We had a long march that day from Tătsăng, and again crossing the ridges of the Donka La a very cold wind and sleet and rain overtook us. It was the last shot at us the typical Tibetan weather had, and considering the time of year it did its very best for us, but we camped that night under the Donka La at a great height, not far from 17,000 feet. While we were waiting for our luggage we took refuge in a Tibetan encampment. The Tibetans were out with their herds of yaks, grazing them over the hillsides. We were rather amused to find that they had guns in their encampment, which they evidently used for sporting purposes, and we thought regretfully of the limitations which had been put on our expedition.

Next morning we had a delightful march crossing the last and highest ridge of the Donka La and camped half-way to Phari, finally reaching Phari Dzong after a very pleasant morning’s ride over delightful green turf and passing immense flocks of sheep grazing on the hillsides.

Here, on July 20, we found a welcome post and spent the day in great comfort in the Phari Dzong bungalow. Two days later we reached Chumbi and met the Macdonalds again, and were, as usual, sumptuously entertained by them. Here our transport had to be reorganized to take our still rather large convoy down to India. Geoffrey and I climbed the neighbouring hills and really revelled in the whole journey down, which had been very reminiscent of the Western Himalaya in summer. Chumbi is wonderful; even in the rains the climate is delightful. It cannot have more than one-third of the rainfall which falls only 20 miles away on the other side of the Jelep: in fact, when two days later we crossed the Jelep, we were immediately involved again in the mists and rains and sleets, and were again in a completely and absolutely different type of country.

We arrived at Gnatong on July 27 in pouring rain, but next morning it had cleared, and on the way down as we started the clouds showed signs of really lifting. On arrival at the ridge over which the road crosses before beginning the long descent to Rongli Chu, about 400 feet above Gnatong, we were lucky enough to come in for one of those sudden breaks which occasionally occur during the monsoon, and if one is at the moment in a position to profit by them one obtains one of the most glorious sights to be found in this world. Such was our luck this morning. Standing on the ridge we were able to see the plains of India stretched out beneath us to the South, the plains of Kuch Behar with the Mahanadi River running through them quite clear, while on our right Kanchengjanga rose through the clouds—a perfectly marvellous vision of ice and snow, looking immeasurably high. The clouds were drifting and continually changing across the hillsides and the deep valleys. The extremely deep and, in places, sombre colour, the astonishingly brilliant colour where the sun lit up the mountains, and the prodigious heights, made a mountain vision which must be entirely unsurpassed in any other portion of the globe. It was a moment to live for; but the moment was all too short. In half an hour the vision of the plains and the mountains was completely blotted out.

At Lungtung we visited the little tea-shop where we had all collected, as we had promised the patroness on our way up. There she was again, full of smiles, with her family round her, and we all stayed there and drank hot tea, which we thoroughly enjoyed after the cold and driving mist, and the flow of chaff I think even surpassed that of our first visit. So exhilarated were we that Geoffrey and I ran at top speed down to Sedongchen, which is only 6,000 feet, tearing down the hillsides, and by so doing, although we occasionally took short cuts over grassy banks and through forest where it was not too thick, we arrived at Sedongchen, having entirely baffled the leeches which swarm in this part of the forest. Not so, however, Wakefield; he also had been exhilarated and had taken a short cut down, but he had been too trusting, and he arrived with his legs simply crawling with leeches.

The rest of our journey through Sikkim requires no particular comment, except that the weather behaved itself in a wonderful way, and we escaped any real heavy duckings. The heat, although considerable in the lower valleys and moist, was not at all oppressive. So much so that we were able to travel at a great pace down to Rongli bridge, which is only 700 feet above the sea.

We arrived in Darjeeling on August 2, every one by now in thoroughly good health. Here we were to await the arrival of Crawford and Somervell, who were making tremendous attempts, considering that it was the height of the monsoon, to see something of the South face of Kanchen, and even, if possible, to do a little climbing—a rather ambitious programme under the circumstances. Five or six days later they arrived, quite pleased with themselves and having had a very strenuous time, but naturally having seen a minimum of the country they travelled over. At Darjeeling the party rapidly broke up, although the Staff of the Expedition had about a fortnight’s work clearing up business matters, which included the proper provision for the families of the unfortunate porters who had been lost in the avalanche.

