Annapurna (28 page)

After hours of torpor, a voice mumbled, ‘Daylight!’ This made some impression on the others. I only felt surprised – I had not thought that daylight would penetrate so far down.

‘Too early to start,’ said Rébuffat,

A ghastly light spread through our grotto and we could just vaguely make out the shapes of each other’s heads. A queer noise from a long way off came down to us – a sort of prolonged hiss. The noise increased. Suddenly I was buried, blinded, smothered beneath an avalanche of new snow. The icy snow spread over the cavern, finding its way through every gap in our clothing. I ducked my head between my knees and covered myself with both arms. The snow flowed on and on. There was a silence. We were not completely buried, but there was snow everywhere. We got up, taking care not to bang our heads against the ceiling of ice, and tried to shake ourselves. We were all in our stockinged feet in the snow. The first thing to do was to find our boots.

Rébuffat and Terray began to search, and realized at once that they were blind. Yesterday they had taken off their glasses to lead
us
down, and now they were paying for it. Lachenal was the first to lay hands upon a pair of boots. He tried to put them on, but they were Rébuffat’s. Rébuffat attempted to climb up the shoot down which we had come yesterday, and which the avalanche had followed in its turn.

‘Hi, Gaston! What’s the weather like?’ called up Terray.

‘Can’t see a thing. It’s blowing hard.’

We were still groping for our things. Terray found his boots and put them on awkwardly, unable to see what he was doing. Lachenal helped him, but he was all on edge and fearfully impatient, in striking contrast to my immobility. Terray then went up the icy channel, puffing and blowing, and at last reached the outer world. He was met by terrible gusts of wind that cut right through him and lashed his face.

‘Bad weather,’ he said to himself, ‘this time it’s the end. We’re lost … we’ll never come through.’

At the bottom of the crevasse there were still two of us looking for our boots. Lachenal poked fiercely with an ice-axe. I was calmer and tried to proceed more rationally. We extracted crampons and an axe in turn from the snow, but still no boots.

Well – so this cavern was to be our last resting-place! There was very little room – we were bent double and got in each other’s way. Lachenal decided to go out without his boots. He called out frantically, hauled himself up on the rope, trying to get a hold or to wriggle his way up, digging his toes into the snow walls. Terray from outside pulled as hard as he could: I watched him go; he gathered speed and disappeared.

When he emerged from the opening he saw the sky was clear and blue, and he began to run like a madman, shrieking, ‘It’s fine, it’s fine!’

I set to work again to search the cave. The boots
had
to be found, or Lachenal and I were done for. On all fours, with nothing on my hands or feet, I raked the snow, stirring it round this way and that, hoping every second to come upon something hard. I was no longer capable of thinking – I reacted like an animal fighting for its life.

I found one boot! The other was tied to it – a pair! Having ransacked the whole cave I at last found the other pair. But in spite of all my efforts I could not find the camera, and gave up in despair. There was no question of putting my boots on – my hands
were
like lumps of wood and I could hold nothing in my fingers; my feet were very swollen – I should never be able to get boots on them. I twisted the rope round the boots as well as I could and called up the shoot:

‘Lionel … boots!’

There was no answer, but he must have heard, for with a jerk the precious boots shot up. Soon after the rope came down again. My turn. I wound the rope round me; I could not pull it tight so I made a whole series of little knots. Their combined strength, I hoped, would be enough to hold me. I had no strength to shout again; I gave a great tug on the rope, and Terray understood.

At the first step I had to kick a niche in the hard snow for my toes. Further on I expected to be able to get up more easily by wedging myself across the tunnel. I wriggled up a few yards like this and then I tried to dig my hands and my feet into the wall. My hands were stiff and hard right up to the wrists and my feet had no feeling up to the ankles; the joints were inflexible and this hampered me greatly.

Somehow or other I succeeded in working my way up, while Terray pulled so hard he nearly choked me. I began to see more distinctly and so knew that I must be nearing the opening. Often I fell back, but I clung on and wedged myself in again as best I could. My heart was bursting, and I was forced to rest. A fresh wave of energy enabled me to crawl to the top. I pulled myself out by clutching Terray’s legs;
he
was just about all in and I was in the last stages of exhaustion. Terray was close to me and I whispered:

‘Lionel … I’m dying!’

