The Ascent of Rum Doodle

by W E Bowman

  The bargaining went on for some time. The Bang was evidently a devout person, for he upheld staunchly the rights of his gods. The final figure was bohees a thousand (£3. 2s. 6d.). Payment was made, and the Bang went to the crevasse, taking Bung with him. But this move did not appear to be popular with the rest of the porters, who had been gesticulating and shouting during the bargaining. They now rushed after Bing and Bung and surrounded them; and everybody began to yell at the top of his voice.

  The argument went on for some minutes. Evidently, the porters were against the rescue; their superstitious minds were no doubt still uneasy, in spite of the handsome offering.

  At last, to our great relief, the Bang appeared to be getting the upper hand. Soon the hubbub was quietened to a mild uproar and the two rescuers forced their way through the mob. In no time at all Constant was restored to us, none the worse for his adventure except for a distressing attack of hiccups. I now realized that it was past time to halt for the night and gave the order to make camp. We turned in a happy and united party.

  Some time in the small hours I awoke with a faint suspicion that there were undercurrents to this episode. Why, for instance, had the dramatic rescue taken place only when it was too late for further marching? I put away such ignoble thoughts at once, and mention them only as evidence of the deterioration which sets in at high altitudes due to the rarefied atmosphere.

  *

  Next morning no one was fit to travel. Burley, in reaction from his magnificent effort of the day before, had gone down again with glacier lassitude, and Prone was prostrate with a sharp attack of pins and needles. The others complained of glacier depression and pressed Prone to prescribe champagne. But the latter was, unfortunately, too ill to attend them, and I dared not on my own initiative take the responsibility of administering so potent a medicine.

  I need hardly say that champagne was carried for medicinal purposes only.

  I was anxious to push on to Base Camp. We were already behind in our programme. Moreover, we were still on the glacier, and at any moment a crevasse might open beneath our feet, precipitating us into the abyss. I therefore gave the order to strike camp.

  My companions were hoisted on to the backs of stalwart porters, and even I, feeling somewhat overcome by recent emotional experiences, allowed myself to be transported in the same way. Bing, the Bang, who had shown initiative in the crevasse incident, was sent ahead as route-finder. The day passed without incident. I awoke at noon to find the vast precipice of the North Wall towering above us. We were at Base Camp.

  5

  Base Camp

  AT BASE CAMP we set about the task of preparing ourselves for the job ahead. Our first concern was to acclimatize. The problem of getting the best out of the members of such an expedition is always one of the most difficult which a conscientious leader must face. It is three-fold, and may be discussed under the headings: fatigue, acclimatization and illness. The question of fatigue is two-fold: if a man is overworked he becomes tired; if he is underworked he becomes lazy. The question of acclimatization is three-fold: first, a man must spend some time high before he is able to work effectively. Second, if he stays high too long he deteriorates. The effect of being high is thus very similar to that of being in a sleeping-bag. Third, if he goes low he will probably be able to recuperate. The whole thing is complicated by the psychological factor; and on this score I have but one rule: a contented climber is a good climber.

  Thanks to the splendid work of Prone the expedition was remarkably free from illness. All were fit and well, except poor Burley, who had fallen victim to Base Camp lassitude and consequently was not acclimatizing as quickly as the others, and Prone, who was smitten with mysterious and complicated symptoms, namely: pallor, profuse sweating, pulse rapid and soft, temperature sub-normal, deep breathing and sighing, restlessness and thirst, cold extremities, faintness, dizziness and buzzing in the ears. Poor fellow, he was much distressed, both by his condition and by the fact that he was unable to diagnose his ailment. The problem was finally solved by Constant, who produced a first-aid manual and pointed out that the symptoms were exactly those of haemorrhage, except that the last two were missing, namely: insensibility and death. He said there was still hope. Prone then discovered that he had cut himself in the ear while shaving and was slowly bleeding to death. After stopping the bleeding by holding ice against his ear and afterwards treating himself for surgical shock and a frostbitten ear, he went down with Italian measles.