Thus ended the first attempt to climb Mount Everest. I think on the whole we may be quite satisfied with the results. It would have been almost unthinkable if a great mountain like Everest—the highest in the world, almost the greatest in scale as well—had yielded to the very first assault. After all, it took a very long time, many years in fact, to climb the easier of the great mountains of the Alps. It took many years to find the way, even, up the North face of the Matterhorn, a problem which would now only be considered one of the second class. How, then, could we expect on the very first occasion to solve all the different problems which are included in an assault on Everest? It is not merely a case of mountaineering, or of mountaineering skill, nor even of having a most highly-trained party; there are many other problems which we also have to consider. Our methods had almost to be those of an Arctic expedition; at the same time our clothing and outfit in many ways had to be suitable for mountain climbing. Our climbing season was extraordinarily short, far shorter than it would have been in any mountains in the West.

Not only that, but all the warnings of the scientists tended to show that no very great height could probably be reached without oxygen, and that even with an oxygen apparatus there were a great many dangers to be faced. Among other things we were told that having once put on the oxygen apparatus, and having once for any continuous period worked on an artificial supply of oxygen, the sudden cessation of that supply would certainly cause unconsciousness, and probably would cause death. Luckily for us this was proved not to be in accordance with actual practical experience, as the height reached by our climbing party which had not used oxygen was more than 2,000 feet higher than any point yet reached. For the Duke of Abruzzi, in his great attempt on the Bride Peak on the Baltoro Glacier in Baltistan, did not quite reach 24,600 feet. While Mallory, Somervell, and Norton reached 26,985 feet.

In the whole range of the mountains of the world there are only four peaks that top this great height, namely, Mount Everest itself, K² in the Karakorum in Baltistan; Broad Peak on the Baltoro Glacier, and Makalu in the Everest group. Therefore this climb stands actually as the fifth of the great altitudes of the world. It is a perfectly prodigious performance, and taken simply as a tour de force stands in the front rank in no matter what department of sport or human endeavour. The men who took part in this climb have every reason to be proud of themselves.

As I have pointed out, Finch and Geoffrey Bruce, using oxygen, took a route traversing the face of the mountain to the West, and before they were completely played out and conditions were such that they had to return, reached a height of 27,235 feet. If they had directly mounted up the ridge they would undoubtedly have reached the point on the main Everest crest which is marked at 27,390 and have progressed along it to a greater altitude. There is no doubt in my mind whatever of this: not only would their route have been far more direct, but the actual ground over which they would have to climb would have been easier. It is quite certain that with the same exertions on the same day they could have reached a higher point than they did. That does not, however, in the least detract from their performance. Their experiences, as has been pointed out by Finch, ease the oxygen question immensely. It was shown that it was quite possible to remove the oxygen apparatus altogether, having used it fully and having reached a height of 25,500 feet, nor was the accident to Geoffrey’s apparatus attended with any of the terrible consequences which we were led to expect. These conclusions are all very satisfactory from the point of view of our final success in climbing Everest. There is no doubt that the height will be attained provided the very best men, the best apparatus, and an outfit of porters equally as good as our own, attempt it. And there are plenty of men to draw from for porters. We could probably obtain without difficulty a team as good, or better. Of that I am quite certain.

It was pretty evident that one of the secrets of living with immunity high up is that the actual clothes on the men’s backs should be as light as possible and as windproof as possible. Proper protection should be taken against the wind for the head also, and the greatest care must be taken and the necessity for care be understood by everybody in the protection of their hands and feet. It is quite possible that with a little more care we might have escaped this year without any serious consequences from that point of view.

These remarks apply equally to the outfit for the porters. Men who worked with so little experience, and took camps for us to a height of 25,500 feet, would, if correctly outfitted, take the camp 500 to 1,000 feet higher: of that I am quite convinced. An improved and lighter oxygen apparatus is under construction; when this has been completed I have every reason to believe that an oxygen depôt could be well established at 26,000 feet, thus allowing a full time for the attempt on the greater heights. This year there was always at the back of the oxygen-carriers’ minds a slight doubt that their oxygen might give out and that the consequences to them would be most unpleasant.

Another problem that must always be borne in mind when one’s object is the assault of a great mountain in the Himalaya, is to bring one’s whole party there in first-class health and training. This sounds an unnecessary remark to have to make, but as a matter of fact the task is not as easy as it appears. The great danger lies in fatiguing and exhausting one’s party before the real test comes. This year there was great danger of our working the porters out, and this question gave me a good deal of anxiety. But they were all absolute gluttons for work, and I never would have believed that men could have carried out such tremendous hard labour in establishing our high camps and apparently continuing fit and well, showing no signs of staleness and quite ready to continue up the mountain.

Before we left Darjeeling I forwarded to the Dalai Lama, on behalf of the Mount Everest Committee, a letter of thanks for all the assistance which he had given to our Expedition, and sent with it, for him and for the Tashilumpo Lama also, a silk banner on which was printed a coloured picture of the Potālā, the great palace of the Dalai Lamas in Lhasa.