as the leading team had topped the rise and I was too blind to pick out a
better trail. We fairly played ourselves out that time, and finally had
to give it up and relay. Halving the load we went forward about a mile
with it, and, leaving that lot, went back for the remainder. So done were
my team that we could do little more than pull the half loads. Teddy's
team did the same, and though Scott's did not, we camped practically the
same time, having gone over our distance three times. Mount Kyffin was
still ahead of us to the left: we seemed as if we can never come up with
it. To-morrow Scott decided that if we could not move our full loads we
would start relaying systematically. It was a most depressing outlook
after such a day of strenuous labour."[227] We got soaked with
perspiration these days, though generally pulling in vest, pants, and
windproof trousers only. Directly we stopped we cooled quickly. Two skuas
appeared at lunch, attracted probably by the pony flesh below, but it was
a long way from the sea for them to come. On Thursday December 14, Scott
wrote: "Indigestion and the soggy condition of my clothes kept me awake
for some time last night, and the exceptional exercise gives bad attacks
of cramp. Our lips are getting raw and blistered. The eyes of the party
are improving, I am glad to say. We are just starting our march with no
very hopeful outlook."
[Illustration: MOUNT ELIZABETH, MOUNT ANNE AND SOCKS GLACIER--E. A.
Wilson, del. Emery Walker Limited, Collotypers.]
But we slogged along with much better results. "Once into the middle of
the glacier we had been steering more or less for the Cloudmaker and by
supper to-day were well past Mount Kyffin and were about 2000 feet up
after an estimated run of 11 or 12 statute miles. But the most cheering
sign was that the blue ice was gradually coming nearer the surface; at
lunch it was two feet down, and at our supper camp only one foot. In
pitching our tent Crean broke into a crevasse which ran about a foot in
front of the door and there was another at Scott's door. We threw an
empty oil can down and it echoed for a terribly long time."[228] We
spent the morning of December 15 crossing a maze of crevasses though they
were well bridged; I believe all these lower reaches of the glacier are
badly crevassed, but the thick snow and our ski kept us from tumbling in.
There was a great deal of competition between the teams which was perhaps
unavoidable but probably a pity. This day Bowers' diary records, "Did a
splendid bust off on ski, leaving Scott in the lurch, and eventually
overhauling the party which had left some time before us. All the morning
we kept up a steady, even swing which was quite a pleasure." But the same
day Scott wrote, "Evans' is now decidedly the slowest unit, though
Bowers' is not much faster. We keep up and overhaul either without
difficulty." Bowers' team considered themselves quite good, but both
teams were satisfied of their own superiority; as a matter of fact
Scott's was the faster, as it should have been for it was certainly the
heavier of the two.
"It was a very bad light all day, but after lunch it began to get worse,
and by 5 o'clock it was snowing hard and we could see nothing. We went on
for nearly an hour, steering by the wind and any glimpse of sastrugi, and
then, very reluctantly, Scott camped. It looks better now. The surface is
much harder and more wind-swept, and as a rule the ice is only six inches
underneath. We are beginning to talk about Christmas. We get very thirsty
these days in the warm temperatures: we shall feel it farther up when the
cold gets into our open pores and sunburnt hands and cracked lips. I am
plastering some skin on mine to-night. Our routine now is: turn out 5.30,
lunch 1, and camp at 7, and we get a short 8 hours' sleep, but we are so
dead tired we could sleep half into the next day: we get about 9½ hours'
march. Tea at lunch a positive godsend. We are raising the land to the
south well, and are about 2500 feet up, latitude about 84° 8´ S."[229]
The next day, December 16, Bowers wrote: "We have had a really enjoyable
day's march, except the latter end of the afternoon. At the outset in the
forenoon my sledge was a bit in the lurch, and Scott drew steadily away
from us. I knew I could ordinarily hold my own with him, but for the
first two hours we dropped till we were several hundred yards astern; try
as I would to rally up my team we could gain nothing. On examining the
runners however we soon discovered the cause by the presence of a thin
film of ice. After that we ran easily. The thing one must avoid doing is
to touch them with the hand or mitt, as anything damp will make ice on
them. We usually turn the sledge on its side and scrape one runner at a
time with the back of our knives so as to avoid any chance of cutting or
chipping them. In the afternoon either the tea or the butter we had at
lunch made us so strong that we fairly overran the other team."[230]
"We must push on all we can, for we are now 6 days behind Shackleton, all
due to that wretched storm. So far, since we got among the disturbances
we have not seen such alarming crevasses as I had expected; certainly
dogs could have come up as far as this."[231]
[Illustration: MOUNT PATRICK--E. A. Wilson, del.]
"At lunch we could see big pressure ahead having done first over five
miles. Soon after lunch, having gone down a bit, we rose among very rough
stuff. We plugged on until 4.30, when ski became quite impossible, and we
put them on the sledges and started on foot. We immediately began putting
legs down: one step would be on blue ice and the next two feet down into
snow: very hard going. The pressure ahead seemed to stretch right into a
big glacier next the Keltie Glacier to the east, and so we altered course
for a small bluff point about two-thirds of the way along the base of the
Cloudmaker. We were to camp at 6, but did not do so until about 6.30, the
last 1½ hours in big pressure, crossing big and smaller waves, and
hundreds of crevasses which one of us generally found. We are now camped
in very big pressure, and with difficulty we found a patch big enough to
pitch the tent free from crevasses. We are pretty well past the Keltie
Glacier which is a vast tumbled mass: there is a long line of ice falls
ahead, and I think there is a hard day ahead of us to-morrow among
that pressure which must be enormous. We can't go farther inshore here,
being under the north end of the Cloudmaker, and a fine mountain it is,
rising precipitously above us.[232]
"Sunday, December 17. Nearly 11 miles. Temp. 12.5°. 3500 feet. We have
had an exciting day--this morning was just like the scenic railway at
Earl's Court. We got straight on to the big pressure waves, and headed
for the humpy rock at the base of the Cloudmaker. It was a hard plug up
the waves, very often standing pulls, and all that we could do for a
course was a very varied direction. Going down the other side was the
exciting part: all we could do was to set the sledge straight, hang on to
the straps, give her a little push and rush down the slope, which was
sometimes so sheer that the sledge was in the air. Sometimes there was no
chance to brake the sledge, and we all had to get on to the top, and we
rushed down with the wind whistling in our ears. After three hours of
this it levelled out again a bit, and we took the top of a wave, and ran
south along it on blue ice: enormous pressure to our right, largely I
think caused by the Keltie Glacier. Then we ascended a rise, snowy and
crevassed, and camped after doing just under five miles, with big
pressure ahead."[233]
"In the afternoon we had a hard surface. Scott started off at a great
speed, Teddy [Evans] and I following. There was something wrong with my
team or my sledge, as we had a desperate job to keep up at first. We did
keep up all right, but were heartily glad when after about 2½ hours Scott
stopped for a spell. I rearranged our harness, putting Cherry and myself
on the long span again, which we had temporarily discarded in the
morning. We were both winded and felt wronged. The rearrangement was a
success however, and the remainder of the march was a pleasure instead of
a desperate struggle. It finished up on fields of blue rippled ice with
sharp knife edges, and snow patches few and far between. We are all
camped on a small snow patch in the middle of a pale blue rippled sea,
about 3600 feet above sea level and past the Cloudmaker, which means
that we are half way up the Glacier."[234] We had done 12½ miles
(statute).
The Beardmore Glacier is twice as large as the Malaspina in Alaska, which
was the largest known glacier until Shackleton discovered the Beardmore.
Those who knew the Ferrar Glacier professed to find the Beardmore
unattractive, but to me at any rate it was grand. Its very vastness,
however, tends to dwarf its surroundings, and great tributary glaciers
and tumbled ice-falls, which anywhere else would have aroused admiration,
were almost unnoticed in a stream which stretched in places forty miles
from bank to bank. It was only when the theodolite was levelled that we
realized how vast were the mountains which surrounded us: one of which we
reckoned to be well over twenty thousand feet in height, and many of the
others must have approached that measurement. Lieutenant Evans and Bowers
were surveying whenever the opportunity offered, whilst Wilson sat on the
sledge or on his sleeping-bag, and sketched.
Before leaving on the morning of December 18 we bagged off three
half-weekly units and made a depôt marked by a red flag on a bamboo which
was stuck into a small mound. Unfortunately it began to snow in the night
and no bearings were taken until the following morning when only the base
of the mountains on the west side was visible. We knew we might have
difficulty in picking up this depôt again, and certainly we all did.
"It was thick, with low stratus clouds in the morning, and snow was
falling in large crystals. Our socks and finnesko, hung out to dry, were
covered with most beautiful feathery crystals. In the warm weather one
gets fairly saturated with perspiration on the march, and foot-gear is
always wet, except the outside covering which is as a rule more or less
frozen according to existing temperature. On camping at night I shift to
night foot-gear as soon as ever the tent is pitched, and generally slip
on my windproof blouse, as one cools down like smoke after the exertion
of man-hauling a heavy sledge for hours. At lunch camp one's feet often
get pretty cold, but this goes off as soon as some hot tea is got into
the system. As a rule, even when snowing, one's socks, etc., will dry if
there is a bit of a breeze. They are always frozen stiff in the morning
and can best be thawed out by bundling the lot [under one's] jersey
during breakfast. They can then be put on tolerably warm even if wet.
"We started off on a hard rippled blue surface like a sea frozen intact
while the wind was playing on it. It soon got worse and we had to have
one and sometimes two hands back to keep the sledge from skidding. Of
course it was easy enough stuff to pull on, but the ground was very
uneven, and sledges constantly capsized. It did not improve the runners
either. There were few crevasses.
"All day we went on in dull cloudy weather with hardly any land visible,
and the glacier to be seen only for a short distance. In the afternoon
the clouds lifted somewhat and showed us the Adam Mountains. The surface
was better for the sledges but worse for us, as there were countless
cracks and small crevasses, into which we constantly trod, barking our
shins. As the afternoon sun came round the perspiration fairly streamed
down, and it was impossible to keep goggles clear. The surface was so
slippery and uneven that it was difficult to keep one's foothold. However
we did 12½ miles, and felt that we had really done a good day's work when
we camped. It was not clear enough to survey in the evening, so I took
the sledge-meter in hand and worked at it half the night to repair
Christopher's damage.[235] I ended up by making a fixing of which I was
very proud, but did not dare to look at the time, so I don't know how
much sleep I missed.
"There is no doubt that Scott knows where to aim for in a glacier, as it
was just here that Shackleton had two or three of his worst days' work,
in such a maze of crevasses that he said that often a slip meant death
for the whole party. He avoids the sides of the glacier and goes nowhere
near the snow: he often heads straight for apparent chaos and somehow,
when we appear to have reached a cul-de-sac, we find it an open
road."[236] However, we all found the trouble on our way back.
"On our right we have now a pretty good view of the Adam, Marshall and
Wild Mountains, and their very curious horizontal stratification. Wright
has found, amongst bits of wind-blown débris, an undoubted bit of
sandstone and a bit of black basalt. We must get to know more of the
geology before leaving the glacier finally."[237]
December 19, +7°. Total height 5800 feet. "Things are certainly looking
up, seeing that we have risen 1100 feet, and marched 17 to 18 statute
miles during the day, whereas Shackleton's last march was 13 statute. It
was still thick when we turned out at 5.45, but it soon cleared with a
fresh southerly wind, and we could see Buckley Island and the land at the
head of the glacier just rising. We started late for Birdie wanted to get
our sledge-meter dished up: it has been quite a job to-day getting it on,
but it rode well this afternoon. We started over the same crevassed
stuff, but soon got on to blue ice, and for two hours had a most pleasant
pull, and then up a steepish rise sometimes on blue ice and sometimes on
snow. After the pleasantest morning we have had, we completed 8½ miles.
[Illustration: FROM MOUNT DEAKIN TO MOUNT KINSEY--E. A. Wilson, del.
Emery Walker Limited, Collotypers.]
