which sweep out to sea by Cape Crozier. It was therefore an excellent
place to winter and it was a considerable disappointment to find that it
was impossible to land.

This was the first sight we had of a rookery of the little Adelie
penguin. Hundreds of thousands of birds dotted the shore, and there were
many thousands in the sea round the ship. As we came to know these
rookeries better we came to look upon these quaint creatures more as
familiar friends than as casual acquaintances. Whatever a penguin does
has individuality, and he lays bare his whole life for all to see. He
cannot fly away. And because he is quaint in all that he does, but still
more because he is fighting against bigger odds than any other bird, and
fighting always with the most gallant pluck, he comes to be considered as
something apart from the ordinary bird--sometimes solemn, sometimes
humorous, enterprising, chivalrous, cheeky--and always (unless you are
driving a dog-team) a welcome and, in some ways, an almost human friend.

The alternative landing-place to Cape Crozier was somewhere in McMurdo
Sound, the essential thing being that we should have access to and from
the Barrier, such communication having to be by sea-ice, since the land
is for the most part impassable. As we steamed from Cape Crozier to Cape
Bird, the N.W. extremity of Ross Island, we carried out a detailed
running survey.

When we neared Cape Bird and Beaufort Island we could see that there was
much pack in the mouth of the Strait. By keeping close in to the land we
avoided the worst of the trouble, and "as we rounded Cape Bird we came in
sight of the old well-remembered landmarks--Mount Discovery and the
Western Mountains--seen dimly through a hazy atmosphere. It was good to
see them again, and perhaps after all we are better this side of the
Island. It gives one a homely feeling to see such a familiar scene."[89]

Right round from Cape Crozier to Cape Royds the coast is cold and
forbidding, and for the most part heavily crevassed. West of Cape Bird
are some small penguin rookeries, and high up on the ice slopes could be
seen some grey granite boulders. These are erratics, brought by ice from
the Western Mountains, and are evidence of a warmer past when the Barrier
rose some two thousand feet higher than it does now, and stretched many
hundreds of miles farther out to sea. But now the Antarctic is becoming
colder, the deposition of snow is therefore farther north, and the
formation of ice correspondingly less.

[Illustration: SOUNDING--E. A. Wilson, del.]

[Illustration: KRISRAVITZA]

Many watched all night, as this new world unfolded itself, cape by cape
and mountain by mountain. We pushed through some heavy floes and "at 6
A.M. (on January 4) we came through the last of the Strait pack some
three miles north of Cape Royds. We steered for the Cape, fully expecting
to find the edge of the pack-ice ranging westward from it. To our
astonishment we ran on past the Cape with clear water or thin sludge ice
on all sides of us. Past Cape Royds, past Cape Barne, past the glacier on
its south side, and finally round and past Inaccessible Island, a good
two miles south of Cape Royds. The Cape itself was cut off from the
south. We could have gone farther, but the last sludge ice seemed to be
increasing in thickness, and there was no wintering spot to aim for but
Cape Armitage.[90] I have never seen the ice of the Sound in such a
condition or the land so free from snow. Taking these facts in
conjunction with the exceptional warmth of the air, I came to the
conclusion that it had been an exceptionally warm summer. At this point
it was evident that we had a considerable choice of wintering spots. We
could have gone to either of the small islands, to the mainland, the
Glacier Tongue, or pretty well anywhere except Hut Point. My main wish
was to choose a place that would not be easily cut off from the Barrier,
and my eye fell on a cape which we used to call the Skuary, a little
behind us. It was separated from the old Discovery quarters by two deep
bays on either side of the Glacier Tongue, and I thought that these bays
would remain frozen until late in the season, and that when they froze
over again the ice would soon become firm. I called a council and put
these propositions. To push on to the Glacier Tongue and winter there; to
push west to the 'tombstone' ice and to make our way to an inviting spot
to the northward of the cape we used to call 'the Skuary.' I favoured the
latter course, and on discussion we found it obviously the best, so we
turned back close around Inaccessible Island and steered for the fast ice
off the Cape at full speed. After piercing a small fringe of thin ice at
the edge of the fast floe the ship's stem struck heavily on hard bay ice
about a mile and a half from the shore. Here was a road to the Cape and a
solid wharf on which to land our stores. We made fast with
ice-anchors."[91]

Scott, Wilson and Evans walked away over the sea-ice, but were soon back.
They reported an excellent site for a hut on a shelving beach on the
northern side of the Cape before us, which was henceforward called Cape
Evans, after our second in command. Landing was to begin forthwith.

