and longitude.

At 5.30 P.M. a dark object stood in salient relief above the white
contour of the snowy sky-line on the right. Suppressing our excitement,
we pressed on eagerly, changing course so as to approach it. At nine
o'clock it resolved itself into the summit of an imposing mountain
rising up from a mysterious valley. Aurora Peak, as it was named, was to
be a prominent landmark for several days to come.

All were ready to be on the move at 8.45 A.M. on November 19. While
Mertz and Ninnis built a cairn of snow, I wrote a note to be left on it
in a tin, containing instructions to Stillwell in case he should happen
on the locality.

The weather was good and the temperatures were high, ranging at this
time (one month from midsummer) between zero and 18 degrees F. When
we camped for lunch the air was quite calm and the sun's rays were
extremely warm.

The surface became softer and smoother as the afternoon lengthened until
Mertz was tempted to put on his skis. He then became forerunner for the
remainder of the day.

Mertz, who was skilled in the use of skis, found them of great service
on this and on many future occasions. At such times he would relieve
Ninnis and myself in the van. On the other hand, over deeply furrowed
sastrugi or blue ice, or during a strong wind, unless it were at our
backs, skiing was impossible.

Owing to a steeper down grade, the sledges were now commencing to
run more freely and improvised brakes were tried, all of which were
ineffectual in restraining the dogs. The pace became so hot that a small
obstacle would capsize the sledge, causing it to roll over and over down
the slope. The dogs, frantically pulling in various directions to keep
ahead of the load, became hopelessly entangled in their traces and were
dragged along unresistingly until the sledge stopped of its own accord
or was arrested by one of us. At length, most of the dogs were allowed
to run loose, and, with a man holding on behind and a couple of dogs
pulling ahead, the loads were piloted down a steep slope for several
miles.

The evening camp was situated at the crest of the last but steepest fall
into a wide glacial valley which was clearly seen to sweep northwards
past the eastern side of Aurora Peak. Looking back we could define our
track winding down in the bed of a long shallow valley, while, uprising
on either hand near the rim of the plateau were crevassed bluffs where
the ice of the tableland streamed abruptly