and an English gentleman. We all hope to meet the end with a similar
spirit, and assuredly the end is not far.

"I can only write at lunch and then only occasionally. The cold is
intense, -40 deg. at mid-day. My companions are unendingly cheerful, but we
are all on the verge of serious frost-bites, and though we constantly
talk of fetching through I don't think any one of us believes it in his
heart.

"We are cold on the march now, and at all times except meals. Yesterday
we had to lay up for a blizzard and to-day we move dreadfully slowly. We
are at No. 14 Pony Camp, only two pony marches from One Ton Depot. We
leave here our theodolite, a camera, and Oates' sleeping-bags. Diaries,
etc., and geological specimens carried at Wilson's special request, will
be found with us or on our sledge."

"_Sunday, March 18._ To-day, lunch, we are 21 miles from the depot. Ill
fortune presses, but better may come. We have had more wind and drift
from ahead yesterday; had to stop marching; wind N.W., force 4, temp.
-35 deg.. No human being could face it, and we are worn out _nearly_.

"My right foot has gone, nearly all the toes--two days ago I was proud
possessor of best feet.... Bowers takes first place in condition, but
there is not much to choose after all. The others are still confident of
getting through--or pretend to be--I don't know! We have the last _half_
fill of oil in our primus and a very small quantity of spirit--this alone
between us and thirst. The wind is fair for the moment, and that is
perhaps a fact to help. The mileage would have seemed ridiculously small
on our outward journey."

"_Monday, March 19. Lunch._ We camped with difficulty last night and were
dreadfully cold till after our supper of cold pemmican and biscuit and a
half pannikin of cocoa cooked over the spirit. Then, contrary to
expectation, we got warm and all slept well. To-day we started in the
usual dragging manner. Sledge dreadfully heavy. We are 151/2 miles from the
depot and ought to get there in three days. What progress! We have two
days' food but barely a day's fuel. All our feet are getting
bad--Wilson's best, my right foot worse, left all right. There is no
chance to nurse one's feet till we can get hot food into us. Amputation
is the least I can hope for now, but will the trouble spread? That is the
serious question. The weather doesn't give us a chance--the wind from N.
to N.W. and -40 deg. temp, to-day."

"_Wednesday, March 21._ Got within 11 miles of depot Monday night; had to
lay up all yesterday in severe blizzard. To-day forlorn hope, Wilson and
Bowers going to depot for fuel."

"_22 and 23._ Blizzard bad as ever--Wilson and Bowers unable to
start--to-morrow last chance--no fuel and only one or two of food
left--must be near the end. Have decided it shall be natural--we shall
march for the depot with or without our effects and die in our tracks."

"_Thursday, March 29._ Since the 21st we have had a continuous gale from
W.S.W. and S.W. We had fuel to make two cups of tea apiece and bare food
for two days on the 20th. Every day we have been ready to start for our
depot _11 miles_ away, but outside the door of the tent it remains a
scene of whirling drift. I do not think we can hope for any better things
now. We shall stick it out to the end, but we are getting weaker, of
course, and the end cannot be far.

"It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more.

R. SCOTT."

_Last entry._ "For God's sake, look after our people."


The following extracts are from letters written by Scott:


_To Mrs. E. A. Wilson_

MY DEAR MRS. WILSON. If this letter reaches you, Bill and I will have
gone out together. We are very near it now and I should like you to know
how splendid he was at the end--everlastingly cheerful and ready to
sacrifice himself for others, never a word of blame to me for leading him
into this mess. He is not suffering, luckily, at least only minor
discomforts.

His eyes have a comfortable blue look of hope and his mind is peaceful
with the satisfaction of his faith in regarding himself as part of the
great scheme of the Almighty. I can do no more to comfort you than to
tell you that he died as he lived, a brave, true man--the best of
comrades and staunchest of friends.

My whole heart goes out to you in pity. Yours,

R. SCOTT.


_To Mrs. Bowers_

MY DEAR MRS. BOWERS. I am afraid this will reach you after one of the
heaviest blows of your life.

