The Epic of Mount Everest

CHAPTER I

THE IDEA

That Mount Everest is the highest mountain in the world, and 29,002 feet in height, everybody knows. And most people know also that in attempting to climb the mountain two Englishmen lost their lives; that these two, Mallory and Irvine, were last seen going strong for the top; and that the top being only 800 feet away they must have very nearly, perhaps actually, reached it.

How this was done; and how Norton, without oxygen, reached an altitude of 28,100 feet, and his companion, Somervell, scarcely a hundred feet less; how Odell, also without oxygen, twice reached a height of 27,000 feet, and might well have reached the summit itself if more porters had been available; how these feats were made possible by Himalayan porters carrying loads to nearly 27,000 feet; and how all this was done after the Expedition had suffered from a blizzard of exceptional severity and cold as low as 24° below zero at an altitude of 21,000 feet, and, most remarkable of all, after Norton, Somervell and Mallory had been drained of the best part of their resources through having to turn back and rescue four Himalayan porters marooned on a glacier at 23,000 feet; is the story now to be told.

And first as to the idea these men had in their minds—the idea of climbing Mount Everest.

When we see a hill we are sooner or later driven to try and get to the top of it. We cannot let it stand there for ever without our scrambling up it. Partly this is because we would like to see the view from the top. But more especially is it because the hill presents a challenge to us. We must match ourselves against it and show that we can get to the top—show ourselves and show our neighbours. We like to show ourselves off—display our prowess. It is an exertion to get to the top, but we enjoy making it. We are doing something that makes us proud of ourselves and gives us inner satisfaction.

But when we first look at Mount Everest it is a very different proposition. To get to the top of that we never dream. It is right up in the skies—far beyond human reach. So it seems to us. And hundreds of millions of Indians have through the ages looked up at the great Himalayan peaks and not dared to think of climbing even the minor giants, much less the monarch of them all. They will patiently suffer most terrible hardships in travelling thinly clad from the hot plains of India to some place of pilgrimage by a glacier in the Himalaya. Of sheer suffering they will endure as much as any Everest climber. But even the idea of climbing the great peaks never comes into their heads. Not even to those hardy people who spend their whole lives in the mountains has it come. That they have the physical capacity to get to the top of the very highest is proved by the fact they carried loads to nearly 27,000 feet in 1924. And if they could carry a load to that height presumably they could go unloaded to 29,000 feet. Still the idea of climbing Mount Everest they have never entertained.

How then is it that islanders from the North Sea should have thought of such a thing? Far back we owe the inspiration to the Swiss and Italians. The Alpine peaks are only about half the height of the Himalayan giants. But even they had been looked on with dread and horror till at the end of the eighteenth century the Swiss De Saussure and the Italian Placidus à Spescha tackled their highest summits. The climbers groaned and puffed and panted and suffered from headaches and sickness. Still they attained the summit. And once the highest mountain in the Alps had been conquered the lesser peaks also fell. And soon we English were following in De Saussure’s steps. Through all last century we were engaged in conquering the Alps. And when they were well subdued we turned to higher game. Douglas Freshfield climbed the highest peak in the Caucasus. And Vines and Martin Conway the highest in the Andes. Italians also joined in the struggle. The Duke of the Abruzzi climbed Ruwenzori in East Africa and Mount St. Elias in Alaska.

Ambition grew with success. The Alps, the Caucasus and the Andes had been conquered. And men were already turning their thoughts to the great Himalaya. The brothers Schlagintweit climbed to 22,260 feet on Kamet. Officers of the Survey of India, in the course of their duties, were brought among the great peaks and in their records are statements that J. S. Pocock climbed to 22,000 feet in Garhwal in 1874, and others climbed to considerable heights to determine the position of prominent peaks.

The main attack on the great peaks has, however, been made by men from Europe trained in the technique of mountain craft which has gradually developed in Alpine climbing. They came from nearly every European country, as well as from America. Graham, in 1883, claims to have reached an altitude of 23,185 feet. Sir Martin Conway pioneered the way among the Karakoram giants of the Baltoro Glacier. The Swiss, Dr. Jacot Guillarmod, explored in the same region. The Americans, Dr. and Mrs. Bullock Workman, attained a height of 23,400 feet. Dr. Longstaff reached the summit of Trisul, 23,406 feet. Douglas Freshfield explored Kangchenjunga.

