Chapter 55 54

June 7, 1924 Sixth Battalion, 26,800 feet Tibet, Mount Everest * The mountaineering team was supposed to set off before sunrise, but when the time came, they didn't move.Leaving the tent at that point is dead.They waited until the yellow sunlight hit the tent, and the large condensate melted and dripped on their faces.The wind had almost died down. Price sat up in his sleeping bag. Ever fell asleep? I'm dreaming.Ashley said in a hoarse voice: But he didn't fall asleep. Price ran his fingers through the melted snow on the walls of the tent. The weather seems to be improving.We might have a chance.

Ashley didn't answer. They moved slowly, and the pain all night made them very weak.It took them an hour to get dressed, boil water and use a thermos to make coffee.Ashley's mouth was dry.No amount of slush or tea could quench his thirst.He was cold all over.When they finally left the tent, Price slung a bundle of rope over one shoulder and a pouch on the other that contained a pocket-sized Kodak camera. Price led the way.They climbed over a rugged scree slope to a sunlit rocky area in the distance.The golden light is like a mirage.Pyramidal peaks loomed above them, and plumes of water flowed like jets.

The stone under his feet made it difficult for Ashley to walk.Because of the snow goggles, the edge of his field of vision was blurred, so the vision below was blurred.He stumbled over the edge of a rock and steadied himself on the tip of the ice axe.Price doesn't wear goggles because there's very little snow here, and he pulls them over the brim of his hat so he can see better. The steep incline cut the mountainside within arm's length of them.Ashley stopped, bent down and coughed violently.Price paused to wait for him, gasping for air.Price signaled to move on, but Ashley looked back, as if waiting for someone.

What's wrong? Ashley shook his head.For a moment he thought there was another climber with them.He toiled forward in short strides, trying to go twenty paces before stopping.As a result, he only took twelve steps.He leaned forward, panting wildly.Thirteen steps.He sucked in the burning air, shivering in the sun.Every time he stopped, Price gasped beside him. They came to a field of coarse-grained snow (neve), hardened by pressure and looking like a layer of blue glass.Price took off his snow goggles, picked up the ice ax on his shoulder, and wanted to carve a ladder through the tightly packed snow.After swiping the chisel a few times, he leaned on the ice ax for breath.He stepped forward, stepping into the carved indentation.He began to chisel the next step.Progress was pitifully slow.

I'm starting to see ghosts.Price said loudly: Shouldn't have taken off the goggles. Ashley's thinking became slow and simple.He followed Price through the coarse-grained snow, then fretted over each boulder in the route, wondering which path would take the fewest steps.In his vague consciousness, he confirmed again that there was really a third mountaineering member. Although the phantom disappeared as soon as he looked closely, it would always reappear.When he stopped to catch his breath, he was absent-mindedly looking at the spectacular scenery in the distance below. The mountain peak pierced through an entire flat cloud pile, like white waves on the distant sea.

They reached the yellow sandstone on the upper half of the mountain.A strong wind howled.They were traversing a route just a few hundred feet above the northeast ridge, following the steep slope to the final summit.Price had slowed to a crawl.They would stop and rest at every step, gasping for breath, either leaning on the ice ax or resting their elbows on their bent knees.In such a situation, Ashley felt like an outsider, watching his performance from the sidelines. Price stopped and fixed the ice axe.He waved one hand in front of the snow goggles, looking desperate. It's over.He gasped: The weather has changed.I'm going snowblind.

A strong wind whipped their words. What? it's over. Ashley shook his head violently.He yelled hoarsely in Price's ear. still have a chance.I still have a lot of strength. Price waved off the spiraling snow. There will be storms. I go a little further. Price grabbed Ashley's arm.At that moment, they stood facing each other, Ashley in green goggles and a leather hat, Price in a visor with what appeared to be an ice beard.Ashley raised his head, looking at the peak that appeared and disappeared in the churning white snow. The vertical distance is a thousand feet.Price bellowed: It's still hours.

I can go faster without you. impossible. I'm going. Price let go of Ashley's arm.He stared at Ashley for a while.Then he turned and began to stagger back, following the tracks in the snow. Ashley continued to climb the rock slope.The wind howled.He was crossing a field of crumbling slabstones that overlapped each other like snow-covered roof tiles.He slipped suddenly on a slab of stone, finding support with his foot in the loose snow.He maintained his center of gravity with the ice ax while panting constantly. Ashley pushed on, grabbing the ax with his outside hand and stabbing himself into the hollow in the rock to steady himself.He felt that the spikes could not be firmly fixed on the slate, and the ground was covered with snow.He kicked and chopped at the snow that covered the flagstones.Ashley looked down.From this slope, you can plunge directly into the 10,000-foot-deep Rongbuk Glacier.

