JUMPING A CREVASSE

Then we came to the two big crevasses and we steadied our train. Very seriously we crept down the toe holds. K. reached the gulf and jumped. Then I slipped and went shooting by T., headed for the crevasse. T. having already been almost dislodged by the long jump that K. made, jumped after me. The guide could have stopped my slide, but he couldn't or didn't stop us both, for he knew (what all this time we did not know) that the slope curved outward just enough to send us clear of the crevasse. So he jumped after us and we all three landed in a heap across the opening—all of us safe and two of us badly frightened.

At the second crevasse, toe holds still to approach the ladder—and no curve in the slope to clear the hole under it. Even the guide went cautiously. We all braced ourselves in foot holds and let our rope out to its full length—ordinarily we kept half of it coiled in one hand so that in case the next man slipped we would have sufficient time to brace ourselves before the pull came. K. was let down, all three of us holding the rope. Then the guide went by me in order to let T. down, for there was not enough rope left for us both to hold it from above. There I was the anchor man on whom the fate of the party depended. If the guide should slip I would have to hold him, and if I should slip there wasn't anybody! All the while I had to keep descending as T. kept going down with the rope. At last he was down. I was getting near the ladder and the guide climbed back by me to let me down. The tightening of the rope under my arms as I made the ladder was a fine sensation.