below and reported to Evans. It was very thick with driving snow and also
foggy, and before Evans got up to the bridge we were quite near the pack,
and amongst bits which had floated from it, one of which must have been
our berg. We took in the headsails as quickly as possible, these being
the only sails set, and nosed along dead slow to leeward under steam
alone. Gradually we could see either pack or the blink of it all along
our port and starboard beam, while gradually we felt our way down a big
patch of open water.

There was quite a meeting on the bridge, and it was decided to get well
in, and lie in open water under lee of the pack till the gale blew itself
out. "Under ordinary circumstances the safe course would have been to go
about and stand to the east. But in our case we must risk trouble to get
smoother water for the ponies. We passed a stream of ice over which the
sea was breaking heavily, and one realized the danger of being amongst
loose floes in such a sea. But soon we came to a compacter body of floes,
and running behind this we were agreeably surprised to find comparatively
smooth water. We ran on for a bit, then stopped and lay to."[84]

All that day we lay behind that pack, steaming slowly to leeward every
now and then, as the ice drifted down upon us. Towards night it began to
clear. It was New Year's Eve.

I turned in, thinking to wake in 1911. But I had not been long asleep
when I found Atkinson at my side. "Have you seen the land?" he said.
"Wrap your blankets round you, and go and see." And when I got up on deck
I could see nothing for a while. Then he said: "All the high lights are
snow lit up by the sun." And there they were: the most glorious peaks
appearing, as it were like satin, above the clouds, the only white in a
dark horizon. The first glimpse of Antarctic land, Sabine and the great