I write when we are very near the end of our journey, and I am finishing
it in company with two gallant, noble gentlemen. One of these is your
son. He had come to be one of my closest and soundest friends, and I
appreciate his wonderful upright nature, his ability and energy. As the
troubles have thickened his dauntless spirit ever shone brighter and he
has remained cheerful, hopeful and indomitable to the end....


_To Sir J. M. Barrie_

MY DEAR BARRIE. We are pegging out in a very comfortless spot. Hoping
this letter may be found and sent to you, I write a word of farewell ...
Good-bye. I am not at all afraid of the end, but sad to miss many a
humble pleasure which I had planned for the future on our long marches. I
may not have proved a great explorer, but we have done the greatest march
ever made and come very near to great success. Good-bye, my dear friend.
Yours ever,

R. SCOTT.

We are in a desperate state, feet frozen, etc. No fuel and a long way
from food, but it would do your heart good to be in our tent, to hear our
songs and the cheery conversation as to what we will do when we get to
Hut Point.

_Later._ We are very near the end, but have not and will not lose our
good cheer. We have four days of storm in our tent and nowhere's food or
fuel. We did intend to finish ourselves when things proved like this, but
we have decided to die naturally in the track.[347]

The following extracts are from letters written to other friends:

" ... I want to tell you that I was _not_ too old for this job. It was
the younger men that went under first.... After all we are setting a good
example to our countrymen, if not by getting into a tight place, by
facing it like men when we were there. We could have come through had we
neglected the sick."

"Wilson, the best fellow that ever stepped, has sacrificed himself again
and again to the sick men of the party...."

" ... Our journey has been the biggest on record, and nothing but the
most exceptional hard luck at the end would have caused us to fail to
return."

"What lots and lots I could tell you of this journey. How much better has
it been than lounging in too great comfort at home."

*       *       *       *       *

MESSAGE TO THE PUBLIC

The causes of the disaster are not due to faulty organization, but to
misfortune in all risks which had to be undertaken.

1. The loss of pony transport in March 1911 obliged me to start later
than I had intended, and obliged the limits of stuff transported to be
narrowed.

2. The weather throughout the outward journey, and especially the long
gale in 83 deg. S., stopped us.

3. The soft snow in lower reaches of glacier again reduced pace.

We fought these untoward events with a will and conquered, but it cut
into our provision reserve.

Every detail of our food supplies, clothing and depots made on the
interior ice-sheet and over that long stretch of 700 miles to the Pole
and back, worked out to perfection. The advance party would have returned
to the glacier in fine form and with surplus of food, but for the
astonishing failure of the man whom we had least expected to fail. Edgar
Evans was thought the strongest man of the party.

The Beardmore Glacier is not difficult in fine weather, but on our return
we did not get a single completely fine day; this with a sick companion
enormously increased our anxieties.

As I have said elsewhere, we got into frightfully rough ice and Edgar
Evans received a concussion of the brain--he died a natural death, but
left us a shaken party with the season unduly advanced.

But all the facts above enumerated were as nothing to the surprise which
awaited us on the Barrier. I maintain that our arrangements for returning
were quite adequate, and that no one in the world would have expected the
temperatures and surfaces which we encountered at this time of the year.
On the summit in lat. 85 deg.-86 deg. we had -20 deg., -30 deg.. On the Barrier in lat.
82 deg., 10,000 feet lower, we had -30 deg. in the day, -47 deg. at night pretty
regularly, with continuous head-wind during our day marches. It is clear
that these circumstances come on very suddenly, and our wreck is
certainly due to this sudden advent of severe weather, which does not
seem to have any satisfactory cause. I do not think human beings ever
came through such a month as we have come through, and we should have got
through in spite of the weather but for the sickening of a second
companion, Captain Oates, and a shortage of fuel in our depots for which
I cannot account, and finally, but for the storm which has fallen on us
within 11 miles of the depot at which we hoped to secure our final
supplies. Surely misfortune could scarcely have exceeded this last blow.
We arrived within 11 miles of our old One Ton Camp with fuel for one last
meal and food for two days. For four days we have been unable to leave
the tent--the gale howling about us. We are weak, writing is difficult,
but for my own sake I do not regret this journey, which has shown that
Englishmen can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as
great a fortitude as ever in the past. We took risks, we knew we took
them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for
complaint, but bow to the will of Providence, determined still to do our
best to the last. But if we have been willing to give our lives to this
enterprise, which is for the honour of our country, I appeal to our
countrymen to see that those who depend on us are properly cared for.

Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood,
endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the
heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must
tell the tale, but surely, surely a great rich country like ours will see
that those who are dependent on us are properly provided for.--R.
SCOTT.[348]

[Illustration: THE POLAR JOURNEY--Apsley Cherry-Garrard, del. Emery
Walker Ltd., Collotypers.]

FOOTNOTES:

[341] Wilson.

[342] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 575-576.

[343] Ibid. p. 577.

[344] Wilson.

[345] See note at end of Chapter XIV.

[346] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 582, 583.

[347] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 584-599.

[348] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. pp. 605-607.




CHAPTER XIX

NEVER AGAIN

And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing. O my onely light,
It cannot be
That I am he
On whom thy tempests fell all night.
HERBERT.


I shall inevitably be asked for a word of mature judgment of the
expedition of a kind that was impossible when we were all close up to it,
and when I was a subaltern of 24, not incapable of judging my elders, but
too young to have found out whether my judgment was worth anything. I now
see very plainly that though we achieved a first-rate tragedy, which will
never be forgotten just because it was a tragedy, tragedy was not our
business. In the broad perspective opened up by ten years' distance, I
see not one journey to the Pole, but two, in startling contrast one to
another. On the one hand, Amundsen going straight there, getting there
first, and returning without the loss of a single man, and without having
put any greater strain on himself and his men than was all in the day's
work of polar exploration. Nothing more business-like could be imagined.
On the other hand, our expedition, running appalling risks, performing
prodigies of superhuman endurance, achieving immortal renown,
commemorated in august cathedral sermons and by public statues, yet
reaching the Pole only to find our terrible journey superfluous, and
leaving our best men dead on the ice. To ignore such a contrast would be
ridiculous: to write a book without accounting for it a waste of time.

First let me do full justice to Amundsen. I have not attempted to
disguise how we felt towards him when, after leading us to believe that
he had equipped the Fram for an Arctic journey, and sailed for the north,
he suddenly made his dash for the south. Nothing makes a more unpleasant
impression than a feint. But when Scott reached the Pole only to find
that Amundsen had been there a month before him, his distress was not
that of a schoolboy who has lost a race. I have described what it had
cost Scott and his four companions to get to the Pole, and what they had
still to suffer in returning until death stopped them. Much of that risk
and racking toil had been undertaken that men might learn what the world
is like at the spot where the sun does not decline in the heavens, where
a man loses his orbit and turns like a joint on a spit, and where his
face, however he turns, is always to the North. The moment Scott saw the
Norwegian tent he knew that he had nothing to tell that was not already
known. His achievement was a mere precaution against Amundsen perishing
on his way back; and that risk was no greater than his own. The Polar
Journey was literally laid waste: that was the shock that staggered them.
Well might Bowers be glad to see the last of Norskies' tracks as their
homeward paths diverged.

All this heartsickness has passed away now; and the future explorer will
not concern himself with it. He will ask, what was the secret of
Amundsen's slick success? What is the moral of our troubles and losses? I
will take Amundsen's success first. Undoubtedly the very remarkable
qualities of the man himself had a good deal to do with it. There is a
sort of sagacity that constitutes the specific genius of the explorer;
and Amundsen proved his possession of this by his guess that there was
terra firma in the Bay of Whales as solid as on Ross Island. Then there
is the quality of big leadership which is shown by daring to take a big
chance. Amundsen took a very big one indeed when he turned from the route
to the Pole explored and ascertained by Scott and Shackleton and
determined to find a second pass over the mountains from the Barrier to
the plateau. As it happened, he succeeded, and established his route as
the best way to the Pole until a better is discovered. But he might
easily have failed and perished in the attempt; and the combination of
reasoning and daring that nerved him to make it can hardly be overrated.
All these things helped him. Yet any rather conservative whaling captain
might have refused to make Scott's experiment with motor transport,
ponies and man-hauling, and stuck to the dogs; and to the use of ski in
running those dogs; and it was this quite commonplace choice that sent
Amundsen so gaily to the Pole and back: with no abnormal strain on men or
dogs, and no great hardship either. He never pulled a mile from start to
finish.

