Chapter 49 48

May 10, 1924 3rd Battalion, 21,000 feet Tibet, East Rongbuk Glacier * The entire surface of the tent was covered with an inch of powdery snow.Ashley and Price sat upwind, putting their backs against the flapping tent in the strong wind to secure it.The camp consisted of a group of tents, camped at an altitude of 21,000 feet, above an ice cliff, with only a thin, weatherproof tent between them and the blizzard.Ashley was sitting with his legs in the sleeping bag. The tarpaulin on the outside of the sleeping bag was stiff and covered with ice. The wind slowed down for a while, and then roared again, hitting the tent hard, so that Ashley couldn't believe that it was only air and snow that was hitting the tent.The clapping power is so strong that they can only be heard by the other party by shouting.

Shall I check the wind rope?Ashley roared. Need not.Price yelled.This will only bring in more snow. Their eyes followed the lanterns hanging from the top of the tent.The lamp kept swaying, and the shadows in the tent changed shapes with the wind.They were too tired to shout, but it was too dangerous to fall asleep.We can only wait and hope that the storm will pass quickly. After half an hour, the wind had died down enough that they could hear voices.Sommerwell's face appeared in the doorway, eyebrows and beard covered with snow.He squeezed into the tent, digging snow off his collar. What about the decision?An early morning walk to the 4th Battalion?

Ashley coughed into a dirty handkerchief.He looked at Somawell and spoke softly with a rough throat. Hugh was not happy.He left his swimsuit in Parrytown. No one laughed.We have been tossed by the storm for five days, the wind is too strong to move, and the night is too cold to sleep.The weather was worse than any previous expedition, and they didn't know why.The porters believed that the expedition was cursed, that the mountain god was punishing them, and that this was only a warning.Even the British knew that if the weather did not improve, they would soon have to retreat. Price opened a jar of strawberry jam.

we need something to eat He collected snow from the ground inside the tent, put it in a tin bowl, and poured jam on it.He stirred the reddish ice with a large spoon and handed it to Ashley.Ashley took a sip. Not too bad. They took turns eating from bowls, and Sommerwell picked up a book from the floor. "Three Tragedy".The cover has softened with constant use, and the gilding on the margins has all but faded. Should it be Worthingham's turn? Ashley shook his head and touched his throat. There is no way out of this situation. Somawell turned to the unfinished part of "Hamlet", and then began to read, although his voice was cadenced, but it was not for dramatic effect, but to cover up the fluctuating noise.Ashley saw Somawell trembling while reading.They were all trembling.

The wind returned to its former strength, and they could not hear anything.The three of them leaned against the windward side of the tent like this, and the strong wind beat their backs, and the sound was deafening.The lights were blown out.It was pitch black inside now, and the tents were rattling as the Sherpas cried out anxiously from the next tent.Price responded by shouting in Nepali. Something hard hit the tent behind Ashley's shoulder.It's a rock or a block of ice.He wondered if the tent would break, and imagined the scene: a large pile of snow poured in, sleeping bags, food, and equipment swirled like a whirlpool, and then the tent disappeared, and everyone was either taken away together, or left naked in the cloud In shaded moonlight.This is tantamount to death.They are too far away from the base camp, and the base camp is too far away from civilization, as if they are the only people left in Tibet, and they are the only people left in the world.Price yelled at the other climbers.

Sounds like Frieze pulled out his machine gun. Ashley responded hoarsely in the dark. We'll never get to the third battalion. After a few hours, the wind calmed down, and Somawell returned to his tent.Ashley lay in the darkness with his eyes open.He felt a protruding rock under his body pricking his shoulders, so he got up and rearranged the kapok mattress, and took it out to replace the top sleeping bag.Then he lay down again, cursing. I swear there must be a goddamn rock down there.Who is responsible for clearing the land? Price chuckled in his sleeping bag. nobody.Want to swap places?

No. Ashley closed his eyes, listening to the flapping of the tent, he heard a sound of metal clashing.One of the windbreak ropes must have been loose, and the metal parts on it must have struck the stone. Someone should fix it.Price whispered. That's the way it is. They fell silent.The unsecured windbreak rope continued to beat. It was freezing cold.Ashley muttered: I guess there shouldn't be many sleeping bags in the other tents, right? I don't think so.Even if there is, would you take it? Ashley turned over, trying to avoid the sharpest stone below.Occasionally, the wind would blow a cloud of snow in, and he had to fumble it away with wet gloves.

Do you remember, Ashley said suddenly: the girl I mentioned earlier.Soames︱Anderson. certainly. It's my fault she left.I don't know what I have, and I don't know how to cherish it. They heard footsteps outside the tent.Somawell passed by to deal with the wind rope.The flapping stopped.Footsteps passed by them again. I just want to speak out.Ashley added.I never told anyone. All right. Ashley coughed for a while, then sat up and took out the water bottle from the sleeping bag.He pulled the cork and turned the jug upside down, but only a few drops fell into his mouth.The snow hasn't melted yet.He covered the kettle and lay back down again.

besides.Ashley gasped and said: Before we set sail, something happened. Is it about that girl? She sent me a telegram.I haven't heard from her for years. What does it say? Almost nothing was said. Price changes positions in his sleeping bag.How are you?Shall I light the lamp? fine.I will stop talking. Ashley coughed again.He spat some liquid into the handkerchief and lay back, breathing as well as he hadn't in hours. Maybe you should go to her.Price said. There was a long silence in the tent. useless. Maybe you should give it a try. I guess so. We should really go to sleep.

I know. Ashley coughed a few times, then turned over.He felt as if a piece of shards of ice had melted, piercing his ribs through the silk underwear. How old are you, Ashley?Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine. Still very young. I don't feel young anymore. Of course.Price said: But if you want to, maybe you can still feel young. Ashley laughed, but the laughter turned into panting.He said goodnight to Price, pulled his sleeping bag up, and tried to recall every word of the telegram.There was another flapping of the tent outside, and he knew that another windproof rope had come loose.