have brought, so they will be of little use to us. There is no compressed
fodder, which would have been very useful, for the animals which are
refusing the oats would probably eat it.

Gulab has a very bad chafe, but he is otherwise fit--and it does not seem
possible in this life to kill a mule because of chafing. It is a great
deal to know that he does not seem to be hurt by it, and pulls away
gallantly. Crean says he had to run a mile this morning with Rani. Marie
says he is inventing some new ways of walking, one step forward and one
hop back, in order to keep warm when leading Khan Sahib. Up to date we
cannot say that the Fates have been unkind to us.

_November 12. Early morning. Lunch_ 2.30 A.M. I am afraid our
sledge-meters do not agree over this morning's march. The programme is to
do thirteen miles a day if possible from here: that is 71/2 before lunch
and 51/2 afterwards. We could see two cairns of last year on our right as
we came along. We have got on to a softer surface now and there is bad
news of Lal Khan, and it will depend on this after-lunch march whether he
must be shot this evening or not. It was intended to shoot a mule two
marches from One Ton, but till just lately it had not been thought that
it must be Lal Khan. He is getting very slow, and came into camp with
Khan Sahib: the trouble of course is that he will not eat: he has hardly
eaten, they say, a day's ration since he left Hut Point, and he can't
work on nothing. It is now -16 deg., with a slight southerly wind.

_Nearly mid-day. 11-12 miles south of One Ton._ We have found them--to
say it has been a ghastly day cannot express it--it is too bad for words.
The tent was there, about half-a-mile to the west of our course, and
close to a drifted-up cairn of last year. It was covered with snow and
looked just like a cairn, only an extra gathering of snow showing where
the ventilator was, and so we found the door.

It was drifted up some 2-3 feet to windward. Just by the side two pairs
of ski sticks, or the topmost half of them, appeared over the snow, and a
bamboo which proved to be the mast of the sledge.

Their story I am not going to try and put down. They got to this point on
March 21, and on the 29th all was over.

Nor will I try and put down what there was in that tent. Scott lay in the
centre, Bill on his left, with his head towards the door, and Birdie on
his right, lying with his feet towards the door.

Bill especially had died very quietly with his hands folded over his
chest. Birdie also quietly.

Oates' death was a very fine one. We go on to-morrow to try and find his
body. He was glad that his regiment would be proud of him.

They reached the Pole a month after Amundsen.

We have everything--records, diaries, etc. They have among other things
several rolls of photographs, a meteorological log kept up to March 13,
and, considering all things, a great many geological specimens. _And they
have stuck to everything._ It is magnificent that men in such case should
go on pulling everything that they have died to gain. I think they
realized their coming end a long time before. By Scott's head was
tobacco: there is also a bag of tea.

Atkinson gathered every one together and read to them the account of
Oates' death given in Scott's Diary: Scott expressly states that he
wished it known. His (Scott's) last words are:

"For God's sake take care of our people."

Then Atkinson read the lesson from the Burial Service from Corinthians.
Perhaps it has never been read in a more magnificent cathedral and under
more impressive circumstances--for it is a grave which kings must envy.
Then some prayers from the Burial Service: and there with the floor-cloth
under them and the tent above we buried them in their sleeping-bags--and
surely their work has not been in vain.[291]

That scene can never leave my memory. We with the dogs had seen Wright
turn away from the course by himself and the mule party swerve
right-handed ahead of us. He had seen what he thought was a cairn, and
then something looking black by its side. A vague kind of wonder
gradually gave way to a real alarm. We came up to them all halted. Wright
came across to us. 'It is the tent.' I do not know how he knew. Just a
waste of snow: to our right the remains of one of last year's cairns, a
mere mound: and then three feet of bamboo sticking quite alone out of the
snow: and then another mound, of snow, perhaps a trifle more pointed. We
walked up to it. I do not think we quite realized--not for very long--but
some one reached up to a projection of snow, and brushed it away. The
green flap of the ventilator of the tent appeared, and we knew that the
door was below.

Two of us entered, through the funnel of the outer tent, and through the
bamboos on which was stretched the lining of the inner tent. There was
some snow--not much--between the two linings. But inside we could see
nothing--the snow had drifted out the light. There was nothing to do but
to dig the tent out. Soon we could see the outlines. There were three men
here.

