As we trudged along we watched the mist which clothed the distant hills uncurl from their summits and roll back into rising sheets of vapour which finally dispersed and left a cloudless sky. The awful absence of life struck strong notes within us. Even our feet made no noise at all, clad in their soft fur boots, for we could no longer pull on ski owing to the increasing weight of ice collecting in our sleeping-bags and on the sledging equipment.
We were disappointed as the day progressed, for the sky became overcast and the wind blew stronger and stronger from the W.S.W: with low drifts, and at 8.30 p.m., it being too dark to see properly, we camped. By the time our tent was pitched a fair blizzard was upon us, and by 10 o'clock the camp was well snowed up. In spite of the howling wind we made all snug inside, and the temperature rose to such an extent that we got quite a good night's rest.
The blizzard continued throughout the night, but on the following day the wind took off somewhat, and by the afternoon it was fine enough for us to make a start again, which we did in a biting cold wind. We marched on until nightfall, covering about seven and a half miles.
On the 13th September, having shivered in my bag all night, at five o'clock I told my companions to get up, both of them being awake. The cold had been so dreadful that none of us had slept a wink, and we were not at all surprised on looking at the thermometer when we found the temperature was 73.3 degrees below zero, Fahrenheit.
We cooked a meal and then prepared to scout for Corner Camp. I got a glimpse of Observation Hill, a well-known landmark, and took a bearing of that and another hill.
This gave me our whereabouts, and then we struck southward for a short distance until we saw just the top of the flagstaff of Corner Camp, which had been entirely buried up by the winter's snow-drifts. When we reached the Camp we pitched our tent and dug out all the forenoon, until eventually we had got all the stores repacked in an accessible fashion at the top of a great snow cairn constructed by the three of us. It was about the coldest day's work I ever remember doing.
The job finished, we made ourselves some tea and then started to march back to Hut Point, nearly thirty-five miles away. We proposed to do this distance without camping, except for a little food, for we had no wish to remain another minute at Corner Camp, where it was blowing a strong breeze with a temperature of 32 degrees below zero all the time we were digging, in fact about as much as we could stick. When four miles on our homeward journey the wind dropped to a calm, and at 10.30 we had some pemmican and tea, having covered nine and a half miles according to our sledge meter. We started again at midnight, and, steering by stars, kept our course correct. The hot tea seemed to run through my veins; its effect was magical, and the ice-bitten feeling of tired men gave way once more to vigour and alertness.
As we started out again we witnessed a magnificent Auroral display, and as we dragged the now light sledge onward we watched the gold white streamers waving and playing in the heavens. The atmosphere, was extraordinarily clear, and we seemed to be marching in fairyland, but for the cold which made our breath come in gasps. We were cased lightly in ice about the shoulders, loins, and feet, and we were also covered with the unpleasant rime which our backs had brushed off the tent walls when we had camped. On we went, however, confident but silent. No other sound now but the swish, swish of our ski as we sped through the soft new snow. In the light of the Aurora objects stood out with the razor-edge sharpness of an after-blizzard atmosphere, and the temperature seemed to fall even lower than at midnight. Our fingers seemed to be cut with the frost burn, and frost bites played all round our faces, making us wince with pain.
We were marching, as, it were, under the shadow of Erebus, the great Antarctic volcano, and on this never-to-be-forgotten night the Southern Lights played for hours. If for nothing else, it was worth making such a sledge journey to witness the display. First, vertical shafts ascended in a fan of electric flame, and then the shafts all merged into a filmy, pale chrome sheet. This faded and intensified alternately, and then in an instant disappeared, but more flaming lights burst into view in other parts of the heavens, and a phantom curtain of glittering electric violet trembled between the lights and the stars.
No wonder Wilson and Bowers stated that the Aurora effects were much better and more variegated in colour this southern side of Mount Erebus. The awful splendour of this majestic vision gave us all a most eerie feeling, and we forgot our fatigue and the cold whilst we watched.