"Angles and observations were taken at lunch, and quite a lot of work was
done. There is a general getting squared up with gear, for we know that
those going on will not have many more days of warm temperatures. At one
time to-day I think Scott meant trying the right hand of the island or
nunatak, but as we rose this was obviously impossible, for there is a
huge mass of pressure coming down there. From here the Dominion Range
also looks as if it were a nunatak. Some of these mountains, which don't
look very big, are huge (since the six thousand feet which we have risen
have to be added on to them), and many of them are very grand indeed. The
Mill Glacier is a vast thing, with big pressure across it. There also
seems to be a big series of ice-falls between Buckley Island and the
Dominion Range, for the centre of which Scott is going to-morrow. A
pretty hard plug this afternoon, but no disturbance, and gradually we
have left the bare ice, and are mostly travelling on _névé_. Much of the
ice is white. I have been writing down angles and times for Birdie, and
writing this in the intervals. Scott's heel is troubling him again. ['I
have bad bruises on knee and thigh'],[238] and generally there has been a
run on the medical cases for chafes, and minor ailments. There is now a
keen southerly wind blowing. It gets a little colder each day, and we are
already beginning to feel it on our sunburnt faces and hands."[239]
Of the crevasses met in the morning Bowers wrote: "So far nobody has
dropped down the length of his harness, as I did on the Cape Crozier
journey. On this blue ice they are pretty conspicuous, and as they are
mostly snow-bridged one is well advised to step over any line of snow.
With my short legs this was strenuous work, especially as the weight of
the sledge would often stop me with a jerk just before my leading foot
quite cleared a crevasse, and the next minute one would be struggling out
so as to keep the sledge on the move. It is fatal to stop the sledge as
nobody waits for stragglers, and you have to pick up your lost ground by
strenuous hurry. Of course some one often gets so far down a hole that it
is necessary to stop and help him out."
December 20. "To-day has been a great march--over two miles an hour, and
on the whole rising a lot. Soon after starting we got on to the most
beautiful icy surface, smooth except for cracks and only patches of snow,
most of which we could avoid. We came along at a great rate.
"The most interesting thing to see was that the Mill Glacier is not, as
was supposed, a tributary, but probably is an outlet falling from this
glacier, and a great size. However it was soon covered up with dense
black cloud, and there were billows of cloud behind us and below.
"At lunch Birdie made the disastrous discovery that the registering dial
of his sledge-meter was off. A screw had shaken out on the bumpy ice,
and the clockwork had fallen off. This is serious for it means that one
of the three returning parties will have to go without, and their
navigation will be much more difficult. Birdie is very upset, especially
after all the trouble he has taken with it, and the hours which he has
sat up. After lunch he and Bill walked back near two miles in the tracks,
but could not see it. It was then getting very thick, coming over from
the north."[240] "It appeared to be blizzing down the glacier, though
clear to the south. The northerly wind drove up a back-draught of snow,
and very soon fogged us completely. However we found our way back to camp
by the crampon tracks on the blue ice and then packed up to leave."[241]
"We started, making a course to hit the east side of the island where
there seems to be the only break in the ice-falls which stretch right
across. The weather lifted, and we are now camped with the island just to
our right, the long strata of coal showing plainly in it, and just in
front of us is this steep bit up through the falls. We have done nearly
23 statute miles to-day, pulling 160 lbs. a man.
"This evening has been rather a shock. As I was getting my finnesko on to
the top of my ski beyond the tent Scott came up to me, and said that he
was afraid he had rather a blow for me. Of course I knew what he was
going to say, but could hardly grasp that I was going back--to-morrow
night. The returning party is to be Atch, Silas, Keohane and self.
[Illustration: NIGHT CAMP. BUCKLEY ISLAND--December 20, 1911]
"Scott was very put about, said he had been thinking a lot about it but
had come to the conclusion that the seamen with their special knowledge,
would be needed: to rebuild the sledge, I suppose. Wilson told me it was
a toss-up whether Titus or I should go on: that being so I think Titus
will help him more than I can. I said all I could think of--he seemed so
cut up about it, saying 'I think, somehow, it is specially hard on you.'
I said I hoped I had not disappointed him, and he caught hold of me and
said 'No--no--No,' so if that is the case all is well. He told me that at
the bottom of the glacier he was hardly expecting to go on himself: I
don't know what the trouble is, but his foot is troubling him, and also,
I think, indigestion."[242]
Scott just says in his diary, "I dreaded this necessity of
choosing--nothing could be more heartrending." And then he goes on to sum
up the situation, "I calculated our programme to start from 85° 10´ with
12 units of food and eight men. We ought to be in this position to-morrow
night, less one day's food. After all our harassing trouble one cannot
but be satisfied with such a prospect."[243]
December 21. Upper Glacier Depôt. "Started off with a nippy S.Wly. wind
in our faces, but bright sunshine. One's nose and lips being chapped and
much skinned with alternate heat and cold, a breeze in the face is
absolute agony until you warm up. This does not take long, however, when
pulling a sledge, so after the first quarter of an hour more or less one
is comfortable unless the wind is very strong.
"We made towards the only place where it seemed possible to cross the
mass of pressure ice caused by the junction of the plateau with the
glacier, and congested between the nunatak [Buckley Island] and the
Dominion Range. Scott had considered at one time going up to westward of
the nunatak, but this appeared more chaotic than the other side. We made
for a slope close to the end of the island or nunatak, where Shackleton
must have got up also; it is obviously the only place when you look at it
from a commanding rise. We did not go quite so close to the land as
Shackleton did, and therefore, as had been the case with us all the way
up the glacier, found less difficulties than he met with. Scott is quite
wonderful in his selections of route, as we have escaped excessive
dangers and difficulties all along. In this case we had fairly good
going, but got into a perfect mass of crevasses into which we all
continually fell; mostly one foot, but often two, and occasionally we
went down altogether, some to the length of their harness to be hauled
out with the Alpine rope. Most of them could be seen by the strip of snow
on the blue ice. They were often too wide to jump though, and the only
thing was to plant your feet on the bridge and try not to tread heavily.
As a rule the centre of a bridged crevasse is the safest place, the
rotten places are at the edges. We had to go over dozens by hopping right
on to the bridge and then over on to the ice. It is a bit of a jar when
it gives way under you, but the friendly harness is made to trust one's
life to. The Lord only knows how deep these vast chasms go down, they
seem to extend into blue black nothingness thousands of feet below.
"Before reaching the rise we had to go up and down many steep slopes, and
on the one side the sledges were overrunning us, and on the other it
fairly took the juice out of you to reach the top. We saw the
stratification on the nunatak which Shackleton supposed to be coal: there
was also much sandstone and red granite. I should like to have scratched
round these rocks: we may get a chance on our return journey. As we
topped each rise we found another one beyond it, and so on.
"About noon some clouds settled in a fog round us, and being fairly in a
trough of crevasses we could not get on. Fortunately we found a snow
patch to pitch the tents on, but even there were crevasses under us.
However, we enjoyed a hearty lunch, and I improved the shining hour by
preparing my rations for the Upper Glacier Depôt.
"At 3 P.M. it cleared, and Mount Darwin, a nunatak to the S.W. of the
others, could be seen. This we made for, and some two miles on exchanged
blue ice for the new snow which was much harder pulling. Scott was fairly
wound up, and he went on and on. Every rise topped seemed to fire him
with a desire to top the next, and every rise had another beyond and
above it. We camped at 8 P.M., all pretty weary, having come up nearly
1500 feet, and done over eleven miles in a S.W. direction. We were south
of Mount Darwin in 85° 7´ S., and our corrected altitude proved to be
7000 feet above the Barrier. I worked up till a very late hour getting
the depôt stores ready, and also weighing out and arranging allowances
for the returning party, and arranging the stores and distribution of
weights of the two parties going on. The temperature was down to zero
to-day, the lowest it has been for some time this summer weather."[244]
"There is a very mournful air to-night--those going on and those turning
back. Bill came in while I was cooking, to say good-bye. He told me he
fully expected to come back with the next party: that he could see Scott
was going to take on the strongest fellows, perhaps three seamen. It
would be a great disappointment if Bill did not go on."[245]
We gave away any gear which we could spare to those going on, and I find
the following in my diary:
"I have been trying to give away my spare gear where it may be most
acceptable: finnesko to Birdie, pyjama trousers to Bill, and a bag of
baccy for Bill to give Scott on Christmas Day, some baccy to Titus,
jaeger socks and half my scarf to Crean, and a bit of handkerchief to
Birdie. Very tired to-night."
Scott wrote: "We are struggling on, considering all things against odds.
The weather is a constant anxiety, otherwise arrangements are working
exactly as planned.
"Here we are practically on the summit and up to date in the provision
line. We ought to get through."[246]
FOOTNOTES:
[221] My own diary.
[222] My own diary.
[223] Bowers.
[224] Scott.
[225] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 497.
[226] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 499.
[227] Bowers.
[228] My own diary.
[229] Ibid.
[230] Bowers.
[231] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 506.
[232] My own diary.
[233] Ibid.
[234] Bowers.
[235] See p. 332.
[236] Bowers.
[237] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 509.
[238] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 510.
[239] My own diary.
[240] My own diary.
[241] Bowers.
[242] My own diary.
[243] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 511-512.
[244] Bowers.
[245] My own diary.
[246] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 513.
CHAPTER XI
THE POLAR JOURNEY (_continued_)
People, perhaps, still exist who believe that it is of no
importance to explore the unknown polar regions. This, of course,
shows ignorance. It is hardly necessary to mention here of what
scientific importance it is that these regions should be
thoroughly explored. The history of the human race is a continual
struggle from darkness towards light. It is, therefore, to no
purpose to discuss the use of knowledge; man wants to know, and
when he ceases to do so, he is no longer man.--NANSEN.
III. THE PLATEAU FROM MOUNT DARWIN TO LAT. 87° 32´ S.
_First Sledge_ _Second Sledge_
SCOTT LIEUT. EVANS
WILSON BOWERS
OATES LASHLY
SEAMAN EVANS CREAN
For the first week on the plateau Bowers wrote a full diary, which I give
below. After December 28 there are little more than fragmentary notes
until January 19, the day the party started to return from the Pole. From
then until January 25, he wrote fully; nothing after that until January
29, followed by more fragments to "February 3rd (I suppose)." That is the
last entry he made.
But this is not surprising, even in a man of Bowers' energy. The time a
man can give to writing under such conditions is limited, and Bowers had
a great deal of it to do before he could think of a diary--the
meteorological log; sights for position as well as rating sights for
time; and all the routine work of weights, provisions and depôts. He
wrote no diary at the Pole, but he made a very full meteorological report
while there in addition to working out sights. The wonder is that he kept
a diary at all.
* * * * *
_From Bowers' Diary_
December 22. _Midsummer Day._ We have had a brilliant day with a
temperature about zero and no wind, altogether charming conditions. I
rigged up the Upper Glacier Depôt after breakfast. We depôted two
half-weekly units for return of the two parties, also all crampons and
glacier gear, such as ice-axes, crowbar, spare Alpine rope, etc.,
personal gear, medical, and in fact everything we could dispense with. I
left my old finnesko, wind trousers and some other spare gear in a bag
for going back.
The two advance parties' weights amounted to 190 lbs. per man. They
consisted of the permanent weights, twelve weeks' food and oil, spare
sledge runners, etc. We said good-bye and sent back messages and photo
films with the First Returning Party, which consisted of Atch, Cherry,
Silas and Keohane. It was quite touching saying farewell to our good
pals--they wished us luck, and Cherry, Atch and Silas quite overwhelmed
me.
We went forward, the Owner's team as before consisting of Dr. Bill, Titus
and [Seaman] Evans, and [Lieut.] Teddy Evans and Lashly coming over to my
sledge and tent to join up with Crean and myself. We all left the depôt
cairn marked with two spare 10-feet sledge runners and a large black flag
on one. Our morning march was not so long as usual owing to making up the
depôt, but we did five miles uphill, hauling our heavier loads more
easily than the lighter ones yesterday. A fall in the temperature had
improved the surface. We had also sandpapered our runners after the
tearing up they had had on the glacier; this made a tremendous
difference. The afternoon march brought our total up to 10.6 miles for
the day on a S.W. course.
We are steering S.W. with a view to avoiding ice-falls which Shackleton
met with. We came across very few crevasses; the few we found were as
broad as a street, and crossing them the whole party, sledge and all,
would be on the bridge at once. They only gave way at the edges, and we
did nothing worse than put our feet through now and then. The surface is
all snow now, névé and hard sastrugi, which seem to point to a strong
prevalent S.S.E. wind here.
We are well clear of the land now, and it is a beautiful evening. I have
just taken six photographs of the Dominion Range. We can see many new
mountains. Our position by observation is 85° 13´ 29" S., 161° 54´ 45"
E., variation being 175° 45´.
December 23. Turned out at usual time, 5.45 A.M. I am cook this week in
our tent. After breakfast built two cairns to mark spot and shoved off at
quarter to eight.