A fierce gust of wind whizzed by and almost knocked him over.The slope of the ground was so steep that he could already touch the stone slabs.Ashley trekked into a vast, deep valley filled with fluffy snow.He was knee-deep in snow.Now the wind was blowing thick snowflakes again, making it impossible for him to see very far. He took the altimeter out of his pocket.The pointer crossed 28,000 feet a little.He looked up to the summit, but saw only a swirling sky covered with dense snow.The storm is getting stronger. Exhausted, Ashley turned around and began to slowly go back along the original path.His tracks were soon filled with snow.

Although he was wearing snow goggles, Ashley's eyes felt hot from the cold, and he believed that his eyes would freeze and burst open.He walked down in the blizzard for some time, but I don't know how much time passed.He climbed over the gravel slope at a very slow speed. (Damn Monsoon,) he thought to himself. (I actually came early for the sake of punishment.) Each gust of wind pierced the fibers of his clothing, causing a pang of pain, like being submerged in flowing ice water.His mouth and nose were frozen hard from condensation.Tiny icicles hung from his face.Every time he gasps, the cold air burns his throat and lungs, making him more uncomfortable, but he needs oxygen all over his body, so he can only continue to breathe.Ashley's ice ax fell somewhere.His snow goggles had been fogged and opaque, and had also been covered with ice.He peeled the ice off his face, and the ice swirled away in the wind.

Ashley stopped to confirm the direction, and collapsed in a patch of snow.He thought he might have passed the Sixth Battalion, but wasn't sure.His visibility was only a yard or two.Suddenly, he remembered the altimeter in his pocket.Gritting the glove between his teeth, he took out the altimeter with his frozen hand, trying to feel the cold metal disc with his fingertips.He struggled to read the readings in the blizzard.A strong wind blew him down on the gravel slope.His already numb hand loosened and the altimeter dropped.Ashley put his gloves back on carefully, and continued to stagger on his way. A third climber appeared ahead again, but came back to assist.The opponent's speed was slow and steady, looking like a blob in the white.He'd brought a bottle of hot tea from the Fifth Battalion; he'd brought a lantern and spotlight flares, too, and he knew the way back to the tent.Ashley stopped, sinking into the snow, watching the blob approach in swirling snowflakes.Perhaps the climber had whistled and shouted into the wind, but Ashley still couldn't hear him. Ashley blinked heavily, part of his eyelashes were held in place by the ice, so he rubbed his eyes to remove the ice crystals.There is no third climber here, and he knows it very well.He waved his hands in front of his face, then moved his eyes for a moment, trying to get a better look, while the blizzard was still blowing hard at him.Ashley walked a few steps, panting with difficulty.He just needs to rest for a while.He leans against the hillside.The blob was still approaching, but stopped for a while to catch his breath, so he could move on. After the mountaineering team arrived, they would pour hot tea into Ashley's mouth.He would take the tired Ashley down to the third battalion, where they would give him hot soup and cover him with three layers of eiderdown.Then they'd take him to base camp and put his unconscious hands in warm water; they'd say he was heroic, though he failed.Then they would leave the mountain and pass the verdant fields below, alpine flowers, rare butterflies, and azaleas in full bloom.Shave and take a hot bath for the first time since arriving in Kalimpong; take a boat home.At last England was greener than he remembered. Then Ashley would write: Come and wait for my train to arrive and we can go for a walk in Regent's Park.I still have the sunburn and cough, but meet me in Regent's Park and we can walk those French gardens again.We can sit by the water and you can tell me what I've been doing all these years.Then I can understand why I am not affected by Queen's Castle, this mountain, or you.And I can live alive in England, never wanting anything more, and be content with what I have. Ashley wiped the snow off his face.He had collapsed on the hillside and couldn't get up.Now he doesn't feel much cold, only obvious weakness.The blob quivered in the distance, a hundred yards below the snow slope, the only shape in the white world.The third climber waved to Ashley, getting closer.Soon he will be here. Ashley couldn't move.He was so thirsty that he grabbed a handful of snow and stuffed it into his mouth, but it tasted so much like sand that he threw up and nearly choked.He began to curse and moan.He knew what was wrong with him, but he couldn't do anything about it. (What a waste,) he thought. (What a fucking waste.) He looks down at his right hand, now a bare white paw, the inner and outer gloves falling somewhere behind.Maybe his teeth would be shattered too. Ashley leaned against the hillside and began to move down slowly and laboriously.His clenched hands made a shallow mark in the snow. (You can't beat me,) Ashley thought to himself. (You can do whatever you want, but you can't beat me.)