same subject before making up his mind.[285]
FOOTNOTES:

[280] My own diary.

[281] My own diary.

[282] My own diary.

[283] See Amundsen, _The South Pole_, vol. i. p. 264.

[284] Ibid. vol. i. p. 119.

[285] Scott, _Voyage of the Discovery_, vol. i. pp. 480-487.




CHAPTER XV

ANOTHER SPRING

O to dream, O to awake and wander
There, and with delight to take and render,
Through the trance of silence,
Quiet breath;
Lo! for there among the flowers and grasses,
Only the mightier movement sounds and passes;
Only winds and rivers,
Life and death.


The flowers were of snow, the rivers of ice, and if Stevenson had been to
the Antarctic he would have made them so.

God sent His daylight to scatter the nightmares of the darkness. I can
remember now the joy of an August day when the sun looked over the rim of
the Barne Glacier, and my shadow lay clear-cut upon the snow. It was
wonderful what a friendly thing that ice-slope became. We put the first
trace upon the sunshine recorder; there was talk of expeditions to Cape
Royds and Hut Point, and survey parties; and we ate our luncheon by the
daylight which shone through the newly cleared window.

The coming Search Journey was organized to reach the Upper Glacier Depot,
and the plans were modelled upon the Polar Journey of the year before.
But now we had no extensive depots on the Barrier. It was intended that
the dogs should run two trips out to Corner Camp during this spring. It
was hoped that two parties of four men each might be able to ascend the
Beardmore, one of them remaining about half-way up and doing geological
and other scientific work while the other went up to the top.

In our inmost thoughts we were full of doubts and fears. "I had a long
talk with Lashly, who asked me what I candidly thought had happened to
the Southern Party. I told him a crevasse. He says he does not think so:
he thinks it is scurvy. Talking about crevasses he says that, on the
return of the Second Return Party, they came right over the ice-falls
south of Mount Darwin,--descending about 2000 feet into a great valley,
down which they travelled towards the west, and so to the Upper Glacier
Depot. I believe Scott told Evans (Lieut.) that he meant to come back
this same way."

"Then the stuff they got into above the Cloudmaker must have been
horrible. 'Why, there are places there you could put St. Paul's into, and
that's no exaggeration, neither,' and they spent two nights in it. All
the way down to the Gateway he says there were crevasses, great big
fellows thirty feet across, which we of the First Return Party had
crossed both going and coming back and which we never saw. But then much
of the snow had gone and they were visible. Lieut. Evans was very badly
snowblind most of this time. Then outside the Gateway, on the Barrier,
they crossed many crevasses, and some had fallen in where we had passed
over them."

"This makes one think. Is the state of affairs in which we found the
glacier an extraordinary one, the snow being a special phenomenon due to
that great blizzard and snowfall? Are we going to find blue ice this year
where we found thick soft snow last? Well! I have got a regular bad
needle again, just as I have had before. But somehow the needle has
always worked off when we get right into it. What a blessing it is that
things are seldom as bad in the reality as you expect they are going to
be in your imagination: though I must say the Winter Journey was worse
even than I had imagined. I remember that this time last year the thought
of the Beardmore was very terrible: but the reality was never very bad."

"Lashly thinks it would be practically impossible for five men to
disappear down a crevasse. Where three men got through (and he said it
would be impossible to get worse stuff than they came through), five men
would be still better off. This is not my view, however. I think that the
extra weight of one man might make all the difference in crossing a big
crevasse: and if several men fell through one of those great bridges when
sledge and men were all on it, I do not think the bridge would hold the
sledge."[286]

Several trips were made to Cape Royds over the Barne Glacier, and then by
portaging over the rocks to Shackleton's old hut. The sea was open here,
except for small niches of ice, and the hut and the cape were
comparatively free from drifts; probably the open water had swallowed the
drifting snow. Not so Hut Point, which was surrounded by huge drifts: the
verandah which we had built up as a stable was filled from floor to roof:
there was no ice-foot to be seen, only a long snow-slope from the door to
the sea-level. The hut itself, when we had dug our way into it, was
clear. We took down stores for the Search Journey, and brought back with
us the only surviving sledge-meter.

