We had been thirsty during the days of heavy pulling in the pack, and our condition was aggravated quickly by the salt spray.

Our sleeping-bags would have given us some warmth, but they were not within our reach.

They were packed under the tents in the bows, where a mail-like coating of ice enclosed them, and we were so cramped that we could not pull them out.
At last daylight came, and with the dawn the weather cleared and the wind fell to a gentle south-westerly breeze.

A magnificent sunrise heralded in what we hoped would be our last day in the boats.

Rose- pink in the growing light, the lofty peak of Clarence Island told of the coming glory of the sun.