From the Dinner Camp a very steep lift up a rocky slope, done gorilla fashion, with hands as well as feet, we came to the top of the main southern spur of the mountain at 3100 ft. (1:10 P.M.). Another 50 minutes of relatively easy travel, up and down along the narrow crest of the spur, brought us to Tick Camp at 2 o'clock (average of three aneroid readings - 3050 ft.). Here we found in the rainforest, on the edge of the precipitous eastern slop of the main southern spur, a simple palm-leaf shelter which had been built by Bill and Swen when they were on the mountain during Easter. A leaky lean-to about 9 ft. wide, with no walls, and a few still green palm leaves placed on the ground for a floor. Small pools in the coarse granite sane of a gully head, about 60 feet down the side of the spur on the east side, provided the only permanent water on the trail above our dinner camp. The gully crowded with Orania palms and treeferns, growing over an herbaceous undergrowth of robust, sword-leaved Helmholtzia. We stacked our packs under the leaky lean-to and in pelting rain Bill and Swen went after more palm leaves to enlarge and improve the shelter, while I brought water and started to light a fire. The boys had left a stick of green "ghit toe" hanging above the ground in the shelter. Ghit toe, green or dry, is supposed to burn under any conditions. This would not, nor would dry wood the boys brought in. We split it into slivers thin as a match, stacked the slivers carefully above the wet ground on flat-split billets, and still it would not burn. Wax matches were tried for kindling (my wooden matches, carried in an oiled silk tobacco pouch, were the only matches that would strike). Paper from my plant presses took up moisture so rapidly that the paper itself would not burn, let alone set fire to the wood. Rain kept pouring down, streaming through the roof, and oozing up through the ground. Our hands shook so with cold that it was hard to strike a match, or to arrange the delicate slivers of wood we were using, under the drip-proof shelter of Swen's wide felt hat. Finally, by use of butter, and a bit of waxed paper George had in his pack, we got a fire going and the billy on by 4:30. And did that fire smoke! A pungent, blinding smoke that drove us out into the rain to wipe our eyes and cough and puke. While the billy boiled, the boys started a big fire of dead logs under a skillion extension of the shelter, as a fire inside the shelter, big enough to keep us warm in the night, would soon have shrivelled the palm leaf roof with its heat. About 8:30, when the rain slackened off a bit, we did the best we could about making beds, changed into our dry clothes, and turned in. Lightweight plastic-coated nylon raincoats were a boon to George and me. Worn over our wet clothing, they kept the wind off us until we went to bed. Worn over our dry clothing while we slept, they retained our body heat and saved us from being soaked by water which dripped through the roof onto our blankets. With occasional attention through the night the logs burned well, and we all had a good sleep. Next morning about 8 o'clock we set out in steady light rain to climb the peak. It was steep going. Leeches were troublesome, but footing good, and we reached the 5000 foot summit of the South Peak at 10:55. The rainforest had changed gradually in composition as we ascended the mountain, but not greatly in general appearance. At about 100 ft. below the summit the trees began to diminish rapidly in height. They grew closer and closer together, woody undergrowth became abundant, and I noticed first trees of the remarkable dracaena-like heath, Dracophyllum Sayeri, then one or two examples of the flattish umbrella-topped Leptospermum mooroonooran - trees endemic to this mountain top. The limited, narrow-ridge summit carried a very densely packed, rigid low forest of elfin-wood