measuring the thickness of young ice, went through to his waist one day
just as a killer rose to blow in the adjacent lead. His companions
pulled him out hurriedly.

On the 22nd the 'Endurance' reached the farthest south point of her
drift, touching the 77th parallel of latitude in long. 35° W. The
summer had gone; indeed the summer had scarcely been with us at all.
The temperatures were low day and night, and the pack was freezing
solidly around the ship. The thermometer recorded 10° below zero Fahr.
at 2 a.m. on the 22nd. Some hours earlier we had watched a wonderful
golden mist to the southward, where the rays of the declining sun shone
through vapour rising from the ice. All normal standards of perspective
vanish under such conditions, and the low ridges of the pack, with mist
lying between them, gave the illusion of a wilderness of mountain-peaks
like the Bernese Oberland. I could not doubt now that the 'Endurance'
was confined for the winter. Gentle breezes from the east, south, and
south-west did not disturb the hardening floes. The seals were
disappearing and the birds were leaving us. The land showed still in
fair weather on the distant horizon, but it was beyond our reach now,
and regrets for havens that lay behind us were vain.

"We must wait for the spring, which may bring us better fortune. If I
had guessed a month ago that the ice would grip us here, I would have
established our base at one of the landing-places at the great glacier.
But there seemed no reason to anticipate then that the fates would
prove unkind. This calm weather with intense cold in a summer month is
surely exceptional. My chief anxiety is the drift. Where will the
vagrant winds and currents carry the ship during the long winter months
that are ahead of us? We will go west, no doubt, but how far? And
will it be possible to break out of the pack early in the spring and