Then came the most serious and best organized effort to ascertain to what altitude it was possible for man to ascend on a mountain. For it is not the physical obstacle which a mountain presents—rocky precipices or snow and ice—that stands in the way of man’s reaching the highest summits of the Himalaya. In the Alps, where the actual climbing is just as hard as any in the Himalaya, man has been able to overcome every obstacle of that kind. He ascends the most appalling precipices and crags and finds his way up the most forbidding ice cliffs. Nor is the cold of the Himalaya the deterrent: man has withstood much severer cold in the Polar regions. The real obstacle is the want of oxygen in the air at high altitudes. The air grows thinner and thinner the higher we ascend. And as it grows thinner the less oxygen in it is there. And oxygen is one of the substances on which man depends for his minute by minute bodily sustenance. The question, then, which the Italian expedition under the Duke of the Abruzzi came out to determine, was to what height in this thin air, so deficient in oxygen, man could ascend on a mountain-side by his own unaided efforts. This was in 1909, and owing to the difficulty at that time in obtaining permission from either the Government of Nepal or Tibet, between which countries Mount Everest is situated, it was not possible for the Duke to make his experiment on that mountain. He selected therefore the next highest, namely K2, in the Karakoram Himalaya, which is 28,278 feet in height. And this peak proving an impracticable mountain he climbed another, Bride Peak, to an altitude of 24,600 feet and would certainly have reached higher but for the mist and snowstorms.

Man was thus steadily marching to dominion over the mountain, and already the idea of climbing Mount Everest itself had been forming itself in his mind. As far back as 1893, Captain (now Brigadier-General) Hon. C. G. Bruce had thought of it. He had been with Sir Martin Conway in the Karakoram Himalaya and when employed in Chitral suggested the idea. But the opportunity for carrying it out never occurred. Many years later Lord Curzon, when Viceroy of India, made a proposal to Mr. Douglas Freshfield that the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club should join in organizing an expedition to Mount Everest, if he, Lord Curzon, could obtain permission from the Nepal Government to send the expedition through Nepal. This permission, however, was not forthcoming, so nothing came of Lord Curzon’s proposal. The Nepalese are a very seclusive people, but as they have been for many years friendly to the British the Government of India humour them in their desire to be left to themselves.

When Mr. Freshfield, who had already been President of the Alpine Club, became President of the Royal Geographical Society, he undoubtedly would have taken up an idea so congenial to him as organizing a Mount Everest Expedition. But it so happened that his period of office fell during the War. After the War the idea was revived by Captain Noel, who had made a reconnaissance into Tibet in the direction of the mountain in 1913 at a time when the late Brig.-General Rawling was also cherishing the hope of at least reconnoitring Everest. And when the present writer became President of the Royal Geographical Society in 1920 the time seemed ripe for bringing the idea of climbing Mount Everest into effect. He had spent many years in the Himalaya and had been in Tibet itself. He therefore knew the local conditions. And with the resources of a big Society much could be done that was difficult for single individuals, or for small parties of three or four, like those which climb in the Alps.

Meanwhile, there had been a great development in another direction. Actually while the Duke was climbing in the Himalaya, Bleriot was flying across the Channel. And the Great War gave a tremendous impetus to aeroplane construction. As a result men were now able to fly higher even than the top of Mount Everest. The question how high men could ascend seemed therefore to be a matter more for the airman than the mountaineer; and the former had already beaten the latter. Why then take the trouble to climb Mount Everest which would prove nothing but what had already been proved?

The reply is that the two problems differ entirely. The airman sits in his machine and sucks oxygen and the machine carries him upward. He needs skill and nerve of course to fly the machine properly. Still, he is carried up by the machine. He does not carry himself up. And he can have plenty of oxygen beside him to make up for the deficiency in the atmosphere The climber has to rise on his own steam. He has to keep to the earth’s surface. And what we want to know is if there is any part of the earth’s surface so high that he cannot by his own unaided effort reach it. So we select the highest mountain and make our experiment on that.

