THE ARCTIC AND THE ANTARCTIC 57 



flying snow. Ten o'clock, eleven, and twelve passed, 

 and we were beginning to despair of getting a start 

 that day. Then the gloom merged into a dull grey 

 haze, and we could distinguish faintly through the 

 driving mists the glacier peaks flanking Long Lake. 

 We had thawed snow and made coffee for breakfast, 

 but notwithstanding that fortification we felt ill-pre- 

 pared to renew our battle with the elements. 



' We'll make another try, boys/ I said, after a brief 

 survey around. ' We may reach the summit to-day, 

 but the chances are against it.' 



Dave (the dog) was again harnessed to the sleigh, 

 and with three separate ropes attached we straggled 

 forward on different tracks, and pulled as if for dear 

 life. Slowly we forged ahead over Deep Lake, stagger- 

 ing, stumbling, and floundering wildly. Even Dave 

 sank in the yielding track, and his efforts to extricate 

 himself would have been amusing under different cir- 

 cumstances. As we proceeded the gale increased, and 

 almost hurled us back, and I noted with alarm the 

 heavy gathering clouds that seemed to hang between 

 us and the pass ; they spread rapidly, and with them 

 came fresh blasts that whistled across the white lake 

 surface, and tore it into heaving swells even as we 

 looked. I prayed for light, but the gloom deepened 

 and the snow fell thicker and faster. At length we 

 reached the canon leading to Crater Lake, and with 

 every nerve strained we fought our way forward literally 

 foot by foot. The snow-wreaths here were of extra- 

 ordinary depths, and several times my companions would 

 disappear altogether, actually swimming again to the 

 surface, for only such a motion would sustain the body 

 on the broken snow. 





