulk in one’s rucksack; for rock climbing they would be here of doubtful use.
The usual alpine clothing should be worn.
The valleys are very hot in summer, but the temperature and weather in the mountains are similar to those of Switzerland.
It is important to remember that often civilization is several days distant, and in consequence many extras must be taken. Most of these must be brought from England, as it is impossible to obtain real climbing equipment on the spot. It is quite essential to carry a first-aid case, including a few simple medicines, extra pairs of snow-glasses, an extra folding lantern, plenty of candles and matches, string, waterproof bags--sponge-bags do very well--to protect matches, maps, etc. A prismatic compass with a protractor and an aneroid will be found very useful for ascertaining the exact position of the party.
A passport should on no account be forgotten: the Customs officers and frontier police give little serious trouble, but occasionally they are apt to assert themselves, and in this case a passport has a most soothing influence upon them.
If no member of the party knows Spanish, a conversation book would be of use. A small knowledge of French is essential, and in each Spanish village there is usually some one who knows French and will act as interpreter. Still, it would save some trouble to be able to talk a little Spanish; since the war especially knowledge of French seems to have become rarer at some of the more remote Spanish inns. English, of course, is unknown except in the larger French towns. Basque would only be of use in the country west of the Vallée d’Aspe, where the range is lower.
It is clear, then, that each member of a party ought to have a rucksack of the largest size. His sleeping-bag, if he takes one, will fill most of it, and the rest will be taken up by his extra clothes or his share of food and equipment. In all, he will be carrying more than is usual in the Alps (probably between 20 and 25 lb.), but not too much to affect his enjoyment.
It is possibly a wise precaution for a party, starting out of condition, to hire a mule to convey their rucksacks--which will be at their heaviest at the start--as far as the first bivouac.
[Sidenote: Expense.]
One great advantage of a holiday spent in the Pyrenees is its cheapness. This is partially due to the fact that the climber will spend much of his time either in camp or else in small mountain inns, where the charges are quite moderate as a rule, the chief exceptions being the inns round the tourist centres, which tend to be extortionate. On the Spanish side the stranger ought to make a bargain with his host, who expects it of him as a matter of course. This is particularly necessary if the hire of a mule is in question.
In addition, the journey from England is not expensive; the pre-war return fare to any of the mountain termini ranged from £9 to £10 or £11 first class, and from £7 to £8 second class. Existing rates are perhaps 30 per cent or 40 per cent higher. Guides, if they are used, are also cheap, 10 to 15 francs a day with food was a normal wage before the war, though they would often demand more. Most mountains near any civilization have a fixed tariff; the bigger peaks as a rule run from 20 to 30 francs, with a few running to 40 francs (pre-war prices). Thus a party accustomed to the Alps will be surprised at the cheapness of a holiday spent in the Pyrenees, unless, indeed, it spends much time in the centres on the French side.
It is necessary to provide oneself with Spanish money for Spain. French money is not accepted as a rule. If considerable loss over exchange is to be avoided, it is desirable to obtain both French and Spanish notes before leaving England. English money can be changed, at a price, in the bigger French towns.
[Sidenote: Literature.]
Some knowledge of the literature of our mountains is almost essential to the success of a climbing tour, and there is no lack of books and articles on the subject. Baedeker’s South-Western France is, of course, good for the more civilized region, but makes no pretence at being a mountaineer’s guide. Joanne’s Pyrénées (Hachette et Cie, 1912, revised to 1914) is better, as it gives fairly detailed accounts of the principal climbs, and contains a good general introduction. Count Henry Russell’s Grandes Ascensions des Pyrénées (Hachette, 1866) and Souvenirs d’un Montagnard (Pau, 1888) are both of value; they describe all the more important routes, but the style is emotional rather than practical. Probably the climber will find Packe’s Guide to the Pyrenees (Longmans, 1867) of the greatest use; it is essentially a mountaineer’s guide, and restricts itself to the region between the Vallée d’Aspe and the Val d’Aran; its directions for climbing the peaks are of a practical nature, and often give as much detail as is necessary. Unfortunately it is out of print, and difficult to find. In addition to these guides we have an account of two climbing holidays, called Through the High Pyrenees (Innes, 1898), by H. Spender and H. Llewellyn Smith. This book gives a good picture of the country and of the type of climbing, and it contains an excellent appendix on the “Pyrenees as a Climbing Centre,” and an extremely useful bibliography, including a full list of the many papers on Pyrenean climbing to be found in past numbers of the Alpine Journal and the Annuaire of the C.A.F. It is in these journals, and especially in the latter, that the more difficult modern routes, accomplished since the publication of Packe’s guide, are recorded, and here we have a ready means of knowing in which volume to find them. Finally, Belloc’s Pyrenees makes interesting reading, but it is of more value to the walker than to the climber, and it contains some imaginative detail.
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From this short account it will be seen that the Pyrenees make no appeal to climbers who are only content with long and arduous peaks and difficult ice-work, or to those who prefer to climb from a comfortable hotel or a clean hut and who dislike attending in person to the troublesome details of bivouacking and cooking. But to the climber of moderate ambitions, who is weary of the clatter of Swiss hotels or the picnic-parties on Swiss peaks, there are no near mountains which offer so attractive a refuge. The novice, also, who has spent a few summers behind guides in the Alps will discover that one season of guideless climbing in the Pyrenees will infinitely increase his knowledge of mountaineering in the larger sense of the word; he will have experience of route-finding both in the valleys and on rock and glacier, of step-cutting, of using aneroid and compass and of camping, and he will return to the greater peaks with a heightened capacity for appreciating the mountains and their craft.