  The days of acclimatization were spent according to the character and duties of the individual. Burley superintended, as well as his condition would allow, the unpacking and repacking of the stores and, in his more active moments, evading the scientific attentions of Wish, who insisted on subjecting him, as the heaviest man of the party, to a harrowing process known as a fatigue test.

  Wish was fully occupied with research of various kinds. At almost any time of day he could be seen shovelling or drilling the ice of the glacier, taking thermometer readings at various strategic points, hitting rocky outcrops with hammers, or calibrating his boiling-point thermometers. He offered a prize of 1½d. for every specimen of creature brought to him, and 3d. for every Wharton’s warple; but although we spent much time poking into crevasses and lifting stones none of us was able to supplement his income. Wish chose me, the lightest of the party, as his second subject for the fatigue test. Being anxious to encourage every aspect of the expedition I did my best to satisfy his demands, but I became so exhausted that I had little energy to spare for the others, which was rather unfair; but no complaints were heard, which was a tribute to the prevailing team spirit.

  Shute took the opportunity to give his gear a thorough try-out. His favourite test-piece was myself running up and down the hill which Wish had chosen for his fatigue test. I could only hope that these sequences would not be given, in the final film, the emphasis which they received at the time.

  Jungle’s job was to prepare the walkie-talkie apparatus and to instruct us in its use. I have always had a horror of electrical gadgets and I was relieved to find that our sets were quite simple to operate, besides being too weak to hurt us. But although the gear was simple the method of using it was not. In my ignorance I thought that we would call each other up as one does on the telephone. But it is much more complicated than that. In the first place, you never address a person by his real name. Code names are used. Jungle gave us our code names, which were as follows:

  BURLEY: Deadweight

  WISH: Fiddler

  SHUTE: Dickie-bird

  CONSTANT: Applecart

  PRONE: Ailing

  MYSELF: Binder

  There was some argument about Jungle’s code name. He himself had picked ‘Pathfinder’, but this, for some reason, proved unpopular with the others. Shute, rather tactlessly I thought, suggested that ‘Pathloser’ would be more appropriate. Eventually we compromised with ‘Wanderer’, but Jungle seemed hurt.

  Then we had to learn the language. One must never, under any circumstances, speak in the normal manner. To say, for instance, ‘yes’, ‘no’ or ‘very well’ is quite unheard of. Instead, one must use such expressions as ‘that is correct’, ‘can do’, ‘will do’, ‘Roger’, and so on. Two o’clock becomes ‘fourteen hundred hours’ and midnight, for some obscure mathematical reason, must never be referred to. To go East is to ‘proceed zero-niner-zero’, and 20,000 feet becomes ‘angels twenty’.

  There was also an elaborate ceremonial to be observed when calling up and replying. Finally, we were forbidden to use our ordinary voices; we must speak in a kind of chant which would make it difficult to tell one voice from another.

  The younger members seemed to get a good deal of innocent fun from this ritual, but I must confess that I found it a little confusing.

  The radio sets were made small to save weight, and their range was limited. It might sometimes be necessary to have messages relayed via one or two intermediaries. In view of certain youthful experiences at children’s
parties I decided that some practice was advisable. I asked the party to form a large circle over the whole width of the glacier, so that messages could be sent right round. At first I was quite unable to think of a message. My brain seemed to have frozen, and I stood for some minutes feeling foolish. At last, I managed somehow to compose the first message: ‘How serene is Rum Doodle in the morning light.’

  This came back as ‘Binder’s butter beans.’

  After some thought I sent out the following: ‘Please pay very careful attention to the message.’ This, too, came back as ‘Binder’s butter beans.’

  This was absurd. As an experiment I sent out: ‘Binder’s butter beans.’ This returned as: ‘The voice of the leader is sweet music in the ears of the followers.’