We started up a big slope on a S.W. course to avoid the pressure which
lay across our track to the southward. It was a pretty useful slog up the
rise, at one time it seemed as if we would never top the slope. We
stopped for five minutes to look round after 2½ hours' hard plugging and
about 1½ hours later reached the top, from which we could see the distant
mountains which have so recently been our companions. They are beginning
to look pretty magnificent. The top of the great pressure ridge was
running roughly S.E. and N.W.: it was one of a succession of ridges which
probably cover an area of fifty or sixty square miles. In this
neighbourhood Shackleton met them almost to 86½° south. At the top of the
ridge were vast crevasses into which we could have dropped the Terra Nova
easily. The bridges were firm, however, except at the sides, though we
had frequent stumbles into the conservatory roof, so to speak. The
sledges were rushed over them without mishap. We had to head farther west
to clear disturbances, and at one time were going W.N.W.
At lunch camp we had done 8½ miles, and in the afternoon we completed
fifteen on a S.W. course over improved ground. Our routine is to actually
haul our sledges for nine hours a day; five in the morning, 7.15 A.M.
till 1 P.M.; and four in the afternoon, 2.30 P.M.-6.30 P.M. We turn out
at 5.45 A.M. just now. The loads are still pretty heavy, but the surface
is remarkably good considering all things. One gets pretty weary towards
the end of the day; all my muscles have had their turn at being
[stiffened] up. These hills are giving my back ones a reminder, but they
will ache less to-morrow and finally cease to do so, as is the case with
legs, etc., which had their turn first.
December 24. _Christmas Eve._ We started off heading due south this
morning, as we are many miles to the westward of Shackleton's course and
should if anywhere be clear of the ice-falls and pressure. Of course no
mortals having been here, one can only conjecture; as a matter of fact,
we found later in the day that we were not clear by any means, and had to
do a bit of dodging about to avoid disturbances, as well as mount vast
ridges with the tops of them a chaos of crevasses. The tops are pretty
hard ice-snow, over which the sledges run easily; it is quite a holiday
after slogging up the slopes on the softer surface with our heavy loads,
which amount to over 190 lbs. per man.
We mark our night camp by two cairns and our lunch camp by single ones.
It is doubtful, however, among these ridges, if we will ever pick them up
again, and it does not really matter, as we have excellent land for the
Upper Glacier Depôt. We completed fourteen miles and turned in as usual
pretty tired.
December 25. _Christmas Day._ A strange and strenuous Christmas for me,
with plenty of snow to look at and very little else. The breeze that had
blown in our faces all yesterday blew more freshly to-day, with surface
drift. It fairly nipped one's nose and face starting off--until one got
warmed up. We had to pull in wind blouses, as though one's body kept warm
enough on the march the arms got numbed with the penetrating wind no
matter how vigorously they were swung. Another thing is that one cannot
stop the team on the march to get clothes on and off, so it is better to
go the whole hog and be too hot than cause delays. We had the addition of
a little pony meat for breakfast to celebrate the day. I am the cook of
our tent this week.
We steered south again and struck our friends the crevasses and climbed
ridges again. About the middle of the morning we were all falling in
continually, but Lashly in my team had the worst drop. He fell to the
length of his harness and the trace. I was glad that having noticed his
rope rather worn, I had given him a new one a few days before. He jerked
Crean and me off our feet backwards, and Crean's harness being jammed
under the sledge, which was half across an eight-feet bridge, he could do
nothing. I was a little afraid of sledge and all going down, but
fortunately the crevasse ran diagonally. We could not see Lashly, for a
great overhanging piece of ice was over him. Teddy Evans and I cleared
Crean and we all three got Lashly up with the Alpine rope cut into the
snow sides which overhung the hole. We then got the sledge into safety.
To-day is Lashly's birthday; he is married and has a family; is 44 years
of age, and due for his pension from the service. He is as strong as most
and is an undefeated old sportsman. Being a chief stoker, R.N., his
original job was charge of one of the ill-fated motor sledges.
[The following is Lashly's own account:
"Christmas Day and a good one. We have done 15 miles over a very changing
surface. First of all it was very much crevassed and pretty rotten; we
were often in difficulties as to which way we should tackle it. I had the
misfortune to drop clean through, but was stopped with a jerk when at the
end of my harness. It was not of course a very nice sensation, especially
on Christmas Day, and being my birthday as well. While spinning round in
space like I was it took me a few seconds to gather together my thoughts
and see what kind of a place I was in. It certainly was not a fairy's
place. When I had collected myself I heard some one calling from above,
'Are you all right, Lashly?' I was all right it is true, but I did not
care to be dangling in the air on a piece of rope, especially when I
looked round and saw what kind of a place it was. It seemed about 50 feet
deep and 8 feet wide, and 120 feet long. This information I had ample
time to gain while dangling there. I could measure the width with my ski
sticks, as I had them on my wrists. It seemed a long time before I saw
the rope come down alongside me with a bowline in it for me to put my
foot in and get dragged out. It was not a job I should care to have to go
through often, as by being in the crevasse I had got cold and a bit
frost-bitten on the hands and face, which made it more difficult for me
to help myself. Anyhow Mr. Evans, Bowers and Crean hauled me out and
Crean wished me many happy returns of the day, and of course I thanked
him politely and the others laughed, but all were pleased I was not hurt
bar a bit of a shake. It was funny although they called to the other team
to stop they did not hear, but went trudging on and did not know until
they looked round just in time to see me arrive on top again. They then
waited for us to come up with them. The Captain asked if I was all right
and could go on again, which I could honestly say 'Yes' to, and at night
when we stopped for dinner I felt I could do two dinners in. Anyhow we
had a pretty good tuck-in. Dinner consisted of pemmican, biscuits,
chocolate éclair, pony meat, plum pudding and crystallized ginger and
four caramels each. We none of us could hardly move."[247]]
We had done over eight miles at lunch. I had managed to scrape together
from the Barrier rations enough extra food to allow us a stick of
chocolate each for lunch, with two spoonfuls of raisins each in our tea.
In the afternoon we got clear of crevasses pretty soon, but towards the
end of the afternoon Captain Scott got fairly wound up and went on and
on. The breeze died down and my breath kept fogging my glasses, and our
windproofs got oppressively warm and altogether things were pretty
rotten. At last he stopped and we found we had done 14¾ miles. He said,
"What about fifteen miles for Christmas Day?" so we gladly went
on--anything definite is better than indefinite trudging.
We had a great feed which I had kept hidden and out of the official
weights since our departure from Winter Quarters. It consisted of a good
fat hoosh with pony meat and ground biscuit; a chocolate hoosh made of
water, cocoa, sugar, biscuit, raisins, and thickened with a spoonful of
arrowroot. (This is the most satisfying stuff imaginable.) Then came 2½
square inches of plum-duff each, and a good mug of cocoa washed down the
whole. In addition to this we had four caramels each and four squares of
crystallized ginger. I positively could not eat all mine, and turned in
feeling as if I had made a beast of myself. I wrote up my journal--in
fact I should have liked somebody to put me to bed.
December 26. We have seen many new ranges of mountains extending to the
S.E. of the Dominion Range. They are very distant, however, and must
evidently be the top of those bounding the Barrier. They could only be
seen from the tops of the ridges as waves up which we are continually
mounting. Our height yesterday morning by hypsometer was 8000 feet. That
is our last hypsometer record, as I had the misfortune to break the
thermometer. The hypsometer was one of my chief delights, and nobody
could have been more disgusted than myself at its breaking. However, we
have the aneroid to check the height. We are going gradually up and up.
As one would expect, a considerable amount of lassitude was felt over
breakfast after our feed last night. The last thing on earth I wanted to
do was to ship the harness round my poor tummy when we started. As usual
a stiff breeze from the south and a temperature of -7° blew in our faces.
Strange to say, however, we don't get frost-bitten. I suppose it is the
open-air life.
I could not tell if I had a frost-bite on my face now, as it is all
scales, so are my lips and nose. A considerable amount of red hair is
endeavouring to cover up matters. We crossed several ridges, and after
the effects of over-feeding had worn off did a pretty good march of
thirteen miles.
[No more Christmas Days, so no more big hooshes.[248]]
December 27. There is something the matter with our sledge or our team,
as we have an awful slog to keep up with the others. I asked Dr. Bill and
he said their sledge ran very easily. Ours is nothing but a desperate
drag with constant rallies to keep up. We certainly manage to do so, but
I am sure we cannot keep this up for long. We are all pretty well done up
to-night after doing 13.3 miles.
Our salvation is on the summits of the ridges, where hard névé and
sastrugi obtain, and we skip over this slippery stuff and make up lost
ground easily. In soft snow the other team draw steadily ahead, and it is
fairly heart-breaking to know you are putting your life out hour after
hour while they go along with little apparent effort.
December 28. The last few days have been absolutely cloudless, with
unbroken sunshine for twenty-four hours. It sounds very nice, but the
temperature never comes above zero and what Shackleton called "the
pitiless increasing wind" of the great plateau continues to blow at all
times from the south. It never ceases, and all night it whistles round
the tents, all day it blows in our faces. Sometimes it is S.S.E., or S.E.
to S., and sometimes even S. to W., but always southerly, chiefly
accompanied by low drift which at night forms quite a deposit round the
sledges. We expected this wind, so we must not growl at getting it. It
will be great fun sailing the sledges back before it. As far as weather
is concerned we have had remarkably fine days up here on this limitless
snow plain. I should like to know what there is beneath us--mountains and
valleys simply levelled off to the top with ice? We constantly come
across disturbances which I can only imagine are caused by the peaks of
ice-covered mountains, and no doubt some of the ice-falls and crevasses
are accountable to the same source. Our coming west has not cleared them,
as we have seen more disturbances to the west, many miles away. However,
they are getting less and less, and are now nothing but featureless rises
with apparently no crevasses. Our first two hours' pulling to-day....
* * * * *
_From Lashly's Diary_
December 29, 1911. A nasty head wind all day and low drift which
accumulates in patches and makes it the deuce of a job to get along. We
have got to put in long days to do the distance.
December 30, 1911. Sledges going heavy, surface and wind the same as
yesterday. We depôted our ski to-night, that is the party returning
_to-morrow_, when we march in the forenoon and camp to change our sledge
runners into 10 feet. Done 11 miles but a bit stiff.
December 31, 1911. After doing 7 miles we camped and done the sledges
which took us until 11 P.M., and we had to dig out to get them done by
then, made a depôt and saw the old year out and the new year in. We all
wondered where we should be next New Year. It was so still and quiet; the
weather was dull and overcast all night, in fact we have not seen much of
the sun lately; it would be so nice if we could sometimes get a glimpse
of it, the sun is always cheering.
January 1912. _New Year's Day._ We pushed on as usual, but were rather
late getting away, 9.10--something unusual for us to be as late. The
temperature and wind is still very troublesome. We are now ahead of
Shackleton's dates and have passed the 87th parallel, so it is only 180
miles to the Pole.
January 2, 1912. The dragging is still very heavy and we seem to be
always climbing higher. We are now over 10,000 feet above sea level. It
makes it bad as we don't get enough heat in our food and the tea is not
strong enough to run out of the pot. Everything gets cold so quickly, the
water boils at about 196° F.
* * * * *
Scott's own diary of this first fortnight on the plateau shows the
immense shove of the man: he was getting every inch out of the miles,
every ounce out of his companions. Also he was in a hurry, he always was.
That blizzard which had delayed him just before the Gateway, and the
resulting surfaces which had delayed him in the lower reaches of the
glacier! One can feel the averages running through his brain: so many
miles to-day: so many more to-morrow. When shall we come to an end of
this pressure? Can we go straight or must we go more west? And then the
great undulating waves with troughs eight miles wide, and the buried
mountains, causing whirlpools in the ice--how immense, and how annoying.
The monotonous march: the necessity to keep the mind concentrated to
steer amongst disturbances: the relief of a steady plod when the
disturbances cease for a time: then more pressure and more crevasses.
Always slog on, slog on. Always a fraction of a mile more.... On December
30 he writes, "We have caught up Shackleton's dates."[249]
They made wonderful marches, averaging nearly fifteen statute miles (13
geog.) a day for the whole-day marches until the Second Return Party
turned back on January 4. Scott writes on December 26, "It seems
astonishing to be disappointed with a march of 15 (statute) miles when I
had contemplated doing little more than 10 with full loads."[250]
The Last Returning Party came back with the news that Scott must reach
the Pole with the greatest ease. This seemed almost a certainty: and yet
it was, as we know now, a false impression. Scott's plans were based on
Shackleton's averages over the same country. The blizzard came and put
him badly behind: but despite this he caught Shackleton up. No doubt the
general idea then was that Scott was going to have a much easier time
than he had expected. We certainly did not realize then, and I do not
think Scott himself had any notion of, the price which had been paid.