First came the two big motor sledges which took up so much of our deck
space. In spite of the hundreds of tons of sea-water which had washed
over and about them they came out of their big crates looking "as fresh
and clean as if they had been packed on the previous day."[92] They were
running that same afternoon.

We had a horse-box for the ponies, which came next, but it wanted all
Oates' skill and persuasion to get them into it. All seventeen of them
were soon on the floe, rolling and kicking with joy, and thence they were
led across to the beach where they were carefully picketed to a rope run
over a snow slope where they could not eat sand. Shackleton lost four out
of eight ponies within a month of his arrival. His ponies were picketed
on rubbly ground at Cape Royds, and ate the sand for the salt flavour it
possessed. The fourth pony died from eating shavings in which chemicals
had been packed. This does not mean that they were hungry, merely that
these Manchurian ponies eat the first thing that comes in their way,
whether it be a bit of sugar or a bit of Erebus.

Meanwhile the dog-teams were running light loads between the ship and the
shore. "The great trouble with them has been due to the fatuous conduct
of the penguins. Groups of these have been constantly leaping on to our
floe. From the moment of landing on their feet their whole attitude
expressed devouring curiosity and a pig-headed disregard for their own
safety. They waddle forward, poking their heads to and fro in their
usually absurd way, in spite of a string of howling dogs straining to get
at them. 'Hulloa!' they seem to say, 'here's a game--what do all you
ridiculous things want?' And they come a few steps nearer. The dogs make
a rush as far as their harness or leashes allow. The penguins are not
daunted in the least, but their ruffs go up and they squawk with
semblance of anger, for all the world as though they were rebutting a
rude stranger--their attitude might be imagined to convey, 'Oh, that's
the sort of animal you are; well, you've come to the wrong place--we
aren't going to be bluffed and bounced by you,' and then the final fatal
steps forward are taken and they come within reach. There is a spring, a
squawk, a horrid red patch on the snow, and the incident is closed."[93]

Everything had to be sledged nearly a mile and a half across the sea-ice,
but at midnight, after seventeen hours' continuous work, the position was
most satisfactory. The large amount of timber which went to make the hut
was mostly landed. The ponies and dogs were sleeping in the sun on shore.
A large green tent housed the hut builders, and the site for the hut was
levelled.

"Such weather in such a place comes nearer to satisfying my ideal of
perfection than any condition I have ever experienced. The warm glow of
the sun with the keen invigorating cold of the air forms a combination
which is inexpressibly health-giving and satisfying to me, whilst the
golden light on this wonderful scene of mountain and ice satisfies every
claim of scenic magnificence. No words of mine can convey the
impressiveness of the wonderful panorama displayed to our eyes.... It's
splendid to see at last the effect of all the months of preparation and
organisation. There is much snoring about me as I write (2 A.M.) from men
tired after a hard day's work and preparing for such another to-morrow. I
also must sleep, for I have had none for 48 hours--but it should be to
dream happily."[94]

Getting to bed about midnight and turning out at 5 A.M. we kept it up day
after day. Petrol, paraffin, pony food, dog food, sledges and sledging
gear, hut furniture, provisions of all kinds both for life at the hut and
for sledging, coal, scientific instruments and gear, carbide, medical
stores, clothing--I do not know how many times we sledged over that
sea-ice, but I do know that we were landed as regards all essentials in
six days. "Nothing like it has been done before; nothing so expeditious
and complete."[95] ... and "Words cannot express the splendid way in
which every one works."[96]

The two motors, the two dog-teams, man-hauling parties, and, as they were
passed for work by Oates, the ponies; all took part in this transport. As
usual Bowers knew just where everything was, and where it was to go, and
he was most ably seconded on the ship by Rennick and Bruce. Both
man-hauling parties and pony-leaders commonly did ten journeys a day, a
distance of over thirty miles. The ponies themselves did one to three or
four journeys as they were considered fit.

