Scott's Last Expedition/Volume 2/Northern Party

Wednesday, January 25, 1911.—We said good-bye to Captain Scott and the Southern Depôt Party, and at 9 the following morning left Glacier Tongue for Butter Point, to land the Western Geological Party. A light southerly wind had cleared the loose ice out of the bay, and we had no difficulty in getting the ship alongside the ice foot, so that by 6 the same evening we had landed the party, laid out a depôt, and left on our cruise to the eastward, where I hoped to effect a landing, if not on King Edward's Land itself, at least in some inlet near the eastern end of the Barrier.

I had received the following instructions from Captain Scott, and they explain our subsequent movements:

'Directions as to the landing of your party are contained in the instructions to the Commanding Officer of the Terra Nova handed to you herewith.

​'Whilst I hope that you may be able to land in King Edward's Land, I fully realise the possibility of the conditions being unfavourable and the difficulty of the task which has been set you.

'I do not think you should attempt a landing unless the Ship can remain in security near you for at least three days, unless all your stores can be placed in a position of safety in a shorter time.

'The Ship will give you all possible help in erecting your hut, &c., but I hope you will not find it necessary to keep her by you for any length of time.

'Should you succeed in landing, the object you will hold in view is to discover the nature and extent of King Edward's Land. The possibilities of your situation are so various that it must be left to you entirely to determine how this object may best be achieved.

'In this connexion it remains only to say that you should be at your winter station and ready to embark on February 1, 1912.

'If the Ship should not arrive by February 15, and your circumstances permit, you should commence to retreat across the Barrier, keeping at first near the edge in order to see the Ship should she pass.

'It would be a wise precaution to lay out a depôt in this direction at an earlier date, and I trust that a further depôt will be provided in some inlet as you go east in the Ship.

'When I hear that you have been safely landed in King Edward's Land I shall take steps to ensure that a third depôt is laid out. This will be placed by the ​Western Party one mile from the Barrier Edge and thirty miles from Cape Crozier.

'You will of course travel light on such a journey, and remember that fresh food can be obtained at Cape Crozier. A sledge sail should help you.

'From Cape Crozier you should make for Hut Point, where shelter and food will be found pending the freezing over of the bays to the north.

'Should you be unable to land in the region of King Edward's Land you will be at liberty to go to the region of Robertson Bay after communicating with Cape Evans.

'I think it very possible that a suitable wintering spot may be found in the vicinity of Smith's Inlet, but the Ship must be handled with care as I have reason to believe that the pack sometimes presses on this coast.

'Should you be landed in or near Robertson Bay you will not expect to be relieved until March in the following year, but you should be in readiness to embark on February 25.

'The main object of your exploration in this region would naturally be the coast westward of Cape North.

'Should the Ship have not returned by March 25 it will be necessary for you to prepare for a second winter.

'In no case would it be advisable for you to attempt to retreat along the coast. Seals and penguins should be plentiful and possibly some useful stores may remain at Cape Adare, but the existence of stores should not be regarded as more than a possibility.

​'In conclusion I wish you all possible good luck, feeling assured that you will deserve it.

By 9 a.m. on the 27th we were off Cape Crozier and commenced our survey of the Barrier to see what changes had taken place since 1901.

About 9 a.m. on January 30 we passed an inlet opening N. by W., 1100 yards long, 250 wide, having perpendicular sides about 90 feet high.

This evening about seven we saw a large piece of the Barrier break off. We were at the time within 900 yards of the cliff, when we heard a noise like thunder and saw a cloud of spray rise up about half a mile ahead of us. The cloud of spray completely hid the Barrier at that place, and as this cleared we saw that a large piece had broken off, while débris of ice was forced out across our bows, making us alter course to avoid it.

January 31.—While steaming up a bay this afternoon another large piece of the Barrier broke away. It must have been five miles away, but we heard the noise like a peal of thunder and through our glasses saw a cloud of spray hanging over the place like a fog.

Soon after 3 p.m. we were up at the head of the bay, when we found new ice had formed. The Barrier here runs down nearly to the water's edge, and were it only farther to the eastward would not be a bad place to winter.

A number of Sibbald whales were blowing in the bay, and on the ice we saw several seals, and some Emperor ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/135 ​penguins. Time and coal were precious; so we did not wait, but turned, and steamed out of the bay.

On getting outside we found a strong S.E. wind, and as we had the current against us as well, we decided not to work along the Barrier, but to shape course direct for Cape Colbeck, in which case we could carry fore and aft sail. We encountered strong S.E. wind but no pack, until 3 o'clock on the morning of the 2nd, when we made heavy pack with a number of small bergs in it right ahead.

The sea was breaking heavily on the pack edge, so we altered course to the southward, and after a few hours' steaming against a nasty head sea we got round it. About eight o'clock the wind fell, and shortly afterwards we sighted what was apparently ice-covered land on the starboard bow—soundings gave 208 fathoms. The day was lovely, and we had a good view of the land, which proved to be Cape Colbeck, a long convex ice dome without a rock showing. Sextant angles made the summit 750 feet high, while the ice face averaged 100 feet. Some heavy pack and a large number of bergs were lying off the cliff, but working our way slowly through we found open water under the cliff. Our prospects were now bright; open water ahead and a perfect day. However, in the afternoon our hopes were blighted; about 10 miles east of Cape Colbeck we came on a line of solid unbroken pack, into which a number of bergs were frozen, stretching from the ice cliffs of King Edward's Land out to the N.W. as far as we could see from the crow's nest. We steamed up to the edge of the ice, stopped, and sounded, getting bottom at 169 fathoms.

​Several seals, one of which looked like a sea leopard, and some Adélie and Emperor penguins were on the ice, while large flocks of Antarctic petrels were flying about everywhere.

The ice cliffs, stretching as far as we could see, gave us no hope of finding a landing-place.

There is evidence of a great deal of pressure here and the upper edge of the cliff near us, 100 feet high, showed a pressure ridge, where evidently a large berg had been forced against it.

At 5.0 p.m. we reluctantly turned and retraced our steps, the only chance of a landing-place being Balloon Bight or some inlet at the east end of the Barrier. Soundings off Cape Colbeck gave us 89 fathoms. During the night we sailed as close as possible to the ice face but passed nothing but high cliffs. About 3 o'clock on the morning of the 3rd a strong S.E. wind sprang up, bringing a low mist, but not thick enough to prevent us keeping close to the coast. Soon after the cliff dipped a little and appeared on both bows, showing we were running into a bay; this was the place where I had had great hopes of effecting a landing, but we were unable to do so.

It was interesting to note that while the eastern side of the bay was clean cut, the western side was much weather-worn and honeycombed with caves, evidently worn by the strong westerly current which sweeps along the Barrier. We saw two narrow inlets opening N.E. but not wide enough to trust the ship in; moreover, as they open in this direction they are more liable to be blocked by any loose ice drifting in.

​In the afternoon the weather cleared and we were able to get sights, showing we were still to the eastward of Balloon Bight. By 9 a.m. we were off the place where Balloon Bight should have been, and our sights put us south of the old Barrier edge. There was no doubt about it; Balloon Bight had gone. By midnight we were off Shackleton's Bay of Whales. On rounding the eastern point our surprise can be imagined when we saw a ship, which I recognised as the Fram, made fast alongside the sea ice.

Standing in, we made fast a little way ahead of her and hoisted our colours, she answering with the Norwegian ensign. There was no doubt it was Captain Amundsen.

Pennell and I immediately went on board and saw Lieutenant Neilsen, who was in command. He told us Amundsen was up at the camp about three miles in, over the sea ice, but would be down about 9 o'clock, and accordingly soon after 9 I returned on board and saw Amundsen, who told me his plans. He had been here since January 4, after a good passage, having been held only four days in the pack. He had intended wintering at Balloon Bight, but on finding that had gone, had fixed on the Bay of Whales as the best place.

He asked me to come up and see his camp, so Pennell, Levick and I went up, and found he had erected his hut on the Barrier, about 3 miles from the coast. The camp presented a very workmanlike appearance, with a good-sized hut containing a kitchen and living-room with a double tier of bunks round the walls, while outside several tents were up and 116 fine Greenland dogs picketed round.

​His party, besides himself, consisted of Johansen, who was with Dr. Nansen in his famous sledge journey of '97, and seven others. After coffee and a walk round the camp Amundsen and two others returned with us and had lunch in the Terra Nova.

We left early in the afternoon, and after sounding and dredging in the bay, proceeded west along the Barrier, of which there still remained nearly 100 miles we had not seen.

Outside the bay we were unlucky enough to pick up a S.W. wind, but with clear weather we kept close along the Barrier edge to long. 170° W., where we had left it on our way east, without seeing any inlet or possible place to land. This was a great disappointment to us all, but there was nothing for it but to return to McMurdo Sound to communicate with the main party and then try and effect a landing in the vicinity of Smith's Inlet or as far to the westward as possible on the north coast of Victoria Land, and if possible to explore the unknown coast west of Cape North.

We therefore made the best of our way to Cape Evans, and in spite of a moderate S.W. gale arrived on the evening of the 8th.

Here I decided to land the two ponies, as they would be very little use to us on the mountainous coast of Victoria Land, and in view of the Norwegian expedition I felt the Southern Party would require all the transport available.

After landing the ponies we steamed up to the sea ice by Glacier Tongue, and from there, taking Priestley ​and Abbott, I went with letters to leave at Hut Point, where the Depôt Party would call on their way back. The surface was good and we got back to the ship about 3 a.m., and then proceeded to water ship at Glacier Tongue. While watering ship an accident occurred which might have been serious. The ship was secured alongside, and Abbott was just stepping ashore when a large piece of ice broke away with him on it and fell between the ship and the ice edge. Luckily he was not hurt, and was soon pulled on board again, none the worse, except for a ducking.

By 8 o'clock in the evening of the 9th we were all ready, and proceeded north with a fair S.E. wind, but thick snow.

During the afternoon of February 12th the wind freshened into a gale with heavy snow, and not wanting to close Cape Adare in such thick weather we hove to under main lower topsail with Cape Adare bearing N.W., distant 20 miles.

During the night the wind increased, and continued blowing a very heavy gale until the evening of the 15th. In spite of the very heavy sea the ship was fairly dry, but being so light we took a lot of ice water, washing away the bulwarks we had repaired since the previous gale.

The coal question was becoming serious; if this went on much longer it looked as if we should not be able to land, as Pennell had to keep enough coal to get back to New Zealand.

On the evening of the 15th the wind eased a little, and by 10 a.m. on the 16th we raised steam and shaped ​course for Cape Adare, which was now 110 miles to the S.W. It came on to blow hard again from the S.E. in the afternoon, but we were able nearly to lay our course under lower topsails; the snow squalls were very thick, but luckily not much ice was sighted. Late in the afternoon the weather cleared and we sighted the mountainous coast of Victoria Land. During the night we got among a lot of weathered bergs and loose pack, which had the effect of smoothing the sea.

At 4 a.m. on the 17th we were within about 2 miles of the coast just east of Smith's Inlet.

The land here was heavily glaciated, hardly a rock showing, except some high cliffs and the Lyall Islands to the westward.

Heavy pack lay to the west of us, so we had to work along to the eastward, where the sea was fairly clear of ice.

Some large floes lay close in under the cliffs, grinding up against them in the heavy swell that was running. I was very much disappointed at seeing no piedmont to work along on the western sledge journey. The cliffs were several hundred feet high except where the glaciers ran down, the front of these being from 50 to 180 feet high.

We worked along to the eastward, keeping as close as we could, and keeping a good lookout for a possible landing.

The scenery was magnificent. In the afternoon we entered Robertson Bay and found we had a strong tide with us, which was fortunate as the wind had freshened ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/144 ​again from the S.S.E. The scenery here was even wilder, the Admiralty Range towering over our heads and so steep that, except in the valleys, no snow or ice was able to lodge, and bare rock showed everywhere.

Large glaciers filled all the valleys, but the gradient was so steep that they were heavily crevassed from top to bottom.

By 5 o'clock we were off the Dugdale Glacier, which runs out in three long tongues, in places only 10 feet high.

It appeared to have altered considerably since Borchgrevink's time, as he charts only one long tongue. It was not a good place for wintering, the surface being crevassed and the sides too steep to be climbed; the ice tongue would have been a good place to lie alongside and land stores, but as some of this broke away and drifted out to sea a week later, it was as well we did not try.

After having a look at Duke of York Island we steamed up to the head of the bay, but with no better success. So about midnight we turned and made for Ridley Beach, a triangular beach on the west side of Cape Adare, the place where the Southern Cross Party wintered in 1900.

I was very much against wintering here, as until the ice forms in Robertson Bay one is quite cut off from any sledging operations on the mainland, for the cliffs of the peninsula descend sheer into the sea.

Pennell, however, had only just enough coal as it was to get back to New Zealand, so at 3 a.m. on the 18th we anchored off the south shore of the beach and commenced landing stores. A cold, wet job it was. A lot of loose ​ice round the shore and a surf made it difficult for the boats to get in; the water shoaled some way out, which meant wading backwards and forwards with the stores, while several times the boats broached to as they touched and half swamped. We worked from 3 a.m. till midnight, and started again at 4 a.m. on Sunday.

The way everyone behaved was splendid, Davies the carpenter in particular working at the hut for 48 hours on end. Communication with the ship was twice cut off by heavy pack setting into the bay.

By 4 a.m. Monday everything was landed, the ship party re-embarked, and the ship proceeded north, while we of the shore party, who were all dead tired, turned in for a few hours' sleep. One of Borchgrevink's huts was standing, but was half full of snow; the other one had no roof and had evidently been used as a nesting place by generations of penguins. After clearing out the snow of the former we had quite comfortable quarters while we built our own hut. With the exception of the 21st, when we had a mild blizzard, we had fine weather for building the hut, for which we were very thankful, as that, and carrying up all the stores, proved a long job for a small party. We used to start work every morning at 6, and knock off between 8 and 9 every evening, by which time we were pretty tired.

By an oversight only two hammers had been landed, so four unfortunates had to use Priestley's geological hammers. These are heavy, square-headed implements, designed to chip, and judging by our mangled fingers the man who made them knew his business. We had ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/148 ​rather a shock on Friday, when on examining the fifteen carcases of frozen mutton left by the ship we found them to be covered with green mould.

They must have been in this condition on board, as we buried them in the ice as soon as they were landed; anyhow we had to condemn them, to the great delight of the skua gulls; but penguins and seals are plentiful, so we shall not be short of fresh meat.

While at work on the Saturday we heard a loud report up at the head of the bay, and through our glasses we could see that a large piece of the Dugdale Glacier tongue had broken off.

By working late Saturday night we had the outside of the hut ready and the guys set up, so on Sunday we had a wash and change of clothes, church in the forenoon and a day off, which gave us an opportunity for a look round.

The view is magnificent: to the southward we see the Admiralty Range of mountains, with Mts. Sabine, Minto, and Adam rising to over 10,000 feet; away to the west the mountains are not so high, but completely snow-covered, and slope gradually down to Cape North; behind us are the black basalt cliffs of the Cape Adare Peninsula, and in one place there is quite an easy way to the top. When we landed we found Borchgrevink's hut inhabited by a solitary moulting penguin. He was very indignant at being turned out and stood all day at the door scolding us. He also did showman to the crowds of sightseers who came to watch us. I am afraid many of the sightseers got knocked on the head and put in the ice-house. It is brutal work, for they are such friendly little beasts, ​and take such an interest in us; but they and the seals are our only fresh meat.

Sunday, March 5.—We have put in a good week's work, thanks to fine weather. The hut was ready and we moved in last night, and celebrated the occasion with a great house-warming. We have also had time to put up the meteorological screen and dig a beautiful ice-house in a small stranded berg on the south shore. Unfortunately, the day after the larder was filled a big surf came rolling in and the berg began to break up. We had only just time to rescue the forty penguins with which we had stocked it, and carry the little corpses to a near ice-house built of empty cases filled with ice and well out of reach of the sea. The whole beach we are on is a penguin rookery in summer, and has been so for generations. We are constantly reminded of it—in fact so forcibly is this so inside the hut, that before putting down the floor Levick dressed the ground with bleaching-powder. He did this so thoroughly, and inhaled so much of the gas, that he had to retire to his bunk blind in both eyes, with a bad sore throat and all the symptoms of a heavy cold in his head.