These instruments, which indicate by a clockwork arrangement the distance
travelled in miles and yards, are actuated by a wheel which runs behind
the sledge. They are of the greatest possible use, especially when
sledging out of sight of land on the Barrier or Plateau, and we bitterly
regretted that we had no more. They do not have an easy time on a
glacier, and we lost the mechanism of one of our three Polar Journey
meters when on the Beardmore. Dog-driving is hard on them; and
pony-driving when the ponies are like Christopher plays the very deuce.
Anyway we found we had only one left for this year, and this was more or
less a dud. It was mended so far as possible but was never really
reliable, and latterly was useless. A lot of trouble was taken by Lashly
to make another with a bicycle wheel from one of our experimental trucks,
the revolutions of which were marked on a counter which was almost
exactly similar to one of our anemometer registers. A bicycle wheel of
course stood much higher than our proper sledge-meters, and a difficulty
rose in fixing it to the sledge so as to prevent its wobbling and at the
same time allow it the necessary amount of play.

Meanwhile the mules were being brought on in condition. With daylight and
improved weather they were exercised with loaded sledges on the sea-ice
which still remained in South Bay. They went like lambs, and were
evidently used to the work. Gulab was a troublesome little animal: he had
no objection to pulling a sledge, but was just ultra-timid. Again and
again he was got into position for having his traces hitched on, and each
time some little thing, the flapping of a mitt, the touch of the trace,
or the feel of the bow of the sledge, frightened him and he was off, and
the same performance had to be repeated. Once harnessed he was very good.
The breast harness sent down for them by the Indian Government was used:
it was excellent; though Oates, I believe, had an idea that collars were
better. However, we had not got the collars. The mules themselves looked
very fit and strong: our only doubt was whether their small hoofs would
sink into soft snow even farther than the ponies had done.

No record of this expedition would be complete without some mention of
the cases of fire which occurred. The first was in the lazarette of the
ship on the voyage to Cape Town: it was caused by an overturned lamp and
easily extinguished. The second was during our first winter in the
Antarctic, when there was a fire in the motor shed, which was formed by
full petrol cases built up round the motors, and roofed with a tarpaulin.
This threatened to be more serious, but was also put out without much
difficulty. The third and fourth cases were during the winter which had
just passed, and were both inside Winter Quarters.

Wright wanted a lamp to heat a shed which he was building out of cases
and tarpaulins for certain of his work. He brought a lamp (not a primus)
into the hut, and tried to make it work. He spent some time in the
morning on this, and after lunch Nelson joined him. The lamp was fitted
with an indicator to show the pressure obtained by pumping. Nelson was
pumping, kneeling at the end of the table next the bulkhead which divided
the officers' and men's quarters: his head was level with the lamp, and
the indicator was not showing a high pressure. Wright was standing close
by. Suddenly the lamp burst, a rent three inches long appearing in the
join where the bottom of the oil reservoir is fitted to the rest of the
bowl. Twenty places were alight immediately, clothing, bedding, papers
and patches of burning oil were all over the table and floor. Luckily
everybody was in the hut, for it was blowing a blizzard and minus twenty
outside. They were very quick, and every outbreak was stopped.

On September 5 it was blowing as if it would rip your wind-clothes off
you. We were bagging pemmican in the hut when some one said, "Can you
smell burning?" At first we could not see anything wrong, and Gran said
it must be some brown paper he had burnt; but after three or four
minutes, looking upwards, we saw that the top of the chimney piping was
red hot where it went out through the roof, as was also a large
ventilator trap which entered the flue at this point. We put salt down
from outside, and the fire seemed to die down, but shortly afterwards the
ventilator trap fell on to the table, leaving a cake of burning soot
exposed. This luckily did not fall, and we raked it down into buckets.
About a quarter of an hour afterwards all the chimney started blazing
again, the flames shooting up into the blizzard outside. We got this out
by pushing snow in at the top, and holding baths and buckets below to
catch the debris. We then did what we ought to have done at the beginning
of the winter--took the piping down and cleaned it all out.

Our last fire was a little business. Debenham and I were at Hut Point. I
noticed that the place was full of smoke, which was quite usual with a
blubber fire, but afterwards we found that the old hut was alight between
the two roofs. The inner roof was too shaky to allow one to walk on it,
and so, at Debenham's suggestion, we bent a tube which was lying about
and syphoned some water up with complete success. Our more usual fire
extinguishers were Minimax, and they left nothing to be desired: indeed,
all they left were the acid stains on the material touched.

