All around us was hidden in mist.  It was now within half an hour of sunset, but the ascent had cost so much trouble, and the country this summit commanded was so interesting to us that I was unwilling to descend without trying whether it might not be clear of clouds at sunrise.  We had not come prepared in any way to pass the night on such a wild and desolate spot, for we had neither clothing nor food, nor was there any shelter; but I was willing to suffer any privations for the attainment of the object of our ascent.  One man, Richardson, an old traveller, had most wisely brought his day’s provisions in his haversack, and these I divided equally among FIVE.  No rocks could be found near the summit to shelter us from the piercing wind and sleet.

NO FUEL.

The thermometer stood at 29 degrees, and we strove to make a fire to protect us from the piercing cold; but the green twigs, encrusted with icicles, could not by our united efforts be blown into a flame sufficient to warm us.  There was abundance of good wood AT THE FOOT OF THE CLIFFS—­huge trees of ironbark, stringybark and bluegum but, had we descended, a second ascent might have appeared too laborious on a mere chance of finding the summit clear; so we remained above.  The men managed to manufacture some tea in a tin pot, and into the water as it boiled I plunged a thermometer which rose to exactly 95 degrees of the centigrade scale.  We got through that night of misery as well as might have been expected under the circumstances, and we succeeded in keeping the fire alive although, while twigs were blown into red heat at one end, icicles remained at the other, even within a few inches of the flame.  In order to maintain it through the night we divided, at eleven o’clock, the stock of branches which had been gathered before dark into eight parcels, this being the number of hours we were destined to sit shivering there; and as each bundle was laid on the dying embers we had the pleasure at least of knowing that it was an hour nearer daylight.  I coiled myself round the fire in all the usual attitudes of the blacks, but in vain; to get warm was quite impossible, although I did once feel something like comfort when one of the men gave me for a seat a flat stone on which the fire had been blown for some hours.  Partial cessations in the fall of sleet were also cheering occasionally; but the appearance of stars two hours before daylight promised to reward our enterprise and inspired me with hope.

VIEW FROM IT AT SUNRISE.

July 15.

At six o’clock the sky became clear, the clouds had indeed left the mountain and, as soon as it was day, I mounted the frozen rock.  In the dawn however all lower objects were blended in one grey shade, like the dead colouring of a picture.  I could distinguish only a pool of water, apparently near the foot of the mountain.  This water I afterwards found to be a lake eight miles distant and in my map I have named it Lake Lonsdale, in honour of the Commandant