Of the three teams of four men each which started from the bottom of the
Beardmore, Scott's team was a very long way the strongest: it was the
team which, with one addition, went to the Pole. Lieutenant Evans' team
had mostly done a lot of man-hauling already: it was hungry and I think a
bit stale. Bowers' team was fresh and managed to keep up for the most
part, but it was very done at the end of the day. Scott's own team went
along with comparative ease. From the top of the glacier two teams went
on during the last fortnight of which we have been speaking. The first of
them was Scott's unit complete, just as it had pulled up the glacier. The
second team consisted, I believe, of the men whom Scott considered to be
the strongest; two from Evans' team, and two from Bowers'. All Scott's
team were fresh to the extent that they had done no man-hauling until we
started up the glacier. But two of the other team, Lieutenant Evans and
Lashly, had been man-hauling since the breakdown of the second motor on
November 1. They had man-hauled four hundred statute miles farther than
the rest. Indeed Lashly's man-hauling journey from Corner Camp to beyond
87° 32´ S., and back, is one of the great feats of polar travelling.
Surely and not very slowly, Scott's team began to wear down the other
team. They were going easily when the others were making heavy weather
and were sometimes far behind. During the fortnight they rose, according
to the corrected observations, from 7151 feet (Upper Glacier Depôt) to
9392 feet above sea level (Three Degree Depôt). The rarefied air of the
Plateau with its cold winds and lower temperatures, just now about -10°
to -12° at night and -3° during the day, were having their effect on the
second team, as well as the forced marches. This is quite clear from
Scott's diary, and from the other diaries also. What did not appear until
after the Last Returning Party had turned homewards was that the first
team was getting worn out too. This team which had gone so strong up the
glacier, which had done those amazingly good marches on the plateau,
broke up unexpectedly and in some respects rapidly from the 88th parallel
onwards.
Seaman Evans was the first man to crack. He was the heaviest, largest,
most muscular man we had, and that was probably one of the main reasons:
for his allowance of food was the same as the others. But one mishap
which contributed to his collapse seems to have happened during this
first fortnight on the plateau. On December 31 the 12-feet sledges were
turned into 10-feet ones by stripping off the old scratched runners which
had come up the glacier and shipping new 10-feet ones which had been
brought for the purpose. This job was done by the seamen, and Evans
appears to have had some accident to his hand, which is mentioned several
times afterwards.
Meanwhile Scott had to decide whom he was going to take on with him to
the Pole,--for it was becoming clear that in all probability he _would_
reach the Pole: "What castles one builds now hopefully that the Pole is
ours," he wrote the day after the supporting party left him. The final
advance to the Pole was, according to plan, to have been made by four
men. We were organized in four-man units: our rations were made up for
four men for a week: our tents held four men: our cookers held four mugs,
four pannikins and four spoons. Four days before the Supporting Party
turned, Scott ordered the second sledge of four men to depôt their ski.
It is clear, I suppose, that at this time he meant the Polar Party to
consist of four men. I think there can be no doubt that he meant one of
those men to be himself: "for your own ear also, I am exceedingly fit and
can go with the best of them," he wrote from the top of the glacier.[251]
He changed his mind and went forward a party of five: Scott, Wilson,
Bowers, Oates and Seaman Evans. I am sure he wished to take as many men
as possible to the Pole. He sent three men back: Lieutenant Evans in
charge, and two seamen, Lashly and Crean. It is the vivid story of those
three men, who turned on January 4 in latitude 87° 32´, which is told by
Lashly in the next chapter. Scott wrote home: "A last note from a hopeful
position. I think it's going to be all right. We have a fine party going
forward and arrangements are all going well."[252]
Ten months afterwards we found their bodies.
FOOTNOTES:
[247] Lashly's diary.
[248] Lashly's diary.
[249] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 525.
[250] Ibid. p. 521.
[251] _Scott's Last Expedition_, vol. i. p. 513.
[252] Ibid. p. 529.
CHAPTER XII
THE POLAR JOURNEY (_continued_)
THE DEVIL. And these are the creatures in whom you discover what
you call a Life Force!
DON JUAN. Yes; for now comes the most surprising part of the
whole business.
THE STATUE. What's that?
DON JUAN. Why, that you can make any of these cowards brave by
simply putting an idea into his head.
THE STATUE. Stuff! As an old soldier I admit the cowardice: it's
as universal as sea sickness, and matters just as little. But
that about putting an idea into a man's head is stuff and
nonsense. In a battle all you need to make you fight is a little
hot blood and the knowledge that it's more dangerous to lose than
to win.
DON JUAN. That is perhaps why battles are so useless. But men
never really overcome fear until they imagine they are fighting
to further a universal purpose--fighting for an idea, as they
call it.
BERNARD SHAW, _Man and Superman._
IV. RETURNING PARTIES
Two Dog Teams (Meares and Dimitri) turned back from the bottom of the
Beardmore Glacier on December 11, 1911. They reached Hut Point on January
4, 1912.
First Supporting Party (Atkinson, Cherry-Garrard, Wright, Keohane) turned
back in lat. 85° 15´ on December 22, 1911. They reached Hut Point January
26, 1912.
Last Supporting Party (Lieut. Evans, Lashly, Crean) turned back in lat.
87° 32´ on January 4, 1912. They reached Hut Point February 22, 1912.
Of the three teams which started up the Beardmore Glacier the first to
return, a fortnight after starting the Summit Rations, was known as the
First Supporting Party: the second to return, a month after starting the
Summit Rations, was known as the Last Supporting Party. Of the two
dog-teams under Meares, which had already turned homewards at the bottom
of the glacier after having been brought forward farther than had been
intended, I will speak later.[253]
I am going to say very little about the First Return Party, which
consisted of Atkinson, Wright, Keohane and myself. Atkinson was in
command, and before we left Scott told him to bring the dog-teams out to
meet the Polar Party if, as seemed likely, Meares returned home. Atkinson
is a naval surgeon and you will find this party referred to in Lashly's
diary as "the Doctor's."
"It was a sad job saying good-bye. It was thick, snowing and drifting
clouds when we started back after making the depôt, and the last we saw
of them as we swung the sledge north was a black dot just disappearing
over the next ridge and a big white pressure wave ahead of them.... Scott
said some nice things when we said good-bye. Anyway he has only to
average seven miles a day to get to the Pole on full rations--it's
practically a cert for him. I do hope he takes Bill and Birdie. The view
over the ice-falls and pressure by the Mill Glacier from the top of the
ice-falls is one of the finest things I have ever seen. Atch is doing us
proud."[254]
No five hundred mile journey down the Beardmore and across the Barrier
can be uneventful, even in midsummer. We had the same dreary drag, the
same thick weather, fears and anxieties which other parties have had. A
touch of the same dysentery and sickness: the same tumbles and crevasses:
the same Christmas comforts, a layer of plum pudding at the bottom of our
cocoa, and some rocks collected from a moraine under the Cloudmaker: the
same groping for tracks: the same cairns lost and found, the same
snow-blindness and weariness, nightmares, food dreams.... Why repeat?
Comparatively speaking it was a very little journey: and yet the distance
from Cape Evans to the top of the Beardmore Glacier and back is 1164
statute miles. Scott's Southern Journey of 1902-3 was 950 statute miles.
One day only is worth recalling. We got into the same big pressure above
the Cloudmaker which both the other parties experienced. But where the
other two parties made east to get out of it, we went west at Wright's
suggestion: west was right. The day really lives in my memory because of
the troubles of Keohane. He fell into crevasses to the full length of his
harness eight times in twenty-five minutes. Little wonder he looked a bit
dazed. And Atkinson went down into one chasm head foremost: the worst
crevasse fall I've ever seen. But luckily the shoulder straps of his
harness stood the strain and we pulled him up little the worse.
All three parties off the plateau owed a good deal to Meares, who, on his
return with the two dog-teams, built up the cairns which had been
obliterated by the big blizzard of December 5-8. The ponies' walls were
drifted level with the surface, and Meares himself had an anxious time
finding his way home. The dog tracks also helped us a good deal: the dogs
were sinking deeply and making heavy weather of it.
[Illustration: ADAMS MOUNTAINS]
[Illustration: Cherry-Garrard. Keohane. Atkinson--FIRST RETURN PARTY]
At the Barrier Depôts we found rather despondent notes from Meares about
his progress. To the Southern Barrier Depôt he had uncomfortably high
temperatures and a very soft surface, and found the cairns drifted up and
hard to see. At the Middle Barrier Depôt we found a note from him dated
December 20. "Thick weather and blizzards had delayed him, and once he
had got right off the tracks and had been out from his camp hunting for
them. They were quite well: a little eye strain from searching for
cairns. He was taking a little butter from each bag [of the three depôted
weekly units], and with this would have enough to the next depôt on short
rations."[255] At the Upper Glacier Depôt [Mount Hooper] the news from
Meares was dated Christmas Eve, in the evening: "The dogs were going
slowly but steadily in very soft stuff, especially his last two days.
He was running short of food, having only biscuit crumbs, tea, some
cornflour, and half a cup of pemmican. He was therefore taking fifty
biscuits, and a day's provisions for two men from each of our units. He
had killed one American dog some camps back: if he killed more he was
going to kill Krisravitza who he said was the fattest and laziest. We
shall take on thirty biscuits short."[256] Meares was to have turned
homewards with the two dog-teams in lat. 81° 15´. Scott took him on to
approximately 83° 35´. The dogs had the ponies on which to feed: to make
up the deficiency of man-food we went one biscuit a day short when going
up the Beardmore: but the dogs went back slower than was estimated and
his provisions were insufficient. It was evident that the dog-teams would
arrive too late and be too done to take out the food which had still to
be sledged to One Ton for the three parties returning from the plateau.
It was uncertain whether a man-hauling party with such of this food as
they could drag would arrive at the depôt before us.[257] We might have
to travel the 130 geographical miles from One Ton to Hut Point on the
little food which was already at that depôt and we were saving food by
going on short rations to meet this contingency if it arose. Judge
therefore our joy when we reached One Ton in the evening of January 15 to
find three of the five XS rations which were necessary for the three
parties. A man-hauling party consisting of Day, Nelson, Hooper and
Clissold had brought out this food; they left a note saying the crevasses
near Corner Camp were bad and open. Day and Hooper had reached Cape Evans
from the Barrier[258] on December 21: they started out again on this
depôt-laying trip on December 26.
It is a common experience for men who have been hungry to be ill after
reaching plenty of food. Atkinson was not at all well during our journey
in to Hut Point, which we reached without difficulty on January 26.
When I was looking for data concerning the return of the Last Supporting
Party of which no account has been published, I wrote to Lashly and asked
him to meet and tell me all he could remember. He was very willing, and
added that somewhere or other he had a diary which he had written:
perhaps it might be of use? I asked him to send it me, and was sent some
dirty thumbed sheets of paper. And this is what I read:
_3rd January 1912._
Very heavy going to-day. This will be our last night together, as we are
to return to-morrow after going on in the forenoon with the party chosen
for the Pole, that is Capt. Scott, Dr. Wilson, Capt. Oates, Lieut. Bowers
and Taff Evans. The Captain said he was satisfied we were all in good
condition, fit to do the journey, but only so many could go on, so it was
his wish Mr. Evans, Crean and myself should return. He was quite aware we
should have a very stiff job, but we told him we did not mind that,
providing he thought they could reach the Pole with the assistance we had
been able to give them. The first time I have heard we were having mules
coming down to assist us next year. I was offering to remain at Hut
Point, to be there if any help was needed, but the Captain said it was
his and also Capt. Oates' wish if the mules arrived I was to take charge
of and look after them until their return; but if they did not arrive
there was no reason why I should not come to Hut Point and wait their
return. We had a long talk with the owner [Scott] in our tent about
things in general and he seemed pretty confident of success. He seemed a
bit afraid of us getting hung up, but as he said we had a splendid
navigator, who he was sure he could trust to pull us through. He also
thanked us all heartily for the way we had assisted in the Journey and he
should be sorry when we parted. We are of course taking the mail, but
what a time before we get back to send it. We are nearly as far as
Shackleton was on his Journey. I shall not write more to-night, it is too
cold.
_4th January 1912._
We accompanied the Pole party for about five miles and everything seemed
to be going pretty well and Capt. Scott said they felt confident they
could pull the load quite well, so there was no more need for us to go
on farther; so we stopped and did all the talking we could in a short
time. We wished them every success and a safe return, and asked each one
if there was anything we could do for them when we got back, but they
were all satisfied they had left nothing undone, so the time came for the
last handshake and good-bye. I think we all felt it very much. They then
wished us a speedy return and safe, and then they moved off. We gave them
three cheers, and watched them for a while until we began to feel cold.