The very ease of the exploit makes it impossible to infer from it that
Amundsen's expedition was more highly endowed in personal qualities than
ours. We did not suffer from too little brains or daring: we may have
suffered from too much. We were primarily a great scientific expedition,
with the Pole as our bait for public support, though it was not more
important than any other acre of the plateau. We followed in the steps of
a polar expedition which brought back more results than any of its
forerunners: Scott's Discovery voyage. We had the largest and most
efficient scientific staff that ever left England. We were discursive. We
were full of intellectual interests and curiosities of all kinds. We took
on the work of two or three expeditions.

It is obvious that there are disadvantages in such a division of energy.
Scott wanted to reach the Pole: a dangerous and laborious exploit, but a
practicable one. Wilson wanted to obtain the egg of the Emperor penguin:
a horribly dangerous and inhumanly exhausting feat which is none the less
impracticable because the three men who achieved it survived by a
miracle. These two feats had to be piled one on top of the other. What
with the Depot Journey and others, in addition to these two, we were
sledged out by the end of our second sledging season, and our worst year
was still to come. We, the survivors, went in search of the dead when
there was a possibly living party waiting in the ice somewhere for us to
succour them. That turned out all right, because when we got back, we
found Campbell's party self-extricated and waiting for us, alive and
well. But suppose they also had perished, what would have been said of
us?

The practical man of the world has plenty of criticism of the way things
were done. He says dogs should have been taken; but he does not show how
they could have been got up and down the Beardmore. He is scandalized
because 30 lbs. of geological specimens were deliberately added to the
weight of the sledge that was dragging the life out of the men who had to
haul it; but he does not realize that it is the friction surfaces of the
snow on the runners which mattered and not the dead weight, which in this
case was almost negligible. Nor does he know that these same specimens
dated a continent and may elucidate the whole history of plant life. He
will admit that we were all very wonderful, very heroic, very beautiful
and devoted: that our exploits gave a glamour to our expedition that
Amundsen's cannot claim; but he has no patience with us, and declares
that Amundsen was perfectly right in refusing to allow science to use up
the forces of his men, or to interfere for a moment with his single
business of getting to the Pole and back again. No doubt he was; but we
were not out for a single business: we were out for everything we could
add to the world's store of knowledge about the Antarctic.

Of course the whole business simply bristles with "ifs": If Scott had
taken dogs and succeeded in getting them up the Beardmore: if we had not
lost those ponies on the Depot Journey: if the dogs had not been taken so
far and the One Ton Depot had been laid: if a pony and some extra oil had
been depoted on the Barrier: if a four-man party had been taken to the
Pole: if I had disobeyed my instructions and gone on from One Ton,
killing dogs as necessary: or even if I had just gone on a few miles and
left some food and fuel under a flag upon a cairn: if they had been first
at the Pole: if it had been any other season but that.... But always the
bare fact remains that Scott could not have travelled from McMurdo Sound
to the Pole faster than he did except with dogs; all the king's horses
and all the king's men could not have done it. Why, then, says the
practical man, did we go to McMurdo Sound instead of to the Bay of
Whales? Because we gained that continuity of scientific observation which
is so important in this work: and because the Sound was the
starting-point for continuing the exploration of the only ascertained
route to the Pole, via the Beardmore Glacier.