Generally speaking the transport seemed satisfactory, but it soon became
clear that sea-ice was very hard on the motor sledge runners. "The motor
sledges are working well, but not very well; the small difficulties will
be got over, but I rather fear they will never draw the loads we expect
of them. Still they promise to be a help, and they are a lively and
attractive feature of our present scene as they drone along over the
floe. At a little distance, without silencers, they sound exactly like
threshing machines."[97]

The ponies were the real problem. It was to be expected that they would
be helpless and exhausted after their long and trying voyage. Not a bit
of it! They were soon rolling about, biting one another, kicking one
another, and any one else, with the best will in the world. After two
days' rest on shore, twelve of them were thought fit to do one journey,
on which they pulled loads varying from 700 to 1000 lbs. with ease on the
hard sea-ice surface. But it was soon clear that these ponies were an
uneven lot. There were the steady workers like Punch and Nobby; there
were one or two definitely weak ponies like Blossom, Bluecher and Jehu;
and there were one or two strong but rather impossible beasts. One of
these was soon known as Weary Willie. His outward appearance belied him,
for he looked like a pony. A brief acquaintance soon convinced me that
he was without doubt a cross between a pig and a mule. He was obviously a
strong beast and, since he always went as slowly as possible and stopped
as often as possible it was most difficult to form any opinion as to what
load he was really able to draw. Consequently I am afraid there is little
doubt that he was generally overloaded until that grim day on the Barrier
when he was set upon by a dog-team. It was his final collapse at the end
of the Depot journey which caused Scott to stay behind when we went out
on the sea-ice. But of that I shall speak again.

Twice only have I ever seen Weary Willie trot. We were leading the ponies
now as always with halters and without bits. Consequently our control was
limited, especially on ice, but doubtless the ponies' comfort was
increased, especially in cold weather when a metal bit would have been
difficult if not impossible. On this occasion he and I had just arrived
at the ship after a trudge in which I seemed to be pulling both Weary and
the sledge. Just then a motor back-fired, and we started back across that
floe at a pace which surprised Weary even more than myself, for he fell
over the sledge, himself and me, and for days I felt like a big black
bruise. The second occasion on which he got a move on was during the
Depot journey when Gran on ski tried to lead him.

Christopher and Hackenschmidt were impossible ponies. Christopher, as we
shall see, died on the Barrier a year after this, fighting almost to the
last. Hackenschmidt, so called "from his vicious habit of using both fore
and hind legs in attacking those who came near him,"[98] led an even more
lurid life but had a more peaceful end. Whether Oates could have tamed
him I do not know: he would have done it if it were possible, for his
management of horses was wonderful. But in any case Hackenschmidt
sickened at the hut while we were absent on the Depot journey, for no
cause which could be ascertained, gradually became too weak to stand, and
was finally put out of his misery.

There was a breathless minute when Hackenschmidt, with a sledge attached
to him, went galloping over the hills and boulders. Below him, all
unconscious of his impending fate, was Ponting, adjusting a large camera
with his usual accuracy. Both survived. There were runaways innumerable,
and all kinds of falls. But these ponies could tumble about unharmed in a
way which would cause an English horse to lie up for a week. "There is no
doubt that the bumping of the sledges close at the heels of the animals
is the root of the evil."[99]

There were two adventures during this first week of landing stores which
might well have had a more disastrous conclusion. The first of these was
the adventure of Ponting and the Killer whales.

"I was a little late on the scene this morning, and thereby witnessed a
most extraordinary scene. Some six or seven killer whales, old and young,
were skirting the fast floe edge ahead of the ship; they seemed excited
and dived rapidly, almost touching the floe. As we watched, they suddenly
appeared astern, raising their snouts out of water. I had heard weird
stories of these beasts, but had never associated serious danger with
them. Close to the water's edge lay the wire stern rope of the ship, and
our two Esquimaux dogs were tethered to this. I did not think of
connecting the movement of the whales with this fact, and seeing them so
close I shouted to Ponting, who was standing abreast of the ship. He
seized his camera and ran towards the floe edge to get a close picture of
the beasts, which had momentarily disappeared. The next moment the whole
floe under him and the dogs heaved up and split into fragments. One could
hear the booming noise as the whales rose under the ice and struck it
with their backs. Whale after whale rose under the ice, setting it
rocking fiercely; luckily Ponting kept his feet and was able to fly to
security. By an extraordinary chance also, the splits had been made
around and between the dogs, so that neither of them fell into the water.
Then it was clear that the whales shared our astonishment, for one after
another their huge hideous heads shot vertically into the air through
the cracks which they had made. As they reared them to a height of six
or eight feet it was possible to see their tawny head markings, their
small glistening eyes, and their terrible array of teeth--by far the
largest and most terrifying in the world. There cannot be a doubt that
they looked up to see what had happened to Ponting and the dogs.

