By Sir FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND, K.C.S.I., K.C.I.E.

The idea of climbing Mount Everest has been vaguely in men's mind for thirty or forty years past. Certainly that veteran mountain-climber and mountain-lover, Douglas Freshfield, had it persistently rising within him as he broke away from the Swiss Alps and subdued the giants of the Caucasus and then sought still higher peaks to conquer. Lord Curzon also had had it in his mind, and when Viceroy of India had written suggesting that the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club should make a joint exploration of the mountain. Bruce, Longstaff and Mumm would have made this exploration in 1905 if the permission of the Nepalese and Tibetan Governments had been available. So also would Rawling a few years later. All these, and doubtless others, had contemplated at least a preliminary reconnaissance of Mount Everest.

But, so far as I know, the first man to propose a definite expedition to Mount Everest was the then Captain Bruce, who, when he and I were together in Chitral in 1893, proposed to me that we should make a glorious termination to a journey from Chinese Turkestan across Tibet by ascending Mount Everest. And it is Bruce who has held to the idea ever since and sought any opportunity that offered of getting at the mountain.

It stands to reason that men with any zest for mountaineering could not possibly allow Mount Everest to remain untouched. The time, the opportunity, the money, the ability to make the necessary preliminary preparation might be lacking, but the wish and the will to stand on the summit of the world's highest mountain must have been in the heart of many a mountaineer since the Alps have been so firmly trampled under foot. The higher climbers climb, the higher they want to climb. It is certain that they will never rest content till the proudest peaks of the Himalaya are as subdued and tamed as the once dreaded summits of the Alps now are.

Men simply cannot resist exercising and stretching to their fullest tether the faculties and aptitudes with which they each happen to be specially endowed. One born with an aptitude for painting is dull and morose and fidgety until he can get colours and a brush into his hand and commence painting. Another is itching to make things—to use his hands and fashion wood or stone or metal into forms which he is continually creating in his mind. Another is restless until he can sing. Another is ever pining to be on a public platform swaying the audience with his oratory and playing on their feelings as on a musical instrument. Each has his own inner aptitude which he aches to give vent to and bring into play. And more than this, he secretly owns within himself an exceedingly high standard—the highest standard—of what he wants to attain to along his own particular line, and he is never really content in his mind and at peace with himself when he is not stretching himself out to the full towards this high pinnacle which he has set before him.

Now fortunately all men are not born with the same aptitudes. We do not all want to sing or all want to orate or all want to paint. Some few want to climb mountains. These men love to pit themselves against what most others would consider an insuperable obstacle. They enjoy measuring themselves against it and being forced to exercise all their energies and faculties to overcome it. The Duke of the Abruzzi is as good an example of this type as I know. He was never happy until he had discovered some inaccessible and impracticable mountain and then thrown himself against it and come to grips with it in dead earnest and either conquered it or been thrown back from it utterly and completely exhausted, but with the satisfaction that anyhow he had exercised every nerve and muscle and faculty to the full. His native mountains he had early conquered over and over again, so he had to look further afield to Mount Elias in Alaska and Ruwenzori in East Africa; and having vanquished these he would doubtless have turned his eyes to Mount Everest if for political reasons the way to that mountain had not been barred, and he was compelled therefore to look to the next highest mountain, namely, the peak K2 in the Karakoram Himalaya in the neighbourhood of which he attained to a greater height, 24,600 feet, than has yet been attained by any man on foot.

The Duke no doubt is human and would like his name to go down to posterity as having conquered some conspicuously lofty and difficult peak. But undoubtedly the ruling passion with him would be this love of pitting himself against a great mountain and feeling that he was being forced to exert himself to the full. To such men a tussle with a mountain is a real tonic—something bracing and refreshing. And even if they are laid out flat by the mountain instead of standing triumphant on its summit they have enjoyed the struggle and would go back for another if they ever had the chance.

