WITH SCOTT: THE SILVER LINING
[Illustration:
_Photo by Stearn & Sons, Cambridge._]
SLEDGE-MATES AT CAMBRIDGE, NOVEMBER, 1913.
(_Standing_) Debenham and Wright of Caius; (_sitting_) Taylor of
Emmanuel and Priestley of Christ’s.
]
WITH SCOTT:
THE SILVER LINING
BY
GRIFFITH TAYLOR, D.SC., ETC.
WITH NEARLY 200 ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS
LONDON
SMITH, ELDER & CO., 15, WATERLOO PLACE
1916
_All rights reserved_
PRINTED BY
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED
LONDON AND BECCLES
INTRODUCTION
The great adventure of Scott’s last expedition has been given to the
world in the faithful simplicity of the leader’s own words, as they were
set down from day to day. His diaries were but the basis of the book
that should have been written. We have not the half of what he could
have told us. But in another sense, that half is greater than the whole.
Here stand first impressions, not retouched: the ebb and flow of his
hopes and fears, the lights and shadows of the moment, never reviewed in
later perspective after the event; thumbnail sketches of character,
vividly set down; notes of the day which reveal his spirit entering into
the spirit of his men: and at the end, the singleness of heart that
could give all and accept all for one high purpose. I have often liked
to think—surely it is true—that the universal thrill awakened by his
example strung up the soul of the nation unawares for the great call so
soon to be made upon it.
The other half of the picture has been partly filled in. Others have
given the history of outlying explorations with their tale of human
resource and endurance; they have recorded scientific results or
described special branches of natural history in the Antarctic.
Something, however, is still left to be told. No one will forget Captain
Scott’s almost incredulous delight at the goodwill and harmony of his
little company under the trying conditions of Ross Island. It is for Mr.
Griffith Taylor to tell of the daily life of that company from within,
to tell in careless detail its lighthearted cheerfulness lining solid
effort, which the cloud of English earnestness so constantly turns out
upon the night.
The “other side of the shield” is too often a byword for irreconcilable
contradictions. It is not so here. The reader is doubly grateful. He is
grateful for the details of the daily round as it passed in the
explorers’ hut; he is grateful for the sense that new testimony only
bears out former report.
Nor are these personal impressions all, though they extend over a longer
period than that covered in the “Last Expedition.” Mr. Griffith Taylor
also gathers up what has in large measure appeared elsewhere, the story
of his own explorations and much of his general scientific results in
geology and physiography, so that his Antarctic experiences stand
together as a union in thought and action of all that is typified by the
old name and the new, Cambridge and Melbourne, each his Alma Mater.
The book makes its appearance in the midst of a great war, when books
are too often regarded as a first luxury to be cut off. Nevertheless I
hope that many will be able to find in its pages some refreshment of
mind, some relaxation from the long strain, some strengthening of faith
in the latent spirit of the Greater England which has sent its sons from
the four quarters of the world to stand beside the Old Country in the
hour of destiny.
LEONARD HUXLEY.
_February, 1916._
CONTENTS
I
PAGE
GETTING TO KNOW THE MEN 1
II
THE _TERRA NOVA_ GOES SOUTH 19
i. The Geologists visit the New Zealand Glaciers 21
ii. Ship Life in Calm and Storm 30
iii. Learning the Ropes 45
iv. Blocked by the Pack Ice 56
v. Through the Ross Sea 79
vi. Making Winter Quarters at Cape Evans 87
III
FIRST WESTERN EXPEDITION, JANUARY–MARCH, 1911 111
IV
A MONTH IN THE OLD _DISCOVERY_ HUT, MARCH–APRIL, 1911 187
V
IN WINTER QUARTERS WITH CAPTAIN SCOTT, APRIL–NOVEMBER, 1911 211
VI
GRANITE HARBOUR EXPEDITION 329
VII
THE VOYAGE BACK, FEBRUARY–MARCH, 1912 413
VIII
THE END OF THE EXPEDITION 437
APPENDIX 449
INDEX 456
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FULL PAGE PLATES
FACING PAGE
Sledge-mates at Cambridge _Frontispiece_
Officers and Crew, Captain Scott’s Antarctic Expedition,
1910 16
Icing Ship in the Pack on the Starboard Quarter 61
The Norwegian Dinghy or Pram retrieving Birds in the
Pack Ice 61
A Quiet Sunday Evening on the _Terra Nova_ 65
D. Lillie, Ship’s Biologist 66
The Northern Fringe of the Pack Ice showing the Wake of
the Ship through Open Pack 66
Catching the Fish in the Pack 70
Surveying the North Coast of Ross Island from the _Terra
Nova_ 88
Photo from the Ship of Cape Evans 88
The First Hour Ashore 92
Two Motor Sledges on the Beach at Cape Evans 92
Photo of the Hut showing the Ramp and Erebus 106
Penguin Courtship on the Ice-foot near Cape Evans 106
Ship aground on a Reef off Cape Evans close to the
Tunnel Berg 108
Griffith Taylor in Summer Rig (on a keen day) on Cape
Evans 108
Model of Country traversed on First Journey 118
My First Camp in Antarctica at the Snout of the Ferrar
Glacier 126
Photo taken just before we packed the Sledges for the
First Sledge Journey 126
Trying Times on the Koettlitz Glacier 163
Tables of Ice “Mesas” in the Lower Koettlitz cut out of
Thaw-water 163
Alph River cutting through the Moraines and Ancient Ice 189
_Discovery_ Hut 189
Crater Heights, the Gap and Observation Hill as viewed
from the Old _Discovery_ Hut 196
Mount Erebus from the Old _Discovery_ Hut 196
Bowers’ Party adrift on the Sea-ice 198
Over the Hutton Cliffs to test the Sea-ice 207
Captain Scott wearing the Wallet in which he carried his
Sledging Journals 214
Simpson sending up a “Ballon Sonde” 218
The East Corner of the Hut showing the Eddy Trench
scooped out by Blizzards on the Windward Side of the
Hut 218
Captain Scott’s Autograph List for the Aurora Watch 226
Some Antarctic Archives 266
Snowdrift on Cape Evans, showing the Deep Eddy on the
Windward Side 275
Debris Cones on Land’s End (one mile south of the Hut) 275
“Blizzometer Record” during the Search for Atkinson 277
Lakelets of Cape Evans 296
A fine Steam Cloud blowing South from Erebus 307
A Glacieret near Island Lake (C. Evans) due to
Wind-blown Snow 307
Ice-quakes in the Sea-ice 310
The Tide-crack at the North-west Corner of Cape Evans 310
High Cliff and the South End of the Barne Glacier 312
“The Barrier Silence” 313
Bernard Day on the Motor Sledge just before he started
for the South 322
The Start of the Motor Sledges 322
Wilson packing his Pony Sledge the Day before the Start
for the Pole 327
The Hut after the Winter 327
