ADVANCING BLINDLY 77 



surface. It was heavy going, though better than on the 

 previous day. 



As we were advancing, still blindly, and fretting at 

 the persistently thick weather, one of us suddenly called 

 out: "Hullo, look there!" A wild, dark summit rose 

 high out of the mass of fog to the east-south-east. It 

 was not far away — on the contrary, it seemed threaten- 

 ingly near and right over us. We stopped and looked 

 at the imposing sight, but Nature did not expose her 

 objects of interest for long. The fog rolled over again, 

 thick, heavy and dark, and blotted out the view. We 

 knew now that we had to be prepared for surprises. 

 After we had gone about ten miles the fog again lifted 

 for a moment, and we saw quite near — a mile or so 

 away — two long, narrow mountain ridges to the west 

 of us, running north and south, and completely covered 

 with snow. These — HeUand Hansen's INIountains — 

 were the only ones we saw on our right hand during 

 the march on the plateau; they were between 9,000 

 and 10,000 feet high, and would probably serve as 

 excellent landmarks on the return journey. There was 

 no connection to be traced between these mountains 

 and those lying to the east of them; they gave us the 

 impression of being entirely isolated summits, as we could 

 not make out any lofty ridge running east and west. 

 We continued our course in the constant expectation 

 of finding some surprise or other in our line of route. 

 The air ahead of us was as black as pitch, as though it 