Others—like Bruce—climb from sheer exuberance of spirits. Blessed with boundless energy they revel in its exercise. It is only on the mountain side, breathing its pure air, buffeting against its storms, testing their nerve, running hair-breadth risks, exercising their intelligence and judgment, feeling their manhood and looking on Nature face to face and with open heart and mind that they are truly happy. For these men days on the mountain are days when they really live. And as the cobwebs in their brains get blown away, as the blood begins to course refreshingly through their veins, as all their faculties become tuned up and their whole being becomes more sensitive, they detect appeals from Nature they had never heard before and see beauties which are revealed only to those who win them. They may not at the moment be aware of the deepest impressions they are receiving. But to those who have struggled with them the mountains reveal beauties they will not disclose to those who make no effort. That is the reward the mountains give to effort. And it is because they have much to give and give it so lavishly to those who will wrestle with them that men love the mountains and go back to them again and again.

And naturally the mountains reserve their choicest gifts for those who stand upon their summits. The climber's vision is then no longer confined and enclosed. He can see now all round. His width of outlook is enlarged to its full extremity. He sees in every direction. He has a sense of being raised above the world and being proudly conscious that he has raised himself there by his own exertions, he has a peculiar satisfaction and for the time forgets all frets and worries in the serener atmosphere in which he now for a moment dwells.

And it is only for a moment that he can dwell there. For men cannot always live on the heights. They must come down to the plains again and engage in the practical life of the world. But the vision from the heights never leaves them. They want to return there. They want to reach a higher height. Their standard of achievement rises. And so it has come about that mountaineers when they had climbed the highest heights in Europe went off to the Caucasus, to the Andes, and eventually to the Himalaya to climb something higher still. Freshfield conquered the Caucasus, Whymper and Conway the Andes, and the assault upon the Himalaya is now in full swing.

It is therefore only in the natural course of things that men should want to climb the highest summit of the Himalaya. And though those who set out to climb Mount Everest will probably think little of the eventual results, being perfectly satisfied in their own minds, without any elaborate reasoning, that what they are attempting is something supremely worth while, yet it is easy for lookers on to see that much unexpected good will result from their activities. The climbers will be actuated by sheer love of mountaineering, and that is enough for them. But climbing Mount Everest is no futile and useless performance of no satisfaction to anyone but the climbers. Results will follow from it of the highest value to mankind at large.

For the climbers are unwittingly carrying out an experiment of momentous consequence to mankind. They are testing the capacity of the human race to stand the highest altitudes on this earth which is its home. No scientific man, no physiologist or physician, can now say for certain whether or not a human body can reach a height of 29,000 feet above the sea. We know that in an aeroplane he can be carried up to a much greater height. But we do not know whether he can climb on his own feet such an altitude. That knowledge of men's capacity can only be acquired by practical experiment in the field.

And in the process of acquiring the knowledge a valuable result will ensue. By testing their capacities men actually increase them. By exercising their capacities to the full mountaineers seem to enlarge them. A century ago the ascent of Mount Blanc seemed the limit of human capacity. Nowadays hundreds ascend the mountain every year. And going further afield men ascended the highest peaks in the Caucasus and then in the Andes and have been reaching higher and higher altitudes in the Himalaya. Conway reached 23,000 feet, Kellas 23,186 feet, Longstaff 23,360 feet, Dr.Workman 23,000 feet, Kellas and Meade 23,600 feet and the Duke of the Abruzzi 24,600 feet. It looks therefore as if man by attempting more was actually making himself capable of achieving more. By straining after the highest he is increasing his capacity to attain it.

In this measuring of themselves against the mountains men are indeed very like puppies crawling about and testing their capacities on their surroundings—crawling up on to some obstacle, tumbling back discomfited but returning gallantly to the attack and at last triumphantly surmounting it. Thus do they find out what they can do and how they stand in relation to their surroundings. Also by exercising and stretching their muscles and faculties to the full they actually increase their capacity.

Men are still only in the puppy stage of existence. We are prone to think ourselves very “grown up” but really we are only in our childhood. In the latest discussions as to the period of time which must have elapsed since life first appeared upon this earth a period of the order of a thousand million years was named. But of that immense period man has been in existence for only a quarter or half a million years. So the probability is that he has still long years before him and must be now only in his childhood—in his puppyhood. We certainly find that as he inquisitively looks about his surroundings and measures himself against them he is steadily increasing his mastery over them. In the last five hundred years record after record has been beaten. Men have ventured more and shown more adaptability and a sterner hardihood and endurance than ever before. They have ventured across the oceans, circumnavigated the globe, reached the poles, risen into the air, and it can be only a question of time—a few months or a few years—before they reach the highest summit of the earth.