This afternoon Abbott, Priestley, Levick, and I climbed to the top of Cape Adare, and certainly the view over the bay was lovely, the east side of the peninsula descending in a sheer cliff to the Ross Sea. We collected some fine bits of quartz and erratic boulders about 1000 feet up, and Levick got some good photographs of the Admiralty Range. On the way down I found some green alga on the rocks.

​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/151 ​Monday, March 6.—We set to work on the coal and stores and carried everything up to the hut, stacking them on the weather side.

We have now settled down into a regular routine; we turn out at 7 a.m., have breakfast at 8 a.m., dinner at 1 p.m., and supper at 7 p.m.

The weather is fairly fine, the temperature keeping between 18° and 20° F., but with a cold east wind. Loose pack sets into the bay with the flood and drifts out with the ebb tide.

March 9.—We had a most magnificent surf breaking on the western shore over a fringe of grounded pack, throwing spray and bits of ice 30 or 40 feet into the air.

On the 11th and 12th we had our first blizzard with heavy drift, and the hut shook a little, but nothing gave way. The remaining penguins began gathering in parties on the sea shore, which looked as though they were going to leave us for the winter; we had now 120 penguins and 4 seals in the ice-house, which should be sufficient for the winter. All manner of bergs drift past our beach, and it is interesting to note the difference in the buoyancy between the two types of berg—the glacier-formed iceberg and the barrier berg composed chiefly or wholly of névé. In one instance a glacier berg about 70 or 80 feet high grounded off our beach in 36 fathoms, and a few days after a barrier berg of similar height drifted past well inside the former.

March 19.—A week of snow and drift, with very little sun.

This morning about seven o'clock it came on to blow ​from the S.E., with lots of drift. Our anemometer registered wind at 84 miles an hour and then broke; some of the squalls after this must have been of hurricane force. The dome tent which I had up for magnetic observations was blown away, and we never saw a sign of it again. The wind eased in the evening, but blew a gale all night.

A very big sea was breaking on the south shore, the spray being carried right across the peninsula, coating our hut with ice. During the heavier squalls it was impossible to stand. The hut shook a great deal, but beyond a few things being shaken off the shelves no damage was done.

The following day was lovely, and we had a fine aurora in the evening. An arc of yellow stretched from N.W. to N.E., while a green and red curtain extended from the N.W. horizon to the zenith.

On March 27 we launched the 'pram,' which is a Norwegian skiff, and tried trawling off the south shore, but did not do very well, our total catch being one sea louse, one sea slug, and one spider; certainly the fishermen, Priestley, Browning, and Dickason, had plenty of difficulties to contend with, as the sea ice was forming so fast that they were compelled to spend most of their time breaking a passage through it.

March 30.—We had another wonderful aurora display this evening. It was like a great curtain of light shaken by a wind, the lower edges being a red colour.

April 9.—The last week has been calm and snowy, and young ice is forming very quickly on the south shore, but on the north shore where there is more swell the sea ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/155 ​keeps fairly open. The whole shore since the last gale is piled with enormous blocks of ice, 15 to 20 feet square, and as many of them are glacier ice we find them most useful for our drinking water.

One of the problems of our spring journey along the coast is how we are going to get back if the ice goes out, or even get over the big lanes that are sure to open in the spring, so I have decided to build two kayaks, by making canvas boats to fit round the sledges; these can be carried on the sledges when travelling over the ice and the sledge fitted in them when crossing open water.

April 17.—The first kayak was finished last Thursday and the canvas dressed with hot blubber, but owing to a week of winds we had not been able to try her until to-day. She proved a great success. I made the first cruise in her along the north shore, using a bamboo as a paddle; she was not at all crank and carried me easily. We will build another, so that by lashing the two together we should have a very seaworthy craft.

May 2.—A lovely day, and as the second kayak was ready we tried her. I have given her more freeboard than the last, and she is, if anything, more seaworthy.

The temperature, which had been steadily dropping all last month, is now at about −7° F., very pleasant in calm weather, but in the winds most of us have had our faces frostbitten.

It is wonderful how quickly the time is passing. I suppose it is our regular routine, and the fact of all having plenty to do.

Levick is photographer, microbiologist, and stores ​officer. His medical duties have been nil, with the exception of stopping one of my teeth, a most successful operation; but as he had been flensing a seal a few days before, his fingers tasted strongly of blubber!

Priestley's geology keeps him wandering on the top or on the slopes of Cape Adare, and he certainly gets more exercise than any of us.

He is also meteorologist, and when he does have any spare moments is out with the trawl or fish trap.

I am doing a survey of Cape Adare and the magnetic observations.

Abbott is carpenter and has the building of the kayaks.

Browning is assistant meteorologist and his special care is the acetylene gas plant, a thankless task, as any escape of gas or bad light brings a certain amount of criticism.

Dickason has proved himself a most excellent cook and baker, while the 'galley' is a model of neatness.

The following was our daily routine during the winter:

At 7 a.m. we turned out, one hand going down to the ice foot to get ice for cooking purposes. A number of empty cases were kept full of ice in the 'lean to' outside the hut for use during blizzards when we could not get down to the ice foot. Breakfast was at 8 a.m., and consisted of porridge, seal steak or bacon, and tea. After breakfast we would turn to at our various jobs and worked till 1 p.m., when we had a cold lunch, bread and cheese and sometimes sardines, then work again until 4 p.m., when we had tea. After tea we cleared up decks, and then the rest of the day everyone had to himself.

​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/159 ​Dinner was at 7 p.m., and was usually seal or penguin, pudding, and dessert. After dinner hardly a night passed without a gramophone concert.

Saturday morning was devoted to a good soap-and-water scrub of the whole hut, everyone piling their belongings on their beds, Saturday afternoon being 'make and mend.'

Sunday breakfast was at 9 a.m. to give the cook a lie-in, and every week church was held at 10.30 a.m.

In fine weather Sunday was a great day for a long walk, either over the sea ice or up Cape Adare.

During the week everyone had a washing day, when he had a bath and washed his clothes, clothes lines being rigged across the hut.

Of the two huts left by Sir George Newnes' expedition in 1899, one hut was standing in fairly good condition, the other was roofless. The former we repaired, and it made a very good workshop, while the latter, after clearing out and roofing with a tarpaulin, we turned into a store house. Taking it all round we were a very happy and contented little community, but as a wintering station Cape Adare is not good, being cut off from the mainland until June, when the sea ice can be trusted not to go out in a blizzard.

The sea ice has been forming in Robertson Bay for the last week, and now we are able to walk several miles to the southward. To the northward of our beach is a lot of open water, owing to the strong tidal streams off Cape Adare.

On May 5 began our longest and hardest blow, ​lasting with occasional lulls until the 14th. The morning was overcast, with a cold southerly wind, and when I was out for a walk with Levick we both got our noses frostbitten. In the evening a strong gale blew with drift, and between 1 and 4 a.m. on the 6th the squalls were of hurricane force.

The hut shook and creaked, but stood up to it all right, though some of the ruberoid on the roof was ripped off, a heavy ladder blown some way to leeward, and the outer wall of our porch, made of cases and boards, blown in. In the forenoon the wind eased a little and we were able to get out and secure what we could. The squalls were still so fierce it was impossible to stand in them, and one had to 'heave to' on hands and knees until they passed.

All the sea ice had gone out, although it was over 2 feet thick, and on the 8th the gale freshened again, and during the night the squalls were as hard as any we had had, stones and pebbles rattling against the hut. On the 9th it eased a little, but blew a whole gale until Saturday 13th, when the wind dropped. The peninsula had been swept bare of snow, but the beach and huts were covered with frozen spray. On the 19th the sun left us, but the weather improved, being clear and cold, while the temperature dropped to below zero F. By May 28 the sea ice seemed pretty solid all round us, the temperature being −30° F., and we walked out to the 'Sisters,' two pillar rocks lying off Cape Adare. The ice here showed heavy pressure. There are a good number of bergs frozen in to the northward of us.

​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/163 ​Now the winter cold had set in we were obliged to rig our second stove in the hut, finding it impossible to keep the temperature of the hut above −25° F.

On June 1 we had a twenty-four hours' blizzard, but I am thankful to say the sea ice held, except off the north shore, where it was driven out for about 100 yards along the beach.

June 11.—We have had a week of the most glorious calm and clear weather, the temperature to-day being −25° F.

We have been out to most of the neighbouring bergs, and one in Robertson Bay has the most wonderful caves. Levick got some very good photographs of these with flashlight. Unfortunately Priestley, who was working the flash, got his face badly burnt.

We have felt the want of an alarm clock, as in such a small party it seems undesirable that anyone should have to remain awake the whole night to take the 2–4 a.m. observations, but Browning has come to the rescue with a wonderful contrivance. It consists of a bamboo spring held back by a piece of cotton rove through a candle which is marked off in hours. The other end of the cotton is attached to the trigger of the gramophone, and whoever takes the midnight observations winds the gramophone, "sets" the cotton, lights the candle, and turns the trumpet towards Priestley, who has to turn out for the 2 a.m., and then turns in himself. At ten minutes to two the candle burns the thread and releases the bamboo spring, which being attached to the trigger starts the gramophone in the sleeper's ear, and he turns out and stops the tune. This ​arrangement works beautifully, and can be timed to five minutes.

Other things we should have brought are fencing masks and foils. As it is, Abbott has manufactured some helmets out of old flour-tins and also some bamboo sabres, and there have been desperate encounters out on the snow.

The prismatic skies we get during the day now are perfectly lovely, and last night we had, I think, the best coloured aurora we have seen. It was a great curtain across the northern sky, the colours being red, green, and yellow.

This spell of fine weather continued until June 18, when the glaciers were obscured with drift, and we could hear the rumbling of pressure on the other side of Cape Adare, a sure sign of wind, although with us it was still quite calm.

We counted twenty-six seals along the tide crack to-day, whereas for some weeks before we had not seen any.

June 19.—Last night about 8 it came on to blow a full gale, with heavy drift and squalls of hurricane force. The hut worked a good deal and some of the outer planking was ripped off. It was my turn for the midnight rounds, and I got my nose rather badly frostbitten, so to-day it is one big blister.

On the morning of the 20th the wind went down and we were able to repair the hut. The sea ice stood the blizzard well, but again it had been forced back about a hundred yards from the north shore.

​On June 22 we celebrated Midwinter Day with the usual festivities.

July 10.—The days are already a little lighter, and we are making ready our sledging equipment, for on the 28th of this month I propose making an expedition into Robertson Bay for a week to see what sort of surface to expect up the coast, the pressure all round our beach and Cape Adare being very bad.

We have seen several Antarctic petrels, and it is hard to account for these birds down here in the middle of winter, unless there is open water a little north of us.

July 29.—Priestley, Abbott, and I left the hut for our short expedition into Robertson Bay.

Taking provisions for a fortnight, we left about 8 a.m., when it was beginning to get light. The surface was appalling, and in spite of our light sledge (400 lbs.) it took us three days to reach Duke of York Island, a distance of 22 miles by the route we took to avoid the bad pressure. The salt-flecked smooth ice, being very sticky, was much heavier going even than the pressure ice.

We spent a day at Duke of York Island collecting, and started back at daybreak, August 2. During the day the weather looked so threatening I made for the cliffs just south of Warning Glacier to get some shelter in case of a blizzard. We got some heavy squalls and drift in the afternoon, which nearly made us camp, but keeping on we reached land about 5.30, camping between two high pressure ridges under the cliffs. The noise of the wind in the bay was terrific, and we were thankful to have got some shelter. After supper we ​turned in, and being tired after our hard pull were soon asleep. I was awakened about 9 p.m. by a tremendous din, and found the lee skirting of the tent had blown out from under the heavy ice blocks we had piled on it, and the tent poles were bending under the weight of wind. We just had time to roll out of our bags and hang on to the skirting or the tent would have gone. Taking advantage of a lull we got out and piled more ice on the skirting, but even that was not enough, and we spent a miserable night hanging on to the skirting of the tent. The blizzard dropped by noon the next day, and by one o'clock we were off again, camping at 5.30, when it was too dark to go on.

Starting again just before daybreak on the 4th, we reached the hut the same evening. The temperatures we experienced were not low, the lowest being −26·8° F.

The chief result of this journey was to show that we must expect very bad travelling surfaces up the coast and that I must alter my original plan, which was to start about August 20 with two units of three. I now saw that it would take a party of four to get along over the pressure ice we must expect, so I decided to take Priestley, Abbott, and Dickason with six weeks' provisions and do without a supporting party, leaving Levick and Browning to carry on the work at Cape Adare.

August 8.—Levick, Priestley, Browning, and Dickason left this morning for Warning Glacier to do geology. We had depôted our outfit about 10 miles down the coast, only packing our sleeping-bags, so they were able to go without a sledge, taking their sleeping-bags on their ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/169 ​backs. I remained at the hut with Abbott, who was laid up with water on the knee, and I was kept busy by the combined duties of cook and bottle-washer, meteorologist, etc.

August 10.—Levick's party returned at 4 p.m., bringing in all our equipment. They had had overcast weather and high temperatures, and Levick had only been able to get six photographs, which were not good.

August 16.—We woke up this morning to find the ice had gone out in the night. This was a bitter disappointment and a blow to all my hopes of a western journey over the sea ice—the only comfort is that it came when it did, as had it come a fortnight later, we should have gone out with it. Yesterday a strong blizzard began to blow from the S.E., with lots of drift, and the gale continued very hard all day. About 8 p.m. it lulled a little, only to come on again with redoubled violence between 10 p.m. and midnight.

The squalls were terrific, harder than anything we had yet experienced, shaking the hut so that several things fell off the shelves. The roof of our store house was torn off, and the two gable ends which took all six of us to lift were slung about 20 yards away.

This morning the water extended from our beach to the coast of the mainland a little west of the Dugdale Glacier, and as far as we could see to the westward.

Three Antarctic and two snowy petrels, attracted no doubt by the open water, were flying about the beach.

On the 17th, Levick, Priestley, and I climbed Cape Adare to see the ice conditions in the Ross Sea after the ​gale. Large stretches of open water lay to the S.E. and east, while small pools and lanes were very numerous on the northern horizon, and a heavy bank of fog or mist seemed to indicate a lot of open water there. To the S.W. across Robertson Bay the open water appeared to reach right up to the cliffs of the mainland, but the day was not very clear, and it was hard to make out distinctly if there was a strip of fast ice along the coast.

August 21.—A lovely clear day. We went up Cape Adare again to see the ice conditions to the westward. Owing to the young ice over the open water it was hard to make out if there was an ice foot along the cliffs of the mainland. If the ice remains in I shall go into Robertson Bay early in September to see if the coast journey is feasible, for our only other alternative is to find glaciers leading on to the plateau.

To get a better idea of the gradient of these I climbed about 2500 feet up the slopes of Cape Adare, and the result was not very encouraging. I doubt if the glaciers in Robertson Bay lead directly to the plateau, as the Admiralty Range rises in a series of unbroken ridges of bare rock from the sea to apparently far inland.

Altogether the outlook made me wish more than ever that the ship had had sufficient coal to take us back to Wood Bay.

The spell of fine weather lasted till the 30th, allowing thin ice to form over the open water, except in some pools near Cape Adare which the current seemed to keep open. The night of the 30th a blizzard began, with heavy drift, some of the squalls being very heavy ​indeed, but it moderated towards the morning. The new ice had not gone out, but a large sheet of open water was visible to the north, while along the northern horizon an open water sky was visible. A decided swell along the beach makes me certain open water is not far distant.

September 7.—September came in with blizzards which prevented our getting away as early as we wished. Yesterday and to-day, however, we have been getting sledges and outfit over the bad pressure ice which lies to the southward of the beach.

