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320 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1947
...then I saw it. An ethereal mountain emerging from a tossing sea of clouds, framed between two dark barracks: a massive blue-back tooth of sheer rock, inlaid wit azure glaciers; austere yet floating fairy-like on the near horizon.
Golden-green sunrays filtered through the foliage and were broken into a thousand reflections on the stream, foaming among smooth, multicoloured stones....There were countless birds, from graceful sunbirds with slender beaks and bright colours, to harshly croaking lories showing in flight their blood-red wing feathers. Troops of monkeys jumped from branch to branch ....Butterflies of every size and colour dallied gracefully along the banks.
From one point of view it seems to me today that it was madness for two grown men, out of training for eight years, having spent twenty months in prison, debilitated by a backbreaking flight of nine days, by the weight of impossible rucksacks, and by a lack of food and sleep, having left from an irrationally distant and low base camp, to be prepared to go, in winter conditions, where mountaineers like Shipton and Tilman, vastly superior to them in technical terms, well trained, well nourished and aided by porters, had not wanted to go....from a purely spiritual side, however, which matters more to a true mountaineers, our ignorance was a genuine godsend.