“What then?” some will ask. “Suppose men do reach the top of Mount Everest, what then?” “Suppose we do establish the fact that man has the capacity to surmount the highest summit of his surroundings, of what good is that knowledge?” This is the kind of question promoters of the enterprise continually have to answer. One reply is obvious. The sight of climbers struggling upwards to the supreme pinnacle will have taught men to lift their eyes unto the hills—to raise them off the ground and direct them, if only for a moment, to something pure and lofty and satisfying to that inner craving for the worthiest which all men have hidden in their souls. And when they see men thrown back at first but venturing again and again to the assault till with faltering footsteps and gasping breaths they at last reach the summit they will thrill with pride. They will no longer be obsessed with the thought of what mites they are in comparison with the mountains—how insignificant they are beside their material surroundings. They will have a proper pride in themselves and a well-grounded faith in the capacity of spirit to dominate material.

And direct practical results flow from this increasing confidence which man is acquiring in face of the mountains. A century ago Napoleon's crossing of the Alps was thought an astounding feat. During the last thirty years troops—and Indian troops—have been moved about the Himalaya in all seasons and crossed passes over 15,000 feet above sea level in the depth of winter. On the Gilgit frontier, in Chitral, and in Tibet, neither cold nor snow nor wind stopped them. In winter or in summer, in spring or in autumn, they have faced the Himalayan passes. And they have been able to negotiate them successfully because of their increased knowledge of men's capacities and of the way to overcome difficulties that constant wrestling with mountains in all parts of the world during the last half-century has given. The activities of the Alpine Club have produced direct practical results in the movement of troops in the Himalaya.

More still will follow. When men have proved that they can surmount the highest peak in the Himalaya they will take heart to climb other peaks and become more and more at home in that wonderful region, extending for nigh two thousand miles from the Roof of the World in the North and West to the borders of Burma and China in the South and East and containing more than seventy peaks over 24,000 feet in height—that is higher than any in the Andes, the second highest range of mountains in the world—and more than eleven hundred peaks over 20,000 feet in height. This great mountain region which in Europe would stretch from Calais to the Caspian is one vast mine of beauty of every varied description. And a mine of beauty has this advantage over a mine of material wealth—that we can never exhaust it. And not only can we never exhaust it, but the more we take out the more we find, and the more we give away the richer we are. We may go on digging into a gold mine, but eventually we shall find there is no gold left. We shall have exhausted our mine. But we may dig into that mine of beauty in the Himalaya and never exhaust it. The more we dig the more we shall find—richer beauty, subtler beauty, more varied beauty—beauty of mountain form and beauty of pure and delicate colour, beauty of forest, beauty of river and beauty of lake and combined beauty of rushing torrent, precipitous cliff, richest vegetation and overtopping snowy summit. And when we have discovered these treasures and made them our own we can actually increase their value to ourselves by giving them away to others. By imparting to others the enjoyment which we have felt we shall have increased our own enjoyment.

We cannot expect those who are first engaged in climbing Mount Everest to have the time or inclination to observe and describe the full beauty there is. They will be set on overcoming the physical difficulties and they will be so exhausted for the moment by the effort they will have made that they will not have the repose of mind which is so necessary for seeing and depicting beauty. But when they have pioneered the way and beaten down a path, others will more leisurely follow after. Many even of these may not be able to express in words or in picture the enjoyment they have felt and be able to communicate it to others. They may not be given to public speech or writing and may have no capacity for painting. The flame of their enjoyment may be kept sacred and hidden within them, and it may be only in the privacy of colloquy with some kindred soul that the white glow of their enjoyment may ever be shown. But, others there may be who have the capacity for making the world at large share with them some little of the joy they have felt—who can make our nerves tingle and our blood course quicker, our eyes uplift themselves and our outlook widen as we go out with them to face and overcome the mountains. Such men as these from their very intimacy with the mountains are able to point out beauties which distant beholders would never suspect. And as Leslie Stephen through his love of mountains has been able to attract thousands to the Alps and given them enjoyment, clean and fresh, which but for him they might never have known, so we hope that in the fulness of time a greater Stephen will tell of the unsurpassable beauty of the Himalaya and by so doing add appreciably to the enjoyment of human life.