"The latter were horribly frightened and strained to their chains,
whining; the head of one killer must certainly have been within five feet
of one of the dogs.

"After this, whether they thought the game insignificant, or whether they
missed Ponting is uncertain, but the terrifying creatures passed on to
other hunting grounds, and we were able to rescue the dogs, and what was
even more important, our petrol--five or six tons of which was waiting on
a piece of ice which was not split away from the main mass.

"Of course, we have known well that killer whales continually skirt the
edge of the floes and that they would undoubtedly snap up any one who was
unfortunate enough to fall into the water; but the facts that they could
display such deliberate cunning, that they were able to break ice of such
thickness (at least 21/2 feet), and that they could act in unison, were a
revelation to us. It is clear that they are endowed with singular
intelligence, and in future we shall treat that intelligence with every
respect."[100]

We were to be hunted by these Killer whales again.

The second adventure was the loss of the third motor sledge. It was
Sunday morning, January 8, and Scott had given orders that this motor was
to be hoisted out of the ship. "This was done first thing and the motor
placed on firm ice. Later Campbell told me one of the men had dropped a
leg through crossing a sludgy patch some 200 yards from the ship. I
didn't consider it very serious, as I imagined the man had only gone
through the surface crust. About 7 A.M. I started for the shore with a
single man load, leaving Campbell looking about for the best crossing for
the motor."[101]

I find a note in my own diary as to what happened after that: "Last night
the ice was getting very soft in places, and I was a little doubtful
about leading ponies over a spot on the route to the hut which is about a
quarter of a mile from the ship. It has been thawing very fast the last
few days, and has been very hot as Antarctic weather goes. This morning
was the same, and Bailey went in up to his neck.

"Some half-hour after the motor was put on to the floe, we were told to
tow it on to firm ice as that near the ship was breaking up. All hands
started on a long tow line. We got on to the rotten piece, and somebody
behind shouted 'You must run.' From that moment everything happened very
quickly. Williamson fell right in through the ice; immediately afterwards
we were all brought up with a jerk. Then the line began to pull us
backwards; the stern of the motor had sunk through the ice, and the whole
car began to sink. It slowly went right through and disappeared and then
the tow line followed it. Everything possible was done to hang on to the
rope, but in the end we had to let it go, each man keeping his hold until
he was dragged to the lip of the hole. Then we made for the fast ice,
leaving the rotten bit between us and the ship.

"Pennell and Priestley sounded their way back to the ship, and Day asked
Priestley to bring his goggles when he returned. They came back with a
life-line, Pennell leading. Suddenly the ice gave way under Priestley,
who disappeared entirely and came up, so we learned afterwards, under the
ice, there being a big current. In a moment Pennell was lying flat upon
the floe on his chest, got his hand under Priestley's arm, and so pulled
him out. All Priestley said was, 'Day, here are your goggles.' We all got
back to the ship, but communication between the ship and the shore was
interrupted for the rest of the day, when a solid road was found right up
to the ship in another place."[102]

Meanwhile the hut was rising very quickly, and Davies, who was Chippy
Chap, the carpenter, deserves much credit. He was a leading shipwright
in the navy, always willing and bright, and with a very thorough
knowledge of his job. I have seen him called up hour after hour, day and
night, on the ship, when the pumps were choked by the coal balls which
formed in the bilges, and he always arrived with a smile on his face.
Altogether he was one of our most useful men. In this job of hut-building
he was helped by two of our seamen, Keohane and Abbott, and others.
Latterly I believe there were more people working than there were
hammers!

A plan of this hut is given here. It was 50 feet long, by 25 feet wide,
and 9 feet to the eaves. The insulation, which was very satisfactory, was
seaweed, sewn up in the form of a quilt.

