Don't Count The Bus Stop

The two frogs eye Saint Roley suspiciously.

Science?

Yes, science, says Saint Roley. Do you know how you got here?

We were born here, says one frog.

Correction, says Saint Roley. You were dropped in the stream, as dead tadpoles.

The frogs goggle at one another.

I know it seems far fetched, says Saint Roley.

Dropped maybe, says one frog, but dead, no.

Obviously, says Saint Roley.

Then why should we believe you? asks the other.

I shall begin again, asks Saint Roley. You are the results of a scientific experiment.

Frankly, says one frog, we don't care. It seems nice here. There are one or two live tadpoles in the water. The temperature is balmy, and best of all there is little or no development, if you don't count the bus stop.

You seem to know a great deal for a newly formed frog, says Saint Roley.

We both do, says the other. But not much about science.

That's why I'm here, says Saint Roley. My colleagues down the road have lost all their tadpoles, and have sent me here on the off chance that you may have survived in this location.

How did they know we were here? asks one frog.

Yes, how? asks the other.

Arthur dropped you into the stream thinking you were no longer viable, says Saint Roley. Then he went up Chimborazo.

This Chimborazo? asks one frog.

This one, says Saint Roley. As far as I know there is no other.

The frogs are awestruck.

Hail Arthur, says one frog.

Hail Arthur, says the other.

This is how cults start.

.......

Sweezus, Paco, Pauline and Arthur have reached the second refuge known as the Whymper.

It is dusk. There is snow on the ground.

Just beyond here is a small lake, says Paco. Without a guide, no one can go further.

They enter the refuge.

Paco shows them the sleeping arrangements.

I'll light a fire, says Paco. Then you must rest until eleven.

Arthur doesn't want to rest until eleven.

He goes out to look for the lake.

The summit of Chimborazo pokes up behind rocks.

A Prussian appears, in black clothing.

This is as far as I got, says the Prussian.

Better luck next time, says Arthur.

There will not be a next time, says the Prussian. I am Alexander von Humboldt. Bólivar followed in my footsteps.

Enveloped in the cloak of Iris, says Arthur.

That was Bólivar! says Alexander von Humboldt.

Come back to the refuge says Arthur. You should meet Pauline. She's into Bólivar.

But Humboldt refuses.