We are taking a 12-ft. and a 10-ft. sledge, the latter being on iron runners, as no wooden runners would stand the sharp edges of the pressure ice for long. We also find the iron runners, in spite of the 40 lbs. extra weight, run much better over the salt-flecked ice. Once over the pressure we packed the 12-ft. sledge and secured it on the 10-ft.

Our total weight including sledges amounts to 1163 lbs.

The sledging ration we are taking is based on Shackleton's ration adapted for coast sledging.

We are convoying Levick and Browning as far as Warning Glacier, where the former is going to take photographs.

September 22.—On this journey the surfaces were so bad that we only managed to reach Cape Barrow, the western limit of Robertson Bay.

After our return we experienced a spell of bad weather until the 22nd, when it cleared, so Levick started off again for Warning Glacier to get the photographs he had been unable to take before.

​Priestley, Browning, and Dickason went with him, and the party took provisions for a week.

September 27.—Levick and his party returned to-day and reported bad weather and blizzards nearly the whole time. They managed, however, to get a few photographs. I am arranging to start on our western journey October 1. Levick and Browning will come as far as Cape Wood to take photographs.

October 3.—Weather-bound until to-day, when, the weather clearing in the afternoon, we transported our sledges and gear over the pressure ice lying round the beach and left them three miles south.

October 4.—A fine morning, so after a 5.30 breakfast we started away with our sleeping-bags on our backs, and picking up our sledges made pretty good progress over salt-flecked ice with occasional belts of pressure.

To show the superiority of our iron runners over salt-flecked ice, I may mention that two of us pulled the iron-runner sledge weighing 1000 lbs. and kept ahead of Levick's sledge with only 200 lbs. and four men in the traces. About 12 miles out we came to a lot of pressure, so I took my party, consisting of Priestley, Abbott, and Dickason, and steered for Relay Bay, telling Levick and Browning to go their own pace and make the best of their way to the cave.

We camped that night in the middle of Relay Bay and after supper pulled the iron-runner sledge and depôt to a cave discovered on the north side of Point Penelope on a former journey, where we left it, as this sledge is no use in deep snow. We found Levick had just arrived all right, ​so picking up our ski and a few things we had left there, we returned to camp. The temperature remains −15° F.

A lovely morning with the temperature −21° F.; we were on the march by 8.30 over a fairly good surface.

In the afternoon we got into deep snow again and had to put on ski; we had fitted each ski with a detachable strip of sealskin which made pulling on them much easier. We camped that night 4 miles south of Cape Wood, after picking up our 12-ft. sledge and depôt at Birthday Point. Temperature −28° F.

October 6.—The morning was overcast but warmer, the temperature being −3° F. To-day we reached a little bay north of Cape Barrow.

After supper we heard an extraordinary noise like a ship's siren, which I suppose must have been a seal, but none of us had heard anything like it before. During the night we were awakened by an avalanche falling near us, but we were not near enough to the cliff to be in danger.

October 7.—We made a depôt in Siren Bay, leaving one sledge and taking on the 12-ft. sledge and four weeks' provisions. We had an early lunch and started. By keeping some way from the coast we got into fairly good surface, but I noticed round some of the pressure ridges pools of very new ice, while some large areas of flat ice appeared to have been recently flooded, the ice being dark and slushy.

We camped at 6.30, having done five miles since noon. In clearing away the snow for the tent we found the ice brownish in colour and quite salt. While we were turning ​in, Priestley, who was in his bag, heard a seal gnawing the ice just under his head and remarked to me that it seemed very close, so I sung out to Abbott to take an ice-axe and test the ice. After a few blows he was through and reported the ice only eight inches thick and very soft and sodden.

We turned out and tried several places, with the same result.

Then Priestley and I went about a quarter of a mile towards the land and tried again, with no better result. Finally we found a small patch where the ice was about 15 inches thick and we shifted camp.

Things looked serious, for the season was becoming advanced and the summer thaw approaching, while we had to advance along a straight coast line with steep cliffs as far as we could see. After talking over the situation with Priestley we decided that unless we could find thicker ice near the land we should have to turn, as this ice might break up any time.

It was a bitter disappointment, for I had expected at least to be able to get beyond Cape North this way. It came on to blow with drift in the night, but fortunately the wind did not last, and to our delight on turning out we found the sun breaking through.

After breakfast, taking ski and a spade, I went in towards the land, trying a lot of places and always finding thin sodden ice; in places the under layers of snow were so wet and soft it seemed as though the ice was depressed below the surface of the sea.

After taking a round of angles we returned, making ​Siren Bay the same night. On our way back we sounded the ice several times, finding thin ice until we reached the tide crack at the mouth of the bay.

October 9 and 10.—We went north along the coast on ski, collecting and examining the face of the glacier, but we found no place where it was possible to climb up. The snow along the coast was very soft and deep, making progress difficult even on ski. We saw a good number of snow and Antarctic petrels circling about the cliffs as if they nested here.

October 11.—The temperature when we turned out was −22·8° F.

Our only chance of doing anything now was to try and get up on one of the glaciers, and although we had seen no accessible place on our outward march, we decided to follow round each bay and examine the coast closely. To-day we returned to Birthday Point.

October 12.—A fine morning; I got a round of angles while Priestley went round the bay on ski. We saw a seal near the camp which had just given birth.

Our noses are frostbitten and sunburnt and are a curious sight. They have swollen very much; Abbott's is the worst, being one great blister. I had an attack of snow blindness in the afternoon.

October 13.—Temperature −1° F., weather thick, with snow. We pulled out after breakfast and made for Sphinx Rock, where we camped at 1.30, just in time, as it came on to blow hard, with heavy drift. We saw several seals up along the side crack.

October 14.—Weather-bound all day in the tent, ​blowing a blizzard, with heavy drift, impossible to see five yards.

October 15.—The wind dropped in the morning, but the weather remained overcast. Priestley went collecting and taking photographs, while the rest of us took one sledge half-way over to Point Penelope, as our load was very big after picking up the depôts.

October 16.—Weather overcast and snowing, but much warmer; we went round the bay collecting. It is impossible to get on to any of the glaciers from the sea ice, as they are all wall-faced.

October 17.—After getting some photographs of icebergs we started for Point Penelope. The forenoon was fine, but during our halt for lunch a heavy bank of cloud worked up from the N., and soon after resuming our march a S.E. wind sprang up, bringing snow and drift. The weather got so bad we had to leave one sledge about a mile out, and got into camp in the cave with the others just as the blizzard came on. In the cave we were as snug as could be, and finding some seal meat Levick had left, put it in the hoosh and had a great feed.

October 19.—Temperature zero. Weather very thick. We laid out a depôt off the Dugdale ice tongue which will do for our next trip into Robertson Bay.

October 20.—Weather very thick; land on the other side of the bay being obscured, we had to shape course by compass to Cape Adare, Starting about 9, we pulled through the fog, getting into rather troublesome pack, till one o'clock, when we halted for lunch. During lunch the fog lifted, and by climbing a berg I was able to see ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/179 ​a lead of smooth ice about half a mile to the northward. Getting on to this we made good progress, arriving back at the hut at 5 p.m. A good many seals were up, and about two miles from home we came on the first party of penguins.

After our return from this second coast trip the sea ice became too rotten to be trustworthy, even in Robertson Bay, while to the north of the beach, where the sweep of the current was exceptionally strong, the various open water patches which had been present since August rapidly widened and coalesced, and in December the ice both east and west of the cape broke out with great rapidity.

Our work, therefore, was now restricted to the immediate confines of the beach and the peninsula of Cape Adare, and this time was principally occupied in taking routine observations and adding to our biological collections.

Amongst the specimens collected at this time were several fine sea leopards, which I was fortunate enough to shoot near the rookery. As most of them were shot in the water, we had some difficulty in securing the bodies, and it was here that our kayaks were very useful.

We could carry these light and yet seaworthy craft down to the ice foot and launch them, and from them slip a noose round the body as it lay on the bottom in two or three fathoms of water. The line was then passed ashore and the united strength of the party just sufficed to land the quarry.

​After Christmas a permanent camp was established on Cape Adare and we were divided into three watches, one of which was always stationed on top of the cape to look out for the ship. During one of these watches Priestley and Dickason walked ten miles south along the cape, to find out whether, in the event of the ship not picking us up, it was possible for us to make our way south this way. They report the cape to reach a height of 4200 feet at its highest point, and from there they were able to get a good view of Warning Glacier and consider that it would be impossible to make an extended journey in this direction.

On the morning of January 4 Browning sighted the ship and signalled us on the beach below by hoisting a flag as arranged, and two days later all our gear was aboard and we were on our way to try our fortune two or three hundred miles farther south along the coast.

January 8, 1912. p.m.—This evening Pennell and I from the crow's nest saw open water behind the heavy pack we had been working through all day. I had given up hope of being able to land at Evans Coves, and talking it over with Pennell had just decided to come down in the ship and pick up Debenham first, when we saw the open water, and by 9 the same evening we were secured alongside the sea ice about 1½ miles from the piedmont, north of Evans Coves. It was a lovely evening, and with the help of the ship's people we soon had our outfit on the piedmont by a big moraine, where we had arranged to make our depôt, and be picked up by the ship on February 18.

​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/183 ​Our stores were six weeks' sledging rations, one 12-ft. sledge (Priestley, Dickason, and myself), and one 10-ft. sledge (Levick, Abbott, and Browning). In addition to this I landed a depôt consisting of seven boxes of biscuits, one box of cocoa (24 tins), one box of chocolate (36 lbs.), one box of sugar (56 lbs.), 4 weekly bags of pemmican (14 lbs. each), 2 weekly bags of raisins, 2 cheeses, 1 bag of onions, 14 tins of oil, a little spare clothing, a spare sleeping-bag, and a spare tent and poles. Also my small primus stove, and two spare sledges, one of which was fitted with iron runners. By midnight we were camped, and saw the last of the ship steaming out of the bay.

January 9.—Turned out at 6 a.m., but we did not get away until 10.30, shaping course N.W. for some foothills between us and Mt. Melbourne. Hard rough ice and a strong S.W. breeze made our sledges skid and did the runners no good. Crossed many thaw pools and channels covered with thin ice, through which we broke. After about an hour's pulling, however, we got on to a snow surface, which was better going. We camped early to try and repair the sledgemeter. Got a good round of angles after hoosh. Night calm but overcast. Lengthened the traces as we may expect crevasses.

January 10.—Overslept ourselves, not turning out until 7. It was 9 o'clock before we were under way. Our course lay over the piedmont ice, close under the northern foothills which lay between us and Mt. Melbourne. Some way ahead it looked as if a glacier from Mt. Melbourne came out on the piedmont, thereby giving ​us a road to the north. Soon after starting snow began to fall, and that, combined with a slight up-grade, made our sledges very heavy. About noon we rounded a point (Cape Mossyface), on which we found a quantity of lichen, and came on to a smooth glacier, of easy gradient, and snow-covered, which I hoped came from Mt. Melbourne; but the weather was so thick with snow we could see nothing, so camped for lunch in the hope of its clearing, as I had no wish to pull the heavy sledges up a cul-de-sac. This evening so much snow fell that we had to remain in camp, being unable to see ten yards. Snowing all night.

January 11.—Still snowing as hard as ever at 5.30 a.m., but by 7.30 the clouds began to break, and by 9 we were on the march. Snow very soft and deep, making pulling very heavy, so that we had to relay. All six of us had difficulty in getting one sledge along. We then all put on ski, and were able to get along better as we broke a regular trail along which the sledge ran.

The snow and mist cleared away about 10 a.m., giving us a magnificent view up a large glacier, the main body of which seemed to flow past the west slope of Mt. Melbourne. A few miles south of Mt. Melbourne and on the west side of the main glacier, a tributary glacier, which we named from its shape the Boomerang, flows in. In the afternoon a S.W. wind improved the surface and each team was able to manage its own sledge. A lovely night, but all hands very tired.

January 12.—Woke at 3 a.m. to find strong wind, with drift. The snow ceased a little while we had breakfast, only to come down harder than ever afterwards, and as ​Dickason and I were suffering from snow-blindness we did not march till 3, when the wind eased. Camped at the entrance of the Boomerang Glacier, which I think may be a possible way through to Wood Bay.

January 13.—Turned out at 6. A lovely morning, so leaving camp standing we went a little way up the Boomerang Glacier to see if it would be possible to get the sledges up. The route looked feasible but probably difficult for sledges, so I decided to try the main glacier first. Returning to camp about 1 o'clock we pulled north, camping for the night north of the Boomerang and under some steep ice slopes.

January 14.—Another fine day. Dickason and I were snow-blind, so the others climbed the ice slope to see if they could find a way for the sledge. They returned to camp about 3.30, and said that after climbing several ice undulations, more or less crevassed, they came to a steep ice slope leading to a rocky ridge.

Owing to the nails having come out of Browning's boots he kept losing his balance and nearly dragging the party down with him, and as there were several large crevasses at the bottom of the slope, Priestley very wisely decided to return. The icefalls we see from our present camp apparently connect with the ridge. It was worth going on to see, however, so we got under weigh and marched till 7 p.m., when we camped at the foot of the first ice falls on snow, the weather having come over very thick in the afternoon.

January 15.—Still and very thick when we turned out at 6 a.m., so there was nothing for it but to turn in ​again after breakfast. The Antarctic teaches one patience if nothing else.

We are fairly sheltered, but can hear the wind roaring in the crags on the side of the glacier, and the snow and drift are so thick that we can only see a few yards. Occasionally in the lulls we can see the blue icefalls looming up through the drift, and then everything shuts down again.

The conditions remained the same until breakfast on January 19, when it began to clear from the southward. We started away after breakfast with the surface awful, and the snow so deep I doubt if we should have got the sledges along at all if we had not had ski, which enabled us to break a trail. As soon as it was clear to the northward, Priestley and I climbed the slopes on our left on ski, leaving the remainder halted at the bottom. The view from the ridge was not promising. The icefalls reached right up to the ridge, a mass of séracs and crevasses as far as we could see, and I decided to return and try the Boomerang Glacier, which lay a few miles south of us. The sun now came out, and in the deep sticky surface it took all six of us to pull one sledge. We had to relay all the way, and it was six o'clock before we reached the N. lateral moraine of the Boomerang Glacier, where we camped.

January 20.—After breakfast we divided into two parties. I, taking Levick and Dickason, climbed the mountain on the N. side of the glacier. Priestley, taking Abbott and Browning, went up the glacier on the moraine, where Priestley wanted to collect.

​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/189 ​At the first possible place my party left the glacier, and, after about an hour's climb, came out on a snow field, where we roped up and ploughed through deep snow lying over ice, along the foot of a steep slope, which we attempted to climb by cutting steps in order to reach a rocky spur several hundred feet above us. Half-way up, however, we had to retrace our steps, the snow being inclined to avalanche, and continue our way along the foot of the slope for about an hour, when we were able to get on another rocky spur and climb.

Some of the granite boulders were hollowed out in a wonderful way by the action of sand-carrying wind. We crawled right inside some, and found room for five or six men.

The view from where we were was very fine in every direction but N.W., where a higher ridge bounded our horizon. Looking down on the Mt. Melbourne neck we had first proposed crossing, I saw, to my surprise, that the flat ice on top of the neck was heavily crevassed.

We got back to camp about 6.30, and found the others had not yet arrived. They turned up a little before 9, all very tired. Priestley reported very heavy going, soft snow up to their thighs, which completely hid the crevasses, and they dropped down a good many.

They reached a height of 3680 feet above the camp, but could not see whether the glacier would form a good route over into Wood Bay.

As far as they went it would be possible to get sledges, but progress would be very slow indeed, so considering our limited time we decided to work along more to the ​westward in the hope of finding a larger and easier glacier. Even if unsuccessful we should be breaking new ground, and Priestley could put in some good collecting from the different moraines, while I surveyed.

