chap, vi LOW SOUND 97 



it had at the top of its back, and its skirts tucked under 

 us for a ground sheet. Sods dug from the ground with 

 ice-axes formed our pillows. Water rippled past us within 

 arm's length. We spread our frugal meal of Emergency 

 tablets, biscuits, jam, and lime-juice nodules, and rejoiced at 

 the unlooked-for comfort. It was not long to last. Cold 

 puffs of wind soon found us out ; so did two ivory gulls, 

 which flew round and round close to our heads before 

 settling on the snow-beds a few feet away, and discussing 

 us long and minutely. Concluding that we were not yet 

 ready for eating they presently left. Seldom have persis- 

 tent efforts to woo sleep been less graciously rewarded by 

 that fickle goddess than were ours during the time of our 

 stay. We dozed sometimes, but never really slumbered. 

 Then rain began to fall heavily. We endured it without 

 a murmur ; things had gone too far to be complained of, 

 they were past the power of words. This I will say, that 

 when your bones are aching and your position is so cramped 

 that you cannot move, and the freezing ground is sucking 

 away the little heat left in your frame, to be splashed in the 

 face with icy rain is an aggravation of discomfort big enough 

 to be even then perceptible. 



After four or five hours' so-called rest we agreed that 

 it was time to be stirring. We were shivering so much 

 that we feared the rotten mountains in the neighbourhood 

 might be upset. There was no talk of eating anything. 

 The packs were made up and I started on. Ten minutes 

 later I was standing at the end of the valley and shouting 

 wildly to Garwood. The object of our journey was accom- 

 plished, for the view that greeted my eyes revealed all we 

 had come to see. When he joined me we were able to forget 

 our discomforts together in the delights of discovery. 



Before us lay a wide flat valley, known to hunters as the 

 Stordal, but originally named by the Dutch the valley of 