Bowers and Wilson were sleeping in their bags. Scott had thrown back the
flaps of his bag at the end. His left hand was stretched over Wilson, his
lifelong friend. Beneath the head of his bag, between the bag and the
floor-cloth, was the green wallet in which he carried his diary. The
brown books of diary were inside: and on the floor-cloth were some
letters.

Everything was tidy. The tent had been pitched as well as ever, with the
door facing down the sastrugi, the bamboos with a good spread, the tent
itself taut and shipshape. There was no snow inside the inner lining.
There were some loose pannikins from the cooker, the ordinary tent gear,
the personal belongings and a few more letters and records--personal and
scientific. Near Scott was a lamp formed from a tin and some lamp wick
off a finnesko. It had been used to burn the little methylated spirit
which remained. I think that Scott had used it to help him to write up to
the end. I feel sure that he had died last--and once I had thought that
he would not go so far as some of the others. We never realized how
strong that man was, mentally and physically, until now.

We sorted out the gear, records, papers, diaries, spare clothing,
letters, chronometers, finnesko, socks, a flag. There was even a book
which I had lent Bill for the journey--and he had brought it back.
Somehow we learnt that Amundsen had been to the Pole, and that they too
had been to the Pole, and both items of news seemed to be of no
importance whatever. There was a letter there from Amundsen to King
Haakon. There were the personal chatty little notes we had left for them
on the Beardmore--how much more important to us than all the royal
letters in the world.

We dug down the bamboo which had brought us to this place. It led to the
sledge, many feet down, and had been rigged there as a mast. And on the
sledge were some more odds and ends--a piece of paper from the biscuit
box: Bowers' meteorological log: and the geological specimens, thirty
pounds of them, all of the first importance. Drifted over also were the
harnesses, ski and ski-sticks.

Hour after hour, so it seemed to me, Atkinson sat in our tent and read.
The finder was to read the diary and then it was to be brought
home--these were Scott's instructions written on the cover. But Atkinson
said he was only going to read sufficient to know what had happened--and
after that they were brought home unopened and unread. When he had the
outline we all gathered together and he read to us the Message to the
Public, and the account of Oates' death, which Scott had expressly wished
to be known.

We never moved them. We took the bamboos of the tent away, and the tent
itself covered them. And over them we built the cairn.

I do not know how long we were there, but when all was finished, and the
chapter of Corinthians had been read, it was midnight of some day. The
sun was dipping low above the Pole, the Barrier was almost in shadow. And
the sky was blazing--sheets and sheets of iridescent clouds. The cairn
and Cross stood dark against a glory of burnished gold.

*       *       *       *       *

_Copy of Note left at the Cairn, over the Bodies_

_November 12th, 1912._
Lat. 79 deg. 50' S.

This Cross and Cairn are erected over the bodies of Capt. Scott,
C.V.O., R.N.; Dr. E. A. Wilson, M.B., B.A. Cantab.; Lt. H. R.
Bowers, Royal Indian Marines. A slight token to perpetuate their
gallant and successful attempt to reach the Pole. This they did
on the 17th January 1912 after the Norwegian expedition had
already done so. Inclement weather and lack of fuel was the cause
of their death.

Also to commemorate their two gallant comrades, Capt. L. E. G.
Oates of the Inniskilling Dragoons, who walked to his death in a
blizzard to save his comrades, about 18 miles south of this
position; also of Seaman Edgar Evans, who died at the foot of the
Beardmore Glacier.

The Lord gave and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of
the Lord.

Relief Expedition.
(Signed by all members of the party.)

My diary goes on:

_Midnight, November 12-13._ I cannot think that anything which could be
done to give these three great men--for great they were--a fitting grave
has been left undone.

A great cairn has been built over them, a mark which must last for many
years. That we can make anything that will be permanent on this Barrier
is impossible, but as far as a lasting mark can be made it has been done.
On this a cross has been fixed, made out of ski. On either side are the
two sledges, fixed upright and dug in.

The whole is very simple and most impressive.

On a bamboo standing by itself is left the record which I have copied
into this book, and which has been signed by us all.

We shall leave some provisions here, and go on lightly laden to see if we
can find Titus Oates' body: and so give it what burial we can.

We start in about an hour, and I for one shall be glad to leave this
place.