January 21.—A fine morning, but wind in the mountains. After getting a round of angles, we started, my party crossing the Boomerang Glacier and working down the west side of the Melbourne Glacier, while I sent Levick's party back the way we came, down the east side of the Melbourne Glacier, with orders to collect from the different exposures, and join us at the S.W. entrance of the main glacier.

The surface was better, and we camped that evening on the south moraine of the Boomerang and well down the Melbourne Glacier.

We had been unable to wear our glasses yesterday climbing, and were now paying the penalty, for we were all snow-blind, so we dressed each other's eyes with Hemisine, and turned in very sorry for ourselves.

January 22.—Only one eye among the three of us, and that belongs to Dickason. He tells me that it is a lovely morning, and that he can see to cook hoosh. After hoosh our last hope goes and we do no more cooking that day. We have all had snow-blindness before, but never anything like so bad as this, and are in great pain. Priestley's eyes and mine are quite closed up, and I think Dickason's are nearly as bad.

January 23.—Eyes better, but still very painful. Started after breakfast. Surface a little soft, but good pulling on ski.

​After 6 p.m. the surface got so bad, owing to undercut sastrugi, that we had to relay half our load at a time, and even then had frequent upsets. We camped at 9.30 p.m. about 1 mile E. of a cape we named Cape 'Sastrugi.'

January 24.—A fine morning, but no sign of Levick's party, so after getting a true bearing and round of angles, I joined Priestley and Dickason collecting, on Cape Sastrugi. I made some sketches. This piedmont we are on extends west to the Mt. Nansen Range, and seems quite flat, except where glaciers run in, where there are undulations and crevasses.

January 25.—Overcast. Levick has not turned up yet, which is very annoying. It is useless going to look for him, as the undulations at the mouth of the Melbourne Glacier would completely hide a party, unless both happened on the same route. Collecting to-day on some moraines south of us, Priestley fell through a snow bridge of a crevasse up to his arms. He was not roped at the time, so it was lucky he did not go through altogether.

January 26.—A clear morning, but blowing hard, with drift. Climbed the hills to the N.W., taking the theodolite and sketch-book, and got a true bearing and good round of angles.

I also made out the truant party calmly camped on the east side of the Melbourne Glacier. So returning to camp we packed food for eighteen days, and depôted the remainder, together with the specimens, and a note to Levick telling him my proposed plans, which were to try the two glaciers which came in at the N.W. corner of the piedmont, for a route into Wood Bay, and directing ​him not to attempt them unless he caught me up, but to photograph and collect on the shores of the piedmont.

January 27.—Overcast. Tops of mountains obscured. Strong wind in squalls. Started after breakfast, and with our light load made good progress. We made a big sweep round Cape Sastrugi to try and avoid the crevasses, but without success.

The afternoon was hot and muggy, and when we camped that night we were wet with perspiration. After supper I went out with Priestley to collect, and the sun being hot I took off my vest, and, turning it inside out, put it over my sweater, where it dried beautifully. I remarked to Priestley at the time that this ought to bring me luck, and sure enough, immediately afterwards I found a sandstone rock containing fossil wood, the best specimen as yet secured by the party.

January 28.—Blowing hard from the N.W., with drift, but clear sky. The temperature being warm, the drift made everything very wet. After breakfast Priestley hunted for fossils, while I got another round of angles. We then marched, edging over to the northern moraines, on which we camped that night.

January 29.—A beautiful day, but no sign of the other party. After breakfast we started, and crossing moraine, steered for what we called 'Corner Glacier,' a small steep glacier whose course lay more on our route for Wood Bay. The going was easy, and we camped that evening on the north lateral moraine, which lies at the foot of a steep scree descending from the mountains.

The moraine was a very large one, with a number of ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/196 ​conical heaps and with lakes in all the little valleys. The noise of running water from a lot of streams sounded very odd after the usual Antarctic silence. Occasionally an enormous boulder would come crashing down from the heights above, making jumps of from 50 to 100 feet at a time.

January 30.—Another fine morning, so after breakfast we started for the south end of 'Black Ridge,' from which place we could get a view up the Priestley Glacier. Arriving there about 1 o'clock we found we were cut off from the moraine by a barranca from 40 to 50 feet deep. The glacier itself seemed an important one, judging by the disturbance it made in the piedmont where it flowed in, large undulations and big crevasses extending many miles out.

Although not so steep as Corner Glacier, it was much more crevassed, but what decided us to try Corner Glacier was that the Priestley Glacier curved from a S.W. direction, which would have taken us off our course. Accordingly, after I had secured a round of angles, we steered for the foot of the icefalls of the Corner Glacier, getting there about 5 p.m. After hoosh we left camp standing and climbed the glacier, which proved a very easy job, as, although steep and broken, the séracs are worn smooth and many of the crevasses filled in, which looks as if there was very little movement now.

Arriving at the top of the first icefall we found ourselves on rather a steep broken surface, the valley running in a north-westerly direction for a few miles, where it was fed by several steep glaciers or ice cascades from ​the heights. It would have been interesting to follow this glacier up, but the route was quite impossible for a sledge and we returned to camp footsore and disappointed.

January 31.—Fog, snow, and then drift kept us in our tent till one o'clock, when, the snow easing up a little, we marched for the moraines of the Priestley Glacier. I had now given up all hope of getting through to Wood Bay this year, our time being too short to get over by the Boomerang Glacier, which I consider the only practicable route for a sledge, so we turned our attention to the Priestley Glacier, on whose moraines Priestley hoped to find some more fossil wood.

We camped about 6 on the southern moraine. While so doing Dickason caught sight of Levick and his party heading for the Corner Glacier. After some difficulty we managed to attract their attention and they pulled over and camped near us. Levick had apparently misunderstood my instructions, and waited for me at Cape Mossyface, then seeing his mistake he headed for Cape Sastrugi across the mouth of the Melbourne Glacier and crossed a maze of crevasses. He says, 'Getting under way about 10, we marched till 12.30 over fairly good surface. After that we got into a perfect net-work of crevasses. They were mostly snow-bridged, and had we not had ski on we could never have got over, as we could break holes in them in places with our ice-axes. It was 7.30 before we found a place where there was a small space sufficiently free from crevasses to enable us to camp. One of the snow bridges we had to cross broke ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/199 ​under the weight of the sledge, but only just under the bows. Had she gone down altogether the result might have been serious. After that we relayed, taking half our load at a time.'

February 1.—We decided to put in the rest of our time collecting from the moraines and foot-hills north of where we had landed, as we knew we should have no time to get far enough up the Boomerang to survey any new ground. During the day I found one large piece of sandstone with the impression of part of a fossil tree.

February 2.—We spent the forenoon breaking up a big boulder, a longer job than we expected, as the lower half was embedded in the frozen soil. After digging it out and rolling it over, Priestley split it open. Inside we found a beautiful specimen of wood. Levick photographed it before we proceeded to break it up, as we knew we could never get it out whole.

February 3.—The weather, which had been perfect up till now, changed, and we woke to find it overcast, with a cold N.W. wind blowing.

We started away after breakfast and made good way, passing Cape Sastrugi before we camped.

February 4.—Fine day. We crossed the Campbell Glacier. The surface was very good for pulling on ski, but too soft without.

We camped to-night about 6 miles off the main depôt. My eyes rather bad.

February 5.—Priestley and Dickason went over to collect on Lichen Island, while Levick and Abbott did the slopes north of us.

​Priestley found an extraordinary quantity of lichens on the island.

February 6.—Fine morning, but a strange southwesterly wind.

Getting under way after breakfast, we reached the main depôt about 3 o'clock, and found to our surprise Debenham's party had never landed, our letters to him being still in the 'post box' we had fixed up.

February 7.—The wind, which had fallen yesterday evening, freshened up between 1 and 2 a.m., and, when we turned out, was blowing a whole gale, but with a clear sky. An ex-meridian altitude gave the latitude of this place 74° 55′ S. In the afternoon Levick, Priestley, Dickason, and I climbed to the top of what we afterwards called Inexpressible Island to see if we could make out the Nansen Moraine, which Priestley wanted to visit. I told him to take Abbott and Dickason to-morrow, while I carry the theodolite up here and get a round of angles.

February 8.—Both parties started directly after breakfast; Priestley, taking Abbott and Dickason and a week's provisions, went round west of the island, keeping on the piedmont ice, and I climbed the island with the theodolite, taking Levick and Browning with me.

It was a clear day but blowing a regular gale from the west, the wind from the plateau feeling very cold—an unpleasant day for theodolite work. By aneroid I made the height of the island 1320 feet. We returned to camp about 7 p.m.

February 9.—It came on to blow very hard in the morning, and we had to secure the tents with big stones ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/204 ​on the skirting, the snow being all blown off. In the evening Browning got two penguins for the pot.

February 10.—Still blowing very hard, too hard in fact to set up the theodolite. Priestley and party pulled in about 2 p.m. He said they had had a gale of wind the whole time, the wind only dropping for two hours. The moraine we saw from the top of the island appears to be the Priestley Glacier moraine. They found some sandstone with fossil wood inclusions, but not such good specimens as we got inland.

In the afternoon Priestley and I found a lot of shells, worm casts, and sponge spicules in little holes on the piedmont.

February 11. The wind dropped after breakfast, so Priestley, Dickason, and I sledged over to the hills north of us and camped by a lake on the southern slopes. Levick, Abbott, and Browning, leaving their camp standing, examined Evans Coves on the S. Island. They found a small penguin rookery and a large number of seals on the ice foot.

They also found a large number of old dead seals on the beach, one or two of the largest measuring 12 feet in length.

February 12.—Heavy snow, wind, and drift all day. Levick and his party pulled in about 3 p.m. and camped near us.

February 13.—Snowing all night, and although it eased this morning, it kept on all day, stopping our survey completely. In the evening we killed three penguins for food. Levick and party returned to the main depôt.

​February 14 and 15.—Priestley and I spent the two days collecting and surveying. On the night of the 15th it began to snow, and, a strong plateau wind getting up, we spent the 16th in our tent, the drift being too thick to do anything.

February 17.—Still blowing hard, with drift, but clear overhead. In the afternoon we packed up, and pulled over to the main depôt, as the ship was due the following day. We camped late in the evening in our old place under the moraine. Blowing a heavy gale all night.

February 18 to 29.—Most of this time while we were waiting for the Terra Nova the wind blew with uninterrupted violence and the tents suffered considerably. Our own tent split near the cap, but after several failures we managed to tie a lashing round the top and so saved the split from spreading to the body of the canvas.

Levick's tent also split near the opening, and Abbott was obliged to sew the rent up in spite of the coldness of the blizzard.

On February 24 the blizzard lulled for a short time and we were enabled to get a little exercise, but the whole of this time was occupied with a not too cheerful discussion about food.

Our sledging provisions were due to give out on the 27th and it was necessary to reserve at least half of the depôt food for the sledge journey down the coast in the spring which would become inevitable should the ship not relieve us. It was therefore necessary to reduce the ration at once, and I asked Priestley to take charge of all food ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/207 ​from now on till the time we were relieved or relieved ourselves.

We decided to reduce the biscuit to half ration and cut out everything else for the time being except seal meat and a small portion of pemmican for flavouring. This same day we were fortunate enough to kill a small crab-eater seal. I tasted a small piece of raw blubber and rather liked it, while Abbott and Browning declared that it had a very strong flavour of melon.

It was some time, however, before the blubber was added to our diet as a regular ration. During this short period of calm several times one or other of the party thought they saw smoke off the end of the Drygalski, but there seems no doubt that what they saw was only what is known as frost smoke, the vapour from the leads of open water on pack ice, though the ship certainly was at one time within 25 miles of us.

On the 27th further discomfort was added to our condition as the gale was accompanied by blinding drift, so that we had all the unpleasantness of a barrier blizzard with no adequate shelter; for the tents were threadbare and torn in several places. The snow was soon so thick that the sledge was completely buried with drift and the tent three-quarters hidden.

During most of this fortnight we were living on one meal a day, and on this day we were unable even to get this, so that by the 29th, when the wind eased for a day or two, we were in no wise in a condition to look forward with equanimity to the chance of a winter without sufficient food or decent shelter; in fact so weak were we that a ​walk of a mile or two tired us far more than a hard day's sledging had done a month before.

Perhaps the worst feature in our present position, however, is the absence of any news from our comrades, and the fear which is naturally growing within us lest the ship should have got into some trouble during this heavy weather.

February 29.—The wind dropped in the morning, and we had our first fine day since the 15th. In the afternoon we pulled over and camped on the island south of the moraine, which we have named Inexpressible Island. In the evening after hoosh we climbed 'Look-out' Hill, and saw what we thought was smoke on the horizon, and under it a small black speck. Unfortunately, it turned out to be only an iceberg with a cloud behind it, showing dark under a snow-squall.

Soon after the wind and snow recommenced.

March 1.—The weather cleared at 10 a.m. I had decided to start killing seals for the winter to-day if there was no sign of the ship, so after seeing no sign of anything from Look-out Hill, we killed and cut up two seals and eighteen penguins.

There are very few of the former up, and seals hate wind, so we must pray for fine weather to stock our larder, as the animals seldom leave the water in the winter.

March 2 to 4.—It came on to blow hard in the night of the 1st, and continued blowing steadily for the next three days.

The gale reached its height on the 3rd, when the tent split and we had to shift camp on to a snowdrift, where we ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/211 ​could raise a bit of a snow wall. These last three days we have been lying in our wet bags, watching the tent poles bend and quiver as each squall strikes the tent, and speculating as to what can have happened to the ship.

We also feel having only two biscuits a day and an insufficient supply of seal meat. We are hungry both for news of the Southern Party and for more food.

March 5 to 15.—The conditions are gradually but surely becoming more unbearable, and we cannot hope for improvement until we are settled in some permanent home for the winter. The tents we are living in at present are more threadbare than ever, and are pierced with innumerable holes both large and small, so that during the whole time we are inside them we are living in a young gale.

To-day, March 15, is the last that I expect the ship, and from now on I shall conclude something has happened and that she is not coming.

For some days we have been preparing in every way possible for the winter, and our position may be summed up as follows: We landed, besides our sledging rations, six boxes of biscuits with 45 lbs. in each box. The sledging biscuits were finished on March 1, and of the others we have to keep two boxes intact for our journey down the coast.

We have also enough cocoa to give us a mug of very thin cocoa five nights of the week; enough tea for a mug of equally thin tea once a week; and the remaining day we must reboil the tea leaves or drink hot water solus. Our only luxuries are a very small amount of chocolate and sugar, sufficient to give us a stick of chocolate every ​Saturday and every other Wednesday, and eight lumps of sugar every Sunday. A bag of raisins we are keeping to allow twenty-five raisins per man on birthdays and red-letter days, and I can see that one of Priestley's difficulties in the future is going to be preventing each man from having a birthday once a month. We have decided to open up neither the chocolate nor the sugar till we are settled in our winter quarters, and, at present, breakfast and supper each consist of a mug of weak seal hoosh and one of weak cocoa, with one biscuit.

To eke out these provisions we have eleven seals and 120 penguins already killed, but to get through the whole winter, even on half rations, we shall require several more seals, and the infrequency of their appearance is causing us all great anxiety.

The wind is incessant, but although strong and very cold, it at least has the merit of being usually free from drift, so that on most days we can work even if under very disadvantageous conditions.

There is plenty of work for all hands, for besides collecting the seals and penguins we have had to carry over our equipment, such as it is, and the provisions from our depôt at Hell's Gate to the site of the snow cave on Inexpressible Island, while three or four of us are usually at work there with pick and shovel.

We have selected a hard drift under the lee of a small hill and have commenced burrowing into it, using two short-handled ice-axes of Priestley's. It is slow work, but after a few hours we had a sheltered place to work in and made better progress.

​We have also been experimenting on a blubber reading-lamp and are, I think, on a fair way to success.