I am afraid it was all inevitable: we were as wise as any one can be
before the event. I admit that we, scrupulously economical of our
pemmican, were terribly prodigal of our man-power. But we had to be: the
draft, whatever it may have been on the whole, was not excessive at any
given point; and anyhow we just had to use every man to take every
opportunity. There is so much to do, and the opportunities for doing it
are so rare. Generally speaking, I don't see how we could have done
differently, but I don't want to see it done again; I don't want it to be
necessary to do it again. I want to see this country tackle the job, and
send enough men to do one thing at a time. They do it in Canada: why not
in England too?

But we wasted our man-power in one way which could have been avoided. I
have described how every emergency was met by calling for volunteers, and
how the volunteers were always forthcoming. Unfortunately volunteering
was relied on not only for emergencies, but for a good deal of everyday
work that should have been organised as routine; and the inevitable
result was that the willing horses were overworked. It was a point of
honour not to ca' canny. Men were allowed to do too much, and were told
afterwards that they had done too much; and that is not discipline. They
should not have been allowed to do too much. Until our last year we never
insisted on a regular routine.

Money was scarce: probably Scott could not have obtained the funds for
the expedition if its objective had not been the Pole. There was no lack
of the things which could be bought across the counter from big business
houses--all landing, sledging, and scientific equipment was
first-class--but one of the first and most important items, the ship,
would have sent Columbus on strike, and nearly sent us to the bottom of
the sea.

People talk of the niggardly equipment of Columbus when he sailed west
from the Canaries to try a short-cut to an inhabited continent of
magnificent empires, as he thought; but his three ships were, relatively
to the resources of that time, much better than the one old tramp in
which we sailed for a desert of ice in which the evening and morning are
the year and not the day, and in which not even polar bears and reindeers
can live. Amundsen had the Fram, built for polar exploration _ad hoc_.
Scott had the Discovery. But when one thinks of these Nimrods and Terra
Novas, picked up second-hand in the wooden-ship market, and faked up for
the transport of ponies, dogs, motors, and all the impedimenta of a polar
expedition, to say nothing of the men who have to try and do scientific
work inside them, one feels disposed to clamour for a Polar Factory Act
making it a crime to ship men for the ice in vessels more fit to ply
between London Bridge and Ramsgate.

And then the begging that is necessary to obtain even this equipment.
Shackleton hanging round the doors of rich men! Scott writing begging
letters for months together! Is the country not ashamed?

Modern civilized States should make up their minds to the endowment of
research, which includes exploration; and as all States benefit alike by
the scientific side of it there is plenty of scope for international
arrangement, especially in a region where the mere grabbing of territory
is meaningless, and no Foreign Office can trace the frontier between King
Edward's Plateau and King Haakon's. The Antarctic continent is still
mostly unexplored; but enough is known of it to put any settlement by
ordinary pioneer emigration, pilgrim fathers and the like, out of the
question. Ross Island is not a place for a settlement: it is a place for
an elaborately equipped scientific station, with a staff in residence
for a year at a time. Our stay of three years was far too much: another
year would have driven the best of us mad. Of the five main journeys
which fell to my lot, one, the Winter Journey, should not have been
undertaken at all with our equipment; and two others, the Dog Journey and
the Search Journey, had better have been done by fresh men. It is no use
repeating that Englishmen will respond to every call and stick it to the
death: they will (some of them); but they have to pay the price all the
same; and the price in my case was an overdraft on my vital capital which
I shall never quite pay off, and in the case of five bigger, stronger,
more seasoned men, death. The establishment of such stations and of such
a service cannot be done by individual heroes and enthusiasts cadging for
cheques from rich men and grants from private scientific societies: it is
a business, like the Nares Arctic expedition, for public organization.