  This sort of thing went on all morning. I was determined not to give up until we had mastered the technique, and greatly to my delight the messages began coming through perfectly, without any apparent reason for the change, just before lunch time.

  By great coincidence we had butter beans for lunch, which I thought rather amusing.

  Some of us were inclined to be sceptical about the value of the radio; but we were shortly to receive striking proof of its usefulness. I was taking a walk one morning by myself, in order to meditate on the responsibilities of leadership, when my walkie-talkie began to buzz. I put it to my ear and heard a voice:

  ‘Applecart to Binder. Applecart to Binder. Are you receiving me? Over.’

  I flicked the switch to ‘transmit’ and said: ‘Binder to Applecart. Binder to Applecart. Receiving you loud and clear. Are you receiving me? Over.’

  Back came the reply: ‘Applecart to Binder. Receiving you strength eight. Turn up two notches. Over.’

  I turned up two notches and said: ‘Binder to Applecart. Have turned up two notches. Are you receiving me? Over.’

  ‘Applecart to Binder. Receiving you loud and clear. Good-morning. Do you know where corkscrew is? Over.’

  ‘Binder to Applecart. Please say again. Over.’

  ‘Applecart to Binder. I say again. Receiving you loud and clear. Good-morning. Do you know where corkscrew is? Over.’

  ‘Binder to Applecart. Good-morning. Corkscrew is in right-hand pocket of spare trousers. Over.’

  ‘Applecart to Binder. Roger. Over and out.’

  One wonders how earlier expeditions managed at all without the boon of radio.

  *

  Constant had the job of paying off the redundant porters and instructing the remainder in their future duties. We retained 88 porters and 11 boys for the return journey, the rest being dismissed. Of the 99, those who were not actively employed on the mountain were to move Base Camp to another position where it would be safe from avalanches. Constant considered that they could be left to do the job themselves, as he had made everything quite clear to them. This was a relief to me, as every available European would be needed on the mountain.

  *

  I have made a special study of the effects of rarefied atmosphere on human behaviour, and had asked the others to tell me of any unusual experiences which might occur to them on the mountain. Even at the comparatively moderate height of Base Camp altitude effects were already perceptible. During an impromptu game of cricket Burley swore at the umpire – a thing which could never happen at sea level – while Wish showed a tendency to take more than his share of marmalade. But these were temporary effects which would disappear with acclimatization.

  It was interesting to notice how the diverse characters of my companions influenced their choice of literature. Burley whiled away his hours of lassitude with Bulldog Drummond. Wish could be found almost any evening huddled over a melting block of ice reading Martians and Atom Men. Shute relaxed with Three-Dimensional Murder. Jungle displayed an unexpectedly romantic soul with Love in the Labyrinth, while Prone was never to be seen without a copy of his own work The Secret of Radiant Health, except when he had mislaid it.

  My duties did not allow of frivolous relaxation. But it is worth recording that Bing, the Bang, spent much of his leisure immersed in a Yogistani translation of Three Men in a Boat.

  We foregathered in the evening for a social hour, and many a spirited discussion took place at these gatherings. On one occasion we discussed the old question: should oxygen and other artificial aids be used on mountains. Burley said that it was a lot of ruddy lumber; more trouble than it was worth. He told us about his friend Baffles, who carried an oxygen set weighing forty pounds to the summit of Mi Wurdle, only to find when he got there that the apparatus had been out of order all the time. Wish said that this remark was typical of the layman’s ignorant point of view. We had a unique opportunity to test our gear under rigorous conditions, and our duty was to do so. He asked Burley why, if he disagreed with its use, he was willing to use it. Burley asked whether Wish expected him to climb the ruddy mountain naked. Wish said that this was a typically unscientific argument. He said he had long been aware that to some the ascent of the mountain partook of the frivolous nature of a sporting event. He himself took a sterner view. To him, the climax of our efforts would be the fulfilment of his own self-dedicated task of determining the melting-point of ice on the summit. He reminded Burley that without oxygen the exacting intellectual efforts which this delicate experiment demanded would be quite impossible. Burley, rather tactlessly I thought, said that, speaking with wide experience and an excellent memory, he could recall nothing which approached this for futility. He said that nobody except a demented scientist would want to melt ice on the tops of mountains, and even if he did, who cared what the temperature was? He told us about his friend Strokes, who had had the ice melted under his feet by a scientist on the summit of the Schmutzigstein and had lost three toes in consequence. He said that any scientist was a menace on a mountain.

