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pe of finding Drift Station Zebra； we wouldn't have a chance in a thousand of ever finding our way back to the 〃Dolphin〃 again。 Zabrinski was built on the size and scale of a medium…sized gorilla and was about as durable； but we couldn't have treated him more tenderly had he been made of Dresden china。
〃It's difficult；〃 Zabrinski said。 〃Radio's okay； but this ice storm causes such damn distortion and squeakingno； wait a minute； though； wait a minute。〃
He bent his head over the microphone； shielding it from the sound of the storm； and spoke again through cupped hands。 〃Zabrinski speaking。 。 。 Zabrinski。 Yeah； we're all kinda tuckered out； but Doc here seems to think we'll make it。 。。 。 Hang on； I'll ask him。〃
He turned to me。 〃How far do you think we've e； they want to know。〃
〃Four miles。〃 I shrugged。 〃Three and a half； four and a half。 You guess it。〃
Zabrinski spoke again； looked interrogatively at Hansen and me； saw our head shakes； and signed off。 He said： 〃Navigating officer says we're four； five degrees north of where we should be and that we'll have to cut south if we don't want to miss Zebra by a few hundred yards。〃
It could have been worse。 Over an hour had passed since we'd received the last bearing position from the 〃Dolphin〃； and； between radio calls； our only means of navigating had been by judging the strength and direction of the wind in our faces。 When a man's face is pletely covered and largely numb； it's not a very sensitive instrument for gauging wind directionand； for all we knew； the wind might be either backing or veering。 It could have been a lot worse； and I said so to Hansen。
〃It could be worse；〃 he agreed heavily。 〃We could be traveling in circles or we could be dead。 Barring that； I don't see how it could be worse。〃 He gulped down the whisky； coughed； and handed the flask top back to me。 〃Things look brighter now。 You honestly think we can make it？〃
〃A little luck； that's all。 You think maybe our packs are too heavy？ That we should abandon some of it here？〃 The last thing I wanted to was to abandon any of the supplies we had along with us： eighty pounds of food； a stove； thirty pounds of pressed…fuel tablets； a hundred ounces of alcohol； a tent； and a very prehensive medical kit。 But if it was to be abandoned； I wanted it to be their suggestion； and I was sure they wouldn't make it。
〃We're abandoning nothing；〃 Hansen said。 Either the rest or the whisky had done him good； his voice was stronger； his teeth hardly chattering at all。
〃Let the thought die still…born；〃 Zabrinski said。 When I'd first seen him in Scotland； he had reminded me of a polar bear； and now out here on the ice cap； huge and crouched in his ice…whitened furs； he resembled one even more。 He had the physique of a bear； too； and seemed pletely tireless； he was in far better shape than any of us。 〃This weight on my bowed shoulders is like a bad leg： an old friend that gives me pain； but I wouldn't be without it。〃
〃You？〃 I asked Rawlings。
〃I'm conserving my energy；〃 Rawlings announced。 〃I expect to have to carry Zabrinski later on。〃
We pulled the scarred； abraded and now thoroughly useless snow goggles over our eyes again； hoisted ourselves stiffly to our feet and moved off to the south to find the end of and round the high ridge that had blocked our path。 It was by far the longest and most continuous ridge we'd encountered yet； but we didn't mind； we needed to make a good offing to get us back on course； and not only were we doing just that； but we were doing it in parative shelter and saving our strength by so doing。 After perhaps four hundred yards the ice wall ended so abruptly； leading to so sudden and unexpected an exposure to the whistling fury of the ice storm that I was bowled pletely off my feet。 An express train couldn't have done it any better。 I hung on to the rope with one hand； clawed and scrambled my way back to my feet with the help of the others； shouted a warning to the others； and then we were fairly into the wind again； holding it directly in our faces and leaning far forward to keep our balance。
We covered the next mile in less than half an hour。 The going was easier now； much easier than it had been； although we still had to make small detours around rafted； pacted and broken ice： on the debit side； all of us； Zabrinski excepted； were near plete exhaustion； stumbling and falling far more often than was warranted by the terrain and the strength of the ice gale。 For myself； my leaden； 'dragging legs felt as if they were on fire； each step now sent a shooting pain stabbing from my ankle clear to the top of my thigh。 For all that； I think I could have kept going longer than any of them； even Zabrinski； for I had the motivation； the driving force that would have kept me going hours after my legs would have told me that it was impossible to carry on a step further。 Major John Halliwell。 My elder； my only brother。 Alive or dead。 Was he alive or was he dead； this one man in the world to whom I owed everything I had or had bee？ Was he dying； at that very moment when I was thinking of him； was he dying？ His wife； Mary； and his three children； who spoiled and mined their bachelor uncle as I spoiled and ruined them： whatever way it was； they would have to know； and only I could tell them。 Alive or dead？ My legs weren't mine； the stabbing fire that tortured them belonged to some other man； not to me。 I had to know； I had to know； and if I had to find out by covering whatever miles lay between me and Drift Ice Station Zebra on my hands and knees； then I would do just that。 I would find out。 And over and above the tearing anxiety as to what had happened to my brother there was yet another powerful motivation； a motivation that the world would regard as of infinitely greater importance than the life or death of the mandant of the station。 As infinitely more important than the living or dying of the score of men who manned that desolate polar outpost。 Or so the world would say。
The demented drumming of the spicules on my mask and ice…sheathed furs suddenly eased； the gale wind fell away； and I found myself standing in the shelter of an ice ridge even higher than the last one we'd used for shelter。 I waited for the others to e up； asked Zabrinski to make a position check with the 〃Dolphin〃； and doled out some more of the medicinal alcohol。 More of it than on the last occasion。 We were in more need of it。 Both Hansen and Rawlings were in a very distressed condition； their breath whistling in and out of their lungs in the rapid； rasping； shallow panting of a long…distance runner in the last tortured moments of his final exhaustion。 I became gradually aware that the speed of my own breathing matched theirs almost exactly； it required a concentrated effort of willpower to bold my breath even for the few seconds necessary to gulp down my drink。 I wondered vaguely if perhaps Hansen hadn't been right after all； maybe the alcohol wasn't good for us。 But it certainly tasted as if it were。
Zabrinski was already talking through cupped hands into the microphone。 After a minute or so he pulled the earphone out from under his parka and buttoned up the walkie…talkie set。 He said： 〃We're eith