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I left the camp at six a.m. on the twenty-first. I was now in really mountainous country. The valley 
was gorgeously wild, it glowed with rich bright grass and masses of marvellous flowers. There was 
an admirable track. The day was fine and I had views of both Little and Big Kabru (21,290 and 
24,015 feet respectively) but Kangchenjunga itself was hidden in clouds. I have rarely enjoyed a 
mountain walk so thoroughly and my heart was uplifted by the excellence of our prospects. 
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It sang within me. I was already at fourteen or fifteen thousand feet, less than a fortnight our from 
the base, in perfect physical condition, not an ounce of my reserve of strength yet called upon; a 
perfectly clear course to the peak in front of me, the mountain scarce five miles away, the weather 
looking better all the time, and none of the extremes of temperature which had been so frightful on 
Chogo Ri. No sign that wind was likely to give any trouble. In short, not one dark spot upon the 
horizon. 
Camp 2, though no place for a golf course, as the game is at present played, possesses the great 
advantage of being a perfect Pisgah. The summit of Kangchenjunga is only two miles away and I am 
able to see almost the whole of the debatable ground which my reconnaissance from above 
Darjeeling had denied me. I climbed to a short distance above the camp: the last doubt 
disappeared. The level glacier stretched less than a mile away. Thence rose a ridge covered by 
steep glacier except at its eastern edge, where there was a patch of bare rock with scarcely any 
interruption from ice. This rock was cut away on its right by a terrific precipice, sheer to the lower 
glacier, but there was no reason why anyone should fall off. The rocks were of the character --- 
easy slabs --- of those of the Eiger above the little Scheideck, the precipice being on the right hand 
instead of on the left. The slabs ended in a level space of snow jutting beyond the glacier above, 
and therefore safe from any possible avalanche. The place would make an admirable camp. 
Thence, one could work a way to the west; and, avoiding a patch of s‚racs, ascend steep slopes of 
ice (covered at present by snow) which led directly to the great snow basin which lies, as one may 
say, in the embrace of Kangchenjunga. These slopes were the critical point of the passage. It 
intended to fix a long knotted rope at the top, if necessary, to serve as hand-hold for the coolies, it 
being now certain that we could establish our main camp at the foot of Jacob's Rake. Certain, that 
is, bar the interference of absolute perversity. 
The following day showed me that such perversity was only too likely to put a spoke in the wheel. 
The arrangement was that I was to find my way to Camp 3, which I had already been able to choose 
through my glasses. I left Tartarin and Reymond in charge of the bulk of the coolies, having pointed 
out to them the best way across the glacier. It was more or less intricate going compared with 
Piccadilly, but it was certainly less trouble than an average march on the Baltoro. My object in 
going ahead was merely to make sure that Camp 3 was as favourable as it looked from a distance. It 
was. There was a broad level plateau of loose stones marked by a big boulder, which I called 
Pioneer boulder, for a variety of reasons, all referring ironically to "Pioneer Peak". This plateau was 
perhaps seven hundred to a thousand feet above the glacier. 
I must here remark that I cannot pretend to any accuracy about either 
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heights or distances. Tartarin was in charge of the surveying and I do not know whether he took 
proper observations at all. All I can say is that Professor Garwood's map is seriously wrong in many 
important points. I could do little more than make shots at my position by dead reckoning. I settled 
down quite comfortably at Camp 3 and sent a man down to find the main body and tell them it was 
all right, and they were to come up. Most unfortunately, it was misty. I could not see what had 
happened. And if I had been able to, I might almost have doubted my eyes. The coolies were coming 
--- Oh ho! oh ho! --- in a long circular route round the head of the glacier, for no reason at all. The 
weather cleared towards evening and there they were, within shouting distance, within three 
quarters of an hour's easy going for the slowest men, up excellent slopes on firm rocky ground.