  While they were arguing this point with their usual commendable frankness Shute said that without artificial aids the taking of three-dimensional films would also be impossible; and this prompted Jungle to remark that that was sufficient justification for doing without them. His own motive in climbing was to escape from mechanical civilization and everything that it stood for, especially films. Constant said that he deplored the narrow outlook of the others. He climbed solely to demonstrate the triumph of the spirit over adverse circumstances. He said that artificial aids were unsportsmanlike; if they were carried to their logical extreme we might find climbers impaling the summit of a mountain with a long-range harpoon attached to a rope ladder. If summits could not be climbed unaided they were better left unclimbed. Prone said this was rubbish; if artificial aids were refused tents and clothing must go with them. He asked Constant if his triumphant spirit was prepared to climb Rum Doodle in a loincloth, or worse.

  Although I believe in plain speaking between friends I really felt that it was being overdone on this occasion. I therefore reminded all of the words of Totter on the subject: No practical mountaineer would refuse the help of science, but there are limits. I expected this to put an end to the discussion – for what more is there to say? – but nobody seemed to take any notice. It was obvious to me that we were still suffering from the rarefied atmosphere.

  6

  North Wall: the First Assault

  AT LAST, ALL were considered acclimatized, with the exception of Prone, who had developed blood-pressure; and we set out to assault the North Wall. I sent off the following message by runner: ‘Moving to attack North Wall, the tremendous precipice which rears above us 5,000 feet against the sky. The question on all lips is: “Will it go?” and every heart whispers a confident: “Yes, it will!” The spirit of the team is excellent and the porters are beyond praise. All in good health.’

  The North Wall is a sheer glass-like face of ice broken only by rock, snowfields, ice-pinnacles, crevasses, bergschrunds, ridges, gulleys, scree, chimneys, cracks, slabs, gendarmes, Dames Anglaises, needles, strata, gneiss and gabbro. A formidable obstacle, and one to daunt the hearts of a disunited party supported by mediocre porters. Our pla
n was to establish Advanced Base on the South Col, which is immediately above the North Wall; but it was expected that one intermediate camp would be needed.

  We had already reconnoitred the lower slopes of the Wall, and two schools of thought had arisen concerning the best method of tackling it. Wish, our cragsman, favoured the direct ascent of a precipitous rock-face which led to what seemed easy going higher up. Shute, the ice expert, preferred a steep slope of ice which likewise appeared to ease off towards its upper extremity. Since no final decision was possible it had been decided to try both ways simultaneously. Shute and Jungle would tackle the ice, Wish and Burley would attack the rock. Constant and I, after tidying up at Base, would follow on to support either party.

  Constant and I moved off shortly after midday, and we had not yet left the glacier when my radio buzzed. It was Jungle in a high state of excitement. Shute was stuck half-way up his ice-field, having lost his ice-axe and being afraid to come down. Jungle’s own axe was sunk in the ice with the rope belayed to it. He dared not remove it in case Shute should fall. Would we please come and help him?

  This was alarming news. I immediately assured Jungle that we would be with him as quickly as possible, and we set off at full speed. But we had gone no more than a few paces when Constant disappeared into a crevasse. The rope tightened between us and I was jerked on to my face. In the excitement I let go of my ice-axe and found myself being pulled towards the lip of the crevasse with no means of stopping myself. I was within two yards of the edge when I stopped. The rope had cut into the ice and the increased friction had saved me.