The Mountains Of Madness
Part 4's

As the public knows, our return to the world was achieved without further disaster. All planes reach the old base on the night of the next day — 27 January — after a fast flight; and on the 28th we make McMurdo Sound in two laps, which is a very short pause, and, and it was caused by the wrong steering in a furious wind over the ice shelf after we cleared the plateau. In five more days Arkham and Miskatonic, with all hands and equipment in it, rocking the thickened ice and working over the Ross Sea with mountains mocking Victoria Land soaring westward toward the troubled Antarctic sky and whirling winds roaring into the cooling multifaceted piping of music my soul is fast. Less than two weeks later we left the final clue of the polar land behind us, and thanked heaven that we were free from a haunted, damned world where life and death, he said, space and time, have made black and blasphemous alliances in an unknown age since matter first wriggled and swam in the crust of this rare-cooled planet.

Since our return, we have all continued to work to prevent the exploration of Antarctica, and harbour doubts and conjectures for ourselves with great unity and loyalty.  Even young Danforth, with his nervous breakdown, has not gasped or raved to his doctor — indeed, as I have said, there is one thing he thinks he himself sees that he will not tell me, although I think it will help his psychological state whether he will agree to do so. That might explain and alleviate a lot of things, though perhaps the problem is nothing more than the result of the previous shock. That was the impression I gathered after those rare irresponsible moments when he whispered disjointed things to me — things he violently rejected once he had mastered himself any more.

It will be hard work to deter others from the great white south, and some of our efforts may directly jeopardize our goals by attracting people's attention. We may know from the first that human curiosity is dying, and that the results we announce will be enough to push others forward to pursue long-standing unknowns. Lake's report of biological monstrosities has raised naturalists and palaeontologists to the highest peaks; although we are reasonable enough not to show the separate parts we have taken from actual buried specimens, or our photographs of those specimens when they were discovered. We also refrain from surprising the more confusing scarred bones and greenish soap stones; while Danforth and I strictly guarded the photos we took or the pictures on the plateau across there, and the tangled objects we straightened out, were studied in terror, he said, and carried in our pockets. But now the Starkweather-Moore party is setting in, and with precision far beyond anything our clothes try. If not persuaded, they will get to the deepest core of Antarctica and fuse and give birth until they bring forth what might end the world we know. So I had to break through all the reluctance at the end of — even about that ultimate nameless thing behind a madness-filled mountain.