Some people indeed do ask what all this pother is about. If you want to get to the top of Mount Everest why not get an aeroplane to dump you down there? A similar question might be asked of a University crew. If they want to get from Putney to Mortlake why not go in a motor-boat: they would reach there much quicker and more comfortably than by rowing themselves there in a boat. Or the runner in a mile race might be asked why he did not call a taxi-cab.

Man means to climb Mount Everest—climb it on his own feet. That is the whole point. Only so does he get that pride in his prowess which is such a satisfaction to his soul. Life would be a poor affair if we relied always on the machine. We are too prone already to trust to science and mechanics instead of exerting our own bodies and our own spirit. And we thereby miss much of that enjoyment in life which exercising our faculties to the full brings with it.

And so we come back to the point from which we started. This determination to climb Mount Everest has grown out of the ordinary impulse men have to climb the hill in their neighbourhood. In the case of Mount Everest a mightier effort is required, but the impulse to make it is of the same origin. Indeed, the struggle with Everest is all part and parcel of the perpetual struggle of spirit to establish its supremacy over matter. Man, the spiritual, means to make himself supreme over even the mightiest of what is material.

Both man and mountain have emerged from the same original Earth and therefore have something in common between them. But the mountain is the lower in the scale of being, however massive and impressive in outward appearance. And man, the punier in appearance but the greater in reality, has that within him which will not let him rest until he has planted his foot on the topmost summit of the highest embodiment of the lower. He will not be daunted by bulk. The mountain may be high. But he will show that his spirit is higher. And he will not be content until he has it in subjection under his feet.

This is the secret in the heart of the idea of climbing Mount Everest.

And in proving his powers man would find that joy which their exercise ever gives.

CHAPTER II

PREPARATION

The idea of climbing Mount Everest had thus entered into men’s minds and was slowly spreading there and penetrating deeper. Men were no longer content with idly contemplating the mountain from a distance. They must be up and grappling with it. The time for action had arrived. And how the idea was put into execution is the story now to be told. It necessarily divides itself into three phases. First there is the phase when the mountain had to be prospected carefully; for no one yet—no European—had been within 40 miles of it. This was the reconnaissance phase. Then, a practical way up having been discovered by Mallory, came the actual attempt to reach the summit—an attempt which did not succeed—but which showed that men could climb to 27,000 feet. Lastly, came the second attempt which ended so tragically but in which men, with no adventitious aid, climbed to 28,100 feet.

These are the three phases of the high adventure; and it is with the first that we will now deal.

Before any great idea can be put into execution there are usually a number of preliminary barriers which have to be removed. In this case the first barriers were human. The Nepalese barred the way to Mount Everest from the south. The Tibetans had hitherto barred it on the north. Could the reluctance of the latter to admit strangers be overcome? That was the first matter to be tackled. It was a question of diplomacy and that art had to be exercised before an expedition could be launched.

A deputation composed of members of the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club waited on the Secretary of State for India to acquaint him with the importance which the two bodies attached to the project and to enlist his sympathy. Should that sympathy be forthcoming, and he have no objection to an Everest Expedition being sent to Tibet, provided the sanction of the Government of India and the Tibetan Government were obtained, the two Societies proposed inviting Colonel Howard Bury to proceed to India to negotiate the matter with the Government of India. This was the representation that was made to him.

By a strange coincidence the deputation (which was headed by the President of the Royal Geographical Society) was received by Lord Sinha, who was then Under-Secretary of State. He was a Bengali, from whose native Province Mount Everest can be seen. Perhaps he himself was not particularly enthusiastic about the scheme. But speaking as the mouthpiece of the Secretary of State he said that no objection would be raised by the India Office.

This was one barrier out of the way. And it might have been insuperable. For a previous Secretary of State had raised objections to Englishmen travelling in Tibet. He held the view that travellers caused trouble and should be discouraged.