From such grim considerations it is a pleasure to turn to the out-of-door
life we now led. Emperor penguins began to visit us in companies up to
forty in number: probably they were birds whose maternal or paternal
instincts had been thwarted at Cape Crozier and had now taken to a
vagrant life. They suffered, I am afraid, from the loose dogs, and on one
occasion Debenham was out on the sea-ice with a team of those dogs of
ours which were useless for serious sledging. He had taken them in hand
and formed a team which was very creditable to him, if not to themselves.
On this occasion he had managed with great difficulty to restrain them
from joining a company of Emperors. The dogs were frantic, the Emperors
undisturbed. Unable to go himself, one dog called Little Ginger
unselfishly bit through the harness which restrained two of his
companions, and Debenham, helplessly holding the straining sledge, could
only witness the slaughter, which followed.

The first skua gull arrived on October 24, and we knew they would soon
breed on any level gravel or rock free from snow; and we should see the
Antarctic petrels again, and perhaps a rare snowy petrel; and the first
whales would be finding their way into McMurdo Sound. Also the Weddells,
the common coastal seals of the Antarctic, were now, in the beginning of
October, leaving the open water and lying out on the ice. They were
nearly all females, and getting ready to give birth to their young.

The Weddell seal is black on top, and splashed with silver in other
places. He measures up to 10 feet from nose to tail, eats fish, is
corpulent and hulking. He sometimes carries four inches of blubber. On
the ice he is one of the most sluggish of God's creatures, he sleeps
continually, digests huge meals, and grunts, gurgles, pipes, trills and
whistles in the most engaging way. In the sea he is transformed into one
of the most elastic and lithe of beasts, catching his fish and swallowing
them whole. As you stand over his blow-hole his head appears, and he
snorts at you with surprise but no fear, opening and shutting his
nostrils the while as he takes in a supply of fresh air. It is clear that
they travel for many miles beneath the ice, and I expect they find their
way from air-hole to air-hole by listening to the noise made by other
seals. Some of the air-holes are exit and entrance holes as well, and I
found at least one seal which appeared to have died owing to its opening
freezing up. They may be heard at times grinding these holes open with
their teeth (Ponting took some patient cinematographs showing the process
of sawing the openings to these wells) and their teeth are naturally much
worn by the time they become old. Wilson states that they are liable to
kidney trouble: their skin is often irritable, which may be due to the
drying salt from the sea; and I have seen one seal which was covered with
a suppurating rash. Their spleens are sometimes enormously enlarged when
they first come out of the sea on to the ice, which is interesting
because no one seems to know much about spleens. Speculation was caused
amongst us by the fact that some of these air-holes had as it were a
trap-door above them. One day I was on the ice-foot at Cape Evans at a
time when North Bay was frozen over with about an inch or more of ice. A
seal suddenly poked his nose up through this ice to get air, and when he
disappeared a slab which had been raised by his head fell back into this
trap position. Clearly this was the origin of the door.

Weddell seals and the Hut Point life are inextricably mixed up in my
recollections of October. Atkinson, Debenham, Dimitri and I went down to
Hut Point on the 12th, with the two dog-teams. We were to run two depots
out on to the Barrier, and Debenham, whose leg prevented his further
sledging, was to do geological work and a plane table survey. Those of us
who had borne the brunt of the travelling of the two previous sledge
seasons were sick of sledging. For my own part I confess I viewed the
whole proceedings with distaste, and I have no doubt the others did too;
but the job had to be done if possible, and there was no good in saying
we were sick of it. From beginning to end of this year men not only
laboured willingly, but put their hearts and souls into the work. To have
to do another three months' journey seemed bad enough, and to leave our
comfortable Winter Quarters three weeks before we started on that journey
was an additional irritation. We ran down in surface drift: it was thick
to the south, the wind bit our faces and hands; we could see nothing by
the time we got in, and the snow was falling heavily. The stable was full
of beastly snow, the hut was cold and cheerless, and there was no blubber
for the stove. And if we had only taken the ship and gone home when the
period for which we had joined was passed, we might have been in London
for the last six months!

But then the snow stopped, the wind went down, and the mountain tops
appeared in all their glorious beauty. We were in the middle of a perfect
summer afternoon, with a warm sun beating on the rocks as we walked round
to Pram Point. There were many seals here already, and it was clear that
the place would form a jolly nursery this year, for there must have been
a lot of movement on the Barrier and the sea-ice was seamed with pressure
ridges up to twenty feet in height. The hollows were buckled until the
sea water came up and formed frozen ponds which would thaw later into
lovely baths. Sheltered from the wind the children could chase their
ridiculous tails to their hearts' content: their mothers would lie and
sleep, awakening every now and then to scratch themselves with their long
finger-nails. Not quite yet, but they were not far away: Lappy, one of
our dogs who always looked more like a spaniel than anything else, heard
one under the ice and started to burrow down to him!

