ighteen miles that day, and made a good camp in the lee
of a bare stone ridge.

That night there was a slight fall of snow. When we went on it was
nearly thirty-five degrees below zero. The layer of fresh snow
concealed irregularities in the ice, making our pulling very hard.
After an exhausting day we had made hardly fifteen miles.

* * * * *

On the following day the sky was covered with gray clouds, and a
bitterly cold wind blew. We should have remained in the tent, but the
shortage of food made it imperative that we keep moving. We felt
immensely better after a reckless, generous fill of hot pemmican stew;
but the next morning my feet were so painful from frost-bite that I
could hardly get on my fur boots.

Walking was very painful to me that day, but we made a good distance,
having come to smoother ice. Ray was very kind in caring for me. I
became discouraged about going on at all: it was very painful, and I
knew there was no hope of getting out. I tried to get some of our
morphine tablets, but Ray had them, and refused to be convinced that
he ought to go on without me.

On the next march we came in sight of the luminous mountain, which
cheered me considerably. It was a curious thing, indeed. A
straight-sided cone of light it was, rather steeper than the average
volcano. Its point was sharp, its sides smooth as if cut with a
mammoth plane. And it shone with a pure white light, with a steady and
unchanging milky radiance. It rose out of the black and dull yellow of
the ice wilderness like a white finger of hope.

The next morning it was a little warmer. Ray had been caring for my
feet very attentively, but it took me nearly two hours to get on my
footgear. Again I tried to get him to leave me, but he refused.

We arrived at the base of the shining mountain in three more marches.
On the last night the fuel for the primus was all gone, having been
used up during the very cold weather, and we were unable to melt water
to drink. We munched the last of our pemmican dry.

* * * * *

A few minutes after we had started on the last morning, Ray stopped
suddenly.

"Look at that!" he cried.

I saw what he had seen--the wreck of an airplane, the wings crumpled
up and blackened with fire. We limped up to it.

"A Harley biplane!" Ray exclaimed. "That is Major Meriden's ship! And
look at that wing! It looks like it's been in an electric furnace!"

I exa