I am very very sorry that this question of the shortage of oil has
arisen. We in the First Return Party were most careful with our
measurement--having a ruler of Wright's and a piece of bamboo with which
we did it: measuring the total height of oil in each case, and then
dividing up the stick accordingly with the ruler: and we were _always_
careful to take _a little less than we were entitled to_, which was
stated to me, and stated by Birdie in his depot notes, to be one-third of
everything in the depot.

How the shortage arose is a mystery. And they eleven miles from One Ton
and plenty!

Titus did not show his foot till about three days before he died. The
foot was then a great size, and almost every night it would be
frost-bitten again. Then the last day at lunch he said he could go on no
more--but they said he must: he wanted them to leave him behind in his
bag. That night he turned in, hoping never to wake: but he woke, and then
he asked their advice: they said they must all go on together. A thick
blizzard was blowing, and he said, after a bit, "Well, I am just going
outside, and I may be some time." They searched for him but could not
find him.

They had a terrible time from 80 deg. 30' on to their last camp. There Bill
was very bad, and Birdie and the Owner had to do the camping.

And then, eleven miles from plenty, they had _nine days of blizzard, and
that was the end._

They had a good spread on their tent, and their ski-sticks were standing,
but their ski were drifted up on the ground.

The tent was in excellent condition--only down some of the poles there
were some chafes.

They had been trying a spirit lamp when all the oil was gone.

At 88 deg. or so they were getting temperatures from -20 deg. to -30 deg.. At 82 deg.,
10,000 feet lower, it was regularly down to -47 deg. in the night-time, and
-30 deg. during the day: for no explainable reason.

Bill's and Birdie's feet got bad--the Owner's feet got bad last.

It is all too horrible--I am almost afraid to go to sleep now.

_November 13. Early morning._ We came on just under seven miles with a
very cold moist wind hurting our faces all the way. We have left most of
the provisions to pick up again. We purpose going on thirteen miles
to-morrow and search for Oates' body, and then turn back and get the
provisions back to Hut Point and see what can be done over in the west to
get up that coast.

We hope to get two mules back to Hut Point. If possible, we want to
communicate with Cape Evans.

Atkinson has been quite splendid in this very trying time.

_November 14. Early morning._ It has been a miserable march. We had to
wait some time after hoosh to let the mules get ahead. Then we went on in
a cold raw fog and some head wind, with constant frost-bites. The surface
has been very bad all day for the thirteen miles: if we had been walking
in arrowroot it would have been much like this was. At lunch the
temperature was -14.7 deg..

Then on when it was drifting with the wind in our faces and in a bad
light. What we took to be the mule party ahead proved to be the old pony
walls 26 miles from One Ton. There was here a bit of sacking on the
cairn, and Oates' bag. Inside the bag was the theodolite, and his
finnesko and socks. One of the finnesko was slit down the front as far as
the leather beckets, evidently to get his bad foot into it. This was
fifteen miles from the last camp, and I suppose they had brought on his
bag for three or four miles in case they might find him still alive.
Half-a-mile from our last camp there was a very large and quite
unmistakable undulation, one-quarter to one-third of a mile from crest to
crest: the pony walls behind us disappeared almost as soon as we started
to go down, and reappeared again on the other side. There were, I feel
sure, other rolls, but this was the largest. We have seen no sign of
Oates' body.

About half an hour ago it started to blow a blizzard, and it is now
thick, but the wind is not strong. The mules, which came along well
considering the surface, are off their feed, and this may be the reason.

Dimitri saw the Cairn with the Cross more than eight miles away this
morning, and in a good light it would be seen from much farther off.

_November 15. Early morning._ We built a cairn to mark the spot near
which Oates walked out to his death, and we placed a cross on it. Lashed
to the cross is a record, as follows:

Hereabouts died a very gallant gentleman, Captain L. E. G. Oates
of the Inniskilling Dragoons. In March 1912, returning from the
Pole, he walked willingly to his death in a blizzard to try and
save his comrades, beset by hardship. This note is left by the
Relief Expedition. 1912.

This was signed by Atkinson and myself.

We saw the cairn for a long way in a bad light as we came back to-day.

The original plan with which we started from Cape Evans was, if the Party
was found where we could still bear out sufficiently to the eastward to
have a good chance of missing the pressure caused by the Beardmore, to go
on and do what we could to survey the land south of the Beardmore: for
this was the original plan of Captain Scott for this year's sledging. But
as things are I do not think there can be much doubt that we are doing
right in losing no time in going over to the west of McMurdo Sound to see
whether we can go up to Evans Coves, and help Campbell and his party.