Relief Model of the Region traversed in the Second
Summer 331
The Second Western Party the Day they were picked up by
the Ship 332
A Panorama of Cape Roberts, where the Western Party was
isolated for Three Weeks. Looking North 350
Avalanche Cliffs on the South Side of Granite Harbour 350
The Field of Crevasses (Skauk) at the Foot of Mackay
Tongue 353
Granite Hut, Cape Geology 360
Forde cooking Seal-fry on the Blubber-stove at Cape
Roberts 360
Heavy Sledging off Mackay Tongue just where we tried to
pack to Land 365
The “Half-Ton” after Nelson left us off the Mouth of Dry
Valley 365
A Tight Corner! Crossing the Forty-foot Tide-crack off
Point Disappointment, Granite Harbour 367
The First Western Party in a Natural Ice-tunnel amid the
Pinnacles of the Koettlitz Glacier 380
The Second Western Party at Cape Geology, Granite
Harbour, on Christmas Day, 1911 380
Gran’s Midsummer Bath 392
The Couloirs of Mount England (which develop into Cwms
later) 392
The Rush to Safety: over the Edge of the Blue Glacier 411
Engineer Williams at the Winch 418
Bernard Day on the Capstan 418
A. B. Cheetham, who holds the Record for crossing the
Antarctic Circle 426
G. C. Simpson 426
A very “Ordinary Seaman” 428
Pennell on Bridge 428
Photo of Crew off Akaroa 435
ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT
Block Diagrams illustrating the Basins, Gorges, and
Riegel in the Val Ticino below Saint Gothard 9
Section across Poop of _Terra Nova_ 22
Harbours visited on the Voyage to New Zealand 24
The Cuspate Peaks of Mount Cook and the Matterhorn 25
The Snout of the Tasman Glacier from Sebastopol 26
Glaciers in New Zealand visited in November, 1910, by
the Geologists 27
Looking down the Snout of the Mueller Glacier from the
Stocking 28
Plan of the Deck of _Terra Nova_ 39
Vertical Section of _Terra Nova_ illustrating Incidents
in the Great Storm, January 2–3, 1911 42
Figures of Latitude and Longitude 51
Iceberg Forms 64
Sounding Apparatus 67
Course of _Terra Nova_ through the Antarctic Pack as far
as Cape Evans, Dec. 7, 1910–Jan. 4, 1911 77
Coasting Ross Island, Jan., 1911 81
Life’s Round in the Antarctic 84
Cape Evans from Inaccessible Island 90
Sun-holes 93
Antarctic Spoor 94
Iceberg Equilibrium. The Tilting of the Tunnel Berg
during the Winter, 1911 97
Sketch of Two Grottoes cut in Glacieret near the Hut,
Jan. 15, 1911 102
Sketch Map of Cape Evans, Jan. 21, 1911 107
Geological Sketch by Captain Scott 114
Facsimile (reduced) of Captain Scott’s Sledge
Instructions 122, 123
Geological “Sandwich” near the Dun and Hedley Glaciers 131
Moraine Material at the Taylor Glacier, looking West 135
Crater on the Flank of the Taylor Valley 137
The Avalanche-fed Lacroix Glacier in the Taylor Valley 140
Sketch Section across the Taylor Valley at Suess
Glacier, showing the Nussbaum Riegel which bars it 141
Looking west up the Dry Valley below Taylor Glacier 142
“The Compleat Explorer” 144
“Anarthoclase” Felspar 145
The Age of Rocks above the Taylor Glacier 147
Plan of the bygone _Twin_ Glaciers of Lake Luzern 149
The Morphology of Frozen Ski-boots 154
“My Footgear” 159
Empty Hanging Valley on the North Wall of the Davis
Glacier 161
“How Evans won his Bet” 163
The “Palimpsest” theory. Generalised Sketch Sections
showing the chief types of Valley Erosion 175
Forks for Blubber 176
Map showing our Journey round the Breaking Barrier 178
Sketch Map of the Environs of Hut Point 190
Plan of the rejuvenated _Discovery_ Hut 191
The Blubber Stove in the Old _Discovery_ Hut 193
_Steig-eisen_ 197
The Sackcloth Helmet 200
Blubber-Lamp made from Tin Matchbox 201
Testing the Sea Ice off Castle Rock 205
From Castle Rock to Cape Evans 206
The Two Tents on the Ice-shelf at Little Razorback Isle 208
Plan of Hut, 1911, showing Nicknames and Bunks of
Explorers 212
The Electrical Breadmaker 216
Changes in Wind Direction 217
Simpson’s Clue 218
Simpson’s Instruments 221
The Arch Berg before it fell in and became the Castle
Berg 227
Balloon Meteorograph 234
Evans teaches us to Cobble 253
Temperature Curves 255
Sections of Fossils, Beardmore Glacier 255
Fossil “Sponge-Coral” from the Beardmore Glacier 256
Archeocyathinac Marble set in a Ring 257
Bill’s Nose-nip 262
A Characteristic Portrait in a Bliz! 263
Vertical Temperature Gradient in Hut 263
How we found Midwinter 269
The Night-Watch Supper 274
Lost in the Blizzard 276
The Twin Glaciers 280
The Future Ice-age 281
Reversal of the Steam Banner of Erebus 281
The Mouse-trap Camera 289
The Wind-ridge on Inaccessible Isle with Tracks 294
The Dissected Debris Cone 297
A Peculiar Animal seated on the top of a Debris Cone 298
Book-plate illustrating Polar Clothing 301
Robinson Anemometer 306
Sunshine Recorder 306
“Taylor’s Patent Heel-tips” 308
The Waved Edge of Glacier Tongue 316
The Seal’s Method of rasping away the Ice 317
“Polar Wireless” 318
Ice Crampons 323
Our Water Supply—The Granite Pool at Cape Geology 354
Gomphocephalus, Antarctic “Springtail” 356
Pressure-ridges in the Sea-ice looking West from Cape
Geology to the Punch Bowl Cwm 361
Pulpit Rock, the home of the Sea-kale 370
Ironclad Boots for Antarctic Geologists 373
Looking North-west from Cape Geology, showing the
Granite Cliffs of the Kar Plateau capped by dolorite 374
Gran’s Bête Noire 375
Sketch Map of Region near the Devil’s Punch Bowl 376
Mount Suess Nunatak looking West from Redcliff 383
Sketch Map of Mount Suess Nunatak and Gondola Nunakol 385
“Erratic” perched on Six Small Stones, Gondola Ridge 387
Sketch-diagram of South-west Face of Mount Suess,
showing the Fossil-bearing Beacon Sandstones 389
Gondola Ridge from the top of Mount Suess looking
North-east 391
Sea-kale at 77° 393
Flexure in 30 feet Berg, Cape Roberts 403
Diagram illustrating the Way we managed to “Raise
Anchor” by “Luff upon Luff” 420
Method of fixing Ice Anchor 421
Trimming Coal in the Starboard Main Hold 425
Chart of Bay of Whales 432
Chart of Parties (Amundsen reaches the Pole) 439
Chart of Parties (Scott reaches the Pole) 441
Chart of Parties (the Last Camp) 442
_Glossopteris_ 444
MAPS
1. The Chief Travels of the Sixteen Officers at
Headquarters, Cape Evans, 1911 12
2. Map of Antarctica showing Localities of Recent
Expeditions 37
3. Map of the Coast from Cape Royds to Hut Point _Facing_ 86
4. Physiographic Features of Cape Evans due largely to
the Retreat of the Erebus Glacier 299
5. Return Voyage of the _Terra Nova_ in March, 1912 414
6. Recent and Future Exploration 450
7. Map of the Region traversed on the Western
Journeys, 1911–1912 _At end of text_
I
“GETTING TO KNOW THE MEN”
“GETTING TO KNOW THE MEN”
“Where can I find Dr. Wilson?”