Nearly three weeks later I paid several more visits to this delightful
place. It was thick with seals, big seals and little seals, hairy seals
and woolly seals: every day added appreciably to the number of babies,
and to the baaings and bleatings which made the place sound like a great
sheepfold. In every case where I approached, the mothers opened their
mouths and bellowed at me to keep away, but they did not come for me
though I actually stroked one baby. Often when the mother bellowed the
little one would also open his mouth, producing just the ghost of a
bellow: not because he seemed afraid of us, but rather because he
thought it was the right thing to do: as indeed it probably was. One old
cow was marked with hoops all round her body, like an advertisement of
Michelin tyres: only the hoops were but an inch apart from one another,
and seemed to be formed by darker and longer bands of hair: probably
something to do with the summer moult. Two cows, which scrambled out of
the same hole one after the other, were fighting, the hinder one biting
the other savagely as she made an ungainly entrance. The first was not in
calf, the aggressor, however, was: this may have had something to do with
it. They were both much cut about and bleeding.

A seal is never so pretty as when he is a baby. With his grey woolly
coat, which he keeps for a fortnight, his comparatively long flippers and
tail, and his big dark eyes, he looks very clean and pussy-like. I
watched one running round and round after his tail, putting his flipper
under his head as a pillow, and scratching himself, seemingly as happy as
possible: yet it was pretty cold with some wind.

Little is known of the lighter side of a Weddell's life. It seems
probable that their courtship is a ponderous affair. About October 26
Atkinson found an embryo of about a fortnight old, which is an
interesting stage, and this was preserved with many others we found, but
all of them were too old to be of any real value. I think there is a good
deal of variation in the size of the calves at birth. There is certainly
much difference between the care of individual mothers, some of which are
most concerned when you approach, while others take little notice or lop
away from you, leaving their calf to look after itself, or to find
another mother. Sometimes they are none too careful not to roll or lie on
their calves.

One afternoon I drove a bull seal towards a cow with a calf. The cow went
for him bald-headed, with open mouth, bellowing and most disturbed. The
bull defended himself as best he might but absolutely refused to take the
offensive. The calf imitated his mother as best he could.

Meanwhile Atkinson and Dimitri took some mule-fodder and dog-biscuit to a
point twelve miles south of Corner Camp. They started on October 14 with
the two dog-teams and found a most terrible surface on the Barrier, the
sledges sometimes sinking as far as the 'fore-and-afters'; the minimum
temperatures the first two nights were -39 deg. and -25 deg.; strong blizzard at
Corner Camp; a lie-up for a day and a half, before they could push on in
wind and drift and lay the depot. The dogs ran back from Corner Camp to
Hut Point on October 19, a distance of thirty miles. Three miles from
Corner Camp three dogs of Atkinson's team fell into a crevasse, one of
them falling right down to the length of his harness. The rest of the
team, however, pulled on, and dragged the three dogs out as they went.
Atkinson lost his driving-stick, which was left standing in the snow and
served to mark a place to be avoided. Altogether a rather lucky escape:
two men out alone with two dog-teams are somewhat helpless in case of
emergency.

On October 25 Dimitri and I started to take a further depot out to Corner
Camp with the two dog-teams, pulling about 600 lbs. each. We found a much
better surface than that experienced by Atkinson; in places really smooth
and hard. "It is good to be out again in such weather, and it has been a
very pleasant day." The minimum was only -24 deg. that night, and we reached
Corner Camp on the afternoon of the next day, following the old tracks
where possible, and halting occasionally to hunt when we lost them. "Here
we made the depot and the dogs had a rest of 31/2 hours, and two biscuits.
It was quaint to see them waiting for more food, for they knew they had
not had their full whack."[287]

There was plenty of evidence that the Barrier had moved a long way during
the last year. It had buckled up the sea-ice at Pram Point; there were at
least three new and well-marked undulations before reaching Corner Camp;
and the camp itself had moved visibly, judged by the bearings and
sketches we possessed. I believe the annual movement had not been less
than half a mile.

