ON THE BEARDMORE GLACIER
In thrilling region of thick ribbed ice
To be imprison'd in the viewless winds
And blown with restless violence round about.
--SHAKESPEARE.
On the death of the ponies at Camp 31 the party was reorganized,
and for some days advanced in the following order:
Sledge 1. Scott, Wilson, Oates and P.O. Evans.
Sledge 2. E. Evans, Atkinson, Wright and Lashly.
Sledge 3. Bowers, Cherry-Garrard, Crean and Keohane; with
Meares and Demetri continuing to drive the dogs.
When leaving this Camp Scott was very doubtful whether the loads
could be pulled over such an appalling surface, and that success
attended their efforts was due mainly to the ski. The start was
delayed by the readjustments that had to be made, but when they
got away at noon, and with a 'one, two, three together' Scott's
party began to pull their sledge, they were most agreeably surprised
to find it running fairly easily
[Page 355]
behind them. The first mile was gained in about half an hour, but
then they began to rise, and soon afterwards with the slope becoming
steeper and the surface getting worse they had to take off their
ski. After this the pulling was extraordinarily exhausting, for
they sank above their finnesko, and in some places nearly up to
their knees.
The runners of the sledges became coated with a thin film of ice
from which it was impossible to free them, and the sledges themselves
sank in soft spots to the cross-bars. At 5 P.M. they reached the
top of the slope, and after tea started on the down grade. On this
they had to pull almost as vigorously as on the upward slope, but
they could just manage to get along on ski.
Evans and his party, however, were unable to keep up the pace set
by the leaders, and when they camped at 9.15 Scott heard some news
that thoroughly alarmed him. 'It appears,' he wrote, 'that Atkinson
says that Wright is getting played out, and Lashly is not so fit as
he was owing to the heavy pulling since the blizzard. I have not
felt satisfied about this party. The finish of the march to-day
showed clearly that something was wrong.... True, the surface was
awful and growing worse every moment. It is a very serious business
if the men are going to crack up. As for myself, I never felt fitter
and my party can easily hold its own. P.O. Evans, of course, is
a tower of strength, but Oates and Wilson are doing splendidly
also.'
Round the spot where Camp 32 had been pitched
[Page 356]
the snow was appallingly deep and soft. 'Every step here one sinks
to the knees, and the uneven surface is obviously insufficient to
support the sledges.' A wind, however, had sprung up, and though
under ordinary circumstances it would have been far from welcome,
on this occasion it was a blessing because it hardened the snow;
and a good surface was all the more necessary because, after half
another march, Meares and Demetri were to return with the dogs, and
in consequence 200 lbs. would have to be added to each sledge-load.
Before starting from Camp 32 they built a depôt (the Lower Glacier
depôt), made it very conspicuous, and left a good deal of gear
there. Then at the very beginning of their march they got into
big pressure, and must have passed over several crevasses. After
four hours, however, they were clear of the pressure, and then
they said good-bye to Meares and Demetri, who took back a note
from Scott to say that 'Things are not so rosy as they might be,
but we keep our spirits up and say the luck must turn. This is
only to tell you that I find I can keep up with the rest as well
as of old.'
The start after lunch was anxious work, for the question whether
they could pull their loads had to be answered. Scott's party went
away first, and, to their joy, found that they could make fairly
good headway. Every now and again the sledge sank in a soft patch
which brought them up, and then they got sideways to the sledge and
hauled it out. 'We learned,' Scott wrote on December 11, at Camp 33,
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'to treat such occasions with patience.... The great thing is to
keep the sledge moving, and for an hour or more there were dozens
of critical moments when it all but stopped, and not a few when
it brought up altogether. The latter were very trying and tiring.
But suddenly the surface grew more uniform and we more accustomed
to the game, for after a long stop to let the other parties come
up, I started at 6 and ran on till 7, pulling easily without a
halt at the rate of about 2 miles an hour. I was very jubilant;
all difficulties seemed to be vanishing; but unfortunately our
history was not repeated with the other parties. Bowers came up
half an hour after us. They also had done well at the last, and
I'm pretty sure they will get on all right. Keohane is the only
weak spot, and he only, I think, because temporarily blind. But
Evans' party didn't get up till 10. They started quite well, but
got into difficulties, did just the wrong thing by straining again
and again, and so, tiring themselves, went from bad to worse. Their
ski shoes, too, are out of trim.'