Then we turned and started for home. We soon lost sight of each other. We
travelled a long time so as to make the best of it while the weather was
suitable, as we have to keep up a good pace on the food allowance. It
wont do to lay up much. One thing since we left Mt. Darwin, we have had
weather we could travel in, although we have not seen the sun much of
late. We did 13 miles as near as we can guess by the cairns we have
passed. We have not got a sledge meter so shall have to go by guess all
the way home.
[Owing to the loss of a sledge meter on the Beardmore Glacier one of the
three parties had to return without one. A sledge meter gives the
navigator his dead reckoning, indicating the miles travelled, like the
log of a ship. To be deprived of it in a wilderness of snow without
landmarks adds enormously to the difficulties and anxieties of a sledge
party.]
_5th January 1912._
We were up and off this morning, the weather being fine but the surface
is about the same, the temperature keeps low. We have got to change our
pulling billets. Crean has become snow-blind to-day through being leader,
so I shall have the job to-morrow, as Mr. Evans seems to get blind rather
quickly, so if I lead and he directs me from behind we ought to get along
pretty well. I hope my eyes will keep alright. We made good 17 miles and
camped.
_6th January 1912._
We are making good progress on the surface we have to contend with. We
picked up the 3 Degree Depôt soon after noon, which puts us up to time.
We took our provision for a week. We have got to reach Mt. Darwin Depôt,
a distance of 120 miles, with 7 days' provisions. We picked up our ski
and camped for the night. We have been wondering if the others have got
the same wind as us. If so it is right in their face, whereas it is at
our back, a treat to what it is facing it. Crean's eyes are pretty bad
to-night. Snow-blindness is an awful complaint, and no one I can assure
you looks forward with pleasure when it begins to attack.
_7th January 1912._
We have had a very good day as far as travelling goes, the wind has been
behind us and is a great help to us. We have been on ski all day for the
first time. It seems a good change to footing it, the one thing day after
day gets on one's nerves. Crean's eyes are a bit better to-day, but far
from being well. The temperature is pretty low, which dont improve the
surface for hauling, but we seem to be getting along pretty well. We have
no sledge meter so we have to go by guess. Mr. Evans says we done 17½
miles, but I say 16½. I am not going to over-estimate our day's run, as I
am taking charge of the biscuits so that we dont over-step the mark. This
we have all agreed to so that we should exactly know how we stand, from
day to day. I am still leading, not very nice as the light is bad. We
caught a glimpse of the land to the east of us, but could only have been
a mirage.
_8th January 1912._
On turning out this morning we found it was blowing a bliz. so it was
almost a case of having to remain in camp, but on second thoughts we
thought it best to kick off as we cant afford to lay up on account of
food, so thought it best to push on. I wonder if the Pole Party have
experienced this. If so they could not travel as it would be in their
face, where we have got it at our back. We have lost the outward bound
track, so have decided to make a straight line to Mt. Darwin, which will
be on Shackleton's course according to his and Wild's Diary.
[Each of the three parties which went forward up the Beardmore Glacier
carried extracts from the above diaries. Wild was Shackleton's right-hand
man in his Southern Journey in 1908.]
_9th January 1912._
Travelling is very difficult, bad light and still blizzing; it would have
been impossible to keep in touch with the cairns in this weather. I am
giving 12 miles to-night. The weather have moderated a bit and looks a
bit more promising. Can see land at times.
_10th January 1912._
The light is still very bad, with a good deal of drift, but we must push
on as we are a long way from our depôt, but we hope to reach it before
our provisions run out. I am keeping a good eye on them. Crean's eyes
have got alright again now.
_11th January 1912._
Things are a bit better to-day. Could see the land alright and where to
steer for. It is so nice to have something to look at, but I am thinking
we shall all have our work cut out to reach the depôt before our
provisions run short. I am deducting a small portion each meal so that we
shall not have to go without altogether if we don't bring up at the
proper time. Have done about 14 miles.
_12th January 1912._
The day has been full of adventure. At first we got into some very rough
stuff, with plenty of crevasses. Had to get rid of the ski and put our
thinking cap on, as we had not got under way long before we were at the
top of some ice-falls; these probably are what Shackleton spoke of. We
could see it meant a descent of 600/700 feet, or make a big circuit,
which meant a lot of time and a big delay, and this we cant afford just
now, so we decided on the descent into the valley. This proved a
difficult task, as we had no crampons, having left them at Mt. Darwin
Depôt; but we managed after a time by getting hold of the sledge each
side and allowing her to run into a big lump of pressure which was we
knew a risky thing to do. It took us up to lunch time to reach the
valley, where we camped for lunch, where we all felt greatly relieved,
having accomplished the thing safely, no damage to ourselves or the
sledge, but we lost one of Crean's ski sticks. Some of the crevasses we
crossed were 100 to 200 feet wide, but well bridged in the centre, but
the edges were very dangerous indeed. This is where the snow and ice
begins to roll down the glacier. After starting on our way again we found
we had to climb the hill. Things dont look very nice ahead again
to-night. We dont seem to be more than a day's run from the depôt, but it
will surprise me if we reach it by to-morrow night; if not we shall have
to go on short rations, as our supply is nearly run out, and we have not
lost any time, but we knew on starting we had to average 15½ miles per
day to reach it in time.
_13th January 1912._
This has been a very bad day for us, what with ice-falls and crevasses.
We feel all full up to-night. The strain is tremendous some days. We are
camped, but not at the depôt, but we hope to pick it up some time
to-morrow. We shall be glad to get off the Summit, as the temperature is
very low. We expected the party would have reached the Pole yesterday,
providing they had anything of luck.
[Scott reached the Pole on January 17.]
_14th January 1912._
Sunday, we reached the Mt. Darwin Depôt at 2 P.M. and camped for lunch.
We had just enough now for our meal; this is cutting it a bit fine. We
have now taken our 3½ days' allowance, which has got to take us another
57 miles to the Cloudmaker Depôt. This we shall do if we all keep as fit
as we seem just now. We left a note at the depôt to inform the Captain of
our safe arrival, wishing them the best of a journey home. We are quite
cheerful here to-night, after having put things right at the depôt, where
we found the sugar exposed to the sun; it had commenced to melt, but we
put everything alright before we left, and picked up our crampons and
got away as soon as we could. We know there is not much time to spare. We
are now beginning to descend rapidly. To-night it is quite warm, and our
tea and food is warmer. Things are going pretty favourable. We are
looking forward to making good runs down the glacier. We have had some
very heavy dragging lately [up] the sharp rises we found on the outward
journey. After a sharp rise we found a long gradual run down, two and
three miles in length. We noticed this on our outward journey and
remarked on it, but coming back the long uphill drag we found out was
pretty heavy work.
_15th January 1912._
Had a good run to-day but the ice was very rough and very much crevassed,
but with crampons on we made splendid progress. We did not like to stop,
but we thought it would not be advisable to overdo our strength as it is
a long way to go yet.
_16th January 1912._
We made good headway again to-day, but to-night we camped in some very
rough ice and pressure ridges. We are under the impression we are
slightly out of our proper course, but Mr. Evans thinks we cant be very
far out either way, and Crean and I are of the same opinion according to
the marks on the land. Anyhow we hope to get out of it in the morning and
make the Cloudmaker Depôt by night. We shall then feel safe, but the
weather dont look over promising again to-night, I am thinking. So far we
have not had to stop for weather. We have wondered if the Pole Party have
been as lucky with the weather as we have. They ought by now to be
homeward bound. We have more chance now of writing as the temperature is
much better down here. To-night we have been discussing how the dogs got
home, and also the progress made by the Doctor's [Atkinson] Party. They
ought to be nearing home. We have thought of the time it will take us to
reach it at the rate we are getting along now.
_17th January 1912._
We have to-day experienced what we none of us ever wants to be our lot
again. I cannot describe the maze we got into and the hairbreadth escapes
we have had to pass through to-day. This day we shall remember all our
lives. The more we tried to get clear the worse the pressure got; at
times it seemed almost impossible for us to get along, and when we had
got over the places it was more than we could face to try and retreat; so
we struggled on for hours to try and free ourselves, but everything
seemed against us. I was leading with a long trace so that I could get
across some of the ridges when we thought it possible to get the sledge
over without being dashed down into the fathomless pits each side of us
which were too numerous to think of. Often and often we saw openings
where it was possible to drop the biggest ship afloat in and loose her.
This is what we have travelled over all day. It has been a great strain
on us all, and Mr. Evans is rather down and thinks he has led us into
such a hole, but as we have told him it is no fault of his, as it is
impossible for anyone coming down the glacier to see what is ahead of
them, so we must be thankful that we are so far safe. To-night we seem to
be in a better place. We have camped not being able to reach the depôt,
which we are certain is not far off. Dont want many days like this.
[Illustration: BELOW THE CLOUDMAKER]
_18th January 1912._
We started off all in good spirits trusting we should be able to reach
the depôt all in good time, but we had not got far before we came into
pressure far worse than we were in yesterday. My God! what a day this
have been for us all. I cannot describe what we really have to-day come
through, no one could believe that we came through with safety, if we had
only had a camera we could have obtained some photographs that would have
surprised anyone living. We travelled all day with very little food, as
we are a day and a half overdue, but when we got clear, I can say "clear"
now because I am dotting down this at the depôt where we have arrived. I
had managed to keep behind just a small amount of biscuit and a drop of
tea to liven us up to try and reach the depôt, which we reached at 11
P.M. after one of the most trying days of my life. Shall have reason to
never forget the 17 and 18 of January, 1912. To-night Mr. Evans is
complaining of his eyes, more trouble ahead!
_19th January 1912._
After putting the depôt in order and re-arranging things, we kicked off
again for D. [Lower Glacier] Depôt. Mr. Evans' eyes were very bad on
starting this morning, but we made a pretty good start. I picked some
rock to-day which I intend to try and get back with, as it is the only
chance we have had of getting any up to the present, and it seemed a
funny thing: the rock I got some pieces of looked as if someone before me
had been chipping some off. I wonder if it was the Doctor's party, but we
could not see any trace of their sledge, but we could account for that,
as it was all blue ice and not likely to leave any marks behind. After
travelling for some distance we got on the same ridge as we ran along on
the outward Journey and passed what we took to be the Doctor's Xmas Camp.
We had not gone far past before we got into soft snow, so we decided to
camp for lunch. Mr. Evans' eyes being very bad indeed, we are travelling
now on our own, I am leading and telling him the course I am steering,
that is the different marks on the mountains, but we shall keep on this
ridge for some distance yet. After lunch to-day we did not proceed far
before we decided to camp, the surface being so bad and Mr. Evans' eyes
so bad, we thought it would do us all good to have a rest. Last night we
left a note for Capt. Scott, but did not say much about our difficulties
just above the Cloudmaker, as it would be better to tell him when we see
him.
_20th January 1912._
We did not get away very smart to-day, but as we found the surface very
soft, we decided to go on ski. Mr. Evans is still suffering with his eyes
and badly, after getting his ski on we tied him on to the trace so that
he could help to drag a bit, when we were troubling about the ridges we
came over on our outward Journey, but strange to say we never
encountered any ridges at all and the surface, although very soft, was
the best I have ever sledged over ever since I have been at it. We
fancied on our left or to the west we saw what we took to be the ridges
what we seem to have missed altogether, although Mr. Evans have been
blind and could not see anything at all we have made splendid progress
and covered at least 20 miles, as near as we can guess. We passed to-day
one of the Doctor's homeward bound camps, and kept on their track for
some time, but finally lost it. We are camped to-night and we all feel
confident we shall, if the weather remains good, reach the depôt
to-morrow night.
_21st January 1912._
Sunday: We started off as usual, again on ski, the weather again being
favourable. Mr. Evans' eyes is still bad, but improving. It will be a
good job when they are better. I picked up our outward bound course soon
after we started this morning and asked Mr. Evans if I should try and
keep it, as it will save him the trouble of directing me, and another
thing we came out without going through any crevasses and I have noticed
a good many crevasses to-day what seems to be very dangerous ones, and on
two occasions where our sledges [on the outward journey] had gone over,
two of the crevasses had fallen through. We accomplished the journey from
the Cloudmaker to this depôt in three days. We all feel quite proud of
our performance. Mr. Evans is a lot better to-night and old Tom is giving
us a song while he is covering up the tent with snow. We have re-arranged
the depôt and left our usual note for Capt. Scott, wishing them a speedy
return. To-morrow we hope to see and reach the Barrier, and be clear of
the Beardmore for ever. We none of us minds the struggle we have been
through to attain the amount of success so far reached. It is all for the
good of science, as Crean says. We reached the depôt at 6.45 P.M.