March 16.—Blowing hard all day, very cold. Our bags and all gear are covered with drift. The outlook is not very cheerful. We are evidently in for a winter here, under very hard conditions. When we can be out and working things are not so bad, but lying in our bags covered with drift, with nothing to do but speculate as to what has happened to the ship, is depressing. We are using salt water in our hoosh and some bleached and decayed seaweed from a raised beach, which we try to imagine is like cabbage. Priestley says he would not object to fresh seaweed, but cannot induce himself to include prehistoric seaweed in our regular ration.

March 17.—Still blowing, but clear, so after breakfast we struck camp, and started carrying our gear to the hut. The distance is only 1 mile, but over a chaos of big boulders which are the cause of many falls. Our boots have given out and finnesko would not last a day on such surface. Before we had got all our gear over, it came on to blow harder than ever, the squalls bringing small pebbles along with them, and we were several times taken off our feet and blown down.

Luckily no one was damaged, although we all got pretty well frostbitten. It was a great relief to get into our finished hut out of the wind.

We were all dead tired, and turned in directly after hoosh.

March 18.—Our first night in the hut was cold, as we have no door yet and no insulation; in fact, it will take at ​least two days' more work to make it big enough for us, but it is a shelter from the wind, which we can hear roaring outside. We spent the day chipping away at the ice walls and floor. As a matter of fact our 'hut' is only a cave dug into the snow drift, and our roof is of hard snow about 3 feet thick, while the walls and floor are of ice. As snow is a better insulator than ice, we shall line the walls with snow blocks and pack the space between the snow and ice with seaweed. The floor will be of a layer of small pebbles on the ice, with seaweed on top of that; then our tent cloths are spread on the seaweed.

March 19.—A very heavy gale is blowing, but this no longer interferes with our work, and the hut has grown to quite a respectable size.

Our craving for biscuit is growing awful. We do not like this meat diet. In the afternoon the wind moderated a little, but the squalls were still heavy. About 6 p.m. we heard voices outside, and Levick and his party arrived without sleeping-bags and all pretty well frostbitten. They had had a bad time, their tent poles having been broken in a squall, and their tent blown to rags. They had piled rocks on the rest of their gear and then came over to look for us. After reviving them with hoosh, we spent a most uncomfortable night, sleeping two in each bag.

Levick was my partner. My bag was, luckily, a good one, and nothing split, but I should not care to repeat the experience.

March 20.—Luckily the weather had improved enough for Levick's party to get their bags and gear over. The rest of us worked at the hut.

​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/217 ​March 21.—A cold wind, but fine. Priestley, Levick, and Dickason worked at the hut, while Abbott, Browning, and I went over to the main depôt to bring some more gear over. On the way over we saw a seal come up several times and try to get on the ice foot. Leaving Browning to watch the seal, Abbott and I went over for the load, and on our way to our great joy we saw Browning cutting up the seal. But a still greater treat was in store for us. The seal's stomach was full of fish, thirty-six of which were nearly whole. We took these up to the hut, fried them in blubber, and found them excellent. In future we shall always look for fish as soon as we kill a seal.

March 22.—Spent the day bringing up what stores we had left, while some worked at the hut, which is already beginning to look more habitable. The weather is clear and cold, but these strong plateau winds continue, and we get our noses frostbitten every time we go out. My nose is one great blister.

The sea was freezing over in the bay, but the wind kept the ice from forming permanently.

March 23.—We put in another good day's work at the hut. Abbott and I killed and cut up a seal. We have now 13.

March 24, 25, 26.—Blowing a gale, with drift. We worked at insulating the hut.

March 27.—It lulled a little in the forenoon, so three of us managed to get as far as the ice foot to bring up blubber, which we pack on our backs, and which, in spite of being frozen, makes our clothes in an awful mess. ​In fact we are saturated to the skin with blubber, and our clothes in consequence feel very cold.

When we kill a seal, we cut out the heart, liver, and kidneys; then cut the meat up into convenient joints and the blubber and skin into pieces about 2 feet square, which we can carry up on our backs and flense in the hut. We also preserve the head, as besides its meat it contains the greatest delicacy of all, the brain. The gale came on harder than ever in the afternoon.

Browning and I are suffering from dysentery.

March 29 to April 5—High wind and bitterly cold. We all get frostbitten constantly while working at the hut, and most of us are suffering from dysentery.

April 5.—A great improvement in the weather, and we got on well with the hut. We also carried up a lot of our things from the depôt. In the evening just as we were stopping work I saw three seals up on the ice, so we turned out again and killed and butchered them. This makes sixteen seals, and if we can march early should put us out of danger with regard to food. To celebrate the occasion Priestley allowed us an extra biscuit each.

April 7.—Northerly gales and drift since the 5th. The way from the hut to the ice foot is strewn with huge boulders, and it is a difficult job walking over these in a gale of wind without a load, while when one is staggering up under a load of meat or blubber, it is particularly maddening. When a squall catches you, over you go between two boulders, with your legs in the air and the load of blubber holding you down firmly. Our boots ​are all giving out with this rough walking, and we dare not use our finnesko, but must keep them for spring sledging. Our feet are getting very frequently frostbitten and are beginning to feel as if the circulation might become permanently injured.

April 9.—Warmer to-day. We saw a small seal on a floe but were unable to reach him. The bay remains open still. On the still days a thin film of ice forms, but blows out as soon as the wind comes up. In these early days, before we had perfected our cooking and messing arrangements, a great part of our day was taken up with cooking and preparing the food, but later on we got used to the ways of a blubber stove, and things went more smoothly. We had landed all our spare paraffin from the ship, and this gave us enough oil to use the primus for breakfast, provided we melted the ice over the blubber fire the day before. The blubber stove was made of an old oil-tin cut down. In this we put some old seal-bones taken from the carcases we found on the beach. A piece of blubber skewered on to a marline spike and held over the flame dripped oil on the bones and fed the fire. In this way we could cook hoosh nearly as quickly as we could on the primus. Of course the stove took several weeks of experimenting before it reached this satisfactory state. With certain winds we were nearly choked with a black oily smoke that hurt our eyes and brought on much the same symptoms as accompany snow-blindness.

We take it in turns to be cook and messman, working in pairs: Abbott and I, Levick and Browning, Priestley ​and Dickason, and thus each has one day on in three. The duties of the cooks are to turn out at 7 and cook and serve out the breakfast, the others remaining in their bags for the meal. Then we all have a siesta till 10.30, when we turn out for the day's work. The cook starts the blubber stove and melts blubber for the lamps. The messman takes an ice-axe and chips frozen seal meat in the passage by the light of a blubber lamp. A cold job this and trying to the temper, as scraps of meat fly in all directions and have to be carefully collected afterwards. The remainder carry up the meat and blubber or look for seals. By 5 p.m. all except the cooks are in their bags, and we have supper. After supper the cooks melt ice for the morning, prepare breakfast, and clear up. Our rations at this time were as follows:—Breakfast, 1 mug of penguin and seal hoosh and 1 biscuit. Supper 1½ mugs of seal, 1 biscuit and ¾ pint of thin cocoa, tea, or hot water. We were always hungry on this, and to swell the hoosh we used occasionally to try putting in seaweed, but most of it had deteriorated owing to the heat of the sun and the attentions of the penguins.

The cocoa we could only afford to have five days a week and then very thin, but as we had a little tea we had weak tea on Sunday and reboiled the leaves for Monday. As already stated we had a little chocolate (2 ounces per man a week), and 8 lumps of sugar every Sunday. Our tobacco soon ran out, even with the most rigid economy, and we were reduced to smoking the much-boiled tea and wood shavings—a poor substitute. About the middle of this month we found we were getting through ​our seal meat too fast, so had to come down to half the above ration, and it was not until the middle of July, when we got some more seals, that we were able to go back to the old ration.

There is no doubt that during this period we were all miserably hungry, even directly after the meals. Towards the end of June we had to cut down still more, and have only one biscuit per day, and after July to stop the biscuit ration altogether until September, when we started one biscuit a day again. By this means we were able to save enough biscuits for a month at half ration for our journey down the coast. I am sure seals have never been so thoroughly eaten as ours were. There was absolutely no waste. The brain was our greatest luxury; then the liver, kidneys, and heart, which we used to save for Sundays. The bones, after we had picked all the meat off them, we put on one side, so that if the worst came to the worst we could pound them up for soup. The best of the undercut was saved for sledging. After our experience in March, when we got thirty-nine fish out of a seal's stomach, we always cut them open directly we killed them in the hope of finding more, but we never again found anything fit to eat. One of our greatest troubles was a lack of variety in the flavouring of our meals. Two attempts were made by Levick to relieve this want from the medicine chest, but both were failures. Once we dissolved several ginger tabloids in the hoosh without any effect at all, and on the historic occasion when we used a mustard plaster, there was a general decision that the correct term would have been linseed ​plaster, as the mustard could not be tasted at all and the flavour of linseed was most distinct.

For lighting purposes the blubber lamps we made were very satisfactory. We had some little tins, which had contained 'Oxo.' These, filled with melted blubber and a strand of rope for a wick, gave quite a good light. A tin bridge was pierced to hold the wick and laid across the top of the Oxo tin. We luckily had one or two books—'David Copperfield,' 'The Life of R. L. Stevenson,' and 'Simon the Jester' being the favourites—and after hoosh Levick used to read a chapter of one of them. Saturday evenings, we each had a stick of chocolate, and usually had a concert, and Sunday evening at supper twelve lumps of sugar were served out and we had church, which consisted of my reading a chapter of the Bible, followed by hymns. We had no hymn-book, but Priestley remembered several hymns, while Abbott, Browning, and Dickason had all been, at some time or other, in a choir, and were responsible for one or two of the better-known psalms. When our library was exhausted we started lectures, Levick's on anatomy being especially interesting.

April 12.—A calm day. Priestley and I went over to the main depôt to get some oil we had left there on the sledges, and in the afternoon I went into the cove south of us to look for seals. I saw one lying on some new ice, but I could not reach him. I found an old penguin egg. It was four months old if it had been laid this year, so I brought it back on the chance of its having been frozen all the time, but no such luck. It was hopelessly bad.

​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/226 ​April 13–17.—Strong westerly wind, bitterly cold.

April 20.—The same wind continues, but slightly warmer. A large piece had calved off the Drygalski ice tongue. I think this northern face must be altering very fast, as its appearance does not tally with the last survey.

April 23.—Another calm day. Browning and Dickason saw two seals on floes, but were unable to reach them. The sea is still open. On calm days a thin film of ice forms, but disappears as soon as the wind gets up. The current also plays an important part, I am sure, as in Arrival Bay, where there is no current, the ice has formed, and is several feet thick, although the winds are just as strong.

April 24, 25, 26.—Blowing a hard blizzard. On the 25th Dickason dropped 'Y' deck watch and broke the glass, but 'R' and 'C' are going strong, and with sticking-plaster and 'new skin' we have mended Y's glass. We are very snug in our den, and hardly hear the wind.

From April 27 to May 5 the weather prevented much outside work and we spent most of our time in our bags, or working at the improvement of the long tunnel which led to our home. We are roofing this with sealskins on a framework of bamboos, trusting to the drift to increase the thickness of the roof and so insulate us more thoroughly against the cold. We have also dug out one or two alcoves in which to keep meat, blubber, and miscellaneous stores.

We lost the sun to-day and shall not get him back till August 12.

​May 6.—About three times a week we have to bring up salt water ice for the hoosh, as we have run out of salt. This morning Priestley and I went down for sea ice, and as usual were walking round Look-out Point to see if any seals were up, when coming across the sea ice in Arrival Bay we saw figures. We had often talked of the possibility of the ship being caught in Wood Bay and relieving us from that direction.

We both got rather a thrill on sighting them, though they were so close to the open water as to make it improbable that they should be anything but penguins. Still I ran back to the hut for my glasses, as through the low drift they seemed tall enough to be men.

Abbott followed me down with an ice-axe, since, if they were not men, they were food. They turned out to be four Emperor penguins heading into Arrival Bay, so we jumped the tide crack, all getting wet, and made off to intercept them. We came up with them after a long chase, and bagged the lot, Levick coming up just too late for the kill. They were in fine condition, and it was all we could do to carry them back to the hut, each taking a bird. There is no doubt our low diet is making us rather weak. We had a full hoosh and an extra biscuit in honour of the occasion.

May 7.—A blizzard with heavy drift has been blowing all day, so it was a good job we got the penguins. We have got the roof on the shaft now, but in these blizzards the entrance is buried in snow, and we have a job to keep the shaft clear. Priestley has found his last year's journal, and reads some to us every evening.

​From now till the end of the month strong gales again reduced our outside work to a minimum, and most of our energies were directed to improving our domestic routine.

We have now a much better method for cutting up the meat for the hoosh. Until now we had to take the frozen joints and hack them in pieces with an ice-axe. We have now fixed up an empty biscuit tin on a bamboo tripod over the blubber fire. The small pieces of meat we put in this to thaw; the larger joints hang from the bamboo. In this way they thaw sufficiently in the twenty-four hours to cut up with a knife, and we find this cleaner and more economical.

We celebrated two special occasions on this month, my wedding-day on the 10th, and the anniversary, to use a paradox, of the commissioning of the hut on the 17th, and each time the commissariat officer relaxed his hold to the extent of ten raisins each.

Levick is saving his biscuit to see how it feels to go without cereals for a week. He also wants to have one real good feed at the end of the week. His idea is that by eating more blubber he will not feel the want of the biscuits very much.

On May 25 we had an unpleasant experience that might have been serious. Drift had blocked the funnel and shaft so that the smoke from the blubber stove became unbearable and we made up our minds to put it out. As a matter of fact it went out, and we had the greatest difficulty in keeping the lamps alight. This ought to have warned us the air was bad.

In spite of this we lit the primus stove to cook the ​evening hoosh, though we had the greatest difficulty in making it burn. Just before hoosh was ready it went out, and all the lamps followed suit.

Three matches struck in succession did the same before we realised there was no air. I groped for a spade, and crawling along the shaft drove it through the drift, when a match burned immediately, the primus stove gave us no trouble, and all went well; but it was a lesson to us, and in future I kept a long bamboo stuck through the chimney, and the wind keeping it shaking maintained an air-hole. When I fetched the bamboo it was only about 10 yards from the entrance of the shaft, yet the drift was so smothering and the night so dark, it was with the greatest difficulty I could find it.

Towards the end of the month the shaft was so frequently blocked with snow that we dug it out altogether, and then made a hatch with a sack and some bamboos, the coamings being of snow blocks, and the effect of this was at once to be seen in the improvement of the ventilation.

In spite of frequent frostbites during our few trips outside, they have one good point, for they make us appreciate the shelter of the hut and allow us to forget the dirt and grease of everything.

June 1.—Still blowing hard, but clear. Open water in the bay; but when the moon is in the east we can see the blink of ice in the Ross Sea, so I hope the bay will soon freeze over. We have been discussing our best route down, whether to go round the Drygalski on the sea ice or over the tongue. I do not myself think the ice can be ​depended on round the Drygalski. It runs out so far into the Ross Sea, and even in winter I believe there is a lot of movement far out.

On the other hand, Professor David speaks of the Drygalski ice tongue as a bad place to cross owing to rough ice, barrancas, and crevasses. I think that unless the sea ice looks very good I shall choose the ice tongue.

June 2.—A still, fine day, and we are able to lay in a good stock of sea ice, blubber, and meat from our depôts.

One of the seal meat depôts being on the south side of the cove, about a mile away, it is only on fine days we can reach it now we get no daylight.

June 7.—The wind came up again on the night of the 2nd, and has been blowing hard ever since. Levick some days ago designed a new stove, which we call the 'Complex' in opposition to our old one, the 'Simplex.' The reason the 'Complex' did not catch on with the rest of us he put down to professional jealousy, but to-day I came in to find the designer using the old 'Simplex,' while a much battered 'Complex' lay outside on the drift, where it remained for the rest of the winter.

June 10.—The last two days have been calm, and with thick snow, but to-day the old wind came back again, and now it is blowing a gale and the drift is smothering. Levick searched his medicine case for luxuries, and found bottles of ginger, limejuice, and citron tabloids.