I had just entered the quadrangle of the Biological Schools at
Cambridge, when a door opened quickly, and a well-knit, wiry individual
ran down the steps towards me.
“Which Dr. Wilson?” said he.
“Wilson of Antarctica,” I replied.
With a quizzical smile that I was soon to know well, he returned, “I am
Dr. Wilson.”
It was in this way that I made the acquaintance of the Scientific
Director of the expedition; and in the ensuing conversation at Christ’s
College I learnt the requirements of Captain Scott. But the steps
leading to this Sunday interview were rather amusing to look back on.
On a Saturday afternoon of December, 1909, I had been having tea with
Wright of Caius, and we discussed many topics, such as cancer and
Canada, eugenics and Shackleton. He remarked that he would like to go
with Scott next August, and that he would go if I would! However, we did
not discuss this topic, for I left to dress for the Philosophical
Society’s Dinner at John’s. In the old Combination room were most of the
scientific dons, and Dr. Marr beckoned to me.
“I wanted to see you. Would you like to go with Scott to the Antarctic
as English geologist?” He was pleased to say that my glacial work and
travels suited me for the post. I said I had not thought of it at all.
He added that Dr. Wilson would probably call on me on Sunday, to which I
replied that I had intended to be off to the Alps at 9.30!
I departed, only to fall into Professor Seward’s hands. He asked the
same question; and Hutchinson of Pembroke came up a moment later and
said, “Don’t you think Taylor ought to go to the Antarctic?” I suggested
that I felt as if I were being pushed out into the cold!
I postponed my trip to Grenoble for half a day, and had a long talk with
Wilson. He gave me a letter to Captain Scott, which I presented after my
return from France.
We had a fine trip! Four Australians cycling through the High Alps in
midwinter. When it did not snow it rained—and mostly it did not snow! At
the pass of Croix Haute we had to traverse thirty kilometres of heavy
snow, and later in the Auvergne we found that snow formed quite a good
surface for a bicycle, which discovery nearly led to a fatality in the
Antarctic, as will appear later.
On my return to London a month later (8th January) I called at the
Antarctic offices and had an interview with Captain Scott.
I soon gained an insight into the multifarious occupations of a Polar
commander. The offices of the expedition were in Westminster, at 36,
Victoria Street, halfway between the Abbey and the vast railway station
at Victoria. They were situated in a district peculiarly devoted to the
empire’s interests, for most of the colonies have their representatives
there; and that greatest boon to travellers, the Army and Navy Stores,
is just across the way.
I will try to give some idea of the appearance of the expedition’s
headquarters during the busy months of preparation. In a large room
occasionally sat Captain Scott, but he was usually busy with some
ingenious foodstuffs or patent appliance in one of the other rooms.
Adjacent was the secretary’s office, and there he was to be seen, _inter
alia_, wading through some of the eight thousand applications from eager
souls anxious to get out of the rut by joining the expedition in one
capacity or another. Naturally enough, the names of naval officers were
numerous, both on the staff and among those applying. In fact, the navy
could beat any other team that the expedition could get together at any
game whatsoever. An explorer friend of mine had no great opinion of navy
men, and strongly advised me to learn boxing to uphold the dignity of
science. So I started a boxing club at Cambridge among the scientists,
but we did not know then that navy champions like Parny Rennick and Dr.
Atkinson were to join the expedition. Here let me add that arrogance was
the last attribute of my dear naval friends down South.
In a third room at headquarters were samples of patent foods. One open
tin discloses shrivelled root-like objects about the size of
lead-pencils. This was desiccated rhubarb, and it seemed merely
concentrated sourness in its present state, though it furnished many
dishes at headquarters later on. Cabbages and greens too much resembled
coarse leaf tobacco to be eulogized by a non-smoker. A Cambridge
friend—doing physiological research—was extremely pleased when he heard
I was going South. “Ah,” said he, “you can try my patent food all next
week; you’ll need nothing else for any of your meals, and I can give you
a full supply for the Antarctic.” Owing to various contingencies, the
tin remained unopened, and I left it, with my blessing, for the
landlady.
In another corner of the same room an eager inventor is explaining the
excellences of his patent stove, which burns almost without fuel and is
guaranteed “to produce little or no carbon dioxide”!
Here I first saw Dr. Simpson, who was wrestling with this invention,
which—apart from its chemical peculiarities—seemed suitable for warming
his magnetic hut. The equipment of this mansion seemed to occupy all his
waking thoughts, while his chief exercise seemed to be taken by whirling
sling thermometers.
The other room was almost filled with a huge petty officer who was
sorting gear for the sledges. I looked at his sturdy proportions with
considerable respect, which would have been increased had I known how
invaluable “Taff” Evans was to be on my first expedition in the
Antarctic. An old 1902 sledge was lying in the passage, whose splintered
runners and weather-worn appearance told graphically of the screw-pack
and “bottle-glass” ice it had surmounted in the past.
