WE WALK ACROSS 105 
had another ague attack. Last asleep, he was shaking 
all over, his teeth chattering like castanets. I knew he 
was dead-tired, so concluded that he had better sleep a 
little longer. T threw over him a thin coat I had—the 
only thing | could spare—packed him all round with moss, 
and climbed the hill for a walk. I collected a few flowers 
and lichens, and returned, for there was no chance of a 
View. 
At 2.30 A.M. on waking up, I found not only that my 
moustache and beard were solid, so that I could not open 
my mouth, but that my eyes were also sealed by ice. 
After a somewhat painful operation I managed to get 
them open. The fog had cleared a little, and again | 
went for a walk. 
Traversing the sandy causeway, | made for a high 
point, but was brought up sharp by a ravine which seemed 
impassable. 
But as the fog lifted here and there, I could make out 
that our hill was just an isolated rise, and that in front 
of us lay a vast plain which we should have to cross. 
Poor old Sailor, who had hitherto been tolerably inde- 
pendent and regardless of cold (for he is the hardest 
dog, I think, that I have ever seen), was fairly beaten 
this time. He crept close up to us for warmth. Hyland, 
too, made a grand discovery. It was this, viz., that 
your extra socks are a very fair substitute for gloves. 
It seems extraordinary that one had not thought of this 
before; for our hands had often been exceedingly cold. 
