Being human, each climber would naturally have wished that he himself might be in the first of the successive pairs of climbers which would carry out the assault. The mountain might be carried at the first assault and the other pairs not have a chance. Or, even if the first pair failed, the monsoon or some tempest, might prevent more than one pair making an attempt. The odds were on the first pair. And Norton as the leader might very well have put himself in the first pair. But as we have seen he had chivalrously stood down. Not his own personal fame but the success of the whole Expedition was the one and only thing he had in mind now at the climax as it had been from the first. Every little act that would contribute towards success was to be done. Every little act that might foil success was to be shunned. So now it was to be Mallory and Geoffrey Bruce, who at the moment seemed to be palpably the strongest of the climbers, who were to make the first assault and it was hoped gain the great prize.
They set off from Camp III on June 1st, taking with them nine of the “Tigers.” The weather was again perfect and they were full of hope. On their way to the North Col they fixed the rope ladder on the ice wall below the chimney in the crevasse so as to make things easier for laden porters. And on arrival at Camp IV they found Odell and Irvine already established there prepared to fulfil the function of supporters, attend to the comfort of exhausted climbers after an assault, have warm meals ready, and succour returning parties of porters.
On June 2nd Mallory and Geoffrey Bruce with their nine porters set out for the real assault on the mountain. They hoped to establish Camp V the first day, Camp VI the second, and be on the summit the third. And it was not an unreasonable hope, for the weather conditions remained perfect, the sky was clear and there were no signs yet of the monsoon. Alas! in the Himalaya a bright sun and a clear sky as a rule mean wind. Between the heated plains and the icy peaks strong currents of air are set in motion. And no sooner had Mallory’s party got outside the shelter of the ice blocks on the North Col than they were struck with the full blast of the raging air sweeping on the mountain from the north-west. The party was provided with wind-proof clothing, but it was of no more avail than are “waterproofs” against tropical rain. The wind tore through windproof garments, through woollen garments, through the very flesh, right into the bones. It penetrated everything. And it not only penetrated: it exerted pressure. Laden porters could scarcely keep their foothold against it.
Norton describes the mountain above North Col as an “easy rock peak with no ice or crevasses.” But he was addressing the Alpine Club when he used the word “easy” and the Alpine Club speak in a different language from the rest of the world. The mountain may be easy in this language, but it must obviously be steep or snow would be lying on it. And how steep it is we can gather from the fact that whenever we hear of a climber dropping anything we also invariably hear that it has disappeared. Through this tearing wind the party had to make their way up the steep rocky Face Edge of Everest.
Camp V was to have been established on the east or sheltered side of the ridge at about 25,800 feet. But at about 25,000 feet the porters became exhausted. (It is well again to remind ourselves that before the Everest Expedition 24,600 feet was the highest altitude attained by any man, even unladen.) Only four porters were game. The remainder had deposited their loads, unable to come on. Mallory had to stop, therefore, and organize a camp while Geoffrey Bruce and the sturdy Lobsang went back twice and carried up the missing loads on their own backs. It was a gallant effort – for Lobsang, because he had already carried his own load up; and for Bruce, because he had not, like the porters, been accustomed all his life to carrying loads on mountains – or anywhere else.
“Two fragile little tentlets perched on an almost precipitous slope,” in Norton’s words, now were dignified with the style and title of Camp V. Five porters, according to plan, were returned to the North Col supporting Camp and three of the best were kept to carry on one more tent to form a camp 2000 feet higher.
The next morning, June 3rd, Mallory and Bruce should have set out for the summit. But even over-night they had not been hopeful of the men. The wind had entered not only their bones but their hearts. It had chilled all the spirit in them. And next morning neither Bruce nor Mallory could make anything of them. One was ready to go on. The other two professed themselves sick. Geoffrey Bruce, like his older cousin General Bruce, has a great way with these hill-men. But nothing even he could do could stir them. Moreover, Bruce himself was suffering the penalty of carrying those loads on the previous day, and his heart was strained. There was nothing for it but to return to the North Col. The first attempt, upon which the Expedition had counted so much, had failed.
Now as Mallory and Bruce were leaving Camp V downward, Norton and Somervell, timed to follow them a day behind, were heaving Camp IV upward. And the parties met in between the two camps. The sight of Mallory coming back was a nasty blow to Norton. It meant one less chance of reaching the summit. It might mean also that no porters at all would be able to carry a camp any higher than 25,000 feet, and this would mean an end of every chance. It was a bad look-out. However, while Mallory and Bruce pursued their way downward to the North Col, there to be welcomed and refreshed by Odell and Irvine, who were now the very valuable supporting party on which Norton, after his own experience in 1922, set so much store, Norton and Somervell proceeded upward. They, too, experienced the biting Everest wind. But they were able to reach Camp V and there they kept four of their porters in the hopes that on the morrow they would be willing to carry one tent to about the 27,000 feet level. These four porters had to sleep in one of the tents fixed by Mallory, while the two climbers slept in the other. Norton and Somervell found the floor of their tent had been well-levelled by their predecessors and, after making a good meal of pemmican and “bully” beef, coffee and biscuits, they spent a fair night, sleeping at least half of it – and this latter is an important point, for it had formerly been supposed that sleep at so high an altitude would be impossible.
