lunatic, doing his best to keep the road clear. The men were hungry and, squashed between three of them on the front seat, I was making sandwiches with bread and savory spread.

We stopped at the Pen y Gwryd Hotel and were told that we weren't needed. Ogwen Cottage was up there and everything was under control. Here we picked up Jack Henson, a local instructor for the Mountaineering Association. Farther on, at Pen y Pass, we picked up Bill Trench and then drove the Land-Rover, bucketing and rearing, up the Coppermines track to Llyn Llydaw.

As we left the transport and started across the moraines, the rain stopped, but the cloud was down on the Lliwedd.

Lees tore along the shore of the lake and found a small crowd, including policemen, standing on the screes right underneath the Great Terrace, which was five hundred feet above them, covered with loose rocks, and where, we heard, the rescuers were now at work. Lees was told we weren't needed, Ogwen were lowering the man. We looked, but saw no stretcher, although there was a great deal of shouting on the face.

We turned and went along the foot of the cliff to the gully at the side by which an easy ascent can be made to the ridge. More climbers descending told us that the casualty was already being lowered.

Although I had every respect for Lees' judgement, I wondered if he were not being over-zealous. I needn't have worried. On a rescue, no one knew better than himself what was needed.

I plodded silently uphill, reflecting morosely that soon I would, in all probability, be plodding down again, having done nothing. It was very humid and I was carrying several ropes. A pigeon, grounded by the storm, eyed me brightly from a rock as I emerged on the ridge and met the wind. My whole body steamed and the wind was like a knife.

Most of us went solo down Terminal Arête to the Great Terrace. It was an unpleasant route to descend at speed because some of the holds were far apart and very polished. This was where Lees slipped when he was getting the body to the top some years before. Nails were better than vibrams here. Lliwedd is a dirty cliff on the whole. The men who carried the five-hundred-foot ropes were safeguarded down. These ropes had been issued at last. They were wound on wooden spools and carried on Everest carriers. An axle made from a radio aerial went through the spool when in use, and this was held on his knees by a man who sat behind the lowerer.

The Ogwen Cottage team were still on the Terrace when we arrived. The casualty had fallen from the crux of Red Wall when it was wet. He had put no runners on. He said he was in too much of a hurry once it started to rain. His second escaped with slight burns. The leader was conscious but he had fractured his arm and leg and had back injuries.

By the time we arrived, Ogwen had strapped him on the stretcher and had moved him about forty feet. They were preparing to lower him on their own ropes which were only three hundred feet long and would have to be knotted.

I had never seen the R.A.F. team work so quickly. In no time Lees had the five- Continue to Page 4