When the avalanche came to rest, four of them managed to extricate themselves with more or less difficulty (one man was almost completely buried), but there was no sign of the fifth. This was the one who had been left tunnelling when his friend went across to speak to the larger party. The rope connected to him ran straight into the avalanche debris.

They thought he must be close to the surface as they managed to recover about sixty feet of rope. They were afraid to dig with their axes, and started shovelling with their hands. Someone went for assistance.

The avalanche fell at 3.0 p.m. The R.A.F. arrived about 7.0 p.m. and started to dig with spades, but it was 10.30 p.m. before the body was recovered. It had been buried under fifteen feet of snow. The skull was fractured and the snow was so heavy and deep that the man must have died instantly.

Mason was surprised to find on this call-out that only two members of the team had any experience worth the name, and, of the remainder, none had any idea how to use an ice axe. He set to work to improve the standard with an intensive training programme: rock climbing, snow and ice work, navigation, rope technique. He found that the ropes in use were still of sisal although listed on the inventory as manilla hemp. He became involved in a kind of paper battle with Air Ministry over this, the result being that the ropes were sent to the testing laboratories of the Ministry of Supply where they were proved to be sisal.

In his ignorance of R.A.F. procedure he short-circuited the usual channels and his complaints and protests found their way to higher authorities than had been customary in the past. This happy accident resulted, not in a reprimand, but in the suggestion that he should draw up a new inventory of equipment and a training programme.

In the meantime Easter 1951 arrived - which was to become known, in the Press and locally, as the Black Easter.

Over some Easters, even in the mountains, there is a heat-wave. One may sunbathe in still air on a summit with not a snowdrift in sight. In the valleys at this time, the buds are bursting, there are lambs and spring flowers in the meadows.

But conditions above two thousand feet are less predictable than the weather. Even if it was grey and raining at sea level, that Easter of 1951, there were still lambs and flowers and bursting buds. It was spring. The walkers, undaunted by the weather, took their spring walks.

Below the summit of Snowdon a great ice cap, legacy of the hard winter, covered the railway track and the easiest summer path to the hotel on top. In one place the railway runs across the top of a steep Continue to page 7