He supported me and helped me away from the crevasse. Lachenal and Rébuffat were sitting in the snow a few yards away. The instant Lionel let go of me I sank down and dragged myself along on all fours.

The weather was perfect. Quantities of snow had fallen the day before and the mountains were resplendent. Never had I seen them look so beautiful – our last day would be magnificent.

Rébuffat and Terray were completely blind; as he came along with me Terray knocked into things and I had to direct him. Rébuffat, too, could not move a step without guidance. It was terrifying to be blind when there was danger all round. Lachenal’s
frozen
feet affected his nervous system. His behaviour was disquieting – he was possessed by the most fantastic ideas:

‘I tell you we must go down … down there …’

‘You’ve nothing on your feet!’

‘Don’t worry about that.’

‘You’re off your head. The way is not there … it’s to the left!’

He was already standing up; he wanted to go straight down to the bottom of the glacier. Terray held him back, made him sit down, and though he couldn’t see, helped put his boots on.

Behind them I was living in my own private dream. I knew the end was near, but it was the end that all mountaineers wished for – an end in keeping with their ruling passion. I was consciously grateful to the mountains for being so beautiful for me that day, and as awed by their silence as if I had been in church. I was in no pain, and had no worry. My utter calmness was alarming. Terray came staggering towards me, and I told him: ‘It’s all over for me. Go on … you have a chance … you must take it … over to the left … that’s the way.’

I felt better after telling him that. But Terray would have none of it: ‘We’ll help you. If we get away, so will you.’

At this moment Lachenal shouted: ‘Help! Help!’

Obviously he didn’t know what he was doing … Or did he? He was the only one of the four of us who could see Camp II down below. Perhaps his calls would be heard. They were shouts of despair, reminding me tragically of some climbers lost in the Mont Blanc massif whom I had endeavoured to save. Now it was our turn. The impression was vivid: we were lost.

I joined in with the others: ‘One … two … three …
Help!
One … two … three …
Help!
’ We tried to shout all together, but without much success; our voices could not have carried more than ten feet. The noise I made was more of a whisper than a shout. Terray insisted that I should put my boots on, but my hands were dead. Neither Rébuffat nor Terray, who were unable to see, could help much, so I said to Lachenal: ‘Come and help me put my boots on.’

‘Don’t be silly, we must go down!’

And off he went once again in the wrong direction, straight down. I was not in the least angry with him: he had been sorely tried by the altitude and by everything he had gone through.

Terray resolutely got out his knife, and with fumbling hands slit the uppers of my boots back and front. Split in two like this I could get them on, but it was not easy and I had to make several attempts. I lost heart – what was the use of it all anyway since I was going to stay where I was? But Terray pulled violently and finally he succeeded. He laced up my now gigantic boots, missing out half the hooks. I was ready now. But how was I going to walk with my stiff joints?

‘To the left, Lionel!’

‘You’re crazy, Maurice,’ said Lachenal, ‘it’s to the right, straight down.’

Terray did not know what to think of these conflicting views. He had not given up, like me: he was going to fight; but what, at the moment, could he do? The three of them discussed which way to go.

I remained sitting in the snow. Gradually my mind lost grip – why should I struggle? I would just let myself drift. I saw pictures of shady slopes, peaceful paths, there was a scent of resin. It was pleasant – I was going to die in my own mountains. My body had no feeling – everything was frozen.

‘Aah … aah!’

Was it a groan or a call? I gathered my strength for one cry: ‘They’re coming!’ The others heard me and shouted for joy. What a miraculous apparition! ‘Schatz … It’s Schatz!’

Barely 200 yards away Marcel Schatz, waist-deep in snow, was coming slowly towards us like a boat over the surface of the slope. I found this vision of a strong and invincible deliverer inexpressibly moving. I expected everything of him. The shock was violent, and quite shattered me. Death clutched at me and I gave myself up.

