The hot food gave
us another renewal of energy. Worsley and Crean sang their old songs
when the Primus was going merrily. Laughter was in our hearts, though
not on our parched and cracked lips.
We were up and away again within half an hour, still downward to the
coast. We felt almost sure now that we were above Stromness Bay. A
dark object down at the foot of the slope looked like Mutton Island,
which lies off Husvik. I suppose our desires were giving wings to our
fancies, for we pointed out joyfully various landmarks revealed by the
now vagrant light of the moon, whose friendly face was cloud-swept.
Our high hopes were soon shattered. Crevasses warned us that we were on
another glacier, and soon we looked down almost to the seaward edge of
the great riven ice-mass. I knew there was no glacier in Stromness and
realized that this must be Fortuna Glacier. The disappointment was
severe. Back we turned and tramped up the glacier again, not directly
tracing our steps but working at a tangent to the south-east. We were
very tired.
At 5 a.m. we were at the foot of the rocky spurs of the range. We were
tired, and the wind that blew down from the heights was chilling us.
We decided to get down under the lee of a rock for a rest. We put our
sticks and the adze on the snow, sat down on them as close to one
another as possible, and put our arms round each other.
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