It was a record, but no clue.
The wind had grown more violent as we still fought our way forward, resting and rowing by turns, and oftener "poling" the shallower surface, but the old VALDA, or bench, is still distant.

My recollection of the old survey enables me to guess the relative position of the meanderings of the creek, and an occasional simple professional experiment to determine the distance gives my crew the fullest faith in my ability.
Night overtakes us in our impeded progress.

Our condition looks more dangerous than it really is, but I urge the men, many of whom are still new in this mode of navigation, to greater exertion by assurance of perfect safety and speedy relief ahead.

We go on in this way until about eight o'clock, and ground by the willows.

We have a muddy walk for a few hundred yards before we strike a dry trail, and simultaneously the white walls of Altascar's appear like a snowbank before us.