To remove the next barrier Colonel Howard Bury was dispatched to India. He was an officer of the 60th Rifles who after service in the Great War had just retired. Before the War he had served in India and been on shooting expeditions in the Himalaya. And being interested in the Everest project put himself at the disposal of the Royal Geographical Society. He proved an excellent ambassador. He inspired Lord Chelmsford, the Viceroy, and Lord Rawlinson, the Commander-in-Chief, with enthusiasm for the idea, and he got a promise of their support if the local agent, Mr. Bell, should think the Tibetans would raise no objection. Colonel Howard Bury then proceeded to Sikkim and saw Mr. Bell and got him also interested. And, fortunately, Mr. (now Sir Charles) Bell had great influence with the Tibetans. The result was that by the end of 1920 news came to London that the Tibetan Government had granted permission for an Expedition to proceed to Mount Everest in the following year.

Diplomacy having achieved its object and human obstacles being overcome it was possible to go full steam ahead organizing an Expedition. And climbing Mount Everest was a matter which interested both the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club. It interested the former because the Society will not admit that there is any spot on the earth’s surface on which man should not at least try to set his foot. And it interested the latter because climbing mountains is their especial province. It was decided, therefore, to make the Expedition a joint effort of the two societies. And this was the more desirable because the Geographical Society had greater facilities for organizing exploring expeditions, while the Alpine Club had better means of choosing the personnel. A joint Committee, called the Mount Everest Committee, was therefore formed, composed of three members each of the two societies. And it was arranged that during the first phase, while the mountain was being reconnoitred, the President of the Royal Geographical Society should be Chairman; and in the second phase, when the mountain was to be climbed, the President of the Alpine Club should preside.

Thus constituted the Mount Everest Committee was composed of the following:

As ever, the first necessity was money—and Everest expeditions are expensive matters. Neither of the two societies had any money at their disposal; so all had to be raised by private subscription. And here the Alpine Club were extraordinarily generous—or anyhow they were made to be by the compelling Captain Farrar. If a single member had a single sovereign to spare Farrar forced him to disgorge it. In the Geographical Society there still lingered the notion that climbing Mount Everest was sensational but not scientific. If it were a matter of making a map of the region, then the project should be encouraged. If it were a question merely of climbing the mountain, then it should be left to mountaineers and not absorb the attention of a scientific body like the Royal Geographical Society.

This narrow view of the functions of the Society was strongly held by some fellows—even by an ex-President. It was a survival of times when the making of a map was looked upon as the be-all and end-all of a geographer. But it was now laid down from the very first that the attainment of the summit of Mount Everest was the supreme object of the Expedition and all other objects subsidiary to that. Climbing the mountain was no mere sensationalism. It was testing the capacity of man. If he could pass the test of climbing the highest mountain he would feel himself capable of climbing every other peak that did not present insuperable physical obstacles; and the range of geographers would be extended into new and unexplored regions of the earth.

As to the map: that would follow right enough. Let it be known that we were out on a great adventure, and map-makers, geologists, naturalists, botanists and all the rest would come flocking in. That was the view put before the Society and which the Society adopted.

Concurrently with collecting the money the Mount Everest Committee concerned itself with collecting the men and purchasing the equipment and stores. And the composition of the party was determined by the primary object with which the first Expedition would be dispatched; and that object was reconnaissance. For it must be explained that up till now little was known of the mountain itself. Its position and height had been determined by observations made from stations in the plains of India more than a hundred miles away. But from the plains only the tip of it can be seen. A little more can be seen from the neighbourhood of Darjiling, but even then only at a distance of 80 miles. From the Tibetan side Rawling and Ryder had approached to within about sixty miles and Noel perhaps closer. Still, all this did not tell us very much about the mountain. The upper portion looked reasonably practicable. But what it was like between 16,000 feet and 26,000 feet no one could say.

Douglas Freshfield and Norman Collie, who had both climbed in the Himalaya and who both had a keen eye for mountain topography, were, therefore, strongly of opinion that a whole season should be devoted to a thorough reconnaissance of the mountain so that not only a route to the summit but also that route which would indubitably be the best should be found. For it was certain that it would only be by the easiest way up that the summit would ever be reached. And it would be disastrous if a party, after toiling up one route and failing to attain its object, were afterward to find that a better route was all the time available.

Reconnaissance being the