During the morning of the 12th they steered for the Commonwealth
Range until they reached about the middle of the glacier and then
the course was altered for the 'Cloudmaker,' and afterwards still
further to the west. In consequence they got a much better view of
the southern side of the main glacier than Shackleton's party had
obtained, and a number of peaks not noticed previously were observed.
On the first stage of this march Scott's party was bogged time after
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time, and do what they could their sledge dragged like a huge lump of
lead. Evans' team had been sent off in advance and kept well ahead
until lunch-time. Then, when Scott admits being 'pretty well cooked,'
the secret of their trouble was disclosed in a thin film with some
hard knots of ice on the runners of the sledge; these impediments
having been removed they went ahead without a hitch, and in a mile
or two resumed their leading position. As they advanced it became
more and more evident that, with the whole of the lower valley
filled with snow from the storm, they would have been bogged had
they been without ski. 'On foot one sinks to the knees, and if
pulling on a sledge to half-way between knee and thigh.'
Scott's hope was that they would get better conditions as they rose,
but on the next march the surface became worse instead of better,
the sledges simply plunging into the soft places and stopping dead.
So slow in fact was the progress they made, that on his sledge Scott
decided at lunch to try the 10-foot runners under the cross-bars,
for the sledge was sinking so deeply that the cross-pieces were
on the surface and acting as brakes. Three hours were spent in
securing the runners, and then Scott's party started and promptly
saw what difficulties the other teams were having.
In spite of the most desperate efforts to get along, Bowers and
his men were so constantly bogged that Scott soon passed them.
But the toil was awful, because the snow with the sun shining and
a high temperature
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had become very wet and sticky, and again and again the sledge got
one runner on harder snow than the other, canted on its side, and
refused to move. At the top of the rise Evans' party was reduced
to relay work, and shortly afterwards Bowers was compelled to adopt
the same plan. 'We,' Scott says, 'got our whole load through till 7
P.M., camping time, but only with repeated halts and labour which
was altogether too strenuous. The other parties certainly cannot
get a full load along on the surface, and I much doubt if we could
continue to do so, but we must try again to-morrow. I suppose we
have advanced a bare four miles to-day and the aspect of things
is very little changed. Our height is now about 1,500 feet.'
On the following morning Evans' party got off first from Camp 35,
and after stiff hauling for an hour or so found the work much easier
than on the previous day. Bowers' contingent followed without getting
along so well, and so Scott, whose party were having no difficulty
with their load, exchanged sledges with them, and a satisfactory
morning's march was followed by still better work in the afternoon,
eleven or twelve miles being gained. 'I think the soft snow trouble
is at an end, and I could wish nothing better than a continuance of
the present surface. Towards the end of the march we were pulling
our load with the greatest ease. It is splendid to be getting along
and to find some adequate return for the work we are putting into
the business.'
At Camp 37, on Friday, December 15, they had
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reached a height of about 2,500 feet, after a march on which the
surface steadily improved and the snow covering over the blue ice
became thinner and thinner. During the afternoon they found that
at last they could start their sledges by giving one good heave,
and so, for the first time, they were at liberty to stop when they
liked without the fear of horrible jerks before they could again
set the sledge going. Patches of ice and hard névé were beginning to
show through in places, and had not the day's work been interrupted
by a snowstorm at 5 P.M. their march would have been a really good
one, but, as it was, eleven more miles had to be put to their credit.
The weather looked, however, very threatening as they turned in
for the night, and Scott expressed a fervent hope that they were
not going to be afflicted by snowstorms as they approached the
worst part of the glacier.
As was to be expected after the storm they found the surface difficult
when the march was resumed, but by sticking to their work for over
ten hours--'the limit of time to be squeezed into one day'--they
covered eleven miles, and altered greatly the aspect of the glacier.
Beginning the march as usual on ski, they had to take them off
in the afternoon because they struck such a peculiarly difficult
surface that the sledges were constantly being brought up. Then
on foot they made better progress, though no advance could be made
without the most strenuous labour. The brittle crust would hold
for a pace or two, and then let them down with a bump, while now
and again a leg went down a crack in the hard ice underneath. So
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far, since arriving among the disturbances, which increased rapidly
towards the end of the march, they had not encountered any very
alarming crevasses, though a large quantity of small ones could
be seen.
At the end of the march to Camp 39, Scott was able to write, 'For
once we can say "Sufficient for the day is the good thereof." Our
luck may be on the turn--I think we deserve it. In spite of the
hard work everyone is very fit and very cheerful, feeling well fed
and eager for more toil. Eyes are much better except poor Wilson's;
he has caught a very bad attack. Remembering his trouble on our
last Southern journey, I fear he is in for a very bad time....
