We proceeded in an easterly direction up through a little valley formed by “Mount Nelson” on one side, and “Mount Ronniken” on the other.  The reader must not, however, imagine from these imposing names that we were walking between any formidable mountain-ranges.  Mounts Nelson and Ronniken were nothing but two old pressure ridges that had been formed in those far-off days when the mighty mass of ice had pushed on with awful force without meeting hindrance or resistance, until at this spot it met a superior power that clove and splintered it, and set a bound to its further advance.  It must have been a frightful collision, like the end of a world.  But now it was over:  peace —­ an air of infinite peace lay over it all.  Nelson and Ronniken were only two pensioned veterans.  Regarded as pressure ridges they were huge, raising their highest summits over 100 feet in the air.  Here in the valley the surface round Nelson was quite filled up, while Ronniken still showed a deep scar —­ a fissure or hollow.  We approached it cautiously.  It was not easy to see how deep it was, and whether it had an invisible connection with Nelson on the other side of the valley.  But this was not the case.  On a closer examination this deep cleft proved to have a solid, filled-up bottom.  Between the ridges the surface was perfectly flat, and offered an excellent site for a dog-camp.

Captain Nilsen and I had worked out a kind of programme of the work to be done, and in this it was decided that the dogs should be brought on to the Barrier as quickly as possible, and there looked after by two men.  We chose this place for the purpose.  The old pressure ridges told the history of the spot plainly enough; we had no need to fear any kind of disturbance here.  The site had the additional advantage that we could see the ship from it, and would always be in communication with those on board.

From here the valley turned slightly to the south.  After having marked the spot where our first tent was to be set up, we continued our investigations.  The valley sloped gradually upwards, and reached the ridge at a height of 100 feet.  From this elevation we had an excellent view over the valley we had been following, and all the other surroundings.  On the north the Barrier extended, level and straight, apparently without interruption, and ended on the west in the steep descent of Cape Man’s Head, which formed the eastern limit of the inner part of the Bay of Whales, and afforded a snug little corner, where we had found room for our ship.  There lay the whole of the inner part of the bay, bounded on all sides by ice, ice and nothing but ice-Barrier as far as we could see, white and blue.  This spot would no doubt show a surprising play of colour later on; it promised well in this way.