Annapurna (13 page)

‘Wait a minute!’

Everyone was quiet.

‘It’s a long way from being settled. You must all know exactly what you’ve got to do. Three of us know the route taken on April 27th. Each of these three will accompany a party during the four days’ preliminary march.

‘Matha, Gaston and myself are only just back from Manangbhot, and we are very tired. And I’ve got a lot to do here, with letters and accounts – I must bring them up to date so as to know whether we shall need more money for our return journey. Lachenal and Terray will leave today, with the Sherpas Ajeeba, Angdawa and Dawathondup, and Schatz to show them the way.

‘A second group – Gaston and myself, guided by Couzy – will follow a day later. Noyelle will see to the regular provisioning of these groups, Ichac and Oudot will wait for instructions from me before coming on, and as this won’t be before six days at least, they will have time to go over together to Muktinath.’

‘What about Angtharkay?’ asked Ichac.

‘You can take him with you. And Noyelle and G. B. Rana will constitute the rearguard, and must not move up until I send word. Noyelle, you must prepare all the loads that are wanted for the reconnaissance, for the assault and the return, and organize the recruitment of porters against the time they’re needed.’

‘What about our equipment?’ inquired Lachenal.

‘Divide everything into four lots. The first, which you will take with you, must be very light – you must reserve your strength. The second lot – climbing gear, warm clothes, toilet things, etc. – will be carried by porters. The third lot will consist of everything necessary in the event of the reconnaissance being transformed into a full scale assault. That is to say – spare clothes, heavy equipment such as camp boots and sweaters. Finally the fourth lot, which will
consist
solely of what we need on our valley marches, will be put into containers labelled with your names and will remain at Tukucha.’

So everyone knew just what was in store for him, and what he must do. I called Angtharkay over and explained the plan. The camp immediately became a hive of tremendous activity. The first party was due to leave as soon as it was ready. Though they were not carrying much weight, the diversity of the objects they were taking gave rise to consultations, preparations and visits from tent to tent.

The doctor collected everything needed by the first group for a fairly long trip, through the jungle or high up on the mountains, in good or bad weather: the anti-toxic serum and the aspirin, sunburn cream and maxiton, vitamin B2 and bicarbonate of soda. He passed everyone as fit: it had taken three weeks for us all to get acclimatized and back to our normal form.

Terray sorted out his belongings most conscientiously: he painted his name on the container which would remain at the camp, and then got busy with the provisions. Lachenal, our equipment man, measured ropes and sorted out pitons.

Noyelle looked a bit worried: the negotiations with the Suba and G. B. Rana were difficult. He explained to them again and again that the horses asked for must really be produced at once. Eventually he got his way, but the wretched animals did not inspire much confidence: one was bandy-legged, another too old and his head nodded dismally. They did not look as if they could hold up even the length of the village!

Rucksacks were closed and the horses saddled – with what saddles! Our steeds were certainly not ‘pawing the ground impatiently’ – still, they were there. Everyone ran through his list of things in his head, praying that nothing had been forgotten. The Sherpas took up their loads, with a lot of kindly help from their friends, and shouts of ‘Good luck’ from those who were staying to those who were going. Then they were off.

While waiting for dinner in camp, I brought my accounts up to date and wrote a letter to Paris.

Tukucha, May 15th, 1950

My dear Devies,

We are just back from a long and tiring reconnaissance to the north of Annapurna, and I am writing at once to give you our news.

To begin with you can tell all our families that we are all very well indeed. Everybody’s in grand form, and Oudot’s tests confirm it. We’re all working splendidly together as a team. I can now report that the period of exploration is practically at an end.

Climbing:
Upon my return we went thoroughly into the technical situation: the various routes on Dhaulagiri are not only extremely difficult but also, on certain sections, highly dangerous. On the other hand Annapurna offers several possibilities.

So yesterday I took the decision to direct the Expedition’s efforts towards this objective, and to send off a large-scale reconnaissance at once, which can be transformed without loss of time into a definite assault.