I do not suppose that in these days of aviation the next visit to the
Pole will be made by men on foot dragging sledges, or by men on sledges
dragged by dogs, mules or ponies; nor will depots be laid in that way.
The pack will not, I hope, be broken through by any old coal-burning ship
that can be picked up in the second-hand market. Specially built ships,
and enough of them; specially engined tractors and aeroplanes; specially
trained men and plenty of them, will all be needed if the work is to be
done in any sort of humane and civilized fashion; and Cabinet ministers
and voters alike must learn to value knowledge that is not baited by
suffering and death. My own bolt is shot; I do not suppose I shall ever
go south again before I go west; but if I do it will be under proper and
reasonable conditions. I may not come back a hero; but I shall come back
none the worse; for I repeat, the Antarctic, in moderation as to length
of stay, and with such accommodation as is now easily within the means of
modern civilized Powers, is not half as bad a place for public service as
the worst military stations on the equator. I hope that by the time Scott
comes home--for he is coming home: the Barrier is moving, and not a trace
of our funeral cairn was found by Shackleton's men in 1916--the
hardships that wasted his life will be only a horror of the past, and his
_via dolorosa_ a highway as practicable as Piccadilly.

And now let me come down to tin tacks. No matter how well the thing is
done in future, its organizers will want to know at first all we can tell
them about oil, about cold, and about food. First, as to oil.

Scott complains of a shortage of oil at several of his last depots. There
is no doubt that this shortage was due to the perishing of the leather
washers of the tins which contained the paraffin oil. All these tins had
been subjected to the warmth of the sun in summer and the autumn
temperatures, which were unexpectedly cold. In his Voyage of the
Discovery Scott wrote as follows of the tins in which they drew their oil
when sledging: "Each tin had a small cork bung, which was a decided
weakness; paraffin _creeps_ in the most annoying manner, and a good deal
of oil was wasted in this way, especially when the sledges were
travelling over rough ground and were shaken or, as frequently happened,
capsized. It was impossible to make these bungs quite tight, however
closely they were jammed down, so that in spite of a trifling extra
weight a much better fitting would have been a metallic screwed bung. To
find on opening a fresh tin of oil that it was only three-parts full was
very distressing, and of course meant that the cooker had to be used with
still greater care."[349] Amundsen wrote of his paraffin: "We kept it in
the usual cans but they proved too weak; not that we lost any paraffin,
but Bjaaland had to be constantly soldering to keep them tight."[350]

Our own tins were furnished with the metallic screwed stoppers which
Scott recommended. There was no trouble reported[351] until we came up to
One Ton Camp when on the Search Journey. Here was the depot of food and
oil which I had laid in the previous autumn for the Polar Party, stowed
in a canvas 'tank' which was buried beneath seven feet of snow; the oil
was placed on the top of the snow, in order that the red tins might prove
an additional mark for the depot. When we dug out the tank the food
inside was almost uneatable owing to the quantity of paraffin which had
found its way down through seven feet of snow during the winter and
spring.

We then found the Polar Party and learned of the shortage of oil. After
our return to Cape Evans some one was digging about the camp and came
across a wooden case containing eight one-gallon tins of paraffin. These
had been placed there in September 1911, to be landed at Cape Crozier by
the Terra Nova when she came down. The ship could not take them: they
were snowed up during the winter, lost and forgotten, until dug up
fifteen months afterwards. Three tins were full, three empty, one a third
full and one two-thirds full.

There can be no doubt that the oil, which was specially volatile, tended
to vaporize and escape through the stoppers, and that this process was
accelerated by the perishing, and I suggest also the hardening and
shrinking, of the leather washers. Another expedition will have to be
very careful on this point: they might reduce the risk by burying the
oil.

The second point about which something must be said is the unexpected
cold met by Scott on the Barrier, which was the immediate cause of the
disaster. "No one in the world would have expected the temperatures and
surfaces which we encountered at this time of the year.... It is clear
that these circumstances come on very suddenly, and our wreck is
certainly due to this sudden advent of severe weather, which does not
seem to have any satisfactory cause."[352]

They came down the glacier in plus temperatures: nor was there anything
abnormal for more than a week after they got on to the Barrier. Then
there came a big drop to a -37 deg. minimum on the night of February 26. It
is significant that the sun began to dip below the southern horizon at
midnight about this time. "There is no doubt the middle of the Barrier is
a pretty awful locality," wrote Scott.