We brought on Oates' bag. The theodolite was inside.

A thickish blizzard blew all day yesterday, but it was clear and there
was only surface drift when we turned out for the night march. Then again
as we came along, the sky became overcast--all except over the land,
which remains clear these nights when everything else is obscured. We
noticed the same thing last year. Now the wind, which had largely
dropped, has started again and it is drifting. We have had wind and drift
on four out of the last five days.

_November 16. Early morning._ When we were ready to start with the dogs
it was blowing a thick blizzard, but the mules had already started some
time, when it was not thick. We had to wait until nearly 4 A.M. before we
could start, and came along following tracks. It is very warm and the
surface is covered with loose snow, but the slide in it seems good. We
found the mules here at the Cairn and Cross, having been able to find
their way partly by the old tracks.

I have been trying to draw the grave. Of all the fine monuments in the
world none seems to me more fitting; and it is also most impressive.

_November 17. Early morning._ I think we are all going crazy together--at
any rate things are pretty difficult. The latest scheme is to try and
find a way over the plateau to Evans Coves, trying to strike the top of a
glacier and go down it. There can be no good in it: if ever men did it,
they would arrive about the time the ship arrived there too, and their
labour would be in vain. If they got there and the ship did not arrive,
there is another party stranded. They would have to wait till February 15
or 20 to see if the ship was coming, and then there would be no
travelling back over the plateau: even if we could do it those men there
could not.

It was almost oppressively hot yesterday--but I'll never grumble about
heat again. It has now cleared a lot and we came along on the cairns
easily--but on a very soft downy surface, and the travelling has not been
fast. We bring with us the Southern Party's gear. The sledge, which was
the 10-foot which they brought on from the bottom of the glacier, has
been left.

_November 18. Early morning._ I am thankful to say that the plateau
journey idea has been given up.

Once more we have come along in thick, snowy weather. If we had not men
on ski to steer we could never keep much of a course, but Wright is
steering us very straight, keeping a check on the course by watching the
man behind, and so far we have been picking up all the cairns. This
morning we passed the pony walls made on November 10. And yet they were
nearly level with the ground; so they are not much of a mark. Yank has
just had a disagreement with Kusoi--for Kusoi objected to his trying to
get at the meat on the sledge. The mules have been sinking in a long way,
and are marching very slowly. Pyaree eats the tea-leaves after meals:
Rani and Abdullah divide a rope between them at the halts; and they have
eaten the best part of a trace since our last camp. These animals eat
anything but their proper food, and this some of them will hardly touch.

It cleared a bit for our second march, and we have done our 13 miles, but
it was very slow travelling. Now it is drifting as much as ever. Yank,
that redoubtable puller, has just eaten himself loose for the third time
since hoosh. This time I had to go down to the pony walls to get him.

We have had onions for the first time to-night in our hoosh--they are
most excellent. Also we have been having some Nestle's condensed milk
from One Ton Depot--which I do not want to see again, the depot I mean.
Peary must know what he is about, taking milk as a ration: the sweetness
is a great thing, but it would be heavy: we have been having it with
temperature down to -14 deg., when it was quite manageable, but I don't know
what it would be like in colder temperatures.

_November 19. Early morning._ We have done our 13 miles to-day and have
got on to a much better surface. By what we and others have seen before,
it seems that last winter must have generally been an exceptional one.
There have been many parties out here: we have never before seen this
wind-swept surface, on which it is often too slippery to walk
comfortably. I do not know what temperatures the Discovery had in April,
but it was much colder last April than it was the year before. And then
nothing had been experienced down here to compare with the winds last
winter.

There was a high wind and a lot of drift yesterday during the day, and
now it is blowing and drifting as usual. During the last nine days there
has only been one, the day we found the tent, when it has not been
drifting during all or part of the day. It is all right for travelling
north, but we should be having very uncomfortable marches if we were
marching the other way.