Captain Scott was busy at first, but I soon had a long talk with him. In
my journal I wrote as follows:—
“Scott is just what I expected, a sturdily built, clean-shaved naval
officer, with plenty of humour and decision. He told me that Mawson was
coming over from Australia immediately. His idea was to have two
geologists on the Erebus side of the Barrier, and one on King Edward
VII. land. The latter party would have wireless if possible. He drew a
moving picture of me wiring signals of wind velocity, etc., to Mawson.
‘Just like old times, a friend at each end,’ said he. Scott is going to
try for the Pole along the old route, I gather, and not _viâ_ King
Edward VII. land. The ship will leave in July and make a long trip _viâ_
Madeira and Kerguelen to enable the men to shake together.”
Lieutenant Campbell was often in and out of the offices. His was an
independent command, and he was collecting his stores and labelling them
with a distinctive broad green band. The cases were made of Venesta—a
patent three-ply material, extremely light and extraordinarily tough.
One could hardly break into them with a pick-axe! They were bound with
iron and made to contain about 40 lbs. weight, to facilitate handling.
The question of Antarctic clothing greatly interested many ladies of my
acquaintance. Some of them, indeed, were so urgent that I should look
into this matter, that I began to get alarmed myself. On inquiry I found
that the fur boots were carefully arranged to go over four pairs of
socks and a layer of senna-grass; which seemed to point to a somewhat
wide margin of safety. Of the Antarctic suits—trousers, jerseys, and
overalls—I was told there was a supply in two sizes—long and short! I
looked at the scientific director as he smilingly gave me this
information, and judged what would fit him would suit me, so that no
measurement was necessary in this class of tailoring.
The first order from Captain Scott concerned the purchase of clothing
for the voyage to New Zealand. For this £8 was allowed by the
Expedition. I told Captain Scott that I was not making the voyage in the
_Terra Nova_, and had a kit of tropical gear already. He remarked with a
twinkle in his eye, “Never mind about that, I dare say you will be able
to spend it on something useful!”
A few days later I went to the West India Dock and saw the _Terra Nova_
for the first time. Here was Lieutenant Evans “merry and bright” from
the start! He was assisting Captain Scott to chalk out cabin spaces on
the deck. In a later section I describe her equipment very fully, so
that there is no need to dwell on it here, save that amongst the large
liners in the dock she had somewhat the appearance of a minnow among the
Tritons. At any rate, the “leviathan” is half as large again as
Shackleton’s _Nimrod_, and if Columbus could board her no doubt he would
feel himself on a Lusitania.
About this time I received a cable offering me a post on the
Commonwealth staff. Through the kindness of the authorities concerned I
was able to hold both positions concurrently; and I went South with a
definite commission to study all the scientific factors—but especially
the meteorology—which might concern Australian interests.
Early in February Mawson came up to Cambridge to stay a few days with
me. We had passed through Sydney University together, and done our early
geological field work under Professor David. We had kept in touch with
each other and had many common friends. During my cycle trip through the
Alps, Glasson (from Adelaide) told me that when any of Mawson’s
acquaintance at Adelaide University wanted chocolate, the explorer would
take an ice-axe and break a lump off the huge block he had looted from
Shackleton’s Expedition! I felt that an expedition of this type had
peculiar attractions for me, but, alas! our chocolate supply was never
on such a prodigal scale.
Mawson gave us a talk at the Research Students’ Club that evening. He
told us many harrowing tales, and glances of pity were bestowed on
Wright and myself by the other members of the club! The next afternoon
he was persuaded to give a lecture in the geological school, so that we
knew a lot more of Antarctic conditions before he left. By this time he
had decided not to accept Scott’s offer of a position on the staff, but
he gave all of us much useful information as to equipment and research.
Two other Cambridge men—both biologists—were appointed to the staff. I
had heard of Lillie’s adventures in the Atlantic, where he had carried
out anatomical dissections with an axe! His subjects were whales, on
which, I take it, ordinary instruments would have had but little effect.
He was a John’s man, while Nelson came from Christ’s. Nelson had been
“down” for some time, working at the Plymouth biological laboratory. I
had heard of him from a friend of mine who had worked there also.
Wright, of Caius, had been a mate of mine for several terms. He was a
leading light in our Peripatetic Club, and was in fact the best walker
among the members. Wright and I heard so much of the prowess of the
naval men in every branch of athletics that we decided to show them that
the scientists had _some_ muscle. One morning we set off from Cambridge
at 5 a.m. with some boiled eggs and chocolate and walked to London,
where we reached St. Paul’s, Islington, at 5 p.m. It was a non-stop
effort, and Wright came through “smiling,” but my feet were so sore that
I could hardly stand next day. My chief recollection is one of loathing
for hard-boiled eggs, and of the relief with which I dropped
three-quarters of our provisions in a secluded corner of King’s Cross!
During the Easter vacation I planned a trip to the Engadine and Como to
study glacial erosion in some detail. I had already spent some months in
this part of the Alps, and wished to gain fresh data on many questions.
A college friend accompanied me. Professor Bonney was kind enough to
give us advice as to the best routes during March, for my previous trips
had been in summer. He also discussed the questions of valley erosion at
some length, and I was glad to hear that they would form the basis for
his presidential address to the British Association at Sheffield. He was
strongly opposed to W. M. Davis’ views on the subject, holding that
_water_ and not _ice_ had cut out most of the Alpine valleys. I had
learnt my glaciology from the eminent American while in the Swiss Alps,
and was naturally Davisian in consequence. However, Antarctica led me to
place more stress on _frost_ action as an eroding agent, so that my
position is now between the two schools!
We had an interesting and useful trip lasting for six weeks. This is
hardly the place to discuss the results of this journey, though in some
sense it belongs to the Expedition, for Captain Scott paid the bulk of
my expenses. I visited for a second time the wonderful valleys north of
Bellinzona, the Val Mesocco to the north-east and the Val Ticino to the
north-west. At Mesocco and Faido are two of the most striking bars or
“riegel” across the Alpine troughs, and later in Antarctica I was to
find a third even more striking example. Thus, about twenty miles south
of Saint Gothard is the _basin_ of Piotta, a trough with vertical walls
two thousand feet high and a flat valley floor. This is analogous to the
Antarctic valley containing Lake Bonney (77° 30′ S.). Then at Fiesso
this basin is bounded by a great bar or _riegel_, through which a narrow
defile passes at one side; so also at the Nussbaum Riegel in Antarctica.