Corner Camp is a well-known trap for blizzards on the line of their exit
at Cape Crozier, and it was clouding up, the barometer falling, and the
temperature rising rapidly. "So we decided to come back some way, and
have in the end come right back to the Biscuit Depot, since it looked
very threatening to the east. Here the temperature is lower (-15 deg.) and it
is clearing. Ross Island has been largely obscured, but the clouds are
opening on Terror. We had a very good run and the dogs pulled splendidly,
making light work of it: 29 miles for the day, half of it with loaded
sledges! Lappy's feet are bleeding a good bit, owing to the snow balling
in between his toes where the hair is unusually long. Bullet, who is fat
and did not pull, celebrated his arrival in camp by going for Bielchik
who had pulled splendidly all day! There is much mirage, and Observation
Hill and Castle Rock are reversed."[288] We reached Hut Point the next
day. Lappy's feet were still bad, and Dimitri wrapped him in his
windproof blouse and strapped him on to the sledge. All went well until
we got on to the sea-ice, when Lappy escaped and arrived an easy first.

Dog-driving is the devil! Before I started, my language would not have
shamed a Sunday School, and now--if it were not Sunday I would tell you
more about it. It takes all kinds to make a world and a dog-team. We had
aristocrats like Osman, and Bolsheviks like Krisravitza, and lunatics
like Hol-hol. The present-day employer of labour might stand amazed when
he saw a crowd of prospective workmen go mad with joy at the sight of
their driver approaching them with a harness in his hands. The most
ardent trade unionist might boil with rage at the sight of eleven or
thirteen huskies dragging a heavy load, including their idle master, over
the floe with every appearance of intense joy. But truth to tell there
were signs that they were getting rather sick of it, and within a few
days we were to learn that dogs can chuck their paws in as well as many
another. They had their king, of course: Osman was that. They combined
readily and with immense effect against any companion who did not pull
his weight, or against one who pulled too much. Dyk was unpopular among
them, for when the team of which he was a member was halted he
constantly whined and tugged at his harness in his eagerness to go on:
this did not allow the rest of the team to rest, and they were
justifiably resentful. Sometimes a team got a down upon a dog without our
being able to discover their doggy reason. In any case we had to watch
carefully to prevent them carrying out their intentions, their method of
punishment always being the same and ending, if unchecked, in what they
probably called justice, and we called murder.

I have referred to the crusts on the Barrier, where the snow lies in
layers with an air-space, perhaps a quarter of an inch, or more, between
them. These will subside as you pass over them, giving the inexperienced
polar traveller some nasty moments until he learns that they are not
crevasses. But the dogs thought they were rabbits, and pounced, time
after time. There was a little dog called Mukaka, who got dragged under
the sledge in one of the mad penguin rushes the dog-teams made when we
were landing stores from the Terra Nova: his back was hurt and afterwards
he died. "He is paired with a fat, lazy and very greedy black dog, Noogis
by name, and in every march this sprightly little Mukaka will once or
twice notice that Noogis is not pulling and will jump over the trace,
bite Noogis like a snap, and be back again in his own place before the
fat dog knows what has happened."[289]

Then there was Stareek (which is the Russian for old man, starouka being
old woman). "He is quite a ridiculous 'old man,' and quite the nicest,
quietest, cleverest old dog I have ever come across. He looks in face as
though he knew all the wickedness of all the world and all its cares, and
as if he were bored to death by them."[290] He was the leader of Wilson's
team on the Depot Journey, but decided that he was not going out again.
Thereafter when he thought there was no one looking he walked naturally;
but if he saw you looking at him he immediately had a frost-bitten paw,
limped painfully over the snow, and looked so pitiful that only brutes
like us could think of putting him to pull a sledge. We tried but he
refused to work, and his final victory was complete.

One more story: Dimitri is telling us how a "funny old Stareek" at Sydney
came and objected to his treatment of the dogs (which were more than half
wolves and would eat you without provocation). "He says to me, 'You not
whip'--I say, 'What ho!' He go and fetch Mr. Meares--he try put me in
choky. Then he go to Anton--give Anton cigarette and match--he say--'How
old that horse?' pointing to Hackenschmidt--Anton say, very young--he not
believe--he go try see Hackenschmidt's teeth--and old Starouka too--and
Hackenschmidt he draw back and he rush forward and bite old Stareek
twice, and he fall backwards over case--and ole woman pick him up. He
very white beard which went so--I not see him again."

FOOTNOTES:

[286] My own diary.

[287] My own diary.

[288] My own diary.

[289] Wilson's Journal, _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 616.

[290] Ibid.