When I came to again the wish to live returned and I experienced a violent revulsion of feeling. All was not lost! As Schatz came nearer my eyes never left him for a second – twenty yards – ten yards – he came straight towards me. Why? Without a word he leant over me, held me close, hugged me, and his warm breath revived me.

I could not make the slightest movement – I was like marble. My heart was overwhelmed by such tremendous feelings and yet my eyes remained dry.

‘Well done, Maurice. It’s marvellous!’

15

The Avalanche

I WAS CLEAR-
headed and delirious by turns, and had the queer feeling that my eyes were glazed. Schatz looked after me like a mother, and while the others were shouting with joy, he put his rope round me. The sky was blue – the deep blue of extreme altitude, so dark that one can almost see the stars – and we were bathed in the warm rays of the sun. Schatz spoke gently:

‘We’ll be moving now, Maurice, old man.’

I could not help obeying him with a good grace, and with his assistance I succeeded in getting up and standing in balance. He moved on gradually, pulling me after him. I seemed to make contact with the snow by means of two strange stilt-like objects – my legs. I could no longer see the others; I did not dare to turn round for fear of losing my balance, and I was dazzled by the reflection of the sun’s rays.

Having walked about a couple of hundred yards, and skirted round an ice wall, without any sort of warning, we came upon a tent. We had bivouacked 200 yards from the camp. Couzy got up as I appeared, and without speaking held me close and embraced me. Terray threw himself down in the tent and took off his boots. His feet, too, were frost-bitten; he massaged them and beat them unmercifully.

The will to live stirred again in me. I tried to take in the situation: there was not much that we could do – but we should have to do whatever was possible. Our only hope lay in Oudot; only he could save our feet and hands by the proper treatment. I heartily agreed to Schatz’s suggestion that we should go down immediately to the lower Camp IV which the Sherpas had re-established. Terray wanted to remain in the tent, and as he flailed his feet with the energy of despair he cried out:

‘Come and fetch me tomorrow if necessary. I want to be whole, or dead!’

Rébuffat’s feet were affected, too, but he preferred to go down to Oudot immediately. He started the descent with Lachenal and
Couzy
, while Schatz continued to look after me, for which I was deeply grateful. He took the rope and propelled me gently along the track. The slope suddenly became very steep, and the thin layer of snow adhering to the surface of the ice gave no foothold; I slipped several times, but Schatz, holding me on a tight rope, was able to check me.

Below there was a broad track: no doubt the others had let themselves slide straight down towards the lower Camp IV, but they had started an avalanche which had swept the slope clear of snow, and this hardly made things easier for me. As soon as we drew in sight of the camp the Sherpas came up to meet us. In their eyes I read such kindliness and such pity that I began to realize my dreadful plight. They were busy clearing the tents which the avalanche had covered with snow. Lachenal was in a corner massaging his feet; from time to time Pansy comforted him, saying that the Doctor Sahib would cure him.

I hurried everyone up; we must get down – that was our first objective. As for the equipment, well it could not be helped; we simply must be off the mountain before the next onslaught of the monsoon. For those of us with frost-bitten limbs it was a matter of hours. I chose Aila and Sarki to escort Rébuffat, Lachenal and myself. I tried to make the two Sherpas understand that they must watch me very closely and hold me on a short rope. For some unknown reason, neither Lachenal nor Rébuffat wished to rope.

While we started down, Schatz, with Angtharkay and Pansy, went up to fetch Terray who had remained on the glacier above. Schatz was master of the situation – none of the others were capable of taking the slightest initiative. After a hard struggle, he found Terray:

‘You can get ready in a minute,’ he said.

‘I’m beginning to feel my feet again,’ replied Terray, now more amenable to reason.

‘I’m going to have a look in the crevasse. Maurice couldn’t find the camera and it’s got all the shots he took high up.’

Terray made no reply; he had not really understood, and it was only several days later that we fully realized Schatz’s heroism. He spent a long time searching the snow at the bottom of the cavern, while Terray began to get anxious; at last he returned triumphantly carrying the camera which contained the views taken from the
summit
. He also found my ice-axe and various other things, but no cine-camera, so our last film shots would stop at 23,000 feet.