_November 20. Early morning._ To-day we have seemed to be walking in
circles through space. Wright, by dint of having a man behind to give him
a fixed point to steer upon, has steered us quite straight, and we have
picked up every cairn. The pony party camped for lunch by two cairns, but
they never knew the two cairns were there until a piece of paper blew
away and had to be fetched: and it was caught against one of the cairns.
They left a flag there to guide us, and though we saw and brought along
the flag, we never saw the cairns. The temperature is -22.5 deg., and it is
now blowing a full blizzard. All this snow has hitherto been lying on the
ground and making a very soft surface, for though the wind has always
been blowing it has never been very strong. This snow and wind, which
have now persisted for nine out of the last ten days, make most
dispiriting marches; for there is nothing to see, and finding tracks or
steering is a constant strain. We are certainly lucky to have been able
to march as we have.

_Note on Mules._--The most ardent admirer of mules could not say that
they were a success. The question is whether they might be made so. There
was really only one thing against them but that is a very important
one--they would not eat on the Barrier. From the time they went away to
the day they returned (those that did return, poor things) they starved
themselves, and yet they pulled biggish loads for 30 days.

If they would have eaten they would have been a huge success. They
travelled faster than the ponies and, with one exception, kept together
better than the ponies. If both were eating their ration it is
questionable whether a good mule or a good pony is to be preferred. Our
mules were of the best, and they were beautifully trained and equipped by
the Indian Government: yet on November 13, a fortnight from the start,
Wright records, "mules are a poor substitute for ponies. Not many will
see Hut Point again, I think. Doubt if any would have got much farther
than this if surfaces had been as bad this year as last."[292]

Though they would not eat oats, compressed fodder and oil-cake, they were
quite willing to eat all kinds of other things. If we could have arrived
at the mule equivalent to a vegetarian diet they might have pulled to the
Beardmore without stopping. The nearest to this diet at which we could
arrive was saennegrass, tea-leaves, tobacco ash and rope--all of which
were eaten with gusto. But supplies were very limited. They ate
dog-biscuit as long as they thought we were not looking--but as soon as
they realized they were meant to eat it they went on hunger-strike again.
But during halts at cairns Rani and Pyaree would stand solemnly chewing
the same piece of rope from different ends. Abdullah always led the line,
and followed Wright's ski tracks faithfully, so that if another man was
ahead and Wright turned aside Abdullah always turned too. It was quite a
manoeuvre for Wright to read the sledge-meter at the back of the
sledge. As for Begum: "Got Begum out of a soft patch by rolling her
over."[293]

On the whole the mules failed to adapt themselves to this life, and as
such must at present be considered to be a failure for Antarctic work.
Certainly those of our ponies which had the best chance to adapt
themselves went farthest, such as Nobby and Jimmy Pigg, both of whom had
experience of Barrier sledging before they started on the Polar Journey.

_November 21. Early morning._ It has cleared at last, the disturbance
rolling away to the east during our first march. The surface was very bad
and the mules were not going well. At this time last year many of the
ponies were still quite difficult to make stand just before starting. But
these mules start off now most dolefully. I am afraid they will not all
get back to Hut Point.

Two and a half miles after lunch, i.e. just over forty miles from the
depot, we turned out to the eastward and found the gear left by the
Second Return Party, when Evans was so ill. The theodolite, which
belonged to Evans, is I believe there, but though we dug all round we
were unable to find it. The ski were all upright, drifted to within six
inches of the shoes. Most of the gear was clothing, which we have left,
with the skis, in the tank. We brought on a roll of Birdie's photographs,
taken on the plateau, and three geological specimens: deep-seated rocks I
think. This was all of importance that there was there.

The N Ration, which we have now come to, consists of about 40 oz. of
food. At present, doing the work we are doing, and with these high
temperatures, -23 deg. when we started, for instance, and -17 deg. now, the men
do not want it. For what it was intended for, hard man-hauling, it would
probably be an excellent ration, and very satisfying.

_November 22. Early morning._ We could not have had a more perfect night
to march. Yesterday at 4 P.M., holding the thermometer in the sun, the
spirit rose to 30 deg.: it was almost too warm in the tent. The cairns show
very plainly--in such weather navigation of this kind would be dead easy.
But they are already being eaten away and toppling. The pony walls are
drifted level--huge drifts, quite hard, running up to windward and down
to lee.

The dogs are getting more hungry, and want to get at the mules, which
makes them go better. They went very well to-day, but too fast once, for
we had a general mix-up: Bieliglass under the sledge and the rest all
tangled up and ready for a fight at the first chance. How one of the
front pair of dogs got under the sledge is a mystery.