Simpson, in his meteorological report, has little doubt that the
temperatures met by the Polar Party were abnormal. The records "clearly
bring to light the possibility of great cold at an extremely early period
in the year within a comparatively few miles of an open sea where the
temperatures were over 40 degrees higher." "It is quite impossible to
believe that normally there is a difference of nearly 40 degrees in March
between McMurdo Sound and the South of the Barrier." The temperatures
recorded by other sledge parties in March 1912 and those recorded at Cape
Evans form additional evidence, in Simpson's opinion, that the
temperatures experienced by Scott were not such as might be expected
during normal autumn weather.

Simpson's explanation is based upon the observations made in McMurdo
Sound by sending up balloons with self-recording instruments attached.
These showed that very rapid radiation takes place from the snow surface
in winter, which cools the air in the immediate neighbourhood: a cold
layer of air is thus formed near the ground, which may be many degrees
colder than the air above it. It becomes, as it were, colder than it
ought to be. This, however, can only happen during an absence of wind:
when a wind blows the cold layer is swept away, the air is mixed and the
temperature rises.

The absence of wind from the south noted by Scott was, in Simpson's
opinion, the cause of the low temperatures met by Scott: the temperature
was reduced ten degrees below normal at Cape Evans, and perhaps twenty
degrees where Scott was.[353]

The third question is that of food. It is this point which is most
important to future explorers. It is a fact that the Polar Party failed
to make their distance because they became weak, and that they became
weak although they were eating their full ration or more than their full
ration of food, save for a few days when they went short on the way down
the Beardmore Glacier. The first man to weaken was the biggest and
heaviest man in the expedition: "the man whom we had least expected to
fail."

The rations were of two kinds. The Barrier (B) ration was that which was
used on the Barrier during the outward journey towards the Pole. The
Summit (S) ration was the result of our experiments on the Winter
Journey. I expect it is the best ration which has been used to date, and
consisted of biscuits 16, pemmican 12, butter 2, cocoa 0.57, sugar 3 and
tea 0.86 ounces; total 34.43 ounces daily per man.

The twelve men who went forward started this S ration at the foot of the
Beardmore, and it was this ration which was left in all depots to see
them home. It was much more satisfying than the Barrier ration, and men
could not have eaten so much when leading ponies or driving dogs in the
early stages of summer Barrier sledging: but man-hauling is a different
business altogether from leading ponies or driving dogs.

It is calculated that the body requires certain proportions of fat,
carbohydrates and proteins to do certain work under certain conditions:
but just what the absolute quantities are is not ascertained. The work of
the Polar Party was laborious: the temperatures (the most important of
the conditions) varied from comparative warmth up and down the glacier to
an average of about -20 deg. in the rarefied air of the plateau. The
temperatures met by them on their return over the Barrier were not really
low for more than a week, and then there came quite commonly minus
thirties during the day with a further drop to minus forties at night,
when for a time the sun was below the horizon. These temperatures, which
are not very terrible to men who are fresh and whose clothing is new,
were ghastly to these men who had striven night and day almost
ceaselessly for four months on, as I maintain, insufficient food. Did
these temperatures kill them?

Undoubtedly the low temperatures caused their death, inasmuch as they
would have lived had the temperatures remained high. But Evans would not
have lived: he died before the low temperatures occurred. What killed
Evans? And why did the other men weaken as they did, though they were
eating full rations and more? Weaken so much that in the end they starved
to death?

I have always had a doubt whether the weather conditions were sufficient
to cause the tragedy. These men on full rations were supposed to be
eating food of sufficient value to enable them to do the work they were
doing, under the conditions which they actually met until the end of
February, without loss of strength. They had more than their full
rations, but the conditions in March were much worse than they imagined
to be possible: when three survivors out of the five pitched their Last
Camp they were in a terrible state. After the war I found that Atkinson
had come to wonder much as I, but he had gone farther, for he had the
values of our rations worked out by a chemical expert according to the
latest knowledge and standards. I may add that, being in command after
Scott's death, he increased the ration for the next year's sledging, so I
suppose he had already come to the conclusion that the previous ration
was not sufficient. The following are some of the data for which I am
indebted to him: the whole subject will be investigated by him and the
results published in a more detailed form.