CHAPTER XVI

THE SEARCH JOURNEY

From my own diary

Sleep after toyle, port after stormie seas,
Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.
SPENSER, _The Faerie Queen._


_October 28. Hut Point._ A beautiful day. We finished digging out the
stable for the mules this morning and brought in some blubber this
afternoon. The Bluff has its cap on, but otherwise the sky is nearly
clear: there is a little cumulus between White Island and the Bluff, the
first I have seen this year on the Barrier. It is most noticeable how
much snow has disappeared off the rocks and shingle here.

_October 29. Hut Point._ The mule party, under Wright, consisting of
Gran, Nelson, Crean, Hooper, Williamson, Keohane and Lashly, left Cape
Evans at 10.30 and arrived here at 5 P.M. after a good march in perfect
weather. They leave Debenham and Archer at the hut, and I am afraid it
will be dull work for them the next three months. Archer turned out early
and made some cakes which they have brought with them. They camped for
lunch seven miles from Cape Evans.

[Illustration: THE MULE PARTY LEAVES CAPE EVANS--October 29, 1912]

This is the start of the Search Journey. Everything which forethought can
do has been done, and to a point twelve miles south of Corner Camp the
mules will be travelling light owing to the depots which have been laid.
The barometer has been falling the last few days and is now low, while
the Bluff is overcast. Yet it does not look like blizzard to come. Two
Adelie penguins, the first, came to Cape Evans yesterday, and a skua was
seen there on the 24th: so summer is really here.

_October 30. Hut Point._ It is now 8 P.M., and the mules are just off,
looking very fit, keeping well together, and giving no trouble at the
start. Their leaders turned in this afternoon, and to-night begins the
new routine of night marching, just the same as last year. It did look
thick on the Barrier this afternoon, and it was quite a question whether
it was advisable for them to start. But it is rolling away now, being
apparently only fog, which is now disappearing before some wind, or
perhaps because the sun is losing its power. I think they will have a
good march.

_November 2_, 5 A.M. _Biscuit Depot._ Atkinson, Dimitri and I, with two
dog-teams, left Hut Point last night at 8.30. We have had a coldish
night's run, -21 deg. when we left after lunch, -17 deg. now. The surface was
very heavy for the dogs, there being a soft coating of snow over
everything since we last came this way, due no doubt to the foggy days we
have been having lately. The sledge-meter makes it nearly 16 miles.

The mule party has two days' start on us, and their programme is to do
twelve miles a day to One Ton Depot. Their tracks are fairly clear, but
there has been some drift from the east since they passed. We picked up
our cairns well. We are pretty wet, having been running nearly all the
way.

_November 3._ Early morning. 141/2 miles. We are here at Corner Camp, but
not without a struggle. We left the Biscuit Depot at 6.30 P.M. yesterday,
and it is now 4 A.M. The last six miles took us four hours, which is very
bad going for dogs, and we have all been running most of the way. The
surface was very bad, crusty and also soft: it was blowing with some low
drift, and overcast and snowing. We followed the drifted-up mule tracks
with difficulty and are lucky to have got so far. The temperature has
been a constant zero.

There is a note here from Wright about the mules, which left here last
night. They only saw two small crevasses on the way, but Khan Sahib got
into the tide-crack at the edge of the Barrier, and had to be hauled out
with a rope. The mules are going fast over the first part of the day, but
show a tendency to stop towards the end: they keep well together except
Khan Sahib, who is a slower mule than the others. It is now blowing with
some drift, but nothing bad, and beyond the Bluff it seems to be clear.
We are all pretty tired.

_November 4. Early morning._ Well! this has been a disappointing day, but
we must hope that all will turn out well. We turned out at 2 A.M.
yesterday and then it was clearing all round, a mild blizzard having been
blowing since we camped. We started at five in some wind and low drift.
It was good travelling weather, and except for the first three miles the
surface has been fair to good, and the last part very good. Yet the dogs
could not manage their load, which according to programme should go up a
further 150 lbs. each team here at Dimitri Depot. One of our dogs, Kusoi,
gave out, but we managed to get him along tied to the stern of the
sledge, because the team behind tried to get at him and he realized he
had better mend his ways. We camped for lunch when Tresor also was pretty
well done. We were then on a very good surface, but were often pushing
the sledge to get it along. The mule party were gone when we started
again, and probably did not see us. We came on to the depot, but we
cannot hope to get along far on bad surfaces if we cannot get along on
good ones. The note left by Wright states that their sledge-meter has
proved useless, and this leaves all three parties of us with only one,
which is not very reliable now.

