It took me six minutes to reach the rock by the route none of the porters used.
The west side of the camp had a footpath that the survey work followed along the ridge, and this morning I had taken it because it would let me out of the camp without crossing the cookfire's line of sight.
It did not take me much to slip out of my tent, since I cut a hole through the back and left without alerting any of my friends, most importantly, Rex.
The path angled north-west for about two hundred meters, then bent south-east as the ridge curved.
At the bend, I stepped off the path and cut across open ground for another three hundred and fifty meters until I reached the rock.
The rock was a glacial deposit, weathered, the size of a small house, sitting alone at the southern edge of the open ground.
