Thence it was an easy step over to the final chimney. A small spout of water as thick as one’s wrist was jetting from the top against the right wall, and we were inevitably in for a wetting in spite of the circumvention of the bridge. I essayed to finish the pitch before the others started from their ledge twenty feet below. A fairly good lodgment for the right foot was utilized and passed. The body had to be jammed across the chimney, the fingers seeking for a crevice high up on the right wall. When a slab is streaming with water and handholds can be found within easy reach, it is a good plan to keep ‘thumbs down’ as much as possible; for then the water will drain off by the thumbs, and run clear of the coat-sleeves. The strain is too great to operate in this way with arms at full length above the head. That was manifest in my trouble on the wall. The ice-cold water trickled down my arms and body, making me wet through in a few moments. But the horror of it came with the realization that I was unable to move backwards or forwards. The situation was almost critical, but not an unusual one for winter climbing in Cumberland. I could at any rate give it my cool consideration, and decide whether to call up the big one to help me or to try an independent descent. The men below saw me in trouble and made a move upwards towards the pitch. Then it occurred to me that the big one would not be able to force a way under the bridge, and that he might be a long time working over it, longer than I could manage to hold out. That decided me, and I started wriggling downwards. Luckily the hands were not yet benumbed, and by entire disregard of the main water-supply down the central line of flow, which now included the back of my neck, I managed to reach the platform again. Until my second came up it was useless to make another attempt, and indeed it was now eminently desirable that everybody should get wet. I am not an advocate for monopoly in such cases. With some slight inducement suggested by the rope, the big one pulled himself over the bridge and came up to the platform. Here he was invited to hold himself firmly against the wall, and give me his shoulders and head for elevating purposes. He was immediately drenched before I had effected a start up his mighty back, but there was a sense of perfect security now; it would be impossible to fall past him. As for the effect of cold and wet on him, we could neglect so small a consideration. In any case he would not feel it till the trouble was over. I thought of the old dynamics problem beginning: ‘Let a fly of mass m be crawling up the trunk of an elephant, whose mass may be neglected,’ and realized for the first time that there was some sense in the quaint hypothesis. Once on his shoulders I reached up to a dry ledge, dragged myself on to it, and thence strode across to the top of the pitch.