Below Fiesso is the broad _trough_ of Lavorgo closely paralleled by the
broad “dry valley” in the southern continent.
[Illustration:
Block diagrams illustrating the basins, gorges, and riegel in the Val
Ticino below Saint Gothard. (Cf. Taylor Valley, Antarctica.)
]
On my way back from Italy I stopped for a few days with the glaciologist
Nussbaum at Bern, and explored the queer drainage in the valleys near
that city. In the last Ice Age all this fertile country lay below the
Rhone Glacier, and I was to find that many of the features in Antarctica
reproduced, in the present, the past history of the Swiss scenery.
I reached London on the evening that Peary gave his lecture in the
Albert Hall. Mawson had given me his ticket and I decided to go, though
I had to appear in my touring rig of puttees and peletin. I heard that
Bernard Day—our motor expert and lately with Shackleton—had the next
seat. It was a tremendous crowd and a very interesting lecture. As is
somewhat usual with Americans, he gesticulates more than is common among
British speakers. He had just received the medal (which was designed by
Lady Scott) and expressed his sense of the honour done him and the care
with which he would cherish this token of the Geographical Society’s
esteem, when the medal dropped violently from his hand amid audible
amusement from the thousands comprising his audience. However, he picked
it up and proceeded with his remarks with the greatest _sang froid_. Day
and I were much impressed by his method of relaying with dog teams, and
felt that he deserved full credit for his long-sustained attack on the
North Pole. Three years later I was to be again in the Albert Hall to
hear Commander Evans describe the British conquest of the Pole; but
Bernard Day had now settled “on the land” near my own home in Sydney,
New South Wales.
Before I left England I had met most of the officers. Bowers I first saw
at dinner one evening with Captain Scott. Lady Scott was coming out to
Australia, and was much interested in the political and social questions
of the “British continent.” She had done some long tramps in
Switzerland, and told us much about the Fabian Society and about her art
life. She had heard of our tramp to London. “Did you really walk sixty
miles in ten hours?” So had rumour reported it. It was mortifying to
confess to a bare fifty miles in twelve hours! Birdie Bowers appeared in
the full insignia of a Lieutenant of the Indian Marine. He was at this
time so busy loading the ship at the docks that I did not see him again
until I joined the _Terra Nova_ in New Zealand.
On the 12th of May I joined the _Orontes_ and I reached Melbourne at the
end of June. For the next three months I was busy at the new Federal
capital—then unnamed,—where I carried out various surveys for the
Commonwealth.
In July Professor David sent me some microscope slides made from a
limestone obtained by Shackleton’s party on the Beardmore Glacier. To
our delight I was able to identify them as fossil “corals” of Cambrian
age, of the same genus as those from South Australia on which I had been
working at Cambridge. Some account of these Antarctic fossils which
Wright also discovered in some of his specimens from the Beardmore is
given in the account of our life at headquarters.
Professor David gave me invaluable advice on Antarctic matters. At the
School of Geology at the University of Sydney is a large “Antarctic
Room” filled with specimens collected on the 1907 Expedition. Here
Priestley had been working out results for many months, and here he
presided over informal “tea” at 4.30 every afternoon! Here I met Alan
Thomson, a geological scholar from Oxford, who was to have been one of
us, but that he developed lung trouble at the last moment. In
consequence of Thomson’s illness, Priestley obtained Shackleton’s
permission by cable, and thereupon accepted Captain Scott’s offer to
join us. Many were the yarns Priestley told us of his 1908 experiences.
He said that the young Eskimo dogs, born down there, never knew water,
yet they held out a water-can for a drink when they saw it! More
credible was the story of how they buried the water-can (containing a
future drink) and were profoundly disgusted on digging it up to find
that their refreshment had vanished! The yarn which I fear I completely
disbelieved—anent killing skua gulls by throwing a slab of rock
vertically upward—I proved practically a few days after landing at Cape
Evans, as will appear in its own place.
Meanwhile the _Terra Nova_ had left Cardiff and slowly sailed by the
“wind-jammers’” route to New Zealand. They had an exciting time at South
Trinidad—a lonely island off Brazil—swimming through shark-infested surf
to the shore. Here they made some biological collections, and on the
remainder of the voyage many of the land-lubbers became respectable
sailor-men. I hardly knew Wright when I saw him reefing sails and
running up the ratlines as if to the manner born.
The third geologist appointed on Professor David’s recommendation was
Frank Debenham, scholar at my old university, and a family friend for
many years. Indeed, the three sons of each family had gone to the same
school, and five of us to the same university. It was extremely pleasant
to be associated with men like Debenham and Wright, and I was indeed
fortunate to have them as sledge mates in the difficult times to come.
By degrees all the party were assembling at the Antipodes. Meares had
been collecting dogs and ponies in Manchuria. He had spent several years
in this part of Asia, and was already renowned for his journeys into
unknown Tibet. He passed through Sydney in October—accompanied by
Lieutenant Bruce—a few days before I arrived.
Captain Scott, Wilson, and Simpson were now in Australia busy on various
matters. During the voyage Simpson and Wright had carried out
experiments on the electrical state of the air, and the latter was now
engaged on testing and standardizing his pendulum apparatus before he
left civilization.
On the 22nd of October, 1910, Debenham and I left Sydney for New
Zealand. We were to join Captain Scott at Christchurch, and the _Terra
Nova_ was now lying at Lyttelton—the port of that city.
[Illustration:
The chief travels of the sixteen officers at Headquarters, Cape Evans,
1911. (Track of _Terra Nova_, 1910–1913, shown also.)
]
Some of the officers I did not meet until I reached New Zealand. There
was Ponting, whose beautiful book on Japan had just appeared. He had had
a most varied experience, including mining and ranching in California,
before his genius in artistic photography manifested itself. He and
Meares were old friends, and had travelled together in many Eastern
countries. Indeed, this fore-knowledge was a usual thing among members.
Simpson had almost accompanied Scott in 1902. Wilson, of course, made
his name on that expedition; and had been chiefly connected with the
Grouse Commission since.
Cherry-Garrard was making an extended tour of the world when the
expedition was started, and volunteered from Australia. He was the sole
representative sent by the University of Oxford. He came out from home
on the _Terra Nova_, and was one of the landsmen who took kindly to a
sailor’s life. A characteristic of Cherry’s was his never-ending series
of gifts to his mates. A most acceptable pair of huge Jaeger socks
brought about our real introduction!
