The next day we made even less progress than on the first, though we met with no accident to hinder us. Sometimes we dragged the sledge over the hummocks, and sometimes we went round them, the dogs preferring the former method, as while we toiled they sat up on their tails watching our proceedings with infinite satisfaction.

The next night I was awakened by hearing a rustling sound, which I guessed was snow falling, but I soon dropped asleep again forgetting all about it. In the morning I saw that the sides of the tent were considerably pressed in, and on drawing aside the curtain which closed the front, a mass of snow fell inside. Looking out, what was our dismay to find that we were entirely surrounded. Travelling which was before difficult would now be doubly so. However, on further examination we found that, having chosen a sheltered spot under a hummock, the snow had drifted round us.

We easily, therefore, forced our way out, roused up the half-buried dogs, whose noses showed their whereabouts, and having taken our morning meal doubled up our tent and then trudged forward, Sandy leading. We followed in line, thus making a path for the dogs who without difficulty kept up with us. Before long we came to a berg from which extended north and south a line of hummocks. It seemed to bar further progress. To ascertain which course to pursue, we agreed to climb to the top of the berg, leaving Ewen and Croil to take charge of the sledge. The mate, Sandy, and I, at once commenced the ascent. It was no easy work, and we ran great risk of slipping down again and breaking our limbs. Still, by persevering, the top at length was gained. We could see the land very clearly to the westward, and between it and us the ice appeared far more level than any we had hitherto passed over. To the north it was utterly impracticable. To the southward we discovered a passage which we hoped to reach in the course of the day. The mate’s belief was that we were close upon the land-ice, and that by pushing on we could reach it by nightfall.

Having made these observations we prepared to descend, but we found that the chance of falling when doing so would be far greater than when ascending. It appeared, however, from where we stood, that there was a slope on the southern side where we might get down with comparative ease. There was, however, a projecting ledge which must be knocked away before we could reach the slope. We had brought ropes with us, and Sandy passing one round his waist, begged the mate and me to hold it at the other end while he advanced with his staff at the point of which he had secured a huge lump of ice. Using this us a sledge hammer, he began knocking away at the ledge, and after a few blows the whole mass giving way went thundering down the slope.

“It’s just as well to clear that off,” he observed, “or it might have come down on our heads.”

This was the more likely when he told us that he had observed a deep crack, which had induced him to make the attempt to knock the ledge away.

We now descended and rejoined Ewen and his companions, who had been greatly alarmed at seeing the mass of ice come rattling down, supposing that some accident had happened to us, while they had with difficulty restrained the dogs from galloping away from them.

We now directed our course southward, and were not disappointed in finding a passage through the hummocks, which enabled us to get on the smoother land-ice. We had, however, soon to camp. To render our tent warm, having cleared away the snow, we built a wall round it which sheltered us from the wind.

On the evening of the second day after this, we reached the shore, which rose bleak and barren before us. Yet it was a satisfaction to set our feet on firm ground. We landed in a small bay, the shore for a short distance shelving up to the foot of the cliffs, which—as they extended round to the east—would, we agreed, afford us shelter from the more bitter blasts of winter. The rocks were bare and rugged. Here and there a few lichens appeared, which to our eyes, long unaccustomed to anything of a green tint, seemed very pleasant.

“This will do!” cried the mate, “if our shipmates can reach this, we may pass the winter far better than we should have done on the open floe.”