My equipment consisted of the camera, theodolite, and a small plane-table--to help in identifying triangulated points--by way of instruments, which were carried by three coolies who remained with me. Ten other coolies slept at the base camp at Kyetr[=a]k, and carried stores up to me or moved the camp, as required; the camp consisted of a Whymper tent for the three coolies and a Meade for myself; bedding, food, a Primus stove and tin of kerosene for my own cooking, and yak dung fuel for the coolies. My servant remained at the base camp and sent up cooked meat and vegetables; otherwise I cooked for myself. June 29 and 30 were useless days; but on July 1 the weather cleared a bit, and after crossing the glacier, I went up a sharp rock shoulder of Cho Rapzang. The peak was mainly loose granite blocks at a steep angle, so that progress was slow: it was noon when I reached the top (about 19,500 feet), and as I did so the clouds settled down, and it began to snow. However, at 4 p.m. it cleared sufficiently for some work to be done; after that we came down as quickly as possible in another blinding snowstorm, and reached camp just after dark; I for one very tired. I found the coolies exceedingly slow in coming down the loose blocks, I think because their balance was bad--they had to use their hands far more than I did. I had a good view of the glacier from here: the East side is very steep and broken, with several tributary glaciers flowing down from Cho Oyu and Pk. 25,909, and from a 23,000-foot Peak (not triangulated) to the North of the latter. The West side, except for Cho Rapzang, round which the glacier flows, is a snowfield falling more or less gently from a low ridge running from the pass to the West of Cho Rapzang. The glacier itself is like many others in this region, moraine covered for 3 or 4 miles above its snout, "pinnacled" for another mile, and finally practically flat. But this flat portion gives by no means good going; when frozen it is very irregular and trying to walk over; and when thawed, is slushy and water soaked. There are two large water channels in the ice which are unpleasant to cross; these are from 10 to 15 feet wide and 20 feet deep, and carry a large volume of water in the afternoon. Crossing without a rope is distinctly dangerous, for although one can find places easy enough to jump, a slip would be certain death, for once in the channel it would be quite impossible to get out, or even to stop oneself on its smooth ice floor and sides.