One of the graduate assistants – a brilliant young fellow named Danforth[99] – noticed lava on the snowy slope. On the barren shore, and on the lofty ice barrier in the background, myriads of grotesque penguins walked.
We used small boats and landed on Ross Island shortly after midnight on the morning of the 9th. Then we prepared to unload supplies. Our camp on the frozen shore below the volcano’s slope was only a provisional one. Headquarters were situated aboard the Arkham. We landed all our drilling apparatus, dogs, sledges, tents, provisions, gasoline tanks, experimental ice-melting outfit[100], cameras, both ordinary and aerial, aeroplane parts, and other accessories, including three small portable wireless devices – besides those in the planes. These devices helped us to communicate with the Arkham’s large device from any part of the Antarctic continent that we wanted to visit. The ship’s radio was communicating with the outside world. It was able to convey press reports to the Arkham Advertiser’s powerful wireless station on Kingsport Head, Massachusetts[101]. We hoped to complete our work during an Antarctic summer. Otherwise we planned to winter on the Arkham and send the Miskatonic north for another summer’s supplies.
I need not repeat what the newspapers already published about our early work. The health of our party – twenty men and fifty-five Alaskan sledge dogs – was remarkable. Of course we did not encounter really destructive temperatures or windstorms.
We reached Beardmore Glacier[102], the largest valley glacier in the world. The frozen sea changed to a mountainous coast line. We were eight thousand, five hundred feet above sea-level. When experimental drillings revealed solid ground only twelve feet down through the snow and ice at certain points, we made considerable use of the small melting apparatus.
In certain sandstones we found some highly interesting fossil fragments. We found ferns, seaweeds, and mollusks. They were very important for the region’s primordial history. There was also a queer triangular, striated marking[103], about a foot in greatest diameter. Lake, as a biologist, found these curious marking unusually puzzling and provocative. To my geological eye it looked not unlike some of the ripple effects common in the sedimentary rocks[104]. Since slate is no more than a metamorphic formation, I saw no reason for extreme wonder.
On January 6th, 1931, Lake, Pabodie, Danforth, the other six students, and myself flew directly over the South pole in two planes. There was a high wind. This was, as the papers said, one of several observation flights. Distant mountains floated in the sky as enchanted cities. Often the whole white world dissolved into a gold, silver, and scarlet land of dreams under the magic of the low midnight sun.
We resolved to carry out our original plan. We wanted to fly five hundred miles eastward and establish a new base. Our health remained excellent. It was now midsummer. With haste and care we will be able to conclude work by March and avoid a tedious wintering through the long Antarctic night. There were some severe windstorms but we escaped the damage. No doubt, we had our good luck. But this good luck was almost strange.
Lake insisted on a westward – or rather, northwestward – trip before our shift to the new base. He was too much interested in that triangular marking in the slate. He was strangely convinced that the marking was the print of some bulky, unknown, and unclassifiable organism of advanced evolution. Lake thought that this rock was probably Cambrian or even pre-Cambrian. It meant that this advanced organism existed in times when there was only unicellular life[105]. So these fragments, with their odd marking, were five hundred million – a thousand million years old.
II
The journey of January 11th to 18th with Pabodie and five others brought up more and more of the Archaean slate[106]. Even I was interested in evident fossil markings in that unbelievably ancient stratum. These markings, however, were of very primitive life forms. Therefore I did not like Lake’s idea to explore further. However I did not say no to his idea. But I decided not to accompany the northwestward party despite Lake’s plea for my geological advice. While they were gone, I remained at the base with Pabodie and five men. We were working out final plans for the eastward shift[107].
Lake’s expedition into the unknown sent out reports from the shortwave transmitters on the planes. The start was made January 22nd at 4 A.M. The first wireless message that we received came only two hours later. Lake spoke of descending and starting an ice-melting and boring at a point some three hundred miles away from us. Six hours later a second message told of the frantic work. They found more slate fragments with these markings.
Three hours later a brief bulletin announced the resumption of the flight. I protested against it, because it was too risky. But Lake was extremely excited, and said that his new specimens were worth it. I saw that I was unable to stop him. And it was frightening, because he went deeper and deeper into that treacherous white desert. It was putting the whole expedition to the risk.
Then, in about an hour and a half more, came even more excited message from Lake’s plane. It almost made me sorry that I did not went too:
“10:05 P.M. On the wing[108]. After snowstorm, appeared mountain range ahead higher than any hitherto seen. May equal Himalayas[109]. Probable Latitude 76° 15’, Longitude 113° 10’ E. Takes all the horizon. Two smoking cones. All peaks black and bare of snow. Strong wind impedes navigation.”
After that Pabodie, the men and I stood breathlessly by the receiver. Thought of these titanic mountains seven hundred miles away inflamed our deepest sense of adventure. In half an hour Lake called us again:
“The plane forced down on plateau in foothills[110]. Nobody hurt and perhaps can repair it. We will transfer things to other three planes. You can’t imagine anything like this. Highest peaks must go over thirty-five thousand feet. Atwood will work with theodolite while Carroll and I will go up[111]. Possibly pre-Cambrian slate[112] with other strata mixed in. Queer skyline effects – regular sections of cubes clinging to highest peaks[113]. Like land of mystery in a dream or gateway to forbidden world. Wish you were here to study[114].”
Though it was sleeping-time, not one of us went to bed. We were sorry, of course, about the damaged aeroplane. But it will be fixed easily, of course. Then, at 11 P.M., came another call from Lake:
“Up with Carroll over highest foothills. Frightful to climb, and hard to go at this altitude. But it’s worth it. Main summits exceed Himalayas, and very queer. Range looks like pre-Cambrian slate, with plain signs of many other strata. Odd formations on slopes of highest mountains. Great low square blocks with exactly vertical sides, and rectangular lines of low, vertical ramparts, like the old Asian castles. Impressive from distance. Carroll thought they were formed of smaller separate pieces, but that is probably an illusion.
Parts, especially upper parts, seem lighter than any visible strata on slopes. If you fly near you can see many cave-mouths, some unusually regular in outline, square or semicircular. You must come and investigate. I saw rampart squarely on top of one peak. Height seems about thirty thousand to thirty-five thousand feet. I am up twenty-one thousand, five hundred myself, in devilish, gnawing cold. Wind whistles and pipes,