Such are some of the advantages which men in general will obtain from the attempt to climb Mount Everest. But it is time now to say something of the mountain itself.

Mount Everest for its size is a singularly shy and retiring mountain. It hides itself away behind other mountains. On the north side, in Tibet, it does indeed stand up proudly and alone, a true monarch among mountains. But it stands in a very sparsely inhabited part of Tibet, and very few people ever go to Tibet. From the Indian side only its tip appears among a mighty array of peaks which being nearer look higher. Consequently for a long time no one suspected Mount Everest of being the supreme mountain not only of the Himalaya but of the world. At the time when Hooker was making his Himalayan journeys—that was in 1849—Kanchenjunga was believed to be the highest.

How it was eventually discovered to be the highest is a story worth recording. In the very year that Hooker was botanising in the Sikkim Himalaya the officers of the Great Trigonometrical Survey were making observations from the plains of India to the peaks in Nepal which could be seen from there. When they could find a native name for a peak they called it by that name. But in most cases no native name was forthcoming, and in those cases a Roman number was affixed to the peak. Among these unnamed peaks to which observations to determine the altitude and position were taken from stations in the plains was Peak XV. The observations were recorded, but the resulting height was not computed till three years later, and then one day the Bengali Chief Computer rushed into the room of the Surveyor-General, Sir Andrew Waugh, breathlessly exclaiming, “Sir! I have discovered the highest mountain in the world.” The mean result of all the observations taken from the six stations from which Peak XV had been observed came to 29,002 feet, and this Peak XV is what is now known as Mount Everest.

The question is often asked, “Why twenty-nine thousand and two?” “Why be so particular about the two?” The answer is that that particular figure is the mean of many observations. But it is not infallible. It is indeed in all probability below rather than above the mark, and a later computation of the observed results puts the height at 29,141 feet. In any case, however, there are, as Sir Sidney Burrard has pointed out in his discussion of this point in Burrard and Hayden's Himalaya and Tibet, many causes of slight error in observing and computing the altitude of a distant and very lofty peak. The observations are made with a theodolite. The telescope of the theodolite may not be absolutely perfect. The theodolite may not be levelled with perfect accuracy. The graduations on the circle of the theodolite may not be quite accurate. The observer himself may not have observed with sufficient perfection. An error of ten feet may have resulted from these causes. Then there are other and greater sources of possible error. There may be error in the assumed height of the observing station; and the altitudes of peaks are always varying in nature with the increase and decrease of snow in summer and winter and in a season of heavy snowfall or a season of light snowfall. Another source of error arises from the varying effects of gravitational attraction. “The attraction of the great mass of the Himalaya and Tibet,” says Burrard, “pulls all liquids towards itself, as the moon attracts the ocean and the surface of the water assumes an irregular form at the foot of the Himalaya. If the ocean were to overflow Northern India its surface would be deformed by Himalayan attraction. The liquid in levels is similarly affected and theodolites cannot consequently be adjusted; their plates when levelled are still tilted upward towards the mountains, and angles of observation are too small by the amount the horizon is inclined to the tangential plane. At Darjeeling the surface of water in repose is inclined about 35 to this plane, at Kurseong about 51, at Siliguri about 23, at Dehra Dun and Mussooree about 37. For this reason all angles of elevation to Himalayan peaks measured from the plains, as Mount Everest was measured, are too small and consequently all our values of Himalayan heights are too small. Errors of this nature range from 40 to 100 feet.”

This then is a considerable source of error, but the most serious source of uncertainty affecting the value of heights is the refraction of the atmosphere. A ray of light from a peak to an observer's eye does not travel along a straight line but assumes a curved path concave to the earth. The ray enters the observer's eye in a direction tangential to the curve at that point, and this is the direction in which the observer sees the peak. It makes the peak appear too high. Corrections have therefore to be applied. But there is no certainty as to what should be the amount of the correction; and it is now believed that the computers of the height of Mount Everest applied too great a correction for refraction and consequently reduced its height too much.

