Page:My Climbs in the Alps and Caucasus (1908).djvu/320

314 About 9 p.m. the Tartar arrived, burdened with the many joints of a lamb, some extraordinary rye cakes, and a great bundle of firewood. We pinned a lantern to the roof of our tent, and made a sumptuous meal on cold boiled meat and the most objectionable cakes.

The morning broke with every symptom of coming storm. Long whisps of cloud formed above the ridges, and fitful rushes of wind swept, howling, down the glacier gorges. The Tartar shook his head and said "Karaoul?" and, when we demurred, wrapped his burka round him, and gave us to understand that wind and snow would be our portion on the Bezingi vsek.

Having ascended the steep rocks by which we had previously turned the ice fall, we began the short but very steep descent on to the upper glacier. The ice itself was cut off from the rocks by an incipient, well-bridged Schrund, and through one of the holes in this bridge the Tartar managed to drop his iron-shod stick. Zurfiuh and I regarded the weapon as hopelessly lost, but the Tartar insisted on being tied to the end of our rope and lowered into the chasm. We knocked away the frozen snow, and thought the black depths would prove more eloquent than our speech. Not a bit of it, he seemed to rather enjoy its dark terrors, and we lowered him down till he disappeared from sight. After some twenty feet, a joyful shout suggested that his quest