Captain Oates had seen service in many parts of the Empire. With
difficulty one could get him to talk of his experiences in India (in the
province of Indore) or in the South African war, where he served with
distinction. He was very busy with the ponies during the voyage south,
and I hardly spoke to him until we were marooned together in the Old
Discovery Hut. One heard that he was a keen yachtsman, but his strong
character and real sense of humour were hidden under a very quiet
exterior. Our naval surgeon, Dr. Atkinson, and myself had no work in
common until the same month of March at Hut Point brought us together
when the Western and Depôt parties joined forces.
Perhaps the most interesting career among the younger officers was that
of Tryggve Gran. He was only a few years over age, and yet he had seen
more of the world than any member except Captain Scott. Born in Bergen,
and educated in Switzerland, he had travelled all his life. He knew
Europe from Turkey to Iceland, and shared with Simpson and Campbell a
knowledge of Arctic life. He had fought rebels in Venezuela, tramped
across South America, spent several years in the merchant service and
navy of Norway, and was now a sub-lieutenant and a B.A. of Christiania.
His chief record hitherto had been that of winning the Blue Ribbon of
Norway, the Holman-Kol cup for ski-running. This narrative will have
much to say of him, and will show that his versatility and willingness
to help were remarkable even among the group of men who were my mates in
Antarctica.
People have often asked me what attraction Antarctica had for me
personally. It was purely scientific at first, but now I realize that
the companionship with such ideal mates was the chief joy in Antarctic
life. I have not, up to the time of writing, felt any of the “call to
the Antarctic” that others describe; but travel anywhere with my mates
of the South would be equally attractive.
At the risk of being tedious, I will try to describe the chief problem
in science which I hoped to help solve by my sojourn in Antarctica.
Briefly, it is the study of the effect of ice (chiefly as glaciers) in
carving out the features of the earth’s surface. It may quite
legitimately be asked, “What is the value of that knowledge? What
bearing has it on science and human interests?”
Most people know that Europe has passed through an Ice Age comparatively
recently, but few—even among geologists—would be prepared to agree that
almost every factor of human environment in Central Europe has been
affected by this ancient ice-cap. All inter-communication, much of the
agriculture, all the scenery; nay, even the very possibility of
continuous habitation is due to the work of the ancient glaciers. The
Gothard, Simplon, and Mont Cenis railways pass along deep glacier-cut
gorges (see p. 9) until they reach comparatively narrow ridges which can
be pierced by tunnels. The great Alpine passes are but cols due to
glacial erosion. The fertile uplands (the true “Alps”), where the Swiss
flocks pasture, and the extensive deep-lying plains of deep rich soil
are glacial debris. The magnificent waterfalls, the tributary valleys
“hanging” over the main gorge, are only found in regions where ice has
played an important part in its past history. In winter it is only in
these deep gorges, excavated two thousand feet below the general level
in countries like Switzerland, that the inhabitants and their flocks can
hibernate until the grass covers the country in the succeeding spring.
There can be no more valuable branch of geology than one which tries to
chronicle the actions which have made the Alpine countries of the world
so different from the more normal regions. But it is by no means
universally allowed that this work is principally due to ice. One school
of geologists maintains that water can carve out a land surface in a
similar way; and in Switzerland, New Zealand, and similar regions, it is
difficult to decide whether the living waters or the long-vanished
glaciers have cut out a certain gorge or canyon. Where, then, is the
solution to be found? We cannot observe Europe in the clutch of an Ice
Age; but it is possible to find a region—once, no doubt, as warm as
portions of Europe—now undergoing its period of intense cold and
accompanying glacial erosion.
In almost waterless Antarctica the land is being slowly carved out into
features which must be related to those obtaining in Alpine Europe and
other elevated regions, if (as I believe) the Great Ice Age has left an
unmistakable imprint of itself in a characteristic topography.
I may fittingly conclude the “series of introductions” by a list of the
officers. This gives their positions; and, what may be found more useful
to the reader, their nicknames and the personnel of the various parties
into which the expedition split up on arrival in Antarctica.
LIST OF OFFICERS AND THEIR PARTIES.
_Leader._—CAPTAIN ROBERT FALCON SCOTT.
_Second in Command._—LIEUTENANT E. R. G. R. EVANS.
_Chief of Scientific Staff._—DR. E. A. WILSON.
SHIP.
Harry Pennell, Commander R.N.
Henry de P. Rennick, Lieutenant R.N.
Wilfred M. Bruce, Commander R.N.
Francis Drake, Assist. Paymaster R.N. (retired).
Dennis Lillie, M.A., Biologist.
James Dennistoun (1911–12 voyage).
Alfred B. Cheetham, R.N.R., Boatswain.
William Williams, Engineer.
SHORE PARTIES.
A. _Northern Party_ (Jan. 1911–Nov. 1912).
Victor Campbell, Lieutenant R.N.
G. Murray Levick, Surgeon R.N.
Raymond Priestley, Geologist.
(And Abbott, Dickason, Browning.)
B. _Depôt Party_ (Jan. 1911–April, 1911).
Robert Falcon Scott, Captain, C.V.O., R.N. (The Owner).
Edward R. A. R. Evans, Lieutenant R.N. (Teddy).
Henry R. Bowers, Lieutenant R.I.M. (Birdie).
Lawrence E. G. Oates, Captain (Titus).
Edward L. Atkinson, Surgeon R.N. (Atch).
Edward A. Wilson, B.A., M.B., Chief of Scientific Staff (Uncle Bill).
Cecil H. Meares, in charge of dogs (Mother).
Apsley Cherry-Garrard, B.A., Assistant Zoologist (Cherry).
Tryggve Gran, B.A., Sub-Lieutenant (Trigger).
(And Keohane, Crean, Forde, and Demitri.)
C. _Western Party_ (Jan.–March, 1911).
Griffith Taylor, B.Sc., B.E., B.A., Geologist (Grif).
Frank Debenham, B.Sc., B.A., Geologist (Deb.).
Charles Wright, B.A., Physicist (Silas).
(And Edgar Evans.)
D. _At Cape Evans_ (Jan.–April, 1911).
George C. Simpson, D.Sc., Meteorologist (Sunny Jim).
Edward W. Nelson, Biologist (Marie).
Herbert G. Ponting, Camera-artist (Ponte).
Bernard C. Day, Motor Engineer (Rivets).
(And Lashley, Hooper, Clissold and Anton.)