Burrard brings together in the following table the different errors to which the carefully determined height of Mount Everest is liable:—

The following table shows how the different values of the height of Mount Everest have been deduced:—

Height of Mount Everest

The height 29,141 is still, Burrard thinks, too small, as it has yet to be corrected for the deviations of gravity. But though it is a more reliable result than 29,002, the latter is still to be retained in maps and publications of the Survey of India.

As to the name, it was called Everest after the distinguished Surveyor-General of India under whose direction the triangulation had been carried out, one result of which was the discovery of the mountain. From the Indian side and Nepal it is not a conspicuous peak on account of its lying so far back. No native name for it could be discovered and Sir Andrew Waugh, the successor of Sir George Everest, called it after his predecessor. From the Tibetan side it is much more conspicuous and, as General Bruce stated in his lecture to the Royal Geographical Society in November 1920, and as Colonel Howard-Bury found in 1921, the Tibetans call it Chomolungma, which Colonel Howard-Bury translated, the “Goddess Mother of the Mountains”—a most appropriate name. But the name Mount Everest is now so firmly established throughout the world that it would be impossible to change it. It is therefore now definitely adopted.

Now, this mountain so coveted by mountaineers is unfortunately situated exactly on the border between two of the most secluded countries in the world—Nepal and Tibet. To reach it the climbers must pass through one or other of these countries and the difficulty of getting the necessary permission is what has so far prevented any attempt being made to attack Mount Everest. But recently access through Tibet has become more possible, and it so happens that it is on the Tibetan side that the summit seems most accessible. From the distant views that could be obtained of it from Sandakphu beyond Darjeeling and from Kampa Dzong in Tibet, a ridge running from the summit in a northerly direction seemed to give good promise of access. Major Ryder and Captain Rawling in 1904, viewing the mountain from a distance of sixty miles almost due north, thought the mountain might be approached from that direction. At the same time the Tibetans were distinctly more favourable to travellers than they had ever been before. The chances therefore of at least exploring Mount Everest were much more promising, and Major Rawling was planning an expedition of exploration when the war broke out and he was killed.

Mr.Douglas Freshfield would certainly have taken the matter up during his Presidency of the Royal Geographical Society, but he had the misfortune to hold that post during the years of the war and no action was possible. But as soon as the war was over interest in Mount Everest revived. In March 1919 Captain J. B. L. Noel read a paper to the Royal Geographical Society describing a reconnaissance he had made in the direction of the mountain in the year 1913. He showed how attention during the last few years had been focused more and more upon the Himalaya and said, “Now that the Poles have been reached, it is generally felt that the next and equally important task is the exploration and mapping of Mount Everest.” So he urged that the exploration which had been the ambition of the late General Rawling with whom he was to have joined should be accomplished in his memory. “It cannot be long,” he continued, “before the culminating summit of the world is visited and its ridges, valleys and glaciers are mapped and photographed.” And at the conclusion of his lecture he said that “some day the political difficulties will be overcome and a fully equipped expedition must explore and map Mount Everest.”

It was not clear whether Captain Noel was advocating a definite attempt to climb the mountain and reach the actual summit, and Mr.Douglas Freshfield and Dr.Kellas who followed after him referred only to the approaches to Mount Everest. But Captain J. P. Farrar, the then President of the Alpine Club, seems to have considered it “a proposal to attempt the ascent of Mount Everest,” and said that the Alpine Club took the keenest interest in the proposal and was prepared not only to lend such financial aid as was in its power, but also to recommend two or three young mountaineers quite capable of dealing with any purely mountaineering difficulties which were likely to be met with on Mount Everest.

