–from Raymond Priestley’s account “Antarctic Adventure”–
“On the 15th we made another trip to the depot in spite of the ever-present wind, and we dug out the iron-runnered sledge and ran her across to the north side of Inexpressible Island, where we left her for the present. It was a cold day, and Campbell, who had no windproof helmet, was biten several times on cheek and nose. Once, indeed, we had to stop and thaw out four places at once for him each of the frozen patches of skin being as big as a shilling. The wind remained as exasperating as ever, and none of us had met anthing appoaching it before. It had now blown for 180 days without ever lulling for more than a few hours at a time.
“None of us saw the sun on this day, but for a couple of hours before noon there was a brilliant vertical beam of light stretching from behind the northern foothills to about halfway to the zenith. This gave a delicate golden glow to the hazy blue sky through which it had passed and a brilliant flush to the clouds. Had I been an artist I would have painted that sky and called it either “The Promise of Day” or “The Dawn of Hope.”