A
gentle snow-slope descended at our feet towards a valley that separated
our ridge from the hills immediately behind Husvik, and as we stood
gazing Worsley said solemnly, "Boss, it looks too good to be true!"
Down we went, to be checked presently by the sight of water 2500 ft.
below. We could see the little wave-ripples on the black beach,
penguins strutting to and fro, and dark objects that looked like seals
lolling lazily on the sand. This was an eastern arm of Fortuna Bay,
separated by the ridge from the arm we had seen below us during the
night. The slope we were traversing appeared to end in a precipice
above this beach. But our revived spirits were not to be damped by
difficulties on the last stage of the journey, and we camped cheerfully
for breakfast. Whilst Worsley and Crean were digging a hole for the
lamp and starting the cooker I climbed a ridge above us, cutting steps
with the adze, in order to secure an extended view of the country
below. At 6.30 a.m. I thought I heard the sound of a steam-whistle. I
dared not be certain, but I knew that the men at the whaling-station
would be called from their beds about that time. Descending to the
camp I told the others, and in intense excitement we watched the
chronometer for seven o'clock, when the whalers would be summoned to
work.
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