on it, and immediately felt a bit better. After a few seconds’ rest I would see the absurdity of the situation: how could I possibly give up with only a few more yards to climb? I would pick out another rock, drag myself up off the first, and take a few steps – to myself it was as though I were racing along, but actually I was going extremely slowly, and I threw myself down the moment I reached my successive objectives. Yard by yard I gained height, and presently there remained only two hundred yards to the camp, which was just not visible from this point.
I tried to call out, but no sound came from my throat. It was difficult to stand up without wobbling; it was safer and easier down on all fours. My head swam, and I wanted to sleep. Then, mustering my last ounce of strength, I threw myself heavily down on a rock on the ridge. Time slipped by. When finally I opened my eyes it seemed as though a century had passed; I raised my head above the ridge. There was the camp, barely twenty yards away! In vain I tried to attract somebody’s attention, but the coolies were chatting quietly round a good fire. If only they could see me! If only one of them would turn his head! I dropped some stones in the hope of making them look up, but they didn’t hear, and I couldn’t call them. My head was like lead and my ears were buzzing.
Now that I was certain of getting there, I gritted my teeth fiercely and managed to crawl along on all fours like an animal. Suddenly Phutharkay turned round.
‘Bara Sahib!’
Quite thunderstruck, he watched me crawling along. Then everyone got up and came running towards me. I was saved!
They laid me down, trembling all over, on an air mattress. I drank, and ate a little, and learned that Ichac had not yet returned, but that he wouldn’t be long. I asked them to get a meal ready for me. With the assistance of the porters, Phutharkay opened an impressive number of tins. The fire burned merrily and the capacious cooking-pots began to simmer, giving out such an appetizing smell that to control myself I had to remain motionless and half asleep.
When the meal was ready, I began to eat straight out of the pots, which was not at all what Phutharkay was expecting – he had been cooking for the whole camp! For over an hour-and-a-half, without stopping, delightedly, and at high speed, I consumed the biggest meal of my life. I was like the snake who swallowed a fat sheep in the dream of the Little Prince, in St Exupéry’s story. I settled back in my sleeping-bag with relief.
‘Hullo, Maurice, good morning!’
I pulled myself together.
‘Matha!’
‘We’ve just come down from a peak of over 20,000 feet!’
We exchanged news. Everything fitted in with Ichac’s deductions and confirmed them, and the whole northern side of the Annapurna massif had been explored.
‘There’s no question of it,’ I told him. ‘The key to Annapurna lies in the south, along the route that Couzy, Oudot and Schatz took on April 27th, up the Miristi Khola.’
‘So there’s nothing more for us to do here,’ concluded Ichac. ‘We must get back quickly to Tukucha.’
Next day we packed up. The porters were delighted to be leaving this spot where they had spent three days completely cut off and with nothing to do, and there was no need to hurry them on or show them the route. In a few minutes the loads were made up and allotted , and while Ichac and I set out, still talking, the porters went off quickly under the supervision of Angtharkay who led them straight towards the Great Ice Lake. This time, without any fuss, they traversed its entire length.
In three days the snow which had formerly covered the ridge leading to the West Tilicho had melted. At the pass, we paused a little to look at the Great Ice Lake, the immense amphitheatre surrounding it, and above all at the remarkable Great Barrier. Never should we see it all again. We ran down the hillside and came out on to the lower slopes in the middle of a
I tried to call out, but no sound came from my throat. It was difficult to stand up without wobbling; it was safer and easier down on all fours. My head swam, and I wanted to sleep. Then, mustering my last ounce of strength, I threw myself heavily down on a rock on the ridge. Time slipped by. When finally I opened my eyes it seemed as though a century had passed; I raised my head above the ridge. There was the camp, barely twenty yards away! In vain I tried to attract somebody’s attention, but the coolies were chatting quietly round a good fire. If only they could see me! If only one of them would turn his head! I dropped some stones in the hope of making them look up, but they didn’t hear, and I couldn’t call them. My head was like lead and my ears were buzzing.
Now that I was certain of getting there, I gritted my teeth fiercely and managed to crawl along on all fours like an animal. Suddenly Phutharkay turned round.
‘Bara Sahib!’
Quite thunderstruck, he watched me crawling along. Then everyone got up and came running towards me. I was saved!
They laid me down, trembling all over, on an air mattress. I drank, and ate a little, and learned that Ichac had not yet returned, but that he wouldn’t be long. I asked them to get a meal ready for me. With the assistance of the porters, Phutharkay opened an impressive number of tins. The fire burned merrily and the capacious cooking-pots began to simmer, giving out such an appetizing smell that to control myself I had to remain motionless and half asleep.
When the meal was ready, I began to eat straight out of the pots, which was not at all what Phutharkay was expecting – he had been cooking for the whole camp! For over an hour-and-a-half, without stopping, delightedly, and at high speed, I consumed the biggest meal of my life. I was like the snake who swallowed a fat sheep in the dream of the Little Prince, in St Exupéry’s story. I settled back in my sleeping-bag with relief.
‘Hullo, Maurice, good morning!’
I pulled myself together.
‘Matha!’
‘We’ve just come down from a peak of over 20,000 feet!’
We exchanged news. Everything fitted in with Ichac’s deductions and confirmed them, and the whole northern side of the Annapurna massif had been explored.
‘There’s no question of it,’ I told him. ‘The key to Annapurna lies in the south, along the route that Couzy, Oudot and Schatz took on April 27th, up the Miristi Khola.’
‘So there’s nothing more for us to do here,’ concluded Ichac. ‘We must get back quickly to Tukucha.’
Next day we packed up. The porters were delighted to be leaving this spot where they had spent three days completely cut off and with nothing to do, and there was no need to hurry them on or show them the route. In a few minutes the loads were made up and allotted , and while Ichac and I set out, still talking, the porters went off quickly under the supervision of Angtharkay who led them straight towards the Great Ice Lake. This time, without any fuss, they traversed its entire length.
In three days the snow which had formerly covered the ridge leading to the West Tilicho had melted. At the pass, we paused a little to look at the Great Ice Lake, the immense amphitheatre surrounding it, and above all at the remarkable Great Barrier. Never should we see it all again. We ran down the hillside and came out on to the lower slopes in the middle of a
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