Among the Polar Party's gear is a letter to the King of Norway. It was
left by the Norwegians for Scott to take back. It is wrapped in a piece
of thin windcloth with one dark check line in it. Coarser and rougher
and, I should say, heavier than our Mandelbergs.

_November 23. Early morning._ We were to make Dimitri Depot this morning,
but we came on in a fog, and the mule party camped after running down the
distance. Wright came back and said, "If we have passed it, it's over
there"--and as he pointed the depot showed--not more than 200 yards away.
So that is all right. We, the dog party, go on in advance to-morrow, so
that no time may be lost, and if the ice is still good, Atkinson will get
over to Cape Evans.

[Illustration: 'ATCH']

[Illustration: TITUS OATES]

_November 24. Early morning._ A glut of foot-walloping in soft snow and
breaking crusts. We have done between 17 and 18 miles to-day. We saw no
crevasses, and have marked the course well, building up the cairns and
leaving two flags--so the mule party should be all right. The dogs were
going well behind the ponies, but directly we went ahead they seemed to
lose heart. I think they are tired of the Barrier: a cairn now awakens
little interest: they know it is only a mark and it does not mean a
camp: they are all well fed, and fairly fat and in good condition. With a
large number of dogs I suppose one team can go ahead when it is going
well--changing places with another--each keeping the others going. But I
do not think that these dogs now will do much more; but they have already
done as much as any dogs of which we have any record.

The land is clearing gradually. I have never seen such contrasts of black
rock and white snow, and White Island was capped with great ranges of
black cumulus, over which rose the pure white peaks of the Royal Society
Range in a blue sky. The Barrier itself was quite a deep grey, making a
beautiful picture. And now Observation Hill and Castle Rock are in front.
I don't suppose I shall ever see this view again: but it is associated
with many memories of returning to home and plenty after some long and
hard journeys: in some ways I feel sorry--but I have seen it often
enough.

_November 25. Early morning._ We came in 24 miles with our loads, to find
the best possible news--Campbell's Party, all well, are at Cape Evans.
They arrived here on November 6, starting from Evans Coves on September
30. What a relief it is, and how different things seem now! It is the
first real bit of good news since February last--it seems an age. We mean
to get over the sea-ice, if possible, as soon as we can, and then we
shall hear their story.

_November 26. Early morning._ Starting from Hut Point about 6.45 P.M.
last evening, we came through by about 9 P.M., and sat up talking and
hearing all the splendid news till past 2 A.M. this morning.

All the Northern Party look very fat and fit, and they are most cheerful
about the time they have had, and make light of all the anxious days they
must have spent and their hard times.

I cannot write all their story. When the ship was battling with the pack
to try and get in to them they had open water in Terra Nova Bay to the
horizon, as seen from 200 feet high. They prepared for the winter,
digging their hut into a big snowdrift a mile from where they were
landed. They thought that the ship had been wrecked--or that every one
had been taken off from here, and that then the ship had been blown north
by a succession of furious gales which they had and could not get back.
They never considered seriously the possibility of sledging down the
coast before the winter. They got settled in and were very warm--so warm
that in August they did away with one door, of which they had three, of
biscuit boxes and sacking.

Their stove was the bottom of an oil tin, and they cooked by dripping
blubber on to seal bones, which became soaked with the blubber, and
Campbell tells me they cooked almost as quickly as a primus. Of course
they were filthy. Their main difficulty was dysentery and ptomaine
poisoning.

Their stories of the winter are most amusing--of "Placing the Plug, or
Sports in the Antarctic"; of lectures; of how dirty they were; of their
books, of which they had four, including David Copperfield. They had a
spare tent, which was lucky, for the bamboos of one of theirs were blown
in during a big wind, and the men inside it crept along the piedmont on
hands and knees to the igloo and slept two in a bag. How the seal seemed
as if they would give out, and they were on half rations and very hungry:
and they were thinking they would have to come down in the winter, when
they got two seals: of the fish they got from the stomach of a seal--"the
best feed they had"--the blubber they have eaten.

But they were buried deep in the snow and quite warm. Big winds all the
time from the W.S.W., cold winds off the plateau--in the igloo they could
hear almost nothing outside--how they just had a biscuit a day at times,
sugar on Sundays, etc.

