day to succeed it. On this day hopes had run high; our clothes were dry,
the weather mild and promising, besides which, we were camped in the full
satisfaction of having a good many miles in hand. We cheerfully discussed
our arrival at the next depot, after which we knew that no anxieties need
be felt, given even moderately good luck and weather, that did not
include too great a proportion of blizzard days. The musical roar of the
primus and the welcome smell of the cooking pemmican whetted our
appetites deliciously, and as the three of us sat around the cooker on
our rolled up fur bags, the contented expression on our dirty brown faces
made our bearded ugliness almost handsome. We built wonderful castles in
the air as to what luxuries Lashly, who was a famous cook, should prepare
on our return to winter quarters. There we had still some of the New
Zealand beef and mutton stored in my glacier cave, and one thing I had
set my heart on was a steak and kidney pudding which my friend Lashly
swore to make me.

After the meal we unrolled our sleeping-bags and luxuriantly got into
them, for the recent fine weather had given us a chance to dry thoroughly
the fur and get the bags clear of that uncomfortable clamminess due to
the moisture from our bodies freezing until the sleeping-bags afforded
but little comfort. The weather looked glorious, there was not a cloud in
the sky, and towards 10 o'clock the sun was still visible to the S.S.W.
We could see it through the thin, green canvas tent wall as we turned in,
still in broad daylight, and the warmth derived from it made sleep come
to us quite easily.

I woke at five the next morning, and, rousing my companions, we were up
and about in a minute. The primus stove and cooking apparatus were
brought into the tent once more; our sleeping foot-gear was changed for
our marching finneskoe and good steel-spiked crampons fixed to the soft