The sun shone at intervals alternating with dense fog and snow squalls. The wind was fresh while we slept, and through the greater part of the march, but died away, about as we camped, and it became dead calm and foggy.
We camped on the outer swell of the great glacier forming Aldrich’s last “low-sloping spit.”
The more level ice-foot extending from the base of this swell to the ragged sea ice, ten to twelve miles distant, was covered with lakes and rivers.
For a half hour or so, I had some striking views of the magnificent peaks from Cape Alfred Ernest westward.
Again I quote from my Journal:
Yelverton Bay, July 10th.—Out of my new domain, and back into the known world again.
It was calm while we slept at the last camp, and the sun was warm enough through the fog and clouds, to still further dry our clothing and gear.
Got an earlier start than usual and had good going, and decent weather (calm and overcast) until 9 A. M. when we struck the river from a glacier at the head of the bay, and after deflecting for two miles along its swampy banks, were obliged to ford it, one hundred yards wide, knee deep, and running with a current that threatened to sweep us and the dogs and sledges away. Then the thick fog making it impossible to pick a course through the lakes and rivers, I camped.
Our tent here, as at the last camp was in a slushy swamp, a small spot being made a little firmer by tamping the snow first with the snowshoes, and then with our feet.
Two fine snow-capped mountains back of Alert Point are deserving of a name.