All those in lists B, C, and D were united under Captain Scott at
Headquarters during most of 1911.
E. _Midwinter Party_ (July, 1911).
E. A. Wilson, H. R. Bowers, A. Cherry-Garrard.
POLE PARTY AND SUPPORTS.
A. _Pole Party._
Captain Scott.
E. A. Wilson.
L. E. G. Oates.
H. R. Bowers.
Edgar Evans.
B. _Last Support._
E. R. G. R. Evans.
Lashley.
Crean.
C. _Summit Party._
E. L. Atkinson.
C. S. Wright.
A. Cherry-Garrard.
P. Keohane.
D. _Dog Sledges._
C. H. Meares.
Demetri Gerof.
E. _Motor Party._
B. C. Day.
F. J. Hooper.
[Illustration:
_Photo by W. Hillsdon, Lyttelton, N.Z._]
OFFICERS AND CREW, CAPTAIN SCOTT’S ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION, 1910.
_Left to right_: Taylor, Wright, Simpson, Nelson, Levick, Oates,
Evans, Bowers, Wilson, Scott, Campbell, Davies, Rennick, Ponting,
Gran, Browning, Debenham, Day, Cherry-Garrard, Pennell, Meares,
Drake, Bruce, Forde.
]
2ND WESTERN PARTY (Nov. 1911–February, 1912).
Griffith Taylor.
Frank Debenham.
Tryggve Gran.
R. Forde.
AT THE HUT (Nov. 1911 to Jan. 1912).
George C. Simpson.
E. W. Nelson.
H. G. Ponting.
Clissold.
Anton.
THE HUT PARTY DURING THE SECOND WINTER.
E. L. Atkinson.
E. W. Nelson.
F. Debenham.
C. S. Wright.
A. Cherry-Garrard.
T. Gran.
Crean, Forde, Lashley, Hooper, Archer, Williamson and Demetri.
They were joined by the Northern Party late in 1912.
II
THE _TERRA NOVA_ GOES SOUTH[1]
CHAPTER I
THE GEOLOGISTS VISIT THE NEW ZEALAND GLACIERS
On the morning of the 4th of November the Australian contingent reached
Lyttelton. The first ship we saw was the _Terra Nova_ snugly berthed
alongside the wharf, and separated by a few feet from the shed No. 5 in
which most of the gear was stored. She was readily recognizable by her
characteristic rigging surmounted by the crow’s nest. The funnel is
painted a rather vivid yellow, and is decidedly abaft of the centre of
the ship, a feature which is usually represented wrongly in the models
of the ship displayed in some of the Dominion’s shops.
Technically the _Terra Nova_ is a barque equipped with an auxiliary
screw. She was built at Dundee, and carries three masts (two
square-rigged), of which the mizen, for reasons explained later, is
rarely used. Socially she is a Royal Yacht, which means that she may fly
the white ensign, a privilege only accorded to certain favoured vessels
of the Empire. In fact, I think, apart from our barque, all the units of
the Royal Yacht Squadron are on pleasure bent; and certainly no other is
frozen in the Antarctic Pack as we are at the time of writing.
Originally she was used as a whaler, and differs little in general
arrangement from the _Nimrod_ (Sir Ernest Shackleton’s ship), though she
is approximately twice as powerful a vessel. Almost the only wooden
vessels now built are those used in the polar seas, and as no steel
vessel could stand the wear and tear caused by the constant collision
with ice, it follows that an exploring expedition usually makes use of a
converted whaling vessel.
When I first saw her in the West India Docks at London, she had a wide
and spacious poop and a distinctly narrow and confined saloon. Now the
proportions are reversed. The poop-deck consists merely of the space
around the wheel and binnacle; all the remaining area has been filled
with laboratories and with two central structures, the deck-house and
chart-house. Below, a relatively noble room has been provided; with an
enclosed balcony much more useful and not much less ornamental than the
classic specimen in Verona!
In naval parlance, our saloon is dignified by the title of “wardroom,”
and has none of the inconveniences usually associated with polar
exploration. It is plainly furnished with a long centre table and two
lateral leather-covered seats. The stove (not yet needed) certainly
blocks the passage behind the head of the table, but under normal
conditions, especially before the expansive after-dinner moments, there
is sitting accommodation for seventeen officers. Three more sit on boxes
at three corners—the fourth being left open as a breathing space for the
steward. Hence twenty of the twenty-four constituting the “afterguard”
are accounted for, and the remainder are usually on watch, and arrive
uproariously hungry after the majority have reached the tobacco stage.
[Illustration:
Section across poop of _Terra Nova_ (not to scale).
]
On our early appearance we were cheerily hailed by the two officers on
board. One had just converted the deck-house “balcony”—which overlooked
the _wardroom_—into a bathroom, the other was devouring ham and eggs
down below. But most of the officers, after their four months’ voyage,
were staying in Christchurch some eight miles away, and came into the
ship by early train. Lyttelton is a magnificent harbour of extraordinary
origin. Port Phillip, it is well known, is a drowned coastal plain,
hence its low banks and rounded contour; Port Jackson is a drowned river
valley, as is obvious from its winding outline and deep frontage; while
Wellington Harbour occupies earthquake landslides. But Lyttelton Harbour
is a drowned mountain valley, with hills rising fifteen hundred feet
almost continuously around the elongated basin. The eastern flanks of
this isolated mountain (Banks Peninsula) are drowned in the Pacific; the
western flanks are buried, several thousand feet probably, in the silts
and shingle of the Canterbury Plains. The fair city of Christchurch,
which has arisen on an even plain stretching twenty miles north, south,
and west, has a wonderful harbour at her door, owing to this unique
juxtaposition of plain and buried mountain. Most of the members of the
Expedition tramped over the old bridle-track to see the view from the
top, but all traffic passes through the railway tunnel—one and a
half-mile long—cut deep in the volcanic rocks of the Peninsula.
The office of the Expedition was close to the cathedral in Christchurch,
almost in the shadow of the steeple, which has a habit of toppling down
under the stress of earthquake shocks. Here was the secretary struggling
with a mass of correspondence—very largely letters asking for
autographs, penguin eggs, and rocks from the south. These modest
requests, however pathetically they are worded, cannot be attended to in
the last few days of preparation of a large expedition. More annoying
were the sheaves of letters sent later on board the _Terra Nova_,
addressed in such terms as “Mr. Wood-B. Pole-seeker, King Edward VII.
Land.” The addressees not being known, they will probably languish in a
New Zealand Dead Letter Office.