"The sides have double [match-] boarding inside and outside the frames,
with a layer of our excellent quilted seaweed insulation between each
pair of boardings. The roof has a single match-boarding inside, but on
the outside is a match-boarding, then a layer of 2-ply ruberoid, then a
layer of quilted seaweed, then a second match-boarding, and finally a
cover of 3-ply ruberoid."[103]

The floor consisted of a wooden boarding next the frame, then a quilt of
seaweed, then a layer of felt upon which was a second boarding and
finally linoleum.

We thought we should be warm, and we were. In fact, during the winter,
with twenty-five men living there, and the cooking range going, and
perhaps also the stove at the other end, the hut not infrequently became
fuggy, big though it was.

The entrance was through a door in a porch before you got to the main
door. In the porch were the generators of the acetylene gas, which was
fitted throughout by Day, who was also responsible for the fittings of
the ventilator, cooking range, and stove, the chimney pipes from these
running along through the middle of the hut before entering a common
vent. Little heat was lost. The pipes were fitted with dampers, and air
inlets which could be opened or shut at will to control the ventilation.
Besides a big ventilator in the top of the hut there was an adjustable
air inlet also at the base of the chamber which formed the junction of
the two chimneys. The purpose of this was also ventilation, but it was
not successful.

The bulkhead which separated the men's quarters, or mess deck, from the
rest of the hut, was formed of such cases as contained goods in glass,
including wine, which would have frozen and broken outside. The bulkhead
did not go as high as the top of the hut. When the contents of a case
were wanted, a side of the box was taken out, and the empty case then
formed a shelf.

We started to live in the hut on January 18, beautifully warm, the
gramophone going, and everybody happy. But for a long time before this
most of the landing party had been living in tents on shore. It was very
comfortable, far more so than might be supposed, judging only by the
popular idea of a polar life. We were now almost landed, there were just
a few things more to come over from the ship. "It was blowing a mild
blizzard from the south, and I took a sledge over to the ship, which was
quite blotted out in blinding snow at times. It was as hard to get an
empty sledge over, as generally it is to drag a full one. Tea on the
ship, which was very full of welcome, but also very full of the
superiority of their own comforts over those of the land. Their own
comforts were not so very obvious, since they had tried to get the stove
in the wardroom going for the first time. They were all coughing in the
smoke, and everything inside was covered with smuts."[104]

The hut itself was some twelve feet above the sea, and situated upon what
was now an almost sandy beach of black lava. It was thought that this was
high enough to be protected from any swell likely to arrive in such a
sheltered place, but, as we shall see, Scott was very anxious as to the
fate of the hut, when, on the Depot journey, a swell removed not only
miles of sea-ice and a good deal of Barrier, but also the end of Glacier
Tongue. We never saw this beach again, for the autumn gales covered it
with thick drifts of snow, and the thaw was never enough to remove this
for the two other summers we spent here. There is no doubt this was an
exceptional year for thaw. We never again saw a little waterfall such as
was now tumbling down the rocks from Skua Lake into the sea.

The little hill of 66 feet high behind us was soon named Wind Vane Hill,
and there were other meteorological instruments there besides. A
snow-drift or ice-drift always forms to leeward of any such projection,
and that beneath this hill was large enough for us to drive into it two
ice caves. The first of these was to contain our larder, notably the
frozen mutton carcasses brought down by us from New Zealand in the
ice-house on deck. These, however, showed signs of mildew, and we never
ate very freely of them. Seal and penguin were our stock meat foods, and
mutton was considered to be a luxury.

The second cave, 13 feet long by 5 feet wide, hollowed out by Simpson and
Wright, was for the magnetic instruments. The temperature of these caves
was found to be fairly constant. Unfortunately, this was the only drift
into which we could tunnel, and we had no such mass of snow and ice as is
afforded by the Barrier, which can be burrowed, and was burrowed
extensively by Amundsen and his men.