The crux, however, was whether the porters would or would not go on the next day. Norton says he had gloomy forebodings that night: there was nothing whatever in the attitude of the porters to encourage him to hope that he and Somervell would next day succeed any better than Mallory and Bruce in getting men to carry loads higher. On the following morning the two climbers rose at five o’clock to tackle the problem, and the next few hours were one of the great turning points in the history of Everest exploration. If these porters, as well as Mallory’s, proved to be unfit or unwilling to go on, not only would the Expedition end in failure but any future Expedition would be discouraged: they would almost take it for granted that porters could not carry loads beyond 25,000 feet.
If we are to understand what men are like at five o’clock in the morning on the face of Mount Everest we must recall what bees are like on a cold autumn morning. Ordinarily these busy little beings are full of life and activity. Now they can scarcely move; they are numbed; they have neither energy nor intelligence; the spring of being is almost gone out of them. The porters were just like that, and probably Norton himself was not very much livelier. When he got down to the men’s tent groans were the only answer he got to his questions. But he then did a very wise thing. He induced them to cook and eat a meal, and he went back and had some breakfast himself. After breakfast things look better than they do before. On an empty stomach all things seem impossible. Certainly, carrying loads up Mount Everest would. After breakfast even that might be considered.
All having fed, Norton addressed himself to the task. The struggle which now ensued between him and the four porters was essentially a struggle of spirit. All that organization could do had been done. Thought could do no more. It was simply a question whether spirit could be induced to drive the body any further. And this depended not so much upon will power as upon imagination. And here again Norton showed wisdom. He appealed to the imagination: and it is by the imagination that we are all carried along on great enterprises. There was no holding a pistol to their heads; no physical force; no threats; nor even bribing by money. He simply painted for the porters a picture of themselves covered with honour and glory and receiving praises from every one; and he told them how their names would be inscribed in letters of gold in the book which would be written to describe their achievement if only they would carry loads to 27,000 feet. It was a master-stroke. The appeal was made straight to their manhood. “Show yourselves men and you will be honoured by men,” was in effect what Norton said. And Norton and Somervell could make the appeal, for they had shown themselves men and good comrades by the way in which they had gone back at great risk to their lives, their health, and the success of the whole Expedition, to rescue those four porters marooned on the North Col. To their everlasting honour the porters now responded. Three, at least, did: the other was really too ill. Their names my readers should turn into gold as they read them. They are:
Napboo Yishay
Lhakpa Chedi
Semchumbi
The critical point had been turned and an advance instead of a retreat was made. And once they were off the men went well – though Semchumbi, through suffering from a blow on the knee, went somewhat lame and had to be shepherded by Somervell who was himself feeling his throat very badly, and had constantly to stop and cough. The easy scree of the first day’s climb became looser as they climbed higher, and energy as well as temper suffered, says Somervell, in the weary plod from 25,000 to 26,800 feet, when the scree gives place to sloping slabs covered with small stones, which render footing precarious. And halts were needed to help them to keep breathing sufficiently to meet their bodily needs. But the weather continued fine and the wind was markedly less severe than on the day before. As they passed the highest point which they and Mallory had reached in 1922 – and which was of course by a long way the record height man had then reached – their spirits rose. They were going to camp higher still. And given another clear day and good conditions what might they not achieve!
So they progressed till about 1.30, when it was evident that the gallant Semchumbi could go no farther. A narrow cleft in the rocks facing north and affording the suggestion – it was little more – of some shelter from the north-west wind, was selected. Norton set the two leading porters to scrape and pile the loose stones forming the floor of the cleft into the usual platform for a tent. On it the tiny tent for the two climbers was pitched; and this was Camp VI, 26,800 feet. A tent had been set at an altitude no less than 11,000 feet higher than the summit of Mont Blanc.
The situation was far from ideal, but it seemed the best available, and on Everest, says Somervell, you have got to take what you can get and be thankful. While Norton remarks that in two excursions up and down the whole length of the North Arête (the North Face Edge) of Mount Everest he never saw a single spot affording the 6-foot square level area on which a tent could be pitched without having to build a platform.
The diminutive “camp” having been pitched the three porters were dispatched back to the North Col camp. They had played their part heroically and established for ever the all-important point that a tent can be pitched within climbable distance of the summit. And now the climbers were left alone to do their part.
But before they actually commenced the climb a night had to be spent in the camp and a second very important point had to be cleared up. Could men sleep at nearly 27,000 feet? By the next morning that question also had been answered – and answered favourably. Norton entered in his diary for that day, “Spent the best night since I left Camp I.” Perhaps a sense of relief from anxiety about the porters had something to do with this. Anyhow there was the fact and it is one of great value. Somervell did not get so much sleep as Norton, but he records that “when morning arrived we were well rested and untroubled by breathing and other effects of great altitudes.”
These two facts – that porters can carry a tent to near the 27,000-feet line, and that climbers can sleep there – are two of the most important results of this third Expedition.