According to the most modern standards the food requirements for
laborious work at a temperature of zero Fahr. (which is a fair Barrier
average temperature to take) are 7714 calories to produce 10,069
foot-tons of work. The actual Barrier ration which we used would generate
4003 calories, equivalent to 5331 foot-tons of work. Similar requirements
for laborious work at -10 deg. Fahr. (which is a high average plateau
temperature) are 8500 calories to produce 11,094 foot-tons of work. The
actual Summit ration would generate 4889 calories, equivalent to 6608
foot-tons of work. These requirements are calculated for total absorption
of all food-stuffs: but in practice, by visual proof, this does not take
place: this is especially noticeable in the case of fats, a quantity of
which were digested neither by men, ponies, nor dogs.

Several things go to prove that our ration was not enough. In the first
case we were probably not as fit as we seemed after long sledge journeys.
There is no doubt that when sledging men developed an automaticity of
certain muscles at the expense of other muscles: for instance, a sledge
could be hauled all day at the expense of the arms, and we had little
power to lift weights at the end of several months of sledging. In
relation to this I would add that, when the relief ship arrived in
February 1912, four of us were at Cape Evans, but just arrived from three
months of the Polar Journey. The land party, we four among them, were
turned on to sledge stores ashore. This in practice meant twenty miles
every day dragging a sledge; a good deal of 'humping' heavy cases, from
five o'clock in the morning to very late at night; with uncertain meals
and no rests. I can remember now how hard that work was to myself and, I
expect, to those others who had been away sledging. The ship's party
sledged only every other day "because they were not used to it." This was
extremely bad organization, and in view of the possibility that some of
the men might be required for further sledging in the autumn, just silly.

Again, there is the experience of the man-hauling parties of the Polar
Journey. There was, you may remember, a man-hauling party on the way to
the Beardmore Glacier. They travelled with a light sledge but they lost
weight on the Barrier ration. It is significant that they picked up
condition when they started the Summit ration, especially Lashly.

The Polar Party and the two returning parties, who were on the Summit
ration from the foot of the Beardmore until the end of their journeys,
weakened, in Atkinson's opinion, more than they should have done had
their ration been sufficient. The First Return Party covered
approximately 1100 statute miles. At the end of their journey their
pulling muscles were all right, but Atkinson, who led the party,
considers that they were at least 70 per cent weaker in other muscles.
They all lost a great deal of weight, though they had the best conditions
of the three returning parties, and the temperatures met by them averaged
well over zero.

The Second Return Party faced much worse conditions. They were only three
men, and one of the three was so sick that for 120 miles he could not
pull and for 90 miles he had to be dragged on the sledge. The average
temperature approximated zero. They were extremely exhausted.

Scott makes constant reference to the increasing hunger of the Polar
Party: it is clear that the food did not compensate for the conditions
which were met in increasing severity. Yet they were eating rather more
than their full ration a considerable part of the time. It has to be
considered that the temperatures met by them averaged far below -10 deg.:
that they did not absorb all their food: that increased heat was wanted
not only for energy to do extra work caused by bad surfaces and contrary
winds, but also to heat their bodies, and to thaw out their clothing and
sleeping-bags.

I believe it to be clear that the rations used by us must not only be
increased by future expeditions, but co-ordinated in different
proportions of fats, proteins and carbohydrates. Taking into
consideration the fact that our bodies were not digesting the amount of
fats we had provided, Atkinson suggests that it is useless to increase
the fats at the expense of the protein and carbohydrates. He recommends
that fats should total about 5 ounces daily. The digestion of
carbohydrates is easy and complete, and though that of protein is more
complicated there are plenty of the necessary digestive ferments. The
ration should be increased by equal amounts of protein and carbohydrates;
both should be provided in as dry and pure a form as possible.