Adventures in the Far Future & Tales of Outer Space — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“I was going to say,” continued Maun tonelessly, realizing that his best and only friend was about to slip two thousand miles away from him, “that they carried just such an item. Lights were seen in Bolama, to the North, by some trappers.” “Bolama,” echoed Striker. He had seen literary allusions to the frozen peninsula before; it was the equivalent of Ultima Thule. STRIKER shifted the heavy-laden pack on his shoulders. It had been the rucksack that he had taken with him into this world of the future, and with it he carried the rifle and air- gun that had been also part of his equipment. He didn’t trust the tricky little steamguns of the people who had befriended and enriched him. He had left his porters behind him at the _ last weatherstation, heeding their terrified pleading. And now had come sudden realization of the futility of carrying with him, as he had planned, the masses of observational equipment now discarded. Ahead of him, the trail was unmarked and the snow new. Glimpsing high above him the sharp line of demarcation between snow and sky, he felt his body go cold. It must be the altitude, he thought. When he had dropped the porters, they had told him that the highlands ahead were almost unexplored. They thought that he would find an aboriginal village inhabited by natives of the continent. They thought, also, that these natives would give him food and shelter. But they were by no means sine. Once beyond the timberline, they were automatically lost, despite the marvelous maps and trek-charts that Maun had prepared for the journey. He paused to look behind him for a moment, seeing his tracks in rotten snow, then mushed on. And at the peak of the pass he stopped short. Before him stretched so CORniclooo SS CO