The patience and endurance of the two officers are beyond all praise. It is difficult to realize the misery of that night. Wearied with the severe physical exertions of the two previous days, having their own meals to prepare and the dogs to look after, they had to pass a sleepless and anxious night in their endeavours to keep life in the body of their half-frozen comrade. On the following morning Petersen appeared to be slightly better, so thinking it was preferable to run the risk of taking him back as he was, than to pass such another night as the last, they put him on the sledge, and, having hurriedly eaten their breakfast, they started for the ship with all despatch. They had a rough journey before them of eighteen miles; but they knew it was a case of life and death, and they encouraged the dogs to their utmost speed. The dogs, being homeward bound, were willing enough and needed little persuasion, so that, for a time, they rattled along at a good pace. But actual progress could not have been very rapid, for we read in Egerton's report that the patient's "circulation was so feeble that his face and hands were constantly frost-bitten, entailing frequent stoppages whilst we endeavoured to restore the affected parts." The difficulties of the homeward journey may be gathered from the following extracts: "On arriving at the Black Cape we had to take the patient off the sledge, and while one assisted him round, the other kept the dogs back, for by this time they knew they were homeward bound, and required no small amount of trouble to hold in. After getting the sledge round and restoring Petersen's hands and nose (which were almost as bad again a few minutes after), and securing him on the sledge, we again set off. At the next cape the same difficulties were experienced, in fact rather more, for the sledge took charge down a 'ditch,'[1] about twenty-five feet deep, turning right over three times in its descent, and out of which we had to drag it, and while clearing harness (which employed us both, one to stand in front of the dogs with the whip, while the other cleared the lines), the dogs made a sudden bolt past Lieutenant Rawson, who was in front with the whip, and dragged me more than a hundred yards before we could stop them. At length, after the usual process with Petersen (that of thawing his hands and nose, which we did every time we cleared harness, or it was actually necessary to stop), we got away, thankful that our troubles were over. The dogs got their harness into a dreadful entanglement in their excitement to get home; but we were afraid to clear them lest they should break away from us, or cause us any delay, as we were both naturally anxious to return with the utmost speed to the ship, and so relieve ourselves of the serious responsibility occasioned by the very precarious state in which our patient was lying. Upon arriving alongside at 6.30 P.M., we were very thankful that Petersen was able to answer us when we informed