The cases containing the bulk of our stores were placed in stacks
arranged by Bowers up on the sloping ground to the west of the hut,
beginning close to the entrance door. The sledges lay on the hill side
above them. This arrangement was very satisfactory during the first
winter, but the excessive blizzards of the second winter and the immense
amount of snow which was gathering about the camp caused us to move
everything up to the top of the ridge behind the hut where the wind kept
them more clear. Amundsen found it advisable to put his cases in two long
lines.[105]

The dogs were tethered to a long chain or rope. The ponies' stable was
built against the northern side of the hut, and was thus sheltered from
the blizzards which always blow here from the south. Against the south
side of the hut Bowers built himself a store-room. "Every day he
conceives or carries out some plan to benefit the camp."[106]

"Scott seems very cheery about things," I find in my diary about this
time. And well he might be. A man could hardly be better served. We
slaved until we were nearly dead-beat, and then we found something else
to do until we were quite dead-beat. Ship's company and landing parties
alike, not only now but all through this job, did their very utmost, and
their utmost was very good. The way men worked was fierce.

"If you can picture our house nestling below this small hill on a long
stretch of black sand, with many tons of provision cases ranged in neat
blocks in front of it and the sea lapping the ice-foot below, you will
have some idea of our immediate vicinity. As for our wider surroundings
it would be difficult to describe their beauty in sufficiently glowing
terms. Cape Evans is one of the many spurs of Erebus and the one that
stands closest under the mountain, so that always towering above us we
have the grand snowy peak with its smoking summit. North and south of us
are deep bays, beyond which great glaciers come rippling over the lower
slopes to thrust high blue-walled snouts into the sea. The sea is blue
before us, dotted with shining bergs or ice floes, whilst far over the
Sound, yet so bold and magnificent as to appear near, stand the beautiful
Western Mountains with their numerous lofty peaks, their deep glacial
valley and clear cut scarps, a vision of mountain scenery that can have
few rivals."[107]

[Illustration: MT. EREBUS, THE RAMP AND THE HUT]

"Before I left England people were always telling me the Antarctic must
be dull without much life. Now we are in ourselves a perfect farmyard.
There are nineteen ponies fifty yards off and thirty dogs just behind,
and they howl like the wolves they are at intervals, led by Dyk. The
skuas are nesting all round and fighting over the remains of the seals
which we have killed, and the penguins which the dogs have killed,
whenever they have got the chance. The collie bitch which we have
brought down for breeding purposes wanders about the camp. A penguin is
standing outside my tent, presumably because he thinks he is going to
moult here. A seal has just walked up into the horse lines--there are
plenty of Weddell and penguins and whales. On board we have Nigger and a
blue Persian kitten, with rabbits and squirrels. The whole place teems
with life.

"Franky Drake is employed all day wandering round for ice for watering
the ship. Yesterday he had made a pile out on the floe, and the men
wanted to have a flag put on it, and have it photographed, and called
'Mr. Drake's Furthest South.'"[108]

January 25 was fixed as the day upon which twelve of us, with eight
ponies and the two dog-teams, were to start south to lay a depot upon the
Barrier for the Polar Journey. Scott was of opinion that the bays between
us and the Hut Point Peninsula would freeze over in March, probably early
in March, and that we should most of us get back to Cape Evans then. At
the same time the ponies could not come down over the cliffs of this
tongue of land, and preparations had to be made for a lengthy stay at Hut
Point for them and their keepers. For this purpose Scott meant to use the
old Discovery hut at Hut Point.[109]

On January 15 he took Meares and one dog-team, and started for Hut Point,
which was fifteen statute miles to the south of us. They crossed Glacier
Tongue, finding upon it a depot of compressed fodder and maize which had
been left by Shackleton. The open water to the west nearly reached the
Tongue.

On arrival at the hut Scott was shocked to find it full of snow and ice.
This was serious, and, as we found afterwards the drifted snow had thawed
down into ice: the whole of the inside of this hut was a big ice block.
In the middle of this ice was a pile of cases left by the Discovery as a
depot. They were, we knew, full of biscuit.

"There was something too depressing in finding the old hut in such a
desolate condition. I had had so much interest in seeing all the old
landmarks and the huts apparently intact. To camp outside and feel that
all the old comforts and cheer had departed was dreadfully
heartrending."[110]

That night "we slept badly till the morning and, therefore, late. After
breakfast we went up the hills; there was a keen S.E. breeze, but the sun
shone and my spirits revived. There was very much less snow everywhere
than I had ever seen. The ski run was completely cut through in two
places, the Gap and Observation Hill almost bare, a great bare slope on
the side of Arrival Heights, and on top of Crater Heights an immense bare
table-land. How delighted we should have been to see it like this in the
old days! The pond was thawed and the confervae green in fresh water. The
hole which we had dug in the mound in the pond was still there, as Meares
discovered by falling into it up to his waist, and getting very wet.