[Illustration: FROM MOUNT KYFFIN TO MOUNT PATRICK--E. A. Wilson, del.
Emery Walker Limited, Collotypers.]
_22nd January 1912._
We made a good start this morning and Mr. Evans' eyes is got pretty well
alright again, so things looks a bit brighter. After starting we soon
got round the corner from the Granite Pillars to between the mainland and
Mt. Hope, on rising up on the slope between the mountain and the
mainland, as soon as we sighted the Barrier, Crean let go one huge yell
enough to frighten the ponies out of their graves of snow, and no more
Beardmore for me after this. When we began to descend on to the Barrier
it only required one of us to drag the sledge down to within a mile of
the pony and sledge depôt, after exchanging our sledge as arranged,
picking up a small amount of pony meat, and fitted up bamboo for mast so
that we shall be able to fix up a sail when favourable, we proceeded on
our way to cross the Barrier. We have now 360 miles to travel
geographically to get to Hut Point. Mr. Evans complained to me while
outside the tent that he had a stiffness at the back of his legs behind
the knees. I asked him what he thought it was, and he said could not
account for it, so if he dont soon get rid of it I am to have a look and
see if anything is the matter with him, as I know from what I have seen
and been told before the symptoms of scurvy is pains and swelling behind
the knee round the ankle and loosening of the teeth, ulcerated gums.
To-night I watched to see his gums, and I am convinced he is on the point
of something anyhow, and this I have spoken to Crean about, but he dont
seem to realise it. But I have asked him to wait developments for a time.
It seems we are in for more trouble now, but lets hope for the best.
_23rd January 1912._
We got away pretty well and did a good journey, having covered about 14
miles over a fairly good surface. We have passed the Blizzard Camp and
glad of it too, again to-day we saw in several places where the bridges
on the crevasses had fallen through. A good job they none of them fell
through when we were going over them as the width would have taken all
through with them, and in every case where they had fallen through was
where we had gone over, as the mark of the sledge was very distinct in
each case. Mr. Evans seems better to-day.
_24th January 1912._
Did a good run to-day over a good surface. The weather have been very
warm, not much to write to-night as everything is going well.
_25th January 1912._
Started off in very thick weather, the temperature is very high and the
snow is wet and clogging all day on our ski, which made dragging heavy,
and towards evening it got worse. After lunch we got a good breeze for an
hour, when it changed to a blizzard and almost rained. We saw the depôt
ahead sometimes, so we tried to reach it as we thought we might be in for
another few days like we had near the land on our outward journey. Anyhow
we reached it after a tremendous struggle owing to the wet and bad light.
I took off my ski and carried them on my shoulder to finish up the last
half a mile. The blizzard died down after we had camped and turned in for
the night. Looked at the thermometer which showed 34.
_26th January 1912._
This have been a most wonderful day for surface. This morning when we
started the thermometer stood at 34, much too high for sledging. We were
on ski or we might have been on stilts for the amount of snow clogging on
our ski, dont know how we should have got on without our ski, as the snow
was so very soft we sank right in when we tried to go on foot, but we
were fortunate to get the wind behind us and able to make use of the
sail. We made a very good day of it, did 13 miles: 8 of this after lunch.
I did not feel well outside the tent this morning. I came over quite
giddy and faint, but it passed off quickly and have felt no more of it
all day.
_27th January 1912._
We had a good run to-day with the sail up. It only required one of us to
keep it straight, no need whatever to pull, but it was very hot, anyone
could take off all their clothes and march. It is really too hot for this
part of the world, but I daresay we shall soon get it a bit colder. Did
14½ miles, it is nice to be able to see the tracks and cairns of our
outward journey. We feel satisfied when we have done a good day and in
good time. Mr. Evans is now suffering from looseness of the bowels. Crean
had a touch of it a few days ago, but he is quite alright again.
_28th January 1912._
To-day it have been a very heavy drag. The snow is still very soft and
the sun very hot, it fairly scorches anyone's face. We are almost black
now and our hair is long and getting white through being exposed to the
light, it gets bleached. I am glad to say it is cooler to-night,
generally. We got over 12½ miles again to-day. Mr. Evans is still very
loose in his bowels. This, of course, hinders us, as we have had to stop
several times. Only another few more Sundays and we hope to be safely
housed at Hut Point, or Cape Evans. We have now been out 97 days.
_29th January 1912._
Another good day was helped by the sail all day. One man could again
manage for about two hours. The weather is still very warm, plus 20
again. Did 16½ miles, only 14 to the next depôt. Mr. Evans is still
suffering from the same complaint: have come to the conclusion to stop
his pemmican, as I feel that it have got something to do with him being
out of sorts. Anyhow we are going to try it. Gave him a little brandy and
he is taking some chalk and opium pills to try and stop it. His legs are
getting worse and we are quite certain he is suffering from scurvy, at
least he is turning black and blue and several other colours as well.
_30th January 1912._
Very bad light but fair wind, picked up the depôt this evening. Did the
14 miles quite in good time, after taking our food we found a shortage of
oil and have taken what we think will take us to the next depôt. There
seems to have been some leakage in the one can, but how we could not
account for that we have left a note telling Capt. Scott how we found it,
but they will have sufficient to carry them on to the next depôt, but we
all know the amount of oil allowed on the Journey is enough, but if any
waste takes place it means extra precautions in the handling of it. Mr.
Evans is still without pemmican and seems to have somewhat recovered from
the looseness, but things are not by a long way with him as they should
be. Only two more depôts now to pick up.
_31st January 1912._
Another very good run to-day but the light being very bad we had to
continually stop and steer by compass. This a difficult task, especially
as there was no wind to help keep on the course, but it have cleared
again to-night, the temperature is plus 20 in the day and 10 at night
just now. Did 13 miles. Mr. Evans is allowed a little pemmican as the
work is hard and it wants a little warm food to put life into anyone in
this part of the world.
_1st February 1912._
We had a very fine day but a very heavy pull, but we did 13 miles. Mr.
Evans and myself have been out 100 days to-day. I have had to change my
shirt again. This is the last clean side I have got. I have been wearing
two shirts and each side will now have done duty next the skin, as I have
changed round each month, and I have certainly found the benefit of it,
and on the point we all three agree. Mr. Evans is still gradually worse:
it is no good closing our eyes to the fact. We must push on as we have a
long way to go yet.
_2nd February 1912._
A very bad light again to-day: could not make much progress, only did 11
miles, but we must think ourselves lucky we have not had to lay up and
get delayed, but we have had the wind and more behind us, otherwise we
should have had to stop. Mr. Evans is no better but seems to be in great
pain, but he keeps quite cheerful we are pleased to say.
_3rd February 1912._
This morning we were forced to put Mr. Evans on his ski and strap him on,
as he could not lift his legs. I looked at them again and found they are
rapidly getting worse, things are looking serious on his part, but we
have been trying to pump him up he will get through alright, but he
begins to think different himself, but if we get to One Ton and can get a
change of food it may relieve him. He is a brick, there is plenty of
pluck: one cannot but admire such pluck. The light have been dreadful all
day and I seemed to have got a bit depressed at times, not being able to
see anything to know where I was on the course or not and not getting a
word from Mr. Evans. I deliberately went off the course to see if anyone
was taking notice but to my surprise I was quickly told I was off the
course. This I thought, but wanted to know if he was looking out, which
he was. It came on to bliz after we camped, we ought to reach Mt. Hooper
to-morrow night.
_4th February 1912._
Started in splendid weather, but the surface was bad and dragging was
very heavy, but it improved as the day went on, and we arrived at the
depôt at 7.40 P.M. We are now 180 miles from Hut Point, and this Sunday
night we hope to be only two more Sundays on the Barrier. No improvement
in Mr. Evans, much worse. We have taken out our food and left nearly all
the pemmican as we dont require it on account of none of us caring for
it, therefore we are leaving it behind for the others. They may require
it. We have left our note and wished them every success on their way, but
we have decided it is best not to say anything about Mr. Evans being ill
or suffering from scurvy. This old cairn have stood the weather and is
still a huge thing.
_5th February 1912._
Had a very fine day and a good light all day, which makes things much
more cheerful. Did not get away before 9 o'clock but we did 11½ miles, it
is gradually getting colder. Mr. Evans is still getting worse, to-day he
is suffering from looseness in the bowels: shall have to stop his
pemmican.
_6th February 1912._
Another fine day but sun was very hot and caused us to sweat a good deal,
but we dont mind as we are pretty used to such changes. We shall soon be
looking for land ahead, which will be Mt. Discovery or Mt. Erebus, we
have 155 miles to go to Hut Point: done alright again 13½ miles, we do
wonderfully well especially as Mr. Evans have got to go very slowly first
off after stopping until he gets the stiffness out of his legs, but he is
suffering a good deal and in silence, he never complains, but he dont get
much sleep. We shall all be glad when we arrive at One Ton, where there
is a change of food for us all. The pemmican is too much, especially when
the weather is warm.
_7th February 1912._
A very fine day but heavy going. We are bringing the land in sight. The
day have been simply lovely, did 12 miles. No better luck with our
patient, he gets along without a murmur. We have got to help him in and
out of the tent, but we have consulted on the matter and he is determined
to go to the last, which we know is not far off, as it is difficult for
him to stand, but he is the essence of a brick to keep it up, but we
shall have to drag him on the sledge when he cant go any further.
_8th February 1912._
To-day have been very favourable and fine, we had a good breeze and set
sail after lunch. If we get a good day to-morrow we hope to reach One
Ton. Mr. Evans have passed a good deal of blood to-day, which makes
things look a lot worse. I have to do nearly everything for him now.
_9th February 1912._
A very fine day and quite warm. Reached the depôt at 5.5 P.M. and we all
had a good feed of oatmeal. Oh, what a God-send to get a change of food!
We have taken enough food for 9 days, which if we still keep up our
present rate of progress it ought to take us in to Hut Point. We cannot
take too heavy a load, as there is only the two of us pulling now, and
this our last port of call before we reach Hut Point, but things are not
looking any too favourable for us, as our leader is gradually getting
lower every day. It is almost impossible for him to get along, and we
are still 120 miles from Hut Point.
_10th February 1912._
We did a good march, in very thick weather. To-night we are camped and I
am sorry to say Mr. Evans is in a very bad state. If this is scurvy I am
sorry for anyone it attacks. We shall do our utmost to get him back
alive, although he is so ill, he is very cheerful, which is very good and
tries to do anything to help us along. We are thinking the food, now we
have got a change, may improve things. I am very pleased to say Crean and
myself are in the best of health, which we are thankful for.
_11th February 1912._
To-day we built a cairn and left all our gear we could do without, as it
is impossible for us to drag the load now, and Mr. Evans we think is
doing well as long as he can keep on his legs. We have had a very bad
light all day, and to-night we have a bliz on us, so we had to camp
early. Our day's run has been 11 miles. We are now about 99 miles from
our base.
_12th February 1912._
We did not get away until 10 o'clock on account of bad weather, but after
we put Mr. Evans on his ski he went on slowly. It is against our wish to
have to send him on a little in advance, but it is best as we shall have
to drag him out of this we are certain. He has fainted on two or three
occasions, but after a drop of brandy he has been able to proceed, but it
is very awkward, especially as the temperature is so low. We are afraid
of his getting frost-bitten. Our progress is very slow, the light is very
bad, and it is seldom we see the land.
_13th February 1912._
We got away in good time, but progress was slow, and Mr. Evans could not
go, and we consulted awhile and came to the conclusion it would be best
to put him on the sledge, otherwise he may not pull through, so we
stopped and camped, and decided to drop everything we can possibly do
without, so we have only got our sleeping bags, cooker, and what little
food and oil we have left. Our load is not much, but Mr. Evans on the
sledge makes it pretty heavy work for us both, but he says he is
comfortable now. This morning he wished us to leave him, but this we
could not think of. We shall stand by him to the end one way or other, so
we are the masters to-day. He has got to do as we wish and we hope to
pull him through. This morning when we depôted all our gear I changed my
socks and got my foot badly frostbitten, and the only way was to fetch it
round. So although Mr. Evans was so bad he proposed to stuff it on his
stomach to try and get it right again. I did not like to risk such a
thing as he is certainly very weak, but we tried it, and it succeeded in
bringing it round, thanks to his thoughtfulness, and I shall never forget
the kindness bestowed on me at a critical time in our travels, but I
think we could go to any length of trouble to assist one another; in such
time and such a place we must trust in a higher power to pull us through.
