Should we _ever_ be able to make the few remaining miles?
The wind continued to blow violently from the south, the ice began to slack off a little behind us, and at three o'clock in the morning of the 5th of September there was a gradually widening lead to the north.

I felt that it was now or never, and the order went down for every pound of steam and full speed.

Thus we rounded Cape Rawson, and Cape Sheridan was in view.

At last! That sloping headland looked more beautiful than the gates of paradise to our vigil-wearied eyes.
We rounded the cape at a quarter past seven, fifteen minutes later than the time of our arrival in 1905.

Since the 23d of August, thirteen days before, neither Bartlett nor I had had our clothes off.
Should we stop here?
There was still open water beyond.