, even though
weakened by starvation, to scramble out again by the ladder, provided
the sledge was not also engulphed.

Notwithstanding the possibilities of the rope ladder, I could not sleep
properly at all; my nerves had been so overtaxed. All night considerable
wind and drift continued.

On the 19th it was overcast and light snow was falling. I resolved "to
go ahead and leave the rest to Providence."

As they wallowed through the deep snow my feet and legs kept breaking
through into space. Then I went right under, but the sledge was held
back and the ladder "proved trumps." A few minutes later I was down
again, but I emerged again without much exertion, half-smothered with
snow. Faintness overcame me and I stopped to camp, though only a short
distance had been covered.

All around me was a leaden glare, the snow clouds "corralling" me in.
The sun had not shown up for some days and I was eager to see it once
more, not only that it might show up the landscape, but for its cheerful
influence and life-giving energy. A few days previously my condition had
been improving, but now it was going back.

During the night of the 18th loud booming noises, sharp cracks and
muffled growls issued form the neighbouring crevasses and kept waking
me up. At times one could feel a vibration accompanying the growling
sounds, and I concluded that the ice was in rapid motion.

The sun at last appeared on the 19th, and I was off by 8.30 A.M. The
whole surface was a network of crevasses, some very wide. Along one
after another of these I dragged the sledge until a spot was reached
where the snow-bridge looked to be firm. Here I plunged across, risking
the consequences.

After three hours' marching nothing serious had happened and I found
myself on safer ground with a "pimply" surface visible ahead, close
under the slopes of the highlands. Once on this I became over-reliant,
and in consequence sank several times into narrow fissures.

At 1 P.M. the Mertz Glacier was at last crossed and I had reached the
rising hills on its western side. Overlooking the camp, five hundred
feet above the glacier, were beetling, crevassed crags, but I could
trace out a good road, free from pitfalls, leading to the plateau, at an
elevation of three thousand feet.

To lighten my load for the climb I threw away alpine rope, finnesko
crampons, sundry pairs of worn crampons and socks, while I rubbed a
composition on the sledge-runners which prevented them f