The limejuice we keep for sledging, but the two others we serve out from time to time. Our new hatch works well, and although it gets covered up, it keeps the shaft ​from getting blocked with snow, while the bamboo in the chimney keeps us an air hole.

June 12.—The wind moderated to-day, and we were able to get out for sea ice and meat, and also a fresh store of bones from the old carcases of seals which we make use of in our blubber stoves.

June 16.—Being Sunday we get twelve lumps of sugar and have two tabloids of ginger each. These chewed up with sugar and a little imagination give us preserved ginger. The weather during the week has been thick with snow when it has not been blowing, but we have given up hoping for good weather, and if we can get a lull every few days to bring up sea ice and blubber, we shall not worry.

June 20.—The wind eased a little to-day, and I got out for a walk, but soon came in with a frostbitten nose. Our wind clothes are torn and so rotten with blubber that we have to be constantly mending them. The grease makes any snow or drift stick to them, and brushing them when we come in from a walk is a long business. We are feeling very excited about the feast on Midwinter Day, and have been discussing the menu for some time. It will consist of liver hoosh and biscuits, four sticks of chocolate, twenty-five raisins, and a sip of Wincarnis each.

June 22.—Midwinter Day. The weather was seasonable; pitch dark, with wind and a smothering drift outside. We woke up early, and being too impatient to wait longer, turned out, and for breakfast had our first full hoosh. In the evening we had another followed by cocoa with sugar in it, then four citric acid and two ginger tabloids, finishing up the evening with a sing-song and a ​little tobacco, which had been saved for the occasion. In addition four biscuits and four sticks of chocolate were served out, so that we retired to bed with full stomachs once again, and some of us have even saved a bite or two for to-morrow.

After Midwinter Day time passed more quickly, and the knowledge that every day the sun was approaching us cheered us immensely. During the next month we have to celebrate no less than three birthdays, and each with its accompanying slight increase of ration gives us something to look forward to and so helps to pass the intervening days.

The only occurrence which was worthy of note before the end of June was an unpleasant one involving much extra work.

On June 29 we found our seal carcases nearly buried in salt ice, although they were some 200 yards back from the seaward edge of the icefoot. Evidently the spring tides had been the cause of this, and we had a lot of trouble digging the bodies out.

July 4.—Southerly wind, with snow, noise of pressure at sea and the ice in the bay breaking up. Evidently there is wind coming, and the sea ice which has recently formed will go again like the rest. It is getting rather a serious question as to whether there will be any sea ice for us to get down the coast on. I only hope that to the south of the Drygalski ice tongue, where the south easterlies are the prevailing winds, we shall find the ​ice has held. Otherwise it will mean that we shall have to go over the plateau, climbing up by Mount Larsen, and coming down the Ferrar Glacier, and if so we cannot start until November, and the food will be a problem.

We made a terrible discovery in the hoosh to-night: a penguin's flipper. Abbott and I prepared the hoosh. I can remember using a flipper to clean the pot with, and in the dark Abbott cannot have seen it when he filled the pot. However, I assured everyone it was a fairly clean flipper, and certainly the hoosh was a good one.

July 5.—A heavy snowstorm from the S.E., the first one we have had from that quarter since the hut was ready. It blocked the entrance completely. Consequently the air got pretty bad. The primus went out and the lamps burnt dimly until we dug through the drift and let in fresh air. Priestley and I cleared the door, but it was so thick with snow it soon drifted up again. It felt wonderfully warm out and we got quite hot digging. During the night we kept night watch two hours each, the watchman's duty being to keep the entrance from being blocked, as it was useless trying to keep the chimney clear—in fact, snow came down so fast it put the blubber fire out, and the smoke rendered the hut almost untenable, so that we had to cook the evening hoosh with the primus and use most of our precious oil.

July 7—Blew hard all night, drifting up the outer door completely. We cleared the shaft, but as our chimney was buried in drift, we could get no draught for the blubber fire, so we had to build the chimney up with seal skin and snow blocks. All this time the drift ​was perfectly blinding, although the stars were showing overhead.

That evening we had another 'no air' scare, the primus going out and lamps burning dimly until we had made air-holes with bamboos. I see we shall have to be careful in these snowstorms.

July 8.—Still blowing hard, but not so much drift. We had an awful job digging out, as the drift over our door was packed quite hard. This storm has added 2 or 3 feet of hard snow to our drift. It has made the hut much warmer, but has buried our outside meat depôt, and Priestley and I have been trying all day to find it without success.

July 10.—A 'Red Letter' day. As I was walking down to Look Out Point I saw a seal up. It was getting late, so I returned for the knives, and taking Abbott and Browning with me, we ran down and found 2 fat seals.

Abbott had only a short-handled ice-axe with him and had a job to stun his seal. He made several mis-hits, and finally, as the seal was making for the edge, he jumped on its back and gave it a blow on the nose that stunned it. Abbott then got out his knife and tried to stick the seal, but the handle was greasy, and his hands cold, and they slipped up the blade, cutting three fingers badly, so that I had to send him back to the hut, where he arrived feeling very faint from loss of blood. It was quite dark when Browning and I finished cutting up the seals. They were in good condition, the blubber being very thick. It was quite late by the time we got back, but we were able to have a big hoosh, and we shall ​no longer have to be on half-rations of seal meat. We were running things uncomfortably close before. We had six lumps of sugar in honour of the occasion.

July 12.—Abbott's fingers are badly hurt. Levick is afraid the tendons are cut and that he will not be able to bend them again.

Browning and Dickason went for a walk to-day and killed 2 fat seals they found, so we had another double hoosh. The rest of us spent to-day and yesterday depôting the meat from the first two seals.

July 13.—A lovely morning. The sky orange and saffron in the north about noon. Spent the day carrying meat up. The wind got back to its old quarter in the afternoon, and came on to blow hard and very cold, punishing us badly as we struggled up with the meat.

The thin ice that had formed over the bay during the last few days blew out. I do not think this bay will ever be safe to travel on, so we shall have to take the Drygalski ice tongue route and march later.

July 20.—It has been blowing since the 14th, but being clear we have been able to get out every day. To-day being Priestley's birthday we allowed him to do no work and served out six lumps of sugar, a stick of chocolate, and twenty raisins. A sing-song followed in the evening. Altogether a most successful day.

July 24.—The wind got round to the southward yesterday and came on to blow really hard, and is blowing great guns now.

July 26.—The wind dropped suddenly, after blowing a hard gale since the 24th. Priestley and I got down to ​our last kill and found the bay ice had broken away to within 3 or 4 feet of the carcases, but none of the meat had gone, for which we were very thankful. In the afternoon it was blowing very hard again, and we all got frostbitten carrying up the meat.

July 31st.—After two days of warm snowy weather with a moderate S.E. breeze the wind has again swung to the west and is blowing a gale. Signs and tracks of seals are numerous and we have seen several swimming near the ice foot. I think our lean days are over.

August 3.—It has been blowing the same hard westerly wind, clear and cold. Browning got his hand badly frostbitten getting sea ice. It 'went' right up to the wrist and he was a long time bringing it round.

I walked over to the piedmont in the afternoon to look for some penguins we had depôted there. The bay ice had held well. On the piedmont it was blowing hard, with drift, but evidently a low level wind, as half-way up the hills at an altitude of about 1000 feet lay a thin stratus cloud, above which there was no drift off the hills. The sky was very fine to the north.

August 7.—To-day and yesterday have been very warm, the weather overcast, with snow and drift, and our door continually drifting up. Abbott and Browning improved the entrance by building a torpedo-boat hatch out of ski sticks and snow blocks. We felt the increased draught for the blubber stove immediately. The heavy snow of the last month has buried our whole hut about 3 ft. deeper and made it much warmer. Our trouble now is the water that drips from the roof whenever we ​light the blubber stove. We lost our depôt of sledging meat under the new snow, and although we knew its position to within a few yards it took us a week's digging before we found it.

August 10.—To-day we celebrated the return of the sun, but needless to say we did not see him, owing to a heavy gale. We made merry to-night over brain and liver hoosh, two biscuits, six lumps of sugar, and a stick of chocolate, finishing up with sweet cocoa.

We have built up a high chimney, using snow blocks, seal skins, and an old biscuit tin, and we get much less smoke inside now.

August 13.—The wind, which had eased in the early morning, began to freshen about 10. In spite of the gale, Abbott, Browning, and myself started over to the depôt sledge in Arrival Bay. Before we got half-way across the bay the wind and drift came down, shutting out everything; but we kept on and reached the depôt, leaving a note in case a relief party came up. Each of us carried back a load of oil, or of mending material for repairing sledging gear.

On our way back we saw the rays of the sun over the tops of the hills, and this made us feel very cheerful.

August 14.—Blowing hard all night, but eased in the forenoon. Priestley managed to pick the brain out of one of the frozen seal carcases. I walked up the ridge at the back of the hut and had the first view of the sun. He was shining through a pink haze of drift and looked lovely. We stood blinking at each other for some time and then a frozen nose sent me home.

​August 15.—Being a fine morning we decided to bring the iron runner sledge over from Arrival Bay. Of course as soon as we started the wind came down on us again, but the drift was not so thick as before. I foolishly did not put on a helmet, and my cheeks, nose, and chin 'went' rather badly, taking a long time to come round, though Priestley and Abbott helped to thaw it out for me. This evening our other sledge is completely buried.

August 20.—My birthday, and as it was my day on as cook, the others relieved me and I spent a lazy day.

It has been blowing for the last two days, with open water, but last night the wind eased for a few hours, and immediately ice formed all over the bay.

Our birthday ration to-night consists of two biscuits, twenty raisins, six lumps of sugar each, strong tea, and liver hoosh, As usual we finished up with a sing-song.

August 28.—The wind dropped last night after blowing hard since the 20th, and we put in a good day carrying blubber and meat up from the ice foot. There was a cold breeze and I got my nose and feet frozen. We are all suffering much from frostbitten feet, as our ski boots are pretty well worn out and their soles are full of holes.

In the evening Abbott came running in for my glasses as he saw something that looked like a sledge party on the piedmont, but as usual this proved a false alarm.

August 31.—Calm and very cold since the 28th. We had our last stick of chocolate till we start sledging, but to-morrow we start one biscuit a day each. We have been all this month without biscuit and have felt none the ​worse, so evidently a seal meat and blubber diet is healthy enough. Strangely enough we do not get tired of it.

From the top of the hill I could see sea ice on the horizon, but the bay remains open.

September 5.—A very heavy gale has been blowing since the first, keeping all hands inside the hut. We have had an epidemic of enteritis which is hard to account for, as we are eating seal meat that has never seen the sun, but I think the 'oven' or tin we thaw the meat out in may have had something to do with it, so we have condemned it.

It is a great pity getting this a few weeks before starting sledging, as it is making us all so weak.

September 6.—A great improvement in the public health due to Levick's wisely curtailing the hoosh. I have been the least affected, but Browning and Dickason are still very bad. I hope this may be the end of it, as we are still all weak, and for the first time in the winter there has been a general gloom. The weather has been vile, but improved to-day.

September 11.—The best day we have had yet, bright and clear with a light westerly wind. Priestley and I went over to the depôt moraine to look at the geological specimens and put them round the bamboo mark, but found they had been buried in a drift, and after digging all day had to come away without them. On our way back we dug out the sledges, which had been nearly buried. When we got back we found Abbott and Dickason had been all round the coves after seals, but without success.

We are still short of sledging meat, having only five bags ​of cut-up meat, and we shall require eight. The allowance will be two mugs per day for each man, and each bag contains forty-two mugs, or one week's meat for each tent.

A thin scum of ice formed over the bay, but even if the sea ice did form now I should not trust it for sledging.

September 12.—Overcast and low drift. I am repairing Levick's sleeping-bag and putting a new flap on my own; a slow job when one has to work by the light of a blubber lamp.

September 13.—Browning and Dickason saw a seal with a fish in its mouth, but he would not come up on the ice. These two are still very bad with diarrhœa, and we are giving them fresh-water hoosh to see if that does any good.

September 14.—Browning was very bad in the night. I wish we had a change of diet to give him. He has been ill, off and on, for five months now and has been very cheerful through it all. Priestley and Dickason are also down with enteritis but are not so bad. We have some Oxo and I shall try Browning on this before sledging. The rest of us are feeling fairly fit. At the beginning of this month we started Swedish exercises, and will keep it up until we start sledging, as our leg muscles have shrunk to nothing. As the hut is not nearly 6 feet high we are obliged to do these exercises and all our other work without standing upright, and this has given rise to what we called the 'Igloo Back,' which is caused by the stretching of the ligaments round the spine and is very painful.

September 17—A fine morning. Priestley and Abbott went over to the moraine depôt to dig for the specimens, while Dickason and I dug out the sledges, which had been ​buried again. After a hard day's work we got our sledges clear, and brought up the tent poles to shorten and repair for sledging. Getting back late we heard that Priestley had found a seal, which he and Browning killed and cut up. There has been great rejoicing to-night, for this will complete our sledging provisions. We served out an extra biscuit for supper. The fine day has made us all impatient to start.

September 19.—Snowing all day, but we had plenty of work to do in the hut, sewing bags and repairing sledge gear. The sea is freezing over again.

September 20.—Priestley and Abbott went over to the depôt moraine to dig for the precious specimens, the rest of us sewing or cutting up meat for the journey. In the afternoon I walked over and joined Priestley. I found them very disappointed, having been digging all day without success. I thought they were digging too far to the westward, so I tried sinking pits at the east end of the drift, and after about half an hour's work, found the specimens. We carried them all to the moraine and stacked them round the bamboo mark. We got back late and found the others cutting up the last bag of sledging meat.

Served out one biscuit and six lumps of sugar each and had seal's brain in the hoosh.

September 21.—A fine morning; Levick and Abbott dug out the last sledge, but had to come back in the afternoon, as it came on to snow and blow hard. I got noon sights for time and found my watch had kept a fairly even rate, which was satisfactory.

​September 24.—We were able to start carrying meat, &c., down to the sledges to-day as it was fine. The weather the two previous days had been very bad. Browning has had another acute attack of dysentery and we cannot march until he is better.

On my way back from the sledges I saw some fresh guano on the sea ice, and looking about saw an Emperor penguin. I killed it and we carried it up to the hut; I hope it may do Browning good, as the seal meat certainly does not agree with him. We are all ready to start now as soon as he is fit to walk, but it is blowing a gale to-night.

September 27.—Still blowing, but clear. We found two seals up under the lee of some pressure, and killed one for extra meat; the other was the first we have been able to let go since the last autumn.

September 28.—Strong south-west wind and overcast in the morning, clearing and coming out finer in the late noon. Priestley saw six Emperors. We got five of them. I was very glad to get these, as they seem to agree with Browning much better than seal. He has been bad again and is getting pessimistic about himself.

September 29.—Overhauled the sledge runners, scraping and waxing them. We also carried down all the equipment that was ready. We are taking the 12-ft. sledge and the 10-ft., the latter being fitted with iron runners, which will be a great help on sea ice. The weather was overcast, with north-west wind.

September 30.—A calm morning. As Dickason and Browning were both better we abandoned the igloo after breakfast. Carrying down the rest of our gear occupied ​four of us most of the day, and I left the two sick men in the hut, cleaning the cookers, until the last load.

It came on very thick with snow in the afternoon and it was 6.30 p.m. before we pulled out. Snow drifts made the pulling heavy and by 8.30 we had only pulled a mile, and as we were all pretty tired after our long day's carrying we camped. Dickason was bad in the night, but we are all very cheerful at being on the march again, and the change from the dirt and dark of the igloo will do us all good. Our sledging rations also seemed sumptuous, the daily ration per man being:

At the commencement of the winter we had some spare wind clothing, sweaters, mits, and underclothing, which we had landed from the ship. This I put on one side for the journey down and only issued it before leaving the igloo. There was not enough of everything to go round, but by making the clothes into lots and drawing for them we all got something. To keep them clean we only changed into them just before leaving the igloo, but the luxury of getting into dry clean clothing after the greasy rags we discarded was indescribable. We had been in the same clothes for nine months, carrying, cooking, and handling blubber, and all our garments were black and soaked through and through with grease. We were fairly well off for paraffin as we had only used the primus to cook our morning hoosh. Dickason's generosity in volunteering to work ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/245 ​the primus always had also made a lot of difference, as he handles the stove with more economy than any other of us.