The hour was late, but I was so struck by the ring of assurance and determination in the words of the President of the Alpine Club that I could not help asking the President, Sir Thomas Holdich, to let me say a few words. I then told how General Bruce had made to me, twenty-six years ago, the proposal to climb Mount Everest. I said the Royal Geographical Society was interested in the project and now we had heard the President of the Alpine Club say that he had young mountaineers ready to undertake the work. I added, “It must be done.” There might be one or two attempts before we were successful, but the first thing to do was to get over the trouble with our own Government. If they were approached properly by Societies like the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club, and a reasonable scheme were put before them and it were proved to them that we meant business, then, I said, they would be reasonable and do what we wanted. This was a big business and must be done in a big way and I hoped that something really serious would come of that meeting.[1]

Sir Thomas Holdich in closing the meeting advocated approaching Mount Everest through Nepal, and hoped that at some time not very remote we should hear more about the proposed expedition to Mount Everest.

Only a few days after the meeting I met Colonel Howard-Bury at lunch with a Fellow of our Society, Mr.C. P. McCarthy. He was not a mountaineer in the Alpine Club sense of the word, but he had spent much of his time shooting in the Alps and in the Himalaya, and becoming deeply interested in the Mount Everest project, had a talk with Mr.Freshfield about it and made a formal application to the Society for their support in undertaking an expedition. Things now began to move, and the Society applied to the India Office for permission to send an expedition into Tibet for the purpose of exploring Mount Everest. The Government of India in reply said that they were not prepared at the moment to approach the Tibetan Government; but they did not return any absolute refusal.

During my Presidency the Society, in conjunction with the Alpine Club, still further pressed the matter. We asked the Secretary of State for India to receive a deputation from the two bodies, and the request being granted and the deputation being assured of his sympathy we invited Colonel Howard-Bury to proceed to India in June 1920 to explain our wishes personally to the Government of India, and ask them to obtain for us from the Dalai Lama the necessary permission to enter Tibet for the purpose of exploring and climbing Mount Everest. Lord Chelmsford, the Viceroy, received Colonel Howard-Bury most sympathetically and after some preliminary difficulties had been overcome, Mr. Bell, the Political Agent in Sikkim, who happened to be in Lhasa, was instructed to ask the Dalai Lama for permission, and Mr.Bell being on most friendly terms with His Holiness, permission was at once granted.

The one great obstacle in the way of approaching Mount Everest had now at last been removed. What so many keen mountaineers had for years dreamed of was within sight. And as soon as the welcome news arrived—early in January 1921—preparations were commenced to organise an expedition. A joint Committee of three representatives each from the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club was formed under the Chairmanship of the President of the former Society and was named the Mount Everest Committee. The three members of the Society were Sir Francis Younghusband, Mr.E. L. Somers-Cocks (Honorary Treasurer) and Colonel Jack. The three members of the Alpine Club were Professor Norman Collie, Captain J. P. Farrar and Mr.C. F. Meade. Mr.Eaton and Mr.Hinks were Honorary Secretaries.

Our first business was to select a leader for the Expedition. General Bruce, who had had the idea in his mind for so many years, who knew the Himalaya as no one else did, and who had a special aptitude for handling Himalayan people, was now in England, and it was to him our thoughts first turned. But he had just taken up an appointment with the Glamorganshire Territorial Association and was not then available. In these circumstances we were fortunate in having ready to hand a man with such high qualifications as Colonel Howard-Bury. He had much to do on his property in Ireland, but he willingly accepted our invitation to lead the Expedition, and we could then proceed to the choice of the mountaineers.

From the very first we decided that the main object of the Expedition was to be the ascent of the mountain and that all other activities were to be made subordinate to the supreme object of reaching the summit. It was to be no mere surveying or geologising or botanising expedition which would as a secondary object try to climb the mountain if it saw a chance. To climb the mountain was to be the first object and the mapping and everything else was to come afterwards. The reason for this is obvious. What men really want to know is whether man can ascend the highest mountain.

Knowledge of the topography, fauna and flora of that particular area is of very small consequence in comparison with the knowledge of human capacity to surmount the highest point in men's physical surroundings on this earth. By some perversity of human nature there are men who shy at putting the ascent of Mount Everest in the forefront, because it is adventurous and must therefore, they seem to think, cease to be a scientific object. They profess to be unconcerned with the climbing of the mountain so long as a map is made or plants collected. But the plain man instinctively sees the value of the adventure and knows that the successful ascent of Mount Everest will show what man is capable of and put new hope and heart into the human race.

