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PROGRAMME NOW before us was clear-cut. First we should have to establish camp, unpack, check, list and sort out the equipment and food; for the next forty-eight hours everybody would have a definite job. They were soon at it, dirty, noisy and cheerful. Ichac delved into his precious crates of films and equipment, Oudot was deep in his dressings and medical supplies, and the Sherpas were pitching the tents, fixing up their kitchen, and helping the Sahibs stow everything away.
    The weather was superb, and this first day at headquarters the mountains were looking their very best. It was marvellous to get at last a proper view of the peaks all round us. The Gandaki Valley is a long rift between two immense mountain groups: the Dhaulagiri massif on the west rising to 26,795 feet, and the Annapurna massif on the east rising to 26,493 feet. Mist often lies in the depths of this rift, giving even greater majesty to the inaccessible walls that towered over us. The shapely Nilgiris, 1 the ‘blue mountains’, glittered nearly 15,000 feet above us. Towards the north the sky was much clearer, and as far as we could judge, vegetation was sparser up there towards Tibet.
    Tukucha is a maze of alleys, and the houses, regular little fortresses, are mostly caravanserais where passing travellers can find lodging for the night. The majority of the 500 inhabitants are Buddhists, whose piety can be judged from the wall of prayer-wheels, 50 yards long. Our Sherpas never omitted, when passing, to give a joyful turn to the metallic cylinders upon which sacred texts are engraved – a far more practical idea than the reciting of lengthy prayers.
    A caravan surrounded by a host of children had assembled not far from our camp, and everyone was talking hard – Tibetans, no doubt. The women wore very becoming coloured aprons, and their typically Mongolian faces were adorned with pats of cowdung applied to both cheeks. Confident in their power to charm, they laughed, exposing all their teeth. A crowd gathered, and suddenly a wild dance started. The dancers were silhouetted against a magnificent background of snowy mountains. The ballet, which appeared to express the eternal dualism of joy and sorrow, life and death, was perfectly controlled. Its beauty was rough and primitive, for a dance always reflects the spirit of a people.
    Abruptly they stopped. A Tibetan woman placed a copper dish in the centre of the circle; the dancers began to mime most expressively, and their gaze travelled from the dish to us and back again. With great dignity the Bara Sahib generously tossed in a few rupees. This was a great success. Immediately the dance began again, even wilder than before, and again they all stopped suddenly. The Bara Sahib was obliged once more to display his generosity.
    Since our arrival at Tukucha we had all nursed a secret hope of discovering a safe and easy ridge that would lead us straight to the summit of Dhaulagiri or Annapurna. The south-east ridge of Dhaulagiri, which was clearly marked on the map, and which we had seen from Baglung, gave some slight encouragement to this hope, but no one was very certain. Then there was the north ridge; it was undoubtedly ice, but, judging from the general structure of the mountain, its moderate angle and slight rise in height would make it very suitable for an attempt. Now, by pitching a few intermediate camps, we might … As for Annapurna, its proximity to the Tilicho track seemed to make it easily accessible, and for that very reason it lost a good deal of its interest from the climber’s point of view.
    Next day Couzy left with Pansy on a reconnaissance to make observations from the 13,000-foot point that dominates Tukucha and should command a wonderful view.
    At 11 A.M . I was in radio communication with them.
    ‘Coucou speaking. Just reached the top. The view is marvellous; Dhaulagiri dominates everything. The south-east ridge looks absolutely frightful. Very long, with lots of ice towers. Camp sites