The sled coursed over great knoll-like swellings of the terrain, coated with the dull-pale frozen atmosphere. Beyond, it gained speed on a vast flat plain, almost as smooth as a desert of glass.
"What's this big rink. Lieutenant?" asked Jenks.
"Maybe a sea, or maybe just a sunken area, full of solid gases. Stand by the helm, I'm going to gun a few more M. P. H. out of her."
"No wind," grunted Corbett. "Nothing moving except us. The floor of hell."
"If you was in hell, the rest of us would be better off," said Jenks sourly.
Wofforth began to sing, though he did not feel like it:
_Trim your nails and scrape your face, They're all on the Other Side of space! Tokyo--Baltimore, Maryland-- Hong Kong--Paris--Samarkand-- Tokyo--London--Troy--Fort Worth-- The happy towns of the Planet Earth...._
At camp that night he wrote in the log book:
_Second Day: Course due west. Run 1014 mi. To go 8576 mi. approx. Supplies adeq. Spirits fair...._
"What's for supper?" bawled Corbett, entering. "I could eat a horse."
"That'd be cannibalism," said Jenks at once.
"Yah, you splinter! Don't eat any lizards, then."
_Spirits good_, Wofforth corrected his entry, and closed the log book. He thought of Lya Stromminger. She was a most efficient officer. Her hair was black as night on Pluto, and her eyes as bright as the faraway sun.
_Fifth day: Course north, west, then southwest. Curving thru mountainous territory. Run 1066 mi. but direct progress toward base camp not exceeding 950. To go, 6260 mi. approx. Supplies short. Spirits fair._
_Seventh day: Course west, southwest, west, northwest, west. Run 1108 mi. To go 4090 mi. approx. Supplies low. Spirits fair._
_Ninth day: Course northwest by west, west. Run 1108 mi. To go 2030 mi. approx. Supplies low. Spirits low...._
"Lieutenant," said Jenks from across the tent, as Wofforth closed the book.
"We know you're in command. This party and all of Pluto. But we ask permission to state our case."
"What case is your case?" demanded Wofforth, rising. "I'm doing my best to get you back to Base Camp."
"Sure," said Corbett. "Sure. But why Base Camp?"
"That's right, we know why," agreed Jenks, and Corbett grinned in his ten days' tussock of beard.
"They'll have left supplies for us," Wofforth went on. "Shelter and food and fuel and instruments. They'll expect us to reach Base Camp and hold it down for the next attempt to reach Pluto."