This one's mostly cellulose (although Nine Hours to Rama--1962--did make it to the screen) and, expeditiously, charitably, it deals with a climb up into the Himalayas in an attempt to bring a Yeti (Abominable Snowman) back alive. Organized by one Hodge McNeill, a second-rate glory hunter, he's Joined by an anthropologist, a Nazi, a photographer, a dilettante, and as far as Delhi they're accompanied by their wives and/or loves, primarily an irresistible Israeli girl. It takes more than half of the book to get the expedition off the ground which is one way of saying that it drags its feet. Once the ascent is made, there's the pre-monitory death of a native, the erosion of nerves and tempers, the blinding snow and glacial wind, and accidents, fatalities. By the close (which has a rousing rape scene) there's only one real survivor. However none of the characters were ever more than questionably alive. And then there's the very plodding prose which makes most of The Expedition sheer trudgery.