I'm inclined to think that the summit trouble will be mostly due
to the chill falling on sunburned skins. Even now one feels the
cold strike directly one stops. We get fearfully thirsty and chip
up ice on the march, as well as drinking a great deal of water on
halting. Our fuel only just does it, but that is all we want, and
we have a bit in hand for the summit.... We have worn our crampons
all day (December 17) and are delighted with them. P.O. Evans, the
inventor of both crampons and ski shoes, is greatly pleased, and
certainly we owe him much.'
On the 19th, although snow fell on and off during the whole day
and crevasses were frequent, a splendid march of 14 miles was
accomplished. The sledges ran fairly well if only the haulers could
keep their feet, but on the rippled ice which they were crossing
it was impossible to get anything like a firm foothold. Still,
however, they stuck most splendidly to their
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task, and on the following day even a better march was made to Camp
41.
Starting on a good surface they soon came to a number of criss-cross
cracks, into two of which Scott fell and badly bruised his knee
and thigh. Then they reached an admirably smooth ice surface over
which they traveled at an excellent pace. A long hour was spent over
the halt for lunch, during which angles, photographs and sketches
were taken, and continuing to make progress in the second part of
the day's march they finished up with a gain of 17 miles. 'It has
not been a strain except perhaps for me with my wounds received
early in the day. The wind has kept us cool on the march, which
has in consequence been very much pleasanter.... Days like this
put heart in one.'
On Wednesday, December 20, however, the good marches of the previous
two days were put entirely into the shade by one of nearly 23 miles,
during which they rose 800 feet. Pulling the sledges in crampons was
not at all difficult on the hard snow and on hard ice with patches
of snow. At night they camped in Lat. 84° 59' 6", and then Scott had
to perform a task that he most cordially disliked. 'I have just
told off the people to return to-morrow night: Atkinson, Wright,
Cherry-Garrard and Keohane. All are disappointed--poor Wright rather
bitterly, I fear. I dreaded this necessity of choosing--nothing
could be more heartrending. I calculated our program to start from
85° 10' with twelve units of food[1] and
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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.'
[Footnote 1: A unit of food means a week's supplies for four men.]
The next stage of the journey, though accomplished without accident,
was too exciting to be altogether pleasant, for crevasses were
frequent and falls not at all uncommon. And at mid-day, while they
were in the worst of places, a fog rolled up and kept them in their
tents for nearly three hours.
During this enforced delay, Scott wrote a letter which was taken
back by the returning party.
'December 21, 1911, Lat. 85° S. We are struggling on, considering
all things, against odds. The weather is a constant anxiety, otherwise
arrangements are working exactly as planned.
'For your ear also I am exceedingly fit and can go with the best
of them.
'It is a pity the luck doesn't come our way, because every detail
of equipment is right... but all will be well if we can get through
to the Pole.
'I write this sitting in our tent waiting for the fog to clear,
an exasperating position as we are in the worst crevassed region.
Teddy Evans and Atkinson were down to the length of their harness
this morning, and we have all been half-way down. As first man I
get first chance, and it's decidedly exciting not knowing which
step will give way. Still all this is interesting enough if one
could only go on.
'Since writing the above I made a dash for it; got out of the valley
out of the fog and away from
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crevasses. So here we are practically on the summit and up to date
in the provision line. We ought to get through.'
After the fog had cleared off they soon got out of the worst crevasses,
and on to a snow slope that led past Mount Darwin. The pull up
the slope was long and stiff, but by holding on until 7.30 P.M.
they got off a good march and found a satisfactory place for their
depôt. Fortunately the weather was both calm and bright, and all
the various sorting arrangements that had to be made before the
returning party left them were carried out under most favorable
conditions. 'For me,' Scott says, 'it is an immense relief to have
the indefatigable little Bowers to see to all detail arrangements of
this sort,' and on the following day he added, 'we said an affecting
farewell to the returning party, who have taken things very well,
dear good fellows as they are.'
Then the reorganized parties (Scott, Wilson, Oates and P.O. Evans;
Bowers, E. R. Evans, Crean and Lashly) started off with their heavy
loads, and any fears they had about their ability to pull them
were soon removed.
