I have mentioned that the middle route up the Central Gully leads by easy stages to the upper portion of the right-hand branch. Some three years ago a strong party effected an ascent of the chimney that points directly up to the top of the cliff from the high ledge between the two routes. We found the main difficulty was in traversing over an open slab on the right of the foot of the chimney. The slab was split by a narrow fissure, but the handholds were slight and rather insecure. To have trusted to one alone would have been dangerous, and I recall with amusement the spread-eagle attitude of the leader as he endeavoured to distribute his weight equally on four rickety points of support. The position was good enough in itself, but to move involved a dangerous increase in the stress on one of the supports. Fortunately the second on the rope was able to offer an axe-head as additional security, and the passage to the left was effected in safety. The chimney was narrow and its sides smooth, but with the exception of a loose stone near the finish, which rattled down and tended to disturb our wedging, nothing seriously interfered with our advance. But there was one amongst us who, in expectation of falling stones, had thrust his head and shoulders into the little cave at the foot of the chimney. When the leader shouted to him he did not hear, and the accompanying pull on the rope resulted in the hitching of his shoulders firmly in the cleft and the elevation of his legs only. The previous evening we had been having a heated discussion as to the futility of naming the sides of a gully or cave after the manner of the banks of a river--_i.e._ of calling the ‘true’ right side of a gully its left and _vice-versâ_. Professor M., who was with us now, had been a listener to the discussion. Looking down from the top of the chimney and observing the unusual method of our friend’s ascent, he called out, ‘It’s all right, Jones, he is coming up well enough--the “true up.”’ SOUTH-EAST GULLY.--This in summer time can often be accomplished in half an hour if the climbers are few and in a hurry. Before December, 1896, I had not made a winter ascent; moreover, I had forgotten much of the detail. Thinking of climbing notes, I persuaded a small Christmas party to join me in exploring the gully under these new conditions. We were only a band of three ultimately, though at Kern Knotts, which we visited _en route_, our number was considerably larger. The other two were both experienced Alpine climbers, one a very tall man, the other very short. I was anxious to determine the advantages and disadvantages of size and weight, and to that end took the lead myself and placed the tall man second on the rope. We had but little wind, and the temperature was slightly above freezing-point.