So it has been decided that the dogs must return from 80 deg. 30', or 81 deg. at
the farthest, and instead of four mules, as was intended, going on from
there, five must go on instead. The dogs can therefore now leave behind
much of their own weights and take on the mules' weights instead. And
this is the part where the mules' weights are so heavy. Perhaps the new
scheme is the best, but it puts everything on the mules from 80 deg. 30': if
they will do it all is well: if they won't we have nothing to fall back
on.

_Midnight, November 4-5._ It has been blowing and drifting all day. We
turned out again at mid-day on the 4th, and re-made the depot with what
we were to leave owing to the new programme. This is all rather sad, but
it can't be helped. It was then blowing a summer blizzard, and we were
getting frost-bitten when we started, following the mule tracks. There
were plenty of cairns for us to pick up, and with the lighter loads and a
very good surface we came along much better. Lunching at eight miles we
arrived just as the mule party had finished their hoosh preparatory to
starting, and it has been decided that the mules are not to go on
to-night, but we will all start marching together to-morrow.

The news from this party is on the whole good, not the least good being
that the sledge-meter is working again, though not very reliably. They
are marching well, and at a great pace, except for Khan Sahib. Gulab,
however, is terribly chafed both by his collar and by his breast harness,
both of which have been tried. He has a great raw place where this fits
on one side, and is chafed, but not so badly, on the other side. Lal Khan
is pulling well, but is eating very little. Pyaree is doing very well,
but has some difficulty in lifting her leg when in soft snow. Abdullah
seems to be considered the best mule at present. On the whole good
hearing.

Wright's sleeping-bag is bad, letting in light through cracks in a good
many places. But he makes very little of it and does not seem to be
cold--saying it is good ventilation. The mule cloths, which have a rough
lining to their outside canvas, are collecting a lot of snow, and all the
mules are matted with cakes of snow. They are terrible rope-eaters,
cloth-eaters, anything to eat, though they are not hungry. And they have
even learnt to pull their picketing buckles undone, and go walking about
the camp. Indeed Nelson says that the only time when Khan Sahib does not
cast himself adrift is when he is ready to start on the march.

_November 6. Early morning._ We had a really good lie-in yesterday, and
after the hard slogging with the dogs during the last few days I for one
was very glad of it. We came on behind, and in sight of the mules this
last march, and the change in the dogs was wonderful. Where it had been a
job to urge them on over quite as good a surface yesterday, to-day for
some time we could not get off the sledge except for short runs: although
we had taken 312 lbs. weight off the mules and loaded it on to the dogs.

We had a most glorious night for marching, and it is now bright sunlight,
and the animals' fur is quite warm where the sun strikes it. We have just
had a bit of a fight over the dog-food, Vaida going for Dyk, and now the
others are somewhat excited, and there are constant growlings and
murmurings.

The camp makes more of a mark than last year, for the mules are dark
while the ponies were white or grey, and the cloths are brown instead of
light green. The consequence is that the camp shows up from a long
distance off. We are building cairns at regular distances, and there
should be no difficulty in keeping on the course in fair weather at any
rate. Now in the land of big sastrugi: Erebus is beginning to look small,
but we could see an unusually big smoke from the crater all day.

_November 7. Early morning._ Not an easy day. It was -9 deg. and overcast
when we turned out, and the wind was then dying down, but it had been
blowing up to force 5, with surface drift during the day. We started in a
bad light and the surface, which was the usual hard surface common here,
with big sastrugi, was covered by a thin layer of crystals which were
then falling. This naturally made it very much harder pulling: we with
the dogs have been running nearly all the twelve miles, and I for one am
tired. At lunch Atkinson thought he saw a tent away to our right,--the
very thought of it came as a shock,--but it proved to be a false alarm.
We have been keeping a sharp look-out for the gear which was left about
this part by the Last Return Party, but have seen no sign of it.

It is now -14 deg., but the sun is shining brightly in a clear sky, and it
feels beautifully warm. It seems a very regular thing for the sky to
cloud over as the sun gets low towards nightfall--and directly the sun
begins to rise again the clouds disappear in a most wonderful way.

_November 8. Early morning._ Last night's twelve miles was quite cold for
the time of year, being -23 deg. at lunch and now -18 deg.. But it is calm, with
bright sun, and this temperature feels warm. However, there are some
frost-bites as a result, both Nelson and Hooper having swollen faces. The
same powder and crystals have been on the surface, but we have carried
the good Bluff surface so far, being now four miles beyond Bluff Depot.
This is fortunate, and to the best of my recollection we were already
getting on to a soft surface at this point last summer. If so there must
have been more wind here this year than last, which, according to the
winter we have had, seems probable.