When we pack up now and have to move off we have to get everything ready
before we attempt to move the tent, as it is impossible for our leader
now to stand, therefore it is necessary to get him ready before we start.
We then pull the sledge alongside his bag and lift him on to it and strap
him on. It is a painful piece of work and he takes it pretty well, but we
can't help hurting him, as it is very awkward to lift him, the snow being
soft and the light so bad, but he dont complain. The only thing we hear
him grind his teeth.
_14th February 1912._
Another good start after the usual preparation, we have not got much to
pack, but it takes us some time, to get our invalid ready, the surface is
very bad and our progress is very slow, but we have proposed to go longer
hours and try to cover the distance, that is if we can stick it
ourselves.
_15th February 1912._
We started in fine weather this morning, but it soon came over thick and
progress became slow. We had to continually consult the compass, as we
have had no wind to assist us, but after awhile the sun peeped out and
the wind sprang up and we were able to set sail, which helped us put in
a good march.
_16th February 1912._
To-day it have been a very heavy drag all day, and the light is very bad,
but we had the pleasure of seeing Castle Rock and Observation Hill. We
uncovered Mr. Evans to let him have a look and we have reduced our ration
now to one half as it is impossible for us to reach Hut Point under four
days, that is if everything goes favourable with us.
_17th February 1912._
To-day it has been thick, this morning soon after we started we saw what
we thought was the dog tent [the two dog-teams going out to meet the
Polar Party], a thing we had been looking for to try and get relief, but
when we came up to it we found it was only a piece of biscuit box stuck
on an old camp for a guide. It shows how deceiving the things here are. I
can tell you our hopes were raised, but on reaching it they dropped again
considerably. We were able to see the land occasionally, and during one
of the breaks this afternoon we spotted the motor. Oh, what joy! We again
uncovered Mr. Evans to let him have a look and after trudging along for
another three hours we brought up alongside it and camped for the night.
We are now only a little over 30 miles from Hut Point: if we could only
see the dogs approaching us, but they, we think, may have passed us while
the weather have been thick. Mr. Evans is getting worse every day, we are
almost afraid to sleep at night as he seems very weak. If the temperature
goes much lower it will be a job to keep him warm. We have found some
biscuits here at the motor but nothing else, but that will assist greatly
on our way. The slogging have been heavy all day. We are pretty tired
to-night. I dont think we have got the go in us we had, but we must try
and push on.
_18th February 1912._
I started to move Mr. Evans this morning, but he completely collapsed and
fainted away. Crean was very upset and almost cried, but I told him it
was no good to create a scene but put up a bold front and try to assist.
I really think he thought Mr. Evans had gone, but we managed to pull him
through. We used the last drop of brandy. After awhile we got him on the
sledge and proceeded as usual, but finding the surface very bad and we
were unable to make less than a mile an hour, we stopped and decided to
camp. We told Mr. Evans of our plans, which were: Crean should proceed,
it being a splendid day, on foot to Hut Point to obtain relief if
possible. This we had agreed to between ourselves. I offered to do the
Journey and Crean remain behind, but Tom said he would much rather I
stayed with the invalid and look after him, so I thought it best I should
remain, and these plans were agreed to by all of us, so after we had
camped the next thing was the food problem. We had about a day's
provisions with extra biscuit taken from the motor, and a little extra
oil taken from the same place, so we gave Crean what he thought he could
manage to accomplish the Journey of 30 miles geographical on, which was a
little chocolate and biscuits. We put him up a little drink, but he would
not carry it. What a pity we did not have some ski, but we dumped them to
save weight. So Crean sailed away in splendid weather for a try to bring
relief. I was in a bit of a sweat all day and remained up to watch the
weather till long after midnight. I was afraid of the weather, but it
kept clear and I thought he might have reached or got within easy
distance of Hut Point; but there was the possibility of his dropping down
a crevasse, but that we had to leave to chance, but none the more it was
anxious moments as if it comes on to drift the weather is very
treacherous in these parts. After Crean left I left Mr. Evans and
proceeded to Corner Camp which was about a mile away, to see if there was
any provisions left there that would be of use to us. I found a little
butter, a little cheese, and a little treacle that had been brought there
for the ponies. I also went back to the motor and got a little more oil
while the weather was fine. I also got a large piece of burbery and tied
on a long bamboo and stuck up a big flag on our sledge so that anyone
could not pass our way without seeing us or our flag. I found a note left
at Corner Camp by Mr. Day saying there was a lot of very bad crevasses
between there and the sea ice, especially off White Island. This put me
in a bit of a fix, as I, of course, at once thought of Crean. He being on
foot was more likely to go down than he would had he been on ski. I did
not tell Mr. Evans anything about the crevasses, as I certainly thought
it would be best kept from him. I just told him the note was there and
all was well.
_19th February 1912._
To-day Mr. Evans seems a bit better and more cheerful, the rest will do
him good and assist in getting a little strength. We have been wondering
when relief will reach us, but we cannot expect it for at least a day or
two yet at the earliest. It was very thick this morning and also very
cold. The temperature is dropping rapidly. Our tent was all covered in
frost rime to-day, a sure sign of colder weather. It was very thick this
morning but cleared as the day advanced, but we could not see Hut Point.
I wonder if poor old Tom reached alright. We have very little food now
except biscuit, but oil is better. We have got ½ gallon and if relief
dont come for some time we shall be able to have hot water when all other
things are gone. I have thought out a plan for the future, in case of no
relief coming, but of course we took all things into consideration in
case of failure, but we must hope for the best. Of course I know it is no
use thinking of Mr. Evans being able to move any further as he cant stand
at all, the only thing is, we may have missed the dogs, if so there is
still a chance of someone being at Hut Point. I am cold now and cannot
write more to-night. We lose the sun at midnight now. If all had went
well we should have been home by now.
_20th February 1912._
Tuesday not a nice day. A low drift all the morning and increased to a
blizzard at times. Have had to remain in the tent all day to try and keep
warm. Have not got much food except biscuits. Mr. Evans is about the same
but quite cheerful. We have had whole journey over and over: it have
passed these three days away. We have wondered how they are getting on
behind us; we have worked it out and they ought to be on the Barrier now,
with anything of luck. We have been gambling on the condition of the ice
and the possibility of the open water at Hut Point at any time now, and
also about what news of home, although home is one of the foremost
thoughts we hardly ever mention it, only what we are going to have to eat
when we do arrive there. I think we have got everything that is good down
on our list. Of course New Zealand have got to be answerable for a good
deal: plenty of apples we are going to have and some nice home-made cake,
not too rich, as we think we can eat more. I wonder if the mules will
have arrived, as I am to look after them till Capt. Oates returns, as
Anton will be gone home, or at least going soon. We shall have to hurry
up as the ship is to leave again on the 2nd of March, as it is not safe
to remain longer in these regions. I am now too cold to write, and I dont
seem settled at all and the weather is still pretty bad outside, so we
are not going to look for anything to come along to-night. "Hark!" from
us both. "Yes, it is the dogs near. Relief at last. Who is there?" I did
not stay to think more before I was outside the tent. "Yes, sir, it is
alright." The Doctor and Dimitri. "How did you see us?" "The flag Lash,"
says Dimitri. The Doctor, "How is Mr. Evans?" "Alright, but low." But
this had a good effect on him. After the first few minutes we got their
tent pitched and the food they brought us I was soon on the way preparing
a meal for us all, but Mr. Evans cannot have pemmican, but the Doctor
have brought everything that will do him good, some onions to boil and
several other things. Dimitri brought along a good lump of cake: we are
in clover. To-night after the Doctor had examined my patient and we got
through a good deal of talk about everything we could think of,
especially home news and the return parties and the ship and those in
her. We were sorry to hear she had not been able to get very near, and
that the mules had arrived, and I dont know what, we now settled down for
a good night. It seems to me we are in a new world, a weight is off my
mind and I can once more see a bright spot in the sky for us all, the
gloom is now removed. The bliz is bad outside, and Doctor and Dimitri is
gone and turned in, so will [I] once more, but sleep is out of the
question.
_21st February 1912._
The day have been very bad and we are obliged to remain until it clears.
We are going to move off as soon as it clears, the day have been very
cold, so we have had to remain in our bags, but things are alright and we
have got plenty to eat now. We have all retired for the night as the bliz
is still raging outside.
_22nd February 1912._
The wind went down about 9 P.M., so we began to move and were ready to
kick off at 10, and proposed to do the journey in two stages. It was
fearful heavy going for the poor dogs, we arranged so that Mr. Evans was
on Dimitri's sledge and Doctor and myself was on the other. We have done
about half the journey and are now camped for a rest for the dogs and
ourselves. We had a stiff 16 miles: the Doctor and myself, we took turns
in riding on the sledge and walking and running to keep up to the dogs.
Sometimes we sank in up to the knees, but we struggled through it. My
legs is the most powerful part of me now, but I am tired and shall be
glad when it is over. I must lie down now, as we are starting again soon
for Hut Point, but the surface is getting better as we have passed White
Island and can see so plainly the land. Castle Rock and good old Erebus
look so stately with the smoke rolling out. It is so clear and calm and
peaceful. What a change in our surroundings of a few days ago and also
our prospects. Doctor and Dimitri have done everything they could for us.
_22nd February 1912._
We started off after a rest for the dogs and reached here at Hut Point at
1 P.M. where we can rest in peace for a time. Dimitri and Crean are going
to Cape Evans: the ship is nowhere in sight. Have had to get some seal
meat and ice and prepare a meal. Mr. Evans is alright and asleep. We are
looking for a mail now. How funny we should always be looking for
something else, now we are safe.
[End of Lashly's Diary.]
* * * * *
Crean has told me the story of his walk as follows:
He started at 10 on Sunday morning and "the surface was good, very good
surface indeed," and he went about sixteen miles before he stopped. Good
clear weather. He had three biscuits and two sticks of chocolate. He
stopped about five minutes, sitting on the snow, and ate two biscuits and
the chocolate, and put one biscuit back in his pocket. He was quite warm
and not sleepy.
He carried on just the same and passed Safety Camp on his right some five
hours later, and thinks it was about twelve-thirty on Monday morning that
he reached the edge of the Barrier, tired, getting cold in the back and
the weather coming on thick. It was bright behind him but it was coming
over the Bluff, and White Island was obscured though he could still see
Cape Armitage and Castle Rock. He slipped a lot on the sea-ice, having
several falls on to his back and it was getting thicker all the time. At
the Barrier edge there was a light wind, now it was blowing a strong
wind, drifting and snowing. He made for the Gap and could not get up at
first. To avoid taking a lot out of himself he started to go round Cape
Armitage; but soon felt slush coming through his finnesko (he had no
crampons) and made back for the Gap. He climbed up to the left of the Gap
and climbed along the side of Observation Hill to avoid the slippery ice.
When he got to the top it was still clear enough to see vaguely the
outline of Hut Point, but he could see no sledges nor dogs. He sat down
under the lee of Observation Hill, and finished his biscuit with a bit of
ice: "I was very dry,"--slid down the side of Observation Hill and
thought at this time there was open water below, for he had no goggles on
the march and his eyes were strained. But on getting near the ice-foot he
found it was polished sea-ice and made his way round to the hut under the
ice-foot. When he got close he saw the dogs and sledges on the sea-ice,
and it was now blowing very hard with drift. He walked in and found the
Doctor and Dimitri inside. "He gave me a tot first, and then a feed of
porridge--but I couldn't keep it down: thats the first time in my life
that ever it happened, and it was the brandy that did it."
FOOTNOTES:
[253] See pp. 382, 383, 410, 412.
[254] My own diary, December 22, 1911.
[255] My own diary.
[256] My own diary.
[257] See p. 412.
[258] See p. 335.
CHAPTER XIII
SUSPENSE
All the past we leave behind;
We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world;
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labour and the march,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
We detachments steady throwing,
Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing, as we go, the unknown ways,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
WALT WHITMAN.
Let us come back to Cape Evans after the return of the First Supporting
Party.