Actually, while Dhaulagiri rises alone like a monstrous pyramid, Annapurna dominates a mighty range comprising about fifty summits over 23,000 feet high, some very high ridges, and an almost inaccessible upper basin, with probably only one line of weakness – a depression by which we shall make our attack.

Yours ever,

MAURICE HERZOG

Why did we all feel so melancholy? Was it because some of our friends were already off on the adventure? Or was it because there was still some element of indecision? Or was it simply that we were tired? I couldn’t say. So while Gaston snored away conscientiously in his sleeping-bag, I worked late on figures, making estimates and drawing up my budget till my eyes closed.

The camp slowly came to life next morning; people got up and began to get busy.

The second party was due to leave early in the afternoon. The kitchen smoked and the Sherpas bustled around the tents, while the village children stared wide-eyed. One of the locals placidly twirled his distaff as he looked on, another had his eye on an old tin which spelt treasure to him, and a third blew into an old tube of condensed milk and burst it with a frightful pop.

The porters began to arrive one by one. They had been told to come in the afternoon, so of course they turned up in the morning; they would just have to wait and watch us. Pansy, Sarki and Aila had their heads deep in their wide-open sacks. I kept an eye on them because, with an excess either of prudence or mistrust, they tended to take all their belongings along with them. I thought it quite unnecessary for them to be burdened with three pairs of trousers, but on the other hand I did not hesitate to load them up with extra ropes.

Sounds of Indian music reached me from the mess tent where Noyelle was trying to get the news on the wireless. This renewed contact with the world beyond turned our thoughts away for a moment from our tasks. What news had they of us in France? Here we had heard nothing from home – not a word; in spite of all our inquiries, complaints to the Nepalese, and special messengers, the mystery of our mail remained unsolved.

When our meal appeared we threw ourselves upon the food, making free, while we had the chance, of all condiments, vinegar and anything spicy.

Now it was time for the second party’s departure; yesterday’s scenes were repeated in an atmosphere of mounting excitement. Rébuffat supervised the provisions and Couzy the equipment. The horses arrived; by good luck the porters were there.

The afternoon was already well advanced, hot and thundery. Saying goodbye to Ichac, Noyelle and Oudot, we dug our heels into our horses’ flanks.

It was our turn to set out on the great adventure.

7

The Miristi Khola

WE PASSED ALONG
Tukucha’s main street at a gentle trot, through a crowd of lousy children, women scouring their pans and old men who observed us from their doorways; the Sahibs were up to something new.

The crossing of the Dambush Khola was a tricky operation. Perched up on our mounts we tried to avoid getting our boots wet, and might have managed it if we had not been obliged to keep close to our horses’ heads to guide them firmly through the rushing river, and if the local saddles had not had the disagreeable habit of slipping round the animals’ bellies, or the over-taut girths had not chosen the most inconvenient moments to give way. Rébuffat, who has long legs, crossed over boldly, with his feet in the water.

‘It’s better to get your feet wet,’ he explained, ‘than be soaked all over.’

On the broad plain of Tukucha we urged our steeds to a decent pace. One of the straps of Rébuffat’s saddle broke and he completely lost his balance; he did not seem to be aware of the comic figure he cut as he clung to his horse. I offered to change mounts with him but eventually we got things straight and galloped on.

Passing through the familiar villages of Khanti and Larjung we came to the little village of Dhumpu – extremely primitive, but with most friendly inhabitants – and then started up the slope to Lete. The
garawalas
, or grooms, who were waiting for us there were getting anxious: it was late – how were they going to get the horses back to Tukucha? Since the path was good, why should we not proceed with the horses and so save time? The grooms could trot along behind us. The moment came when we really had to dismount. The
garawalas
came up dripping with sweat and did not conceal their satisfaction at seeing the end of the gallop – nor did we, for that matter.

