k fast and rolled over helpless in the
snow. Even after we had unstrapped their baggage and carried it over on
our shoulders, they could make no headway. The muleteer gave up in
despair, and refused even to help us carry our loads to the top of an
adjoining hill, whither the zaptiehs had proceeded to wait for us. In
consequence, Raffl and we were compelled to carry two donkey-loads of
baggage for half a mile over the snow-beds and boulders, followed by the
sulking muleteer, who had deserted his donkeys, rather than be left alone
himself. On reaching the zaptiehs, we sat down to hold a council on the
situation; but the clouds, which, during the day, had occasionally
obscured the top of the mountain, now began to thicken, and it was not
long before a shower compelled us to beat a hasty retreat to a neighboring
ledge of rocks. The clouds that were rolling between us and the mountain
summit seemed but a token of the storm of circumstances. One thing was
certain, the muleteer could go no farther up the mountain, and yet he was
mortally afraid to return alone to the Kurdish robbers. He sat down, and
began to cry like a child. This predicament of their accomplice furnished
the zaptiehs with a plausible excuse. They now absolutely refused to go
any farther without him. Our interpreter, the Greek, again joined the
majority; he was not going to risk the ascent without the Turkish guards,
and besides, he had now come to the conclusion that we had not sufficient
blankets to spend a night at so high an altitude. Disappointed, but not
discouraged, we gazed at the silent old gentleman at our side. In his
determined countenance we read his answer. Long shall we remember Ignaz
Raffl as one of the pluckiest, most persevering of old men.

[Illustration: HELPING THE DONKEYS OVER A SNOW-FIELD.]

There was now only one plan that could be pursued. Selecting from our
supplies one small blanket, a felt mat, two long, stout ropes, enough food
to last us two days, a bottle of cold tea, and a can of Turkish raki, we
packed them into two bundles to strap on our backs. We then instructed the
rest of the party to return to the Kurdish encampment and await our
return. The sky was again clear at 2:30 P. M., when we bade good-by to our
worthless comrades and resumed the ascent. We were now at a height of nine
thousand feet, and it was our plan to camp at a point far enough up the
mountain to enable us to complete the ascent on the following day, and
r