Captain Scott arranged that those scientists who were specially engaged
in glacier investigation should immediately proceed to the New Zealand
Alps to study polar conditions amid somewhat less strenuous
circumstances than in Antarctica. I do not propose to do more than give
a brief outline of the features of this region, which may reasonably be
supposed to be analogous to those obtaining in Victoria Land.
[Illustration:
Harbours visited on the voyage to New Zealand.
]
[Illustration:
N.B.—In both these peaks and also in the Antarctic “Matterhorn” (in
Taylor’s Valley, _q.v._) the “faceted” slopes are due to the eating
away of the sides by cürm (cirque) erosion.
]
We carried a pair of Norwegian ski as a present from the Expedition to
the guide at the Hermitage below Mount Cook; and we were shod in
Norwegian ski boots, whose chief characteristics are a square high
toe—to fit the ski-iron—and a large size—to contain comfortably three
pairs of socks! We were also provided with some special surveying
instruments, aneroids made of aluminium and only half the ordinary
weight, and a queer type of hand compass, the shape of a gypsy’s kettle.
The needle was surrounded with a heavy oil and the case carefully sealed
in, so that the oscillation should be “deadbeat,” and not waste valuable
time in coming to rest.
A hundred-mile motor ride bridges the gap between the railway at Fairlie
and the Government accommodation house “the Hermitage” beneath Mount
Cook. As we rapidly traversed the foothills—bare but for coarse tussocks
of grass—the Alps came nearer and were more visible. The snowline was
very strikingly marked on the mountains. To the north Mount Cook (12,349
feet) showed almost 7000 feet of snow, and thence as the mountains
decreased in height less and less projected above the snowline, until on
those 5000 feet high only the peaks retained any snow. The Swiss Alps
are _in the same latitude_ (44°), but there the snowline is at 8000
feet, so that to get an adequate comparison of the two Alpine regions
one must add on 3000 feet to the European peaks. Or, put in another way,
there is as much snow scenery on Mount Cook (12,349) as on the
Matterhorn (14,780), one of the highest peaks in Europe. It is a
striking example, illustrating the fact that the southern hemisphere is,
on the whole, ten degrees colder than the northern. For both Alpine
lands are, as is said above, about 44° latitude. If we use the accepted
factor of 1° F. decrease in temperature for 300 feet ascent, we see that
ten degrees difference in temperature would alter the snowline 3000
feet, as is actually the case.
[Illustration: The Snout of the Tasman Glacier from Sebastopol 19·11·10]
The Mount Cook region forms an interesting stage in glacial development
between Antarctica and the Kosciusko region in Australia. Later we shall
see what are the appearances where the snowline reaches sea-level—just
north of the Antarctic Circle. As we reach the Tasman valley draining
the Mount Cook area, we are struck by several peculiarities in the
scenery. There are no spurs projecting into the broad main valley, but
each of the valley walls lies in one plane to a much greater degree than
in normal valleys. Perched up on the high slopes are little hanging
valleys, from which small streams cascade to the broad main valley.
Along the slopes are lines of debris, like wandering railway
embankments, which (though a thousand feet above the present river) mark
the height of the ancient glaciers. These latter carved the undercut
cliffs and left the tributary valleys up in the air. These signs are not
wanting in the Australian glacial region, where, indeed, they may be
more obvious than in Antarctica, for they have been exposed by the
retreat of the glaciation, whereas they will be to some extent concealed
_beneath_ the immense icefield of the south.
[Illustration:
Map of glaciers in New Zealand visited in November, 1910, by the
geologists. N.B. The Tasmanian glacier from X to Y is covered with
moraine blocks.
]
But in New Zealand are enormous glaciers, bigger than any in Europe,
more accessible and (being under Government control) much more
economical from the point of view of the ordinary tourist. Let us
imagine ourselves a mile or so north of the Hermitage on the slopes
alongside the Tewaewae Glacier. This hanging tributary is, however,
never known by its Maori name, but by a more homely one (which can
hardly be a _translation_)—the “Stocking.”
Just below us is the junction of the Hooker and Mueller valleys, each
containing a large glacier. We have crossed the lower portion of the
Mueller Glacier to reach this spot. It hardly presents the features
usually associated with glaciers by those who gained their impressions
from written descriptions. Here it is a disturbed sea of debris,
consisting of blocks of slate varying in height from twenty feet to a
few inches. Here and there large boat-shaped hollows show sheer black
faces which glisten in the sunlight. Down these falls a constant stream
of shingle, and occasionally a huge monolith tumbles with a roar into
the body of the glacier. For there are ancient crevasses in the glacier,
though it needs close inspection to see that their dark walls are formed
of ice.
[Illustration: Looking down the Snout of the Mueller Glacier, from the
Stocking 5·11·10]
We must go several miles higher up the glacier to reach the clean white
fields of snow and ice usually associated with the name. It is this
tumbled debris—the surface moraine—which forms one of the most
formidable obstacles to exploration of the coastal regions of
Antarctica; while the smooth normal glacier surface is excellent
travelling. All round the snout of the Mueller Glacier extends an almost
circular rampart consisting of two lines of fortifications. There is an
outer wall some 300 feet high, curving grandly from the Stocking’s wall
right across the Hooker Valley, and thence above the Hermitage back to
Kea Point. This is thickly covered with shrubs, and contrasts strongly
with the somewhat lower inner rampart of new-piled blocks of slate. At
first glance this suggests an ancient crater wall; but it is a glacial
product, the terminal and lateral moraines shovelled out to the edges of
the glacier by the ever-moving river of ice.
More striking still is the course of the water draining from the Hooker
Glacier. This lies about two miles away to the north of the snout of the
Mueller, and from ice caves in its terminal face a broad stream rushes
to join the waters of the Mueller Glacier. It will be readily understood
that in this small area, including the short ice-free strip of the
valley and the snouts of the two glaciers (depositing huge piles of
debris), the deposits are very erratically arranged. Moreover, the
waters of the Hooker actually hit the side of the Mueller Glacier, dip
underneath for half a mile, and then reappear as a sort of miniature
maëlstrom. I dwell on this because it shows how difficult it may well be
for geologists in the year 10,000 A.D. (when the ice has long vanished)
to explain the origin of the topography in such a region as Mount Cook.
Much the same difficulty has occurred time and again in regions
glaciated in comparatively late periods, such as in England, U.S.A., and
even in the Australian Alps. One of the most promising features in
Antarctic scientific work is the light it is bound to throw on
geological phenomena somewhat like this, though on a much grander scale.