We started off along a poorish track which struck off to the left and which, according to Couzy, should lead us to the hamlet of Choya. Soon we came in sight of the village; there was a lot of
coming
and going at the first house, and coolies were climbing up and down a ladder. The sounds of laughter, singing and general hilarity led me to suspect that
chang
– rice-alcohol – was being generously distributed. Its sale is forbidden in Nepal; but that was no good reason for giving one’s guests a poor welcome!

Not long after we had left the village we came upon the main body of porters – whom I had sent on ahead, in view of the long march – comfortably settled in the cool grass with their loads lying round them. We shouted at them, and in the twinkling of an eye the loads were picked up and the porters disappeared with a rapidity of which I should not have thought them capable. As darkness fell we skirted some large boulders and came out on to an alp perched on the edge of a precipice. Sarki and Aila quickly got the tents up, unpacked the evening’s provisions and lit a great fire. It was late, and we ate our meal in silence and then all got into our sleeping-bags.

Next morning we soon found ourselves all together on a narrow track leading down to the river-bed. It was at this spot that, later on, Marcel Ichac and Jacques Oudot met a band of monkeys going up the valley. We now followed a path along the side of the cliff, and after a steep descent we emerged suddenly beside the Chadziou Khola, not, at this season, a very large stream. There was no difficulty about crossing it, but even for those who had been there before, it was quite impossible to make out the slightest vestige of a track on the other side where a stretch of thick and apparently impenetrable jungle seemed to run far up the mountain side. Couzy informed us that this was the last water until the evening of the next day, and we filled up every available container. The Sherpas and the porters went on drinking indefinitely, like camels.

The ascent began with a climb up a vertical slab of rock. The track went up in steep zigzags, obstructed by bamboos, dead tree-trunks and trees which straggled over the path in an attempt to reach the light, and the air was damp and heavy. Couzy and I embarked on a long discussion: we had got as far as Bergson and Jünger when we came upon a delightful meadow bright with snowdrops and a variety of other flowers.

‘It was here that Oudot, Schatz and I bivouacked on April 27th,’ said Couzy. Mountaineers are great lovers of routine, so we had lunch there. Tubes of condensed milk were passed round. Those
who
were not sick of this form of nourishment sucked concentrated fruit tablets, and while the last of the sweating porters were still arriving, the smoke curled up from our cigarettes. Couzy had grown meditative as a result of our discussion and Rébuffat thought of his little Dominique, of whom he had received no news.

Resuming our march, we suddenly found ourselves, at a turning of the path, in a grove of trees resplendent with brilliant coloured flowers whose names I did not know. No vaulted roof could have been more magnificent. The track went on across a beautiful clearing. Round us was a cemetery of charred deodars whose trunks rose well over a hundred feet high, and giant rhododendrons bordering our path hung out great clusters of pink and red flowers. The Sherpas rushed up to some trees like red birches, made holes in the trunks with their ice-axes, fixed an empty tin underneath and so got a few mouthfuls of fresh water.

We now climbed painfully up a desperately long and steep couloir full of loose stones.

‘There are lots of marmots here,’ said Rébuffat.

But though I kept my eyes skinned I did not see a single one. At the top, which must have been about 13,000 feet high, we stopped again to smoke a cigarette while we waited for the porters. They had gone splendidly so far, but I could see they were tired. The ground was becoming more difficult and their loads, which were held by straps round their foreheads, tended to make them overbalance downhill. It was rough and painful for their bare feet and they did not feel at all safe. Further on, we had to cross a large patch of snow where we enlarged the track and stamped it down, but our porters, doubled under the weight of the containers, looked most unhappy. I felt vaguely guilty as I walked along in my comfortable boots.

The weather turned really bad and it rained solidly. We kept together so as not to lose each other, and advanced by guess-work over the gentle slopes of an alp up to the cairn which marked the pass that was the goal of this day’s journey. We pitched the tents in an indescribable muddle; our only thought was to get under cover the minute they were up. We had climbed over 6000 feet in the day to reach the pass which we decided once for all to call ‘Pass of April 27th’. Couzy, Oudot and Schatz, who discovered it, deserved
great
credit for picking out the various vague tracks and following them up to the end.