And so all is well in this direction, and we have done right in going
south, and we have at least succeeded in getting all records. I suppose
any news is better than no news.

_Evening._ The Pole Party photos of themselves at the Pole and at the
Norwegian cairn (a Norwegian tent, post and two flags) are very good
indeed--one film is unused, one used on these two subjects: taken with
Birdie's camera. All the party look fit and well, and their clothes are
not iced up. It was calm at the time: the surface looks rather soft.

Atkinson and Campbell have gone to Hut Point with one dog-team, and we
are all to forgather here. The ice still seems good from here to Hut
Point: all else open water as far as can be seen.

A steady southerly wind has been blowing here for three days now. The
mules should get into Hut Point to-day.

It is the happiest day for nearly a year--almost the only happy one.

FOOTNOTES:

[291] My own diary.

[292] Wright's diary.

[293] Wright's diary.




CHAPTER XVII

THE POLAR JOURNEY

DON JUAN. This creature Man, who in his own selfish affairs is a
coward to the backbone, will fight for an idea like a hero. He
may be abject as a citizen; but he is dangerous as a fanatic. He
can only be enslaved while he is spiritually weak enough to
listen to reason. I tell you, gentlemen, if you can show a man a
piece of what he now calls God's work to do, and what he will
later on call by many new names, you can make him entirely
reckless of the consequences to himself personally....

DON JUAN. Every idea for which Man will die will be a Catholic
idea. When the Spaniard learns at last that he is no better than
the Saracen, and his prophet no better than Mahomet, he will
arise, more Catholic than ever, and die on a barricade across the
filthy slum he starves in, for universal liberty and equality.

THE STATUE. Bosh!

DON JUAN. What you call bosh is the only thing men dare die for.
Later on, Liberty will not be Catholic enough: men will die for
human perfection, to which they will sacrifice all their liberty
gladly.

BERNARD SHAW, _Man and Superman._


V. THE POLE AND AFTER


_The Polar Party._               _Depots._

SCOTT                             One Ton [79 deg. 29'].
WILSON                            Upper Barrier or Mount Hooper [80 deg. 32'].
BOWERS                            Middle Barrier [81 deg. 35'].
OATES                             Lower Barrier [82 deg. 47'].
Seaman EVANS                      Shambles Camp [N. of Gateway].
Lower Glacier [S. of Gateway].
Middle Glacier [Cloudmaker].
Upper Glacier [Mt. Darwin].
Three Degree [86 deg. 56'].
11/2 Degree [88 deg. 29'].
Last Depot [89 deg. 32'].

Scott returned from the Discovery Expedition impressed by the value of
youth in polar work; but the five who went forward from 87 deg. 32' were all
grown men, chosen from a body which was largely recruited on a basis of
youth. Four of them were men who were accustomed to take responsibility
and to lead others. Four of them had wide sledging experience and were
accustomed to cold temperatures. They were none of them likely to get
flurried in emergency, to panic under any circumstances, or to wear
themselves out by loss of nervous control. Scott and Wilson were the most
highly strung of the party: I believe that the anxiety which Scott
suffered served as a stimulus against mental monotony rather than as a
drain upon his energy. Scott was 43, Wilson 39, Evans 37, Oates 32, and
Bowers 28 years old. Bowers was exceptionally old for his age.

In the event of one man crocking a five-man party may be better able to
cope with the situation, but with this doubtful exception Scott had
nothing to gain and a good deal to lose by taking an extra man to the
Pole. That he did so means, I think, that he considered his position a
very good one at this time. He was anxious to take as many men with him
as possible. I have an impression that he wanted the army represented as
well as the navy. Be that as it may, he took five men: he decided to take
the extra man at the last moment, and in doing so he added one more link
to a chain. But he was content; and four days after the Last Return Party
left them, as he lay out a blizzard, quite warm in his sleeping-bag
though the mid-day temperature was -20 deg., he wrote a long diary praising
his companions very highly indeed "so our five people are perhaps as
happily selected as it is possible to imagine."[294] He speaks of Seaman
Evans as being a giant worker with a really remarkable headpiece. There
is no mention of the party feeling the cold, though they were now at the
greatest height of their journey; the food satisfied them thoroughly.
There is no shadow of trouble here: only Evans has got a nasty cut on his
hand!