The snow of the recent fall had been whipped away, and the surface of the mountain, here perilously steep, was now sleek and solid with ice.

Bull looked gloomily toward the summit so close above him, and the ice glimmered in the dull light.

There was only one way to make even the attempt.

He sat down, took off his snowshoes, strapped them to his back, and began to work his way up the slope, battering out each foothold with the head of his ax.

It was possible to ascend in this manner, but it would be practically impossible to descend.
Once committed to this way, he had either to go on to the summit, or else perish.