We made up the Bluff Depot after lunch, putting up a new flag and
building up the cairn, leaving two cases of dog-biscuit for the returning
dog-teams. It is curious that the drift to leeward of the cairn, that is
N.N.E., was quite soft, the snow all round and the drifts on either side
being hard--exceptionally hard in fact. Why this drift should remain soft
when a drift in the same place is usually hard is difficult to explain.
All is happy in the mule camp. They have given Lal a drink of water and
he has started to eat, which is good news. Some of the mules seem
snow-blind, and they are now all wearing their blinkers. I have just
heard that Gran swung the thermometer at four this morning and found it
-29 deg.. Nelson's face is a sight--his nose a mere swollen lump,
frost-bitten cheeks, and his goggles have frosted him where the rims
touched his face. Poor Marie!

_November 9. Early morning._ Twelve more miles to the good, and we must
consider ourselves fortunate in still carrying on the same good surface,
which is almost if not quite as good as that of yesterday. This is the
only time I have ever seen a hard surface here, not more than fifteen
miles from One Ton, and it looks as if there had been much higher winds.
The sastrugi, which have been facing S.W., are now beginning to run a
little more westerly. I believe this to be quite a different wind
circulation from Ross Island, which as a whole gets its wind from the
Bluff. The Bluff is, I believe, the dividing line, though big general
blizzards sweep over the whole, irrespective of local areas of
circulation. This was amply corroborated by our journey out here last
autumn. Well, this is better than then--just round here we had a full
blizzard and -33 deg..

_November 10. Early morning._ A perfect night for marching, but about
-20 deg. and chilly for waiting about. The mules are going well, but Lal Khan
is thinning down a lot: Abdullah and Khan Sahib are also off their feed.
Their original allowance of 11 lbs. oats and oilcake has been reduced to
9 lbs., and they are not eating this. The dogs took another 300 lbs. off
them to-day, and pulled it very well. The surface has been splendidly
hard, which is most surprising. Wright does not think that there has been
an abnormal deposition of snow the last winter; he says it is about 11/2
feet, which is much the same as last year. The mules are generally not
sinking in more than two inches, but in places, especially latterly, they
have been in five, or six. This is the first we have had this year of
crusts, and some of them to-day have been exceptionally big: two at lunch
must have lasted several seconds. The dogs seem to think the devil is
after them when one of these goes off, and put on a terrific spurt. It is
interesting to watch them snuffing in the hoof-marks of the mules, where
there is evidently some scent left. In these temperatures they are always
kicking their legs about at the halts. As the sun gained power this
morning a thick fog came up very suddenly. I believe this is a sign of
good weather.

[Illustration: THE DOG PARTY LEAVES HUT POINT--November 1, 1912]

_November 11. Early morning. One Ton Depot._ Wright got a latitude sight
yesterday putting us six miles from One Ton, and our sledge-meter shows
53/4, and here we are. More frost-bite this morning, and it was pretty cold
starting in a fair wind and -7 deg. temperature. We have continued this
really splendid surface, and now the sastrugi are pointing a little more
to the south of S.W. While there are not such big mounds, the surface
does not yet show any signs of getting bad. There were the most beautiful
cloud-effects as we came along--a deep black to the west, shading into
long lines of grey and lemon yellow round the sun, with a vertical shaft
through them, and a bright orange horizon. Now there is a brilliant
parhelion. Given sun, two days here are never alike. Whatever the
monotony of the Barrier may be, there is endless variety in the sky, and
I do not believe that anywhere in the world such beautiful colours are to
be seen.

I had a fair panic as we came up to the depot. I did not see that one
body of the ponies had gone ahead of the others and camped, but ahead of
the travelling ponies was the depot, looking very black, and I thought
that there was a tent. It would be too terrible to find that, though one
knew that we had done all that we could, if we had done something
different we could have saved them.

And then we find that the provisions we left here for them in the tank
are soaked with paraffin. How this has happened is a mystery, but I think
that the oil in the XS tin, which was very full, must have forced its way
out in a sudden rise of temperature in a winter blizzard, and though the
tin was not touching the tank, it has found its way in.

Altogether things seemed rather dismal, but a visit to the mules is
cheering, for they seem very fit as a whole and their leaders are
cheerful. There are three sacks of oats here--had we known it would have
saved a lot of weight--but we didn't, and we have plenty with what we