October 1.—We turned out at 5.30 a.m. The morning was still and overcast, but with the sun trying to break through. We got away by 7, but made slow progress, finding the drifts very heavy. My unit consisted of Priestley, Dickason, and myself, with the 12-ft. sledge, and as Levick had the iron runner sledge we had the heavier load. We had to relay most of the day, as Dickason could pull very little and Browning not at all. In fact the latter had to rest constantly, so our progress was slow, and by lunch time we had only made 2½ miles. Our supply of oil would not run to hot lunch, so we had a cold lunch sitting under the lee of the sledge. Before leaving the igloo we had cooked some seal steaks over the blubber fire, but when examined in the light of day these looked so filthy and distasteful, that we discarded them in favour of shreds of raw penguin and seal.

The walking had made both Dickason and Browning much worse, so I had to camp at 6.30 p.m., having only done 5 miles. We are all very tired, but in good spirits at leaving the dirt and squalor of the hut behind. A lovely evening and every appearance of a fine day to-morrow.

October 2.—A fine morning when we turned out at 5.30. The surface was rather better and we did not have to relay, but it was all we could do to move the sledges. About 11 o'clock we got on to a blue ice surface and worked our way through a loose moraine. A bitter wind from the plateau got up about noon, bringing drift ​that in the squalls was so thick one could not see more than a few yards. The wind was fair, however, and we raced along over the blue ice until we suddenly came to a huge crevasse barring our passage. We proceeded cautiously along its edge to the eastward until we found a place where it was snow-bridged, and then leaving the sledges with Levick and Browning, the rest of us roped up and went across, testing it with our ice-axes as we advanced.

The snow bridge was 175 paces across, and except for one place on the weather side it seemed perfectly safe. I should like to have stayed and examined it, as from its width it had more the appearance of an inlet of the sea ending in a wide crevasse, but the gale was rising and the drifting snow so thick I thought it best to get the sledges across and push on; the surface was good the other side, and with the gale behind us, we raced along, trusting to the wind to steer by, as it was impossible to see where we were going.

The pace was too much for poor Browning, who was very bad again, and we had to camp at 5.30, having done about 8·5 miles. Dickason, I am thankful to say, is better and was able to pull to-day.

The wind dropped after supper, leaving us a lovely but a very cold evening.

October 3.—A very cold night, the wind getting up again at 3 a.m. and bringing drift. Levick had trouble with his primus and we did not get away till nine a.m. Soft snowdrifts made the going very slow and heavy, until just before noon, when we got on ice again among ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/251 ​rocks. These we examined, but found no sandstone. The drift was very thick, and, about 2, getting on undulating broken ice, I thought it advisable to pitch one tent, lunch, and wait for the weather to clear. About 3.30 the wind became rather worse, so we pitched the other tent and camped, the distance covered in the day being 3 miles. Browning looked very bad, but Dickason's condition is still improving.

October 4.—Blowing hard, with blinding drift. We delayed breakfast until 9 a.m., hoping it would clear, but as there was no improvement in the weather we turned in again, and as we were not marching we went on half rations of biscuit. Very cold.

October 5.—Turned out at six to find a slight improvement, so had breakfast; but before we finished the wind and drift came down on us again as bad as ever, so that there was nothing for it but to coil down in our bags and wait. About noon the weather improved and we were off. The surface soon changed for the better and we made good way through some more scattered moraines which came from the Reeves Glacier. We noticed a marked open water sky to our left and front and pulled on till 6 p.m., hoping to make the inlet, as we wanted salt ice for the hoosh, but without attaining our object. It is impossible to pull longer, as the days are still short and we have no candles. We have made about six miles.

October 6,—We turned out at 5.45 to find the weather thick, but blue sky to the northward. We were back on a snow surface again, so we took the precaution of waxing the runners, with good results.

​It was warm work pulling through the soft snow and we were glad to stop for lunch. We could make out the edge of the piedmont quite plainly, but could see nothing of the inlet until about 2 p.m., when we saw the mouth of it. A broad open-water lead several miles wide seemed to extend right along the barrier edge, but in the inlet itself the sea was frozen over. The snow was soft and the pulling very heavy, so it was 6 o'clock before we reached camp, on the north side of the inlet, about fifty yards from the cliff. Several seals and penguins were up on the sea ice, while snowdrifts gave us an easy road down from the barrier. The surface of the piedmont was broken by small crevasses here, one running right under the tent. We all enjoyed our salt-water hoosh and turned in very tired. Browning rather better, Dickason quite recovered. A lovely evening. Distance 8·5 miles.

October 7.—A beautiful morning after a comparatively warm night. We were away soon after 8, down the snowdrift slope and over a tide crack 4 ft. wide. The sea ice proved very heavy going, as it was covered with deep crusted snow through which we had a job to move the sledges. We saw rather an amusing incident here. A number of seals were lying along the tide crack, and just after we had crossed we saw one more struggle up on the ice and go to sleep with her tail within a few inches of the tide crack. She had hardly gone to sleep when a head came cautiously up, saw her, dipped down again, then coming cautiously up again, bit her hard. The poor beast squealed, hit at her assailant several times ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/255 ​with her tail and wriggled off as fast as she could across the ice, but the practical joker did not follow up the attack.

Beyond a stiff pull in deep snow we had no difficulty in getting our sledges up the snow drift and on the south cliff. Once on top we were troubled with a rather deep crusted snow surface, with long undulations which were fairly hard and good going on the summits, but with deep soft snow in the valleys. Curious conical mounds of blue ice showed up here and there. These are survivals, I imagine, of the séracs and icefalls visible on our right hand where the David Glacier flows down from the mountains, making a big disturbance. To avoid these we had to steer in a south-easterly direction. The day was fine but cold and we were all in good spirits, as even if we could not get down to Cape Evans by the sea ice, we could make certain of getting plenty of food here. Distance about 6 miles.

October 8.—Bright sun but cold westerly wind with low drift when we turned out at 5.30. We were away by 8 and the going was much the same as yesterday, only the ice hummocks were more numerous and the undulations steeper. In the afternoon the sun went behind nimbus haze and the light got very bad indeed, and was the cause of us nearly coming to grief. The snow was very wind-blown and slippery on the top of the undulations, but soft in the hollows, and we had been racing down the slopes to help us through the soft snow. Soon after 4 the light got so bad we could not see where we were stepping, and when well on our way down one of these slopes, I thought I saw a crevasse in front, so swung ​the sledge, and was going ahead to reconnoitre, when I found we were on the edge of a steep slope about 20 ft. high, which went sheer down into a barranca. We had to get the sledges up the slippery slope again—no easy job—and try round. After about a mile we found a place we could cross, but the delays of roping up to prospect made our day's march small. Dickason is bad again. I suppose it must be the heavy pulling. Distance 6 miles. The weather thick, with slight snow.

October 9.—I turned out to look at the weather at 4 a.m. and found it snowing and so thick I could only just see the other tent.

By 7 it was better though still thick, so after breakfast we started and steered a more easterly course to try and get out of this broken country. The light and surface were vile, while a cold westerly wind did not improve matters. We found ourselves in country just as bad, so steered due south and went straight ahead, but even going as cautiously as we could we nearly repeated yesterday's experience, stopping the sledge just in time on the edge of the cliff and having to work back up the slope and round. The wind had increased to a gale with drift to add to our discomfort. About 4 o'clock, however, the sun came out, the wind eased, and we got into better country. Just before camping, from the top of one of the ridges I got a view of the coast line south of the Drygalski, and the sea ice in Geikie Inlet, so I hope the worst of the Drygalski is past. Dickason is much better, but Browning is very bad again. We camped soon after 6, all very tired. Distance 6 miles.

​October 10.—Turned out at 5 a.m. to find a lovely day with bright sun but a cold wind. At 7.30 just after starting a low drift got up and the wind was freshening but bitterly cold—so cold in fact that at lunch-time we only stopped long enough to eat some frozen meat and blubber, and then were off again over these endless undulations that give one the impression of always going up hill. At last on one of the undulations we saw sea ice to the southward, and a few minutes afterwards Dickason pointed to a white mass, looking like a cloud, which I made out to be Mount Erebus. While crossing another long undulation about three-quarters of a mile across, we came to a cliff barring our passage, but by bearing to the east, we found a place where we could cross the big crevasse that lay in front of it by a snow drift. The crevasse was about 10 yards wide, but well bridged. Once on top we saw the sea ice below us and about a mile and a half ahead. The drift, which had been blinding in the squalls, now cleared and we had a good view.

The sea ice seemed fast as far as we could see in all directions, and this was a great relief to us. The Drygalski had not been so formidable as I expected, in spite of the broken ice; we only broke through into a few crevasses, although I have no doubt there are plenty there.

They are well bridged after the winter. We had no trouble in getting down to the sea ice, as hard snow drifts completely hid the south cliff. At 6 p.m. we camped, all tired but very pleased at having the Drygalski behind us and good sea ice in front. We had an extra biscuit and a stick of chocolate to celebrate the occasion. The night ​was very cold but fine. We have crossed to the westward of David's route.

I think distance about 7 miles.

October 11.—Westerly wind with heavy drift, and very cold. As there was no improvement after breakfast we turned in again. About 2 p.m. a solitary Emperor penguin came and called outside the tent. We went outside and killed and butchered him; his heart and liver are in the hoosh pot as I write this. The remainder of his flesh, which is not bad raw when it is frozen, we cut up into thin strips to eat on the march. It was very cold work cutting him up in the wind.

The sun came out and the wind and drift eased in the evening, so Abbott and I re-packed the sledges, securing the wooden one on top of the iron-runner sledge. We find this the best arrangement for sea ice, although the resultant load is rather top-heavy. It was very cold and we got our hands very badly frostbitten.

October 12.—A cold wind but clear when we turned out at 4.30 a.m.

We were off before 7 over a fair surface. Soon after lunch we had some trouble with pressure ice, resulting in one upset. A lovely evening when we camped that night, Erebus and Melbourne both being in sight. Browning was better but still had bad cramping pains in his stomach. Distance 11 miles.

October 13.—A disappointing day, overcast, light northerly airs, and not much pressure, but a very heavy drag through deep crusted snow. We were all very tired when we camped. Distance 7 miles. We passed a track ​which at first we thought had been left by a sledge but afterwards proved to be that of a seal.

October 14.—The weather was much the same to-day as yesterday, but the surface was better. We pulled in shore to avoid heavy pressure which ran across our bows. A haze of snow crystals obscured the land, and this made the journey tedious and we were glad to camp, having done about 10 miles, but not I fear half that on our course. The prevailing ridges run about N.N.E.

October 15.—A fine morning, but cold wind from south. We turned out at 4.45 and for the first two hours made good progress. The sun came out quite hot and the wind dropped in the middle of the day, so that we were able to spend an hour over lunch. The mirage was wonderful, the pressure to the southward being seen inverted in the sky.

We came across more tracks, which I think must be seal. It is curious that we have seen no animals; I can only account for it by presuming that this is old ice with no cracks. Soon after 4 we had to cross pressure ridges, for though we had been dodging them since lunch, they now became so high we had to camp and re-pack sledges. We shall have to relay the sledges to-morrow, taking them over one at a time.

Distance about 10 miles, but not half that on our course. A clear but cold evening.

October 16.—I suppose every now and then we swallow a bit of bad meat, and whether from that reason or some other, I was very bad last night with cramp and pains in the stomach, and this morning I am feeling cold ​and sick. Levick gave me some medicine that put new life into me. We have had a wearisome day of relaying, with frequent upsets, and have been cutting a path through high and heavy pressure ice, half hidden under a soft snow into which we fell and floundered about.

At 5.30 the light was so bad that I camped. Distance perhaps 3 miles, but it is impossible to gauge accurately with this sort of travelling.

October 17.—Turned out at 5.15 to find snow falling, and by the time we had finished breakfast a southerly gale was blowing, with heavy drift, and it was impossible to march, so we turned in and spent the day in our bags.

October 18.—The wind dropped in the night and the sky cleared about 6, leaving a fine day. We have had another heavy day's work relaying over bad pressure, but yesterday's rest has done us all a lot of good and we went at it quite fresh. We saw the Nordenskiöld ice tongue ahead miraged up and looking quite close. About 5 p.m. we came to the end of this infernal pressure, and saw smooth surface between us and the tongue end, and by 6.30 camped on the smooth ice. I had noticed a seal up about a mile west of us as we were relaying over the last of the pressure, so after we had camped I went away on ski to look for him.

After going about 2 miles I struck his tracks and followed them till they disappeared down a hole. Through the seal hole I tried to feel the lower edge of the ice but was unable to do so. I take it therefore that the ice must be at least 3 feet thick. This smooth surface we are on must be due, I think, to the current coming up under the ​Page:Scott's Last Expedition, Volume 2.djvu/263 ​Nordenskiöld, causing this part of the sea to freeze over late in the season.

A cold evening with slight snow. Approximate distance 6 miles.

October 19.—A fine morning but colder. We turned out at 3.30, and after breakfast Levick, Abbott, and Browning went to the seal hole while we packed and started the sledges. They were successful this time and caught the seal asleep by the hole, and soon had him cut up and packed on one of the sledges. At 10 we stopped for lunch. The day was lovely for marching, being clear and cold, but the surface was vile; no pressure, but soft sandy snow. We halted for a second lunch of raw seal at 3.30 p.m. Levick, Abbott, and Browning like it, the rest of us do not. We camped at 6.15, all very tired. Distance 9 miles. A lovely evening.

October 20.—A lovely morning, clear, calm, and cold. A stiff pull over a heavy surface brought us to the foot of the cliff of the Nordenskiöld ice tongue. The cliff here is about 50 feet high and very much indented. A few miles to the east a deep bay or inlet ran in to the southward.

A steep snowdrift enabled us to get on the ice tongue, but we had to unpack the sledges and carry most of the gear up, after hauling the sledges up to the top with the Alpine rope, as it was so steep.

We camped on the top at about 5 p.m. Priestley, Levick, and I then roped up and went on to see what the going was like for the next day.

We found long shallow undulations, and as far as we could see no crevasses. We shall cross it a long way ​inside David's route. Curiously enough, there was hardly any tide crack between the sea ice and the tongue.

Several seals were in sight, but we did not kill any, as I am sure we shall get any amount south of this tongue. The tongue seems to be ice to within 2 feet of the top and the surface is rather a soft snow. Distance 6 miles.

October 21.—Turning out at 5.30 a.m. we depôted all unnecessary gear and started considerably lighter. Should we have to turn back we can always pick this depôt up easily. The day was lovely, but rather warm for pulling, and the surface soft but not bad going. We came across no crevasses and by 3.30 ran down an easy slope to the sea ice. The snow on the latter was rather deep. We lashed the wooden runner sledge on the one with the iron runners and pulled on till about 6, when we camped.

October 22.—A nice morning, but soon after starting a cold southerly wind got up, resulting in several frostbitten noses. We were travelling over pressure well hidden by soft snow. In the afternoon we had some excitement seeing a dark conical object ahead, much the same shape as a tent. As Browning was rather bad, we left him with Dickason and Abbott to rest with the sledges, while Levick, Priestley, and I went on to look at it, but after going about a mile we made it out to be some black grit blown on to a conical piece of ice. On returning to the sledges we pulled in shore to try and get a better surface, but had to camp at 5 p.m. as Browning was so bad. Distance about 6 miles. We are about 1 mile from land, which appears to be low ice-covered foothills.

​October 23.—I was bad in the night and did not wake till 6.30. The day was warmer, but I feel very cold and rather weak and slack. The light was bad, but we made fair progress. Passed inside a number of stranded bergs evidently broken off from the piedmont. About 4 p.m. we saw a seal near a stranded berg and we camped early, in order to kill and cut him up. There were tracks of several more near the berg, so I think we are coming to the land of plenty. A brain and liver hoosh did us all good. We are all feeling slack and stale. Distance 6 miles. We had to reduce to two biscuits per day owing to slow progress.