Hitherto our ways had always been happy: for the most part they had been
pleasant. Scott was going to reach the Pole, probably without great
difficulty, for when we left him on the edge of the plateau he had only
to average seven miles a day to go there on full rations. We ourselves
had averaged 14.2 geographical miles a day on our way home to One Ton
Depôt, and there seemed no reason to suppose that the other two parties
would not do likewise, and the food was not only sufficient but abundant
if such marches were made. Thus we were content as we wandered over the
cape, or sat upon some rock warmed by the sun and watched the penguins
bathing in the lake which had formed in the sea-ice between us and
Inaccessible Island. All round us were the cries of the skua gulls as
they squabbled among themselves, and we heard the swish of their wings as
they swooped down upon a man who wandered too near their nests. Out upon
the sea-ice, which was soggy and dangerous, lay several seal, and the
bubblings and whistlings and gurglings which came from their throats
chimed musically in contrast to the hoarse aak, aak, of the Adélie
penguins: the tide crack was sighing and groaning all the time: it was
very restful after the Barrier silence.
Meanwhile the Terra Nova had been seen in the distance, but the state of
the sea-ice prevented her approach. It was not until February 4 that
communication was opened with her and we got our welcome mails and news
of the world during the last year. We heard that Campbell's party had
been picked up at Cape Adare and landed at Evans Coves. We started
unloading on February 9, and this work was continued until February 14:
there was about three miles of ice between the ship and the shore and we
were doing more than twenty miles a day. In the case of men who had been
sledging much, and who might be wanted to sledge again, this was a
mistake. Latterly the ice began to break up, and the ship left on the
15th, to pick up the Geological Party on the western side of McMurdo
Sound. But she met great obstacles, and her record near the coasts this
year is one of continual fights against pack-ice, while the winds
experienced as the season advanced were very strong. On January 13 the
fast ice at the mouth of McMurdo Sound extended as far as the southern
end of the Bird Peninsula: ten days later they found fast ice extending
for thirty miles from the head of Granite Harbour. Later in the season
the most determined efforts were made again and again to penetrate into
Evans Coves in order to pick up Campbell and his men, until the ice was
freezing all round them, and many times the propeller was brought up dead
against blocks of ice.[259]
The expedition was originally formed for two years from the date of
leaving England. But before the ship left after landing us at Cape Evans
in January 1911 the possibility of a third year was considered, and
certain requests for additional transport and orders for stores were sent
home. Thus it came about that the ship now landed not only new sledges
and sledging stores but also fourteen dogs from Kamchatka and seven
mules, with their food and equipment. The dogs were big and fat, but the
only ones which proved of much service for sledging were Snowy, a nice
white dog, and Bullett. It was Oates' idea that mules might prove a
better form of transport on the Barrier than ponies. Scott therefore
wrote to Sir Douglas Haig, then C.-in-C. in India, that if he failed to
reach the Pole in the summer of 1911-12, "it is my intention to make a
second attempt in the following season provided fresh transport can be
brought down: the circumstances making it necessary to plan to sacrifice
the transport animals used in any attempt.
"Before directing more ponies to be sent down I have thoroughly discussed
the situation with Captain Oates, and he has suggested that mules would
be better than ponies for our work and that trained Indian Transport
Mules would be ideal. It is evident already that our ponies have not a
uniform walking pace and that in other small ways they will be
troublesome to us although they are handy little beasts."
The Indian Government not only sent seven mules but when they arrived we
found that they had been most carefully trained and equipped. In India
they were in the charge of Lieutenant George Pulleyn, and the care and
thought which had been spent upon them could not have been exceeded: the
equipment was also extremely good and well adapted to the conditions,
while most of the improvements made by us as the result of a year's
experience were already foreseen and provided. The mules themselves, by
name Lal Khan, Gulab, Begum, Ranee, Abdullah, Pyaree and Khan Sahib, were
beautiful animals.
Atkinson would soon have to start on his travels again. Before we left
Scott at the top of the Beardmore he gave him orders to take the two
dog-teams South in the event of Meares having to return home, as seemed
likely. This was not meant in any way to be a relief journey. Scott said
that he was not relying upon the dogs; and that in view of the sledging
in the following year, the dogs were not to be risked. Although it was
settled that some members of the expedition would stay, while others
returned to New Zealand, Scott and several of his companions had left
undecided until the last moment the question of whether they would
themselves remain in the South for another year. In the event of Scott
deciding to return home the dog-teams might make the difference between
catching or missing the ship. I had discussed this question with Wilson
more than once, and he was of opinion that the business affairs of the
expedition demanded Scott's return if possible: Wilson himself inclined
to the view that he himself would stay if Scott stayed, and return if
Scott returned. I think that Oates meant to return, and am sure that
Bowers meant to stay: indeed he welcomed the idea of one more year in a
way which I do not think was equalled by any other member of the
expedition. For the most part we felt that we had joined up for two
years, but that if there was to be a third year we would rather see the
thing through than return home.
I hope I have made clear that the primary object of this journey with the
dog-teams was to hurry Scott and his companions home so that they might
be in time to catch the ship if possible, before she was compelled by the
close of the season to leave McMurdo Sound. Another thing which made
Scott anxious to communicate with the ship if possible before the season
forced her to leave the Sound was his desire to send back news. From many
remarks which he made, and also from the discussions in the hut during
the winter, it was obvious that he considered it was of the first
importance that the news of reaching the Pole, if it should be reached,
be communicated to the world without the delay of another year. Of course
he would also wish to send news of the safe return of his party to wives
and relations as soon as possible. It is necessary to emphasize the fact
that the dog-teams were intended to hasten the return of the Polar Party,
but that they were never meant to form a relief journey.
But now Atkinson was left in a rather difficult position. I note in my
diary, after we had reached the hut, that "Scott was to have sent back
instructions for the dog party with us, but these have, it would seem,
been forgotten"; but it may be that Scott considered that he had given
these instructions in a conversation he had with Atkinson at the top of
the Beardmore Glacier, when Scott said, "with the depôt [of dog-food]
which has been laid come as far as you can."
According to the plans for the Polar Journey the food necessary to bring
the three advance parties of man-haulers back from One Ton Depôt to Hut
Point was to be taken out to One Ton during the absence of these parties.
This food consisted of five weekly units of what were known as XS
rations. It was also arranged that if possible a depôt of dog-biscuit
should be taken out at the same time: this was the depôt referred to
above by Scott. In the event of the return of the dog-teams in the first
half of December, which was the original plan, the five units of food and
the dog-biscuit would have been run out by them to One Ton. If the
dog-teams did not return in time to do this a man-hauling party from Cape
Evans was to take out three of the five units of food.
It has been shown that the dog-teams were taken farther on the Polar
Journey than was originally intended,[260] indeed they were taken from
81° 15´, where they were to have turned back, as far as 83° 35´. Nor were
they able to make the return journey in the fast time which had been
expected of them, and the dog-drivers were running very short of food and
were compelled to encroach to some extent upon the supplies left to
provide for the wants of those who were following in their tracks.[261]
The dog-teams did not arrive back at Cape Evans until January 4.
Meanwhile a man-hauling party from Cape Evans, consisting of Day, Nelson,
Clissold and Hooper, had already, according to plan, taken out three of
the five XS rations for the returning parties. The weights of the
man-hauling party did not allow for the transport of the remaining two XS
rations, nor for any of the dog-food. Thus it was that when Atkinson came
to make his plans to go South with the dogs he found that there was no
dog-food south of Corner Camp, and that the rations for the return of the
Polar Party from One Ton Depôt had still to be taken out. That is to say,
the depôt of dog-food spoken of by Scott did not exist. There was,
however, enough food already at One Ton to allow the Polar Party to come
in on reduced rations. This meant that what the dog-teams could do was
limited, and was much less than it might have been had it been possible
to take out the depôt of dog-food to One Ton. Also the man-food for the
Polar Party had to be added to the weights taken by the dogs.
To estimate even approximately at what date a party will reach a given
point after a journey of this length when the weather conditions are
always uncertain and the number of travelling days unknown, was a most
difficult task. The only guide was the average marches per diem made by
our own return party, and the average of the second return party if it
should return before the dog party set out. A week one way or the other
was certainly not a large margin. A couple of blizzards might make this
much difference.
In the plan of the Southern Journey Scott, working on Shackleton's
averages, mentions March 27 as a possible date of return to Hut Point,
allowing seven days in from One Ton. Whilst on the outward journey I
heard Scott discuss the possibility of returning in April; and the Polar
Party had enough food to allow them to do this on full rations.
Atkinson and Dimitri with the two dog-teams left Cape Evans for Hut Point
on February 13 because the sea-ice, which was our only means of
communication between these places, and so to the Barrier, was beginning
to break up. Atkinson intended to leave Hut Point for the Barrier in
about a week's time. At 3.30 A.M. on February 19 Crean arrived with the
astounding news that Lieutenant Evans, still alive but at his last gasp,
was lying out near Corner Camp, and that Lashly was nursing him; that the
Last Supporting Party had consisted of three men only, a possibility
which had never been considered; and that they had left Scott,
travelling rapidly and making good averages, only 148 geographical miles
from the Pole. Scott was so well advanced that it seemed that he would be
home much earlier than had been anticipated.
A blizzard which had been threatening on the Barrier, and actually
blowing at Hut Point, during Crean's solitary journey, but which had
lulled as he arrived, now broke with full force, and nothing could be
done for Evans until it took off sufficiently for the dog-teams to
travel. But in the meantime Crean urgently wanted food and rest and
warmth. As these were supplied to him Atkinson learned bit by bit the
story of the saving of Evans' life, told so graphically in Lashly's diary
which is given in the preceding chapter, and pieced together the details
of Crean's solitary walk of thirty-five statute miles. This effort was
made, it should be remembered, at the end of a journey of three and a
half months, and over ground rendered especially perilous by crevasses,
from which a man travelling alone had no chance of rescue in case of
accident. Crean was walking for eighteen hours, and it was lucky for him,
as also for his companions, that the blizzard which broke half an hour
after his arrival did not come a little sooner, for no power on earth
could have saved him then, and the news of Evans' plight would not have
been brought.
The blizzard raged all that day, and the next night and morning, and
nothing could be done. But during the afternoon of the 20th the
conditions improved, and at 4.30 P.M. Atkinson and Dimitri started with
the two dog-teams, though it was still blowing hard and very thick. They
travelled, with one rest for the dogs, until 4.30 P.M. the next day, but
had a very hazy idea where they were most of the time, owing to the vile
weather: once at any rate they seem to have got right in under White
Island. When they camped the second time they thought they were in the
neighbourhood of Lashly's tent, and in a temporary clearance they saw the
flag which Lashly had put up on the sledge. Evans was still alive, and
Atkinson was able to give him immediately the fresh vegetables, fruit,
and seal meat which his body wanted. Atkinson has never been able to
express adequately the admiration he feels for Lashly's care and
nursing.
All that night and the next day the blizzard continued and made a start
impossible, and it was not until 3 A.M. on the morning of the 22nd that
they could start for Hut Point, Evans being carried in his sleeping-bag
on the sledge. Lashly has told how they got home.
At Cape Evans we knew nothing of these events, which had made
reorganization inevitable. It was clear that Atkinson, being the only
doctor available, would have to stay with Evans, who was very seriously
ill: indeed Atkinson told me that another day, or at the most two, would
have finished him. In fact he says that when he first saw him he thought
he must die. It was a considerable surprise then when Dimitri with Crean
and one dog-team reached Cape Evans about mid-day on February 23 with a
note from Atkinson, who said that he thought he had better stay with
Lieutenant Evans and that some one else should take out the dogs. He
suggested that Wright or myself should take them. This was our first
intimation that the dogs had not already gone South.
Wright and I started for Hut Point by 2 P.M. the same day and on our
arrival it was decided by Atkinson that I was to take out the dogs. Owing
to the early departure of our meteorologist, Simpson, Wright, who had
special qualifications for this important work, was to remain at Cape
Evans. Dimitri having rested his dog-team overnight at Cape Evans arrived
at Hut Point on the morning of the 24th.
Now the daily distance which every 4-man party had to average from Hut
Point to its turning-point and back to Hut Point, so as to be on full
rations all the way, was only 8.4 geographical miles. From Hut Point to
the latitude in which he was last seen, 87° 32´ S., Scott had averaged
more than ten geographical miles a day.
Taking into consideration the advanced latitude, 87° 32´ S., at which the
Second Return Party had left Scott, and the extremely good daily averages
these two parties had marched on the plateau up to this point, namely
12.3 geographical miles a day; seeing also that the First Return Party
had averaged 14.2 geographical miles on their return from 85° 3´ S. to
One Ton Depôt; and the Second Return Party had averaged 11.2 geographical
miles on their return from 87° 32´ S. to the same place, although one of
the three men was seriously ill; it was supposed that all the previous
estimates made for the return of the Polar Party were too late, and that
the opportunity to reach One Ton Camp before them had been lost.
Meanwhile the full rations for their return over the 140 miles (statute)
from One Ton to Hut Point were still at Hut Point.