"On the south side we could see the pressure ridges beyond Pram Point as
of old--Horseshoe Bay calm and unpressed--the sea-ice pressed on Pram
Point and along the Gap ice front, and a new ridge running around C.
Armitage about 2 miles off. We saw Ferrar's old thermometer tubes
standing out of the snow slope as though they'd been placed yesterday.
Vince's cross might have been placed yesterday--the paint was so fresh
and the inscription so legible."[111]

We had two officers who had been with Shackleton in his 1908
Expedition--Priestley, who was in our Northern Party, and Day, who was in
charge of our motors. Priestley with two others sledged over to Cape
Royds and has left an account of the old hut there:

"After pitching tent Levick and I went over to the hut to forage. On the
way I visited Derrick Point and took a large seven-pound tin of butter
while Levick opened up the hut. It was very dark inside but I pulled the
boarding down from the windows so that we could see all right. It was
very funny to see everything lying about just as we had left it, in that
last rush to get off in the lull of the blizzard. On Marston's bunk was a
sixpenny copy of the Story of Bessie Costrell, which some one had
evidently read and left open. Perhaps what brought the old times back
again more than anything else was the fact that as I came out of the
larder the sleeve of my wind clothes caught the tap of the copper and
turned it on. When I heard the drip of the water I turned instinctively
and turned the tap off, almost expecting to hear Bobs' raucous voice
cursing me for my clumsiness. Perhaps what strikes one more forcibly than
anything else is the fact that nothing has been disturbed. On the table
was the remains of a batch of bread that Bobs had cooked for us and that
was only partially consumed before the Nimrod called for us. Some of the
rolls showed the impression of bites given to them in 1909. All round the
bread were the sauces, pickles, pepper and salt of our usual standing
lunch, and a half-opened tin of gingerbreads was a witness to the dryness
of the climate for they were still crisp as the day they were opened.

"In the cubicle near the larder were the loose tins that poor Armytage
and myself had collected from all round the hut before we left.

"On the shelves of my cubicle are still stacked the magazines and paper
brought down by the relief ship. Nothing is changed at all except the
company. It is almost dismal. I expect to see people come in through the
door after a walk over the surrounding hills.

"We had not much time to look round us; for Campbell was cooking in the
tent, so we slung a few tins of jam, a plum-pudding, some tea, and
gingerbreads into a sack, and returned to camp. By this time it was
snowing heavily and continued to do so after dinner so that we turned in
immediately (1.30 P.M.) and went off to sleep. One thing worth mentioning
is that on several of the drifts are well-defined hoof marks, some of
them looking so new that we could have sworn that they had been made this
year.

"The Old Sport [Levick] gave us a start by suddenly announcing that he
could see a ship quite close, and for some time we were on tenterhooks,
but his ship proved to be the Terra Nova ice-anchored off the Skuary.

"The whole place is very eerie, there is such a feeling of life about it.
Not only do I feel it but the others do also. Last night after I turned
in I could have sworn that I heard people shouting to each other.

"I thought that I had only got an attack of nerves but Campbell asked me
if I had heard any shouting, for he had certainly done so. It must have
been the seals calling to each other, but it certainly did sound most
human. We are getting so worked up that we should not be a bit surprised
to see a settlement of Japanese or some other such people some day when
we stroll round towards Blacksand Beach. The Old Sport created some
amusement this evening by opening a tin of Nestle's milk at both ends
instead of making the two holes at one end. He informed us that he had
got so used to using two whole tins of milk for cocoa for fourteen people
at night that he always opened them that way.

"As a consequence we have to spend most of our spare time making bungs to
keep the milk in the tin."[112]

Meanwhile, as was to be expected, the action of the, I suspect, abnormal
summer sea temperature was showing its effect upon the sea-ice. Sea-ice
thaws from below when the temperature of the water rises. The northern
ice goes out first here, being next to the open water, but big thaw pools
form at the same time wherever a current of water flows over shallows, as
at the end of Cape Evans, Hut Point and Cape Armitage.