October 24.—A lovely morning, clear and calm with a few clouds over the mountains. While we were packing the sledges Browning went to the seal hole, but there were none up. The surface was heavy crusted snow with belts of pressure. During the day we passed a large number of stranded bergs and any amount of seals up round them, many of them with young.

Our route lay along a piedmont, evidently aground, judging by the steep slopes and crevasses in places. Soon after 4 p.m. we opened out a wide bay which I made out to be Tripp Bay. After this the surface improved. After camping, Levick and Abbott killed and cut up a seal.

There was a curious line of stranded bergs and pressure running parallel to the coast and about two miles off, which looks as if there might be a shoal there. Our distance to-day about 7 miles.

October 25.—Both Dickason and I had a bad night, ​and I felt very cold when I turned out at about 5 a.m. We soon got warm, however, for the snowdrifts between the pressure were awful. We made out Tripp Island at the head of the bay in the afternoon. It has been a very tiring day, and as Browning was rather bad we camped at 4.30. Distance 7 miles.

October 26.—A fine morning. We started away after breakfast with both sledges, while Priestley went into the bay on ski to look at Tripp Island and see if Professor David had left his depôt of rocks there. We knew he had depôted the specimens on some island on the coast, but did not know which.

The surface had improved, so the rest of us were able to get the sledges along at a fair pace and it was noon before Priestley caught us up. He had seen nothing of the depôt, but collected some rock specimens himself. By 5 p.m. we were off another little island on the top of which I made out a bamboo with my glasses. We pulled in and camped under the north end. We had a hard struggle over the pack, but within a few hundred yards of land we found a smooth lead up and down the coast. After this we made a point of keeping close to the coast line on our journey, and it certainly paid us, in spite of the extra mileage. After hoosh Priestley and I climbed to the top of the island and collected Professor David's specimens, also some letters his party had left in a tin, addressed to Mrs. David, Dr. Mawson, Lieutenant Shackleton, and to Commanding Officer, S.Y. Nimrod. We brought all these down and packed them on the sledge. When I got back to camp Levick came to me ​about Browning's condition. He was getting very anxious about him, suspecting organic trouble. I suggested his and Browning's remaining at Granite Harbour with all the gear, while the rest of us pushed on with a light sledge to get provisions from Butter Point, where we knew there would be a small depôt, but Levick thought it best to bring him on, as, if the trouble was organic, the sooner he could be laid up in a hut the better. We shall therefore push on, putting him on the sledge when he gets tired, and to keep his strength up give him one extra biscuit per day. Seal meat seems to be poison to him. Our distance this day was about 8 miles.

October 27.—A fine morning. Temperature warmer. We got away after breakfast, keeping inside Depôt Island and getting beautiful smooth ice nearly clear of snow, which lasted to Cape Ross, where we had to cross bad pressure ridges off the cape. The ridges were so bad we had to cut passages for the sledges with ice axes. We had smooth ice again to Cape Gregory, which is now an island, and we were able to make our way through the strait between Gregory Island and the piedmont; after this we again struck a heavy surface. We were now in Granite Harbour. After pulling 2 miles through the deep snow we camped. Distance about 12 miles. The changes in the face of the piedmont are rather interesting. In 1902 Depôt Island was charted a point by the Discovery. By 1909 it had turned into an island and was named accordingly by Professor David. David reported Gregory Point a cape in 1909 and it is now (1912) an island.

​We saw rock outcropping from the piedmont at various places, and no doubt these exposures will be points or islands at some near period in the future. Priestley collected specimens everywhere he could. We saw an enormous quantity of seals and young up, so this is evidently a great breeding-place.

October 28.—A fine morning; we made fair progress over a snow surface. We had to make a détour into the bay to avoid pressure. A cold wind sprang up in the afternoon, and my nose, which had got very sunburnt all the morning, promptly froze, and when thawed out was very painful. We camped about 6 p.m. two miles north of Cape Roberts. No seals were up on the south side of the bay. Distance 10 miles. No sign of the ship or of Debenham's party.

October 29.—Turned out at 4.30 a.m. A fine day, but a bank of cloud to the south and a cold westerly wind. A two hours' march brought us to Cape Roberts, where I saw through my glasses a bamboo stuck on the top of the cape. Leaving the sledges, Priestley and I climbed the cape, when we found a record left by the Western Party last year before they were picked up, and giving their movements, while near by was a depôt of provisions they had left behind. We gave such a yell the others ran up the slope at once. It seemed almost too good to be true.

We found two tins of biscuits, one slightly broached, and a small bag each of raisins, tea, cocoa, butter, and lard. There were also clothes, diaries, and specimens from Granite Harbour. I decided to camp here and have a ​day off. Dividing the provisions between the two tents, we soon had hoosh going and such a feed of biscuit, butter, and lard as we had not had for 9 months, and we followed this up with sweet, thick cocoa. After this we killed and cut up a seal as we are getting short of meat and there is every prospect of a blizzard coming on.

Levick and Abbott saw a desperate fight between two bull seals to-day. They gashed each other right through skin and blubber till they were bleeding badly.

We had another hoosh and more biscuit and lard in the evening; then we turned into our bags and, quite torpid with food, discussed our plans on arriving at Cape Evans. We had quite decided we should find no one there, for we believed the whole party had been blown north in the ship, while trying to reach us. Still discussing plans we fell asleep. What with news from the main party and food (although both were a year old) it was the happiest day since we last saw the ship. I awoke in the night, finished my share of the butter and most of my lard, then dozed off again.

October 30.—The blizzard never came off. We turned out to find a beautiful warm morning. After another big feed of biscuits and a brain-and-liver hoosh we started in the highest spirits. The change of diet has done Browning good already. I took all the books, food, specimens, and records of Taylor's party, leaving only the old clothes.

I also left a note saying we were all well. The surface was fairly good with occasional belts of rough pressure ice that delayed us considerably. Taylor's journal ​speaks of Glacier Tongue having broken away from MacMurdo Sound and grounded on the coast south of Dunlop Island. It will be interesting to see if it is still there. At midday we camped for lunch, and the hot tea and biscuit made a great difference to our marching. This was the first hot lunch we had had and we all appreciated it. Between 5 and 6 the pressure was very bad; not high, but jagged and continuous, bruising our feet. Luckily we had the iron-runner sledge. Wooden runners would have been torn to shreds. Camped at 6.15. Distance 8 miles. Dunlop Island in sight about 3 miles ahead.

October 31.—A lovely morning. The south-west breeze of the night had dropped and the day felt warm. We suffered the same painful surface until within a mile of Dunlop Island, when we reached a smooth surface. We lunched on the north side of Dunlop Island. After lunch we searched it for records, but found nothing. Priestley collected some specimens. Resuming our march we got on to smooth ice between Dunlop Island and the mainland and kept a good surface until we camped at 6.15, half-way across the 'Bay of Sails.' Distance 11 miles: Mt. Erebus rising to the height of several thousand feet.

November 1.—5 a.m. A fine morning with heavy clouds to the south. We had a good surface and made good progress. Priestley collected from Cape Gneiss and Marble Point. We lunched at the latter cape, and at 3.45 we reached Cape Bernacchi, where we collected the remainder of Taylor's depôt, three-quarters of a tin of ​biscuits, one bag of pemmican, and ditto of sugar, raisins, tea, and cocoa. The pemmican and raisins were most acceptable, as we had finished ours. Priestley collected some specimens and we started away again at 4.30, across pressure towards Butter Point. At 6 p.m. we camped about 1 mile south of Cape Bernacchi with smooth ice ahead.

We are certainly having the most lovely weather, clear, calm, and cold enough to make marching a pleasure. A large number of seals and young up.

November 2.—5 a.m. A fine morning. Got away early over good snow surface, reaching Butter Point at 2.30. There was a good deal of pressure off the point, so leaving the sledges on the good ice we walked the half-mile to the depôt. We had been seeing a large number of seals and young since Granite Harbour, but just off Butter Point the number was extraordinary.

Getting up to the depôt we found an enormous quantity of stores, also a note from Atkinson saying he had tried to relieve us last April but had found no ice beyond this spot. As there was no further message we were anxious for the safety of this party, as we know how unreliable the autumn ice is. As to what had happened it was hopeless trying to speculate. This had upset all our theories and I had a vague feeling something was wrong.

I therefore decided to leave one tin of biscuits here and get right across the sound as soon as possible. Taking a few luxuries such as chocolate and jam, we went back to the sledges and pulled in a south-east direction until ​about 7 p.m., when we camped. Distance 14 miles. Weather fine. The latter part of our march we were delayed by pressure ridges running north and south.

November 3.—5.15 a.m. Weather overcast, surface good, with belts of heavy pressure, the ridges running north and south. Some of the smooth ice had struck me as being rather new ice. At 11.30 our iron-runner sledge broke down hopelessly, one side coming off. We had a hasty lunch, packed the sleeping-bags, records, and a little fresh food on the other sledge, depôted all the remainder, and then started on again. The smooth-ice leads between the pressure were suspiciously dark and greasy-looking, so after going about half a mile we sounded with an ice axe and found we were on thin soft ice, which cannot have been much more than a day or two old. Turning the sledge we went back at a run, not stopping until we got on to better ice by the old sledge. Taking the rest of the food we then started W.S.W. towards the Eskers. Several leads were so new we had to cross them at a run, and it was 7.30 before we found sound ice, with no weak leads between us and the shore, and then I decided to camp.

November 4.—Weather overcast and warm. We turned out at 4.30, and after breakfast Priestley, Abbott, and Dickason went back with the empty sledge to get the remainder of the depôt, and if possible fit on the iron runners, while Levick, Browning, and I went back with packs to get more food. We had a long tramp to Butter Point and back over rough ice, and we had done 18 miles before we got back to camp, Levick and I with a 50-lb. ​pack and Browning with a smaller one, as he had not quite recovered.

The change in Browning's condition owing to the biscuit is marvellous.

A week ago he could just walk by the sledge on a march of 8 or 10 miles; to-night, although tired, he is none the worse for his 18-mile walk. We found Priestley and his party had already arrived with the rest of the depôt when we got back, and to my great joy he had been able to fit the iron runners on to the 12-ft. sledge.

November 5.—We turned out at 3.30. A lovely morning, with bright sun. After breakfast we started away, steering for the Dailey Islands, but we were forced to make a détour to the west to avoid rotten ice-leads.

The mirage was extraordinary. At one place we thought we saw three men pulling a sledge; Priestley and I walked towards them; they apparently stopped; Priestley started semaphoring while I looked through my glasses. No result. Suddenly they turned and I saw they were Emperor penguins, miraged up in a way that made them look like figures. These leads of bad ice seemed to run into Blue Glacier, but I thought I could see good ice beyond them, so we raced the sledge straight across, getting over without a mishap. Once over we found old ice behind a pressure ridge, and after crossing that struck the Barrier edge, here about 4 feet high, with snowdrifts leading on to it. A large number of seals and Emperor penguins were on the old ice. Here we lunched. The Barrier edge runs out in a tongue, and we had struck it on the north-west corner. We were thus able to steer ​direct for Hut Point over the tongue. At 5 p.m. we came up to the pinnacled ice lying on the east side of the tongue.

This pinnacled ice is very rough and gritty and is evidently the remains of an old moraine of the Koettlitz Glacier. By skirting to the north of this we found a lane of old sea ice on which we could travel until we had passed it. Enormous crowds of Emperors were here. In one bunch I estimated there were about 300. After travelling about 6 miles on this old ice the pinnacled ice gave out and we were able to head for Hut Point again over the Barrier. I had hoped to get into Hut Point the same night, so camped for hoosh at 6.30. Resuming our march we went on till 1 a.m., when I found we were still 7 miles off. I therefore camped, had some cocoa, and turned in. We had done a good march, twenty-one hours since we turned out, and had we been able to hold a straight course we should have easily got in.

November 6.—Another fine morning. We marched till 1 p.m., when our sledge broke down, the whole runner coming off. As we were only 1 mile from Hut Point, I camped. Priestley, Dickason, and I walked in to look for news and get another sledge, as I was sure some would be there.

As we neared the Point we noticed fresh tracks of mule and dogs.

I pointed them out to Priestley, and said, 'I hope there is nothing wrong with the Pole party, as I do not like the look of these.' He said, 'No more do I.' We ran up to the hut and found a letter from Atkinson to the 'Commanding Officer, Terra Nova.' I opened this and learnt the sad ​
Lieut. Campbell's Party on their return to Cape Evans ​news of the loss of the Polar Party. The names of the party were not given, and finding Atkinson in charge of the search party which had started, I was afraid two units, or eight men, were lost. Finding a sledge only slightly damaged I took that back to the camp, getting back there about 5 p.m.

We were all rather tired, so instead of starting straight on to Cape Evans, we had supper and went to sleep. Before turning in we made a depôt of the broken sledge, all rock specimens, clothes, and food, so as to travel light to Cape Evans. I was very anxious to get there as soon as possible, as I thought there was a chance that there might be one or two mules or enough dogs to enable me to follow the search party. It had been a great disappointment for us to have missed them by a week, as we were all anxious to join in the search.

November 7.—4 a.m. A lovely morning. After a hasty breakfast we were off, arriving at Cape Evans at 5 p.m. We found no one at home, but a letter on the door of the hut gave us all the news and the names of the lost party. Very soon Debenham and Archer returned, giving us a most hearty welcome, and no one can realise what it meant to us to see new faces and to be home after our long winter. Our clothes, letters, &c., had been landed from the ship, and we were able to read our home letters, which we had only time to glance at in the ship in February. Archer provided a sumptuous dinner that night, and we sailed into it in a way that made Debenham hold his breath. A bath and change of clothes completed the transformation.

​November 8.—Weather overcast, with a cold south-easterly wind of medium force. I went round with Debenham and was much surprised at the amount of stores. If we were down for another winter there should be no lack. Our clothes had been landed by the ship. There was nothing we wanted except boots, of which I served out one pair to each.

It was hopeless to think of following the search party, the only transport being a few dogs that had been left behind as they were slow or weak. Atkinson's plans were to push on and search to the top of the Beardmore Glacier unless he found traces of the party before, so there was no hope of catching him. I find our party are not so fit as I thought. Most of us have developed swollen ankles and legs (œdema), and when the flesh is pressed in the holes remain there.

From November 8 till the return of the sledge party we were all very busy transcribing our last winter's diaries, developing photographs, and renewing what of our outfit we were unable to replace.

On the 11th Levick, Abbott, and Dickason left for Hut Point, and the next day but one they returned, bringing with them our records and specimens. They had taken all the provisions left on our broken sledge to Hut Point.

November 25.—A mild blizzard. Priestley and Debenham had arranged to start for Cape Royds to-day, taking Dickason, but decided to wait for better weather.

At 8 p.m. two dog teams with Atkinson, Cherry-Garrard, and Demetri arrived. They had found the ​remains of the Polar Party 11 miles south of 'One Ton Depôt.' Atkinson brought back all their records and personal gear, which I asked him to take charge of personally.

November 26.—I went with Atkinson to Hut Point with a dog team.

It was a fine, clear day, and leaving Cape Evans at noon we got there about 2 p.m. The surface was good and I walked up to the Gap and saw the rest of the party in camp at 'Safety Camp.'

November 27.—The remainder of the party pulled in about 2 a.m., and it was very pleasant meeting them all again. Atkinson and I left them there and returned to Cape Evans, getting in at 5 a.m. next morning.

November 28.—A fine day. The party with the mules arrived at 1 p.m. Although five mules out of seven were brought back we had to shoot two of them, as they refused all food and were in a very bad condition.

We now settled down to routine work and short sledge journeys on Ross Island, and for geological survey work, Priestley and Debenham taking a party up Mt. Erebus.

The ship arrived January 18, just as we were starting to prepare for a third winter.