But while it was decided to make the ascent of Mount Everest the main object of the Expedition, Professor Norman Collie and Mr.Douglas Freshfield from the first insisted that a whole season must be devoted to a thorough reconnaissance of the mountain with a view to finding not only a feasible route to the summit but what was without any doubt the most feasible route. We knew nothing of the immediate approaches to the mountain. But we knew that the only chance of reaching the summit was by finding some way up which would entail little rock-climbing or ice step-cutting. The mountain had therefore to be prospected from every side to find a comparatively easy route and to make sure that no other easier route than the one selected existed. This was considered ample work for the Expedition for one season, while the following season would be devoted to an all-out effort to reach the summit along the route selected in the first year.

On this basis the first year's Expedition had accordingly to be organised. The mountain party was to consist of four members, two of whom were to be men of considerable experience and two younger men who it was hoped would form the nucleus of the climbing party the next year. Mr.Harold Raeburn, a member of the Alpine Club who had had great experience of snow and rock work in the Alps, and who had in 1920 been climbing on the spurs of Kanchenjunga, was invited to lead the mountain party. Dr.Kellas, who had made several climbing expeditions in the Himalaya and had in 1920 ascended to a height of 23,400 feet on Mount Kamet, was also invited to join the climbing party. He had been making experiments in the use of oxygen at high altitudes and was still out in India preparing to continue these experiments on Mount Kamet in 1921. It was suggested to him that he should make the experiments on Mount Everest instead, and the party would thereby have the benefit of his wide Himalayan experience. This invitation he accepted.

The two younger members selected for the climbing party were Mr.George Leigh Mallory and Captain George Finch, both with a very high reputation for climbing in the Alps. Unfortunately Captain Finch was for the time indisposed and his place at the last moment had to be taken by Mr.Bullock of the Consular Service, who had been at Winchester with Mr.Mallory and who happened to be at home on leave. Through the courtesy of Lord Curzon he was able to get special leave of absence from the Foreign Office.

While we were finding the men we had also to be finding the money. As a quite rough guess we estimated the Expedition for the two years would cost about £10,000, and at least a substantial portion of this had to be raised by private subscription. Appeals were made by their Presidents to the Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society and to members of the Alpine Club, and Captain Farrar was especially energetic in urging the claims of the enterprise. As a result the members of the Alpine Club subscribed over £3,000 and the Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society nearly that amount. Later on with the advice and help of Mr.John Buchan arrangements were made with The Times and the Philadelphia Ledger for the purchase of the rights of publication of telegrams from the Expedition, and with the Graphic for the purchase of photographs. So eventually the financial position of the Expedition was assured.

The equipment and provisioning of the Expedition was undertaken by the Equipment Committee—Captain Farrar and Mr.Meade—and the greatest trouble was taken to ensure that the most suitable and best tents, sleeping bags, clothing, boots, ice-axes, ropes, cooking apparatus, provisions, etc., were purchased and that they were properly packed and listed.

In the same way the scientific equipment was undertaken by Colonel Jack and Mr.Hinks.

Finally the services of Mr.Wollaston, well known for his journeys in New Guinea and East Africa, were secured as Medical Officer and Naturalist to the Expedition.

Throughout these preparations the advice and help of the best men in every line were freely and willingly forthcoming. For such an enterprise all were ready to give a helping hand. Whether they were scientific men, or business men or journalists, they were ready to throw aside their own work and devote hours to ensuring that the Expedition should be a success along the lines on which they severally had most experience.

And most valuable was the encouragement given to the Expedition by the interest which His Majesty showed in conversation with the President, and His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in receiving Colonel Howard-Bury—an interest which was shown in practical form by generous subscriptions to the funds of the Expedition.

The Expedition was able, therefore, to set out from England under the most favourable auspices, and it was to be joined in India by two officers of the Indian Survey Department, Major Morshead and Major Wheeler, and by an officer of the Indian Geological Survey, Dr.Heron. It was thus admirably equipped for the acquirement of knowledge. But acquirement of knowledge was not the only object which the Expedition had in view. It could not be doubted that the region would possess beauty of exceptional grandeur. So it was hoped that the Expedition would discover, describe and reveal to us, by camera and by pen, beauty no less valuable than the knowledge.

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