On January 17 the ice was breaking away between the point of Cape Evans
and the ship, although a road still remained fast between the ship and
the shore. The ship began to get up steam, but the fast ice broke away
quickly that night. I believe they got steam in three hours, twelve hours
being the time generally allowed: only just in time, however, for she
broke adrift as it was reported. The next morning she made fast to the
ice only 200 yards from the ice-foot of the Cape.

"For the present the position is extraordinarily comfortable. With a
southerly blow she would simply bind on to the ice, receiving great
shelter from the end of the Cape. With a northerly blow she might turn
rather close to the shore, where the soundings run to three fathoms, but
behind such a stretch of ice she could scarcely get a sea or swell
without warning. It looks a wonderfully comfortable little nook, but of
course one can be certain of nothing in this place; one knows from
experience how deceptive the appearance of security may be."[113]

The ship's difficulties were largely due to the shortage of coal. Again
on the night of January 20-21 we had an anxious time.

"Fearing a little trouble I went out of the hut in the middle of the
night and saw at once that she was having a bad time--the ice was
breaking with a northerly swell and the wind increasing, with the ship on
dead lee shore; luckily the ice anchors had been put well in on the floe
and some still held. Pennell was getting up steam and his men struggling
to replace the anchors.

"We got out the men and gave some help. At 6 steam was up, and I was
right glad to see the ship back out to windward, leaving us to recover
anchors and hawsers."[114]

A big berg drove in just after the ship had got away, and grounded where
she had been lying. The ship returned in the afternoon, and it seems that
she was searching round for an anchorage, and trying to look behind this
berg. There was a strongish northerly wind blowing. The currents and
soundings round Cape Evans were then unknown. The current was setting
strongly from the north through the strip of sea which divides
Inaccessible Island from Cape Evans, a distance of some two-thirds of a
mile. The engines were going astern, but the current and wind were too
much for her, and the ship ran aground, being fast for some considerable
distance aft--some said as far as the mainmast.

"Visions of the ship failing to return to New Zealand and of sixty people
waiting here arose in my mind with sickening pertinacity, and the only
consolation I could draw from such imaginations was the determination
that the southern work should go on as before--meanwhile the least ill
possible seemed to be an extensive lightening of the ship with boats as
the tide was evidently high when she struck--a terribly depressing
prospect.

"Some three or four of us watched it gloomily from the shore whilst all
was bustle on board, the men shifting cargo aft. Pennell tells me they
shifted 10 tons in a very short time.

"The first ray of hope came when by careful watching one could see that
the ship was turning very slowly, then one saw the men running from side
to side and knew that an attempt was being made to roll her off. The
rolling produced a more rapid turning movement at first, and then she
seemed to hang again. But only for a short time; the engines had been
going astern all the time and presently a slight movement became
apparent. But we only knew she was getting clear when we heard cheers on
board, and more cheers from the whaler.

"Then she gathered stern way and was clear. The relief was
enormous."[115]

All this took some time, and Scott himself came back into the hut with us
and went on bagging provisions for the Depot journey. At such times of
real disaster he was a very philosophical man. We were not yet ready to
go sledging, but on January 23 the ice in North Bay all went out, and
that in South Bay began to follow it. Because this was our road to the
Barrier, it was suddenly decided that we must start on the Depot journey
the following day or perhaps not at all. Already it was impossible to get
sledges south off the Cape: but there was a way to walk the ponies along
the land until they could be scrambled down a steep rubbly slope on to
sea-ice which still remained. Would it float away before we got there? It
was touch and go. "One breathes a prayer that the Road holds for the few
remaining hours. It goes in one place between a berg in open water and a
large pool of the Glacier face--it may be weak in that part, and at any
moment the narrow isthmus may break away. We are doing it on a very
narrow margin."[116]

FOOTNOTES:

[84] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 77.

[85] Thomson.

[86] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 80.

[87] Wilson's Journal, _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 613,
614.

[88] See Introduction, p. xxxv.

[89] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 87.

[90] The extreme south point of the island, a dozen miles farther,
on one of whose minor headlands, Hut Point, stood the
Discovery hut.

[91] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 88-90.

[92] Ibid. p. 91.

[93] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 52-93.

[94] Ibid. pp. 92-94.

[95] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 111.

[96] Ibid. p. 94.

[97] Ibid. p. 100.

[98] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 230.

[99] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 113-114.

[100] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 94-96.