A short three months before this same spot witnessed the most terrible of all the Lakeland tragedies, when a party of skilful climbers fell from the north face of Scawfell Pinnacle. Even the historical accident on the first ascent of the Matterhorn, when all of a large party were killed but Mr. Whymper and two guides, palls before this home disaster, for here four Englishmen in the prime of their youth were suddenly called away. On September 21st, 1903, Messrs. Broadrick, Garrett, Jupp, and Ridsdale started from Wastdale Head for Scawfell, intent upon climbing the Pinnacle by the difficult route from Deep Ghyll. This they successfully accomplished, and afterwards redescended to the foot of the Pinnacle, where they had lunch with another climbing party, which was under Mr. W. E. Webb’s leadership. After lunch Mr. Webb’s party bade them _au revoir_ and went off to climb one of the cracks on the far end of the crags. After their climb they foregathered on Mickledore Ridge, and thence set off along the base of the cliff to regain their knapsacks, which had been left at the lunching-place. As they neared the foot of the Pinnacle they heard a shout, but thought it came from the valley below. Leisurely they rounded a corner, and there, about fifty yards away, in the vicinity of the screes where they had lunched, saw four figures stretched out and lying quite still. In a disconnected way they thought at first that these four figures were asleep, though it was a peculiar place to fall asleep in; then something unusual about their attitudes became apparent, and not till then did the awful reality flash upon them. They tore across the rough intervening ground and made a dreadful discovery. Only Mr. Ridsdale was alive, and even he was obviously too terribly injured to recover. As they approached he raised his head. “I’ve been shouting for hours,” he murmured. “I’m afraid the others are all gone, but look after them and don’t mind me.” As he feared, they were past human aid, and death had evidently visited them with merciful swiftness, for their bodies were already cold. It was now nearly six o’clock, and little could be done for poor Ridsdale, but Mr. Webb and another of his party stayed with him whilst the other ran down to Wastdale for help.