'It was a sad job saying good-bye,' Cherry-Garrard wrote in his
diary, 'and I know some eyes were a bit dim. It was thick and snowing
when we started 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.'
[Page 365]
Then the returning party set off on their homeward march, and arrived
at Cape Evans on January 28, 1912, after being away for three months.
Repairs to the sledgemeter delayed the advancing party for some
time during their first march under the new conditions, but they
managed to cover twelve miles, and, with the loads becoming lighter
every day, Scott hoped to march longer hours and to make the requisite
progress. Steering, however, south-west on the next morning they
soon found themselves among such bad crevasses and pressure, that
they were compelled to haul out to the north, and then to the west.
One comfort was that all the time they were rising. 'It is rather
trying having to march so far to the west, but if we keep rising
we must come to the end of the disturbance some time.' During the
second part of this march great changes of fortune awaited them. At
first they started west up a slope, and on the top another pressure
appeared on the left, but less lofty and more snow-covered than
that which had troubled them in the morning. There was temptation
to try this, but Scott resisted it and turned west up yet another
slope, on the top of which they reached a most extraordinary surface.
Narrow crevasses, that were quite invisible, ran in all directions.
All of these crevasses were covered with a thin crust of hardened
névé which had not a sign of a crack in it. One after another,
and sometimes two at a time, they all fell in; and though they
were getting fairly accustomed to unexpected falls through being
unable to mark the run of
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the surface appearances of cracks, or where such cracks were covered
with soft snow, they had never expected to find a hardened crust
formed over a crack, and such a surface was as puzzling as it was
dangerous and troublesome.
For about ten minutes or so, while they were near these narrow
crevasses, they came on to snow which had a hard crust and loose
crystals below it, and each step was like breaking through a
glass-house. And then, quite suddenly, the hard surface gave place
to regular sastrugi, and their horizon leveled in every direction.
At 6 P.M., when they reached Camp 45 (height about 7,750 feet), 17
miles stood to their credit and Scott was feeling 'very cheerful
about everything.' 'My determination,' he said, 'to keep mounting
irrespective of course is fully justified, and I shall be indeed
surprised if we have any further difficulties with crevasses or
steep slopes. To me for the first time our goal seems really in
sight.'
On the following day (Christmas Eve) they did not find a single
crevasse, but high pressure ridges were still to be seen, and Scott
confessed that he should be glad to lose sight of such disturbances.
Christmas Day, however, brought more trouble from crevasses--'very
hard, smooth névé between high ridges at the edge of crevasses, and
therefore very difficult to get foothold to pull the sledges.' To
remedy matters they got out their ski sticks, but this did not prevent
several of them from going half-down; while Lashly, disappearing
completely, had to be pulled out by
[Page 367]
means of the Alpine rope. 'Lashly says the crevasse was 50 feet deep
and 8 feet across, in form U, showing that the word "unfathomable"
can rarely be applied. Lashly is 44 to-day and as hard as nails.
His fall has not even disturbed his equanimity.'
When, however, they had reached the top of the crevasse ridge a
better surface was found, and their Christmas lunch--at which they
had such luxuries as chocolate and raisins--was all the more enjoyable
because 8 miles or so had already been gained.
In the middle of the afternoon they got a fine view of the land,
but more trouble was caused by crevasses, until towards the end
of their march they got free of them and on to a slight decline
down which they progressed at a swinging pace. Then they camped
and prepared for their great Christmas meal. 'I must,' Scott says,
'write a word of our supper last night. We had four courses. The
first, pemmican, full whack, with slices of horse meat flavored
with onion and curry powder, and thickened with biscuit; then an
arrowroot, cocoa and biscuit hoosh sweetened; then a plum-pudding;
then cocoa with raisins, and finally a dessert of caramels and ginger.
After the feast it was difficult to move. Wilson and I couldn't
finish our share of plum-pudding. We have all slept splendidly and
feel thoroughly warm--such is the effect of full feeding.'
The advance, possibly owing to the 'tightener' on Christmas night,
was a little slow on the following morning, but nevertheless 15
miles were covered
[Page 368]
in the day and the 86th parallel was reached. Crevasses still appeared,
and though they avoided them on this march, they were not so lucky
during the next stage to Camp 49.
In fact Wednesday, December 27, was unfortunate owing to several
reasons. To begin with, Bowers broke the only hypsometer thermometer,
and so they were left with nothing to check their two aneroids.
Then during the first part of the march they got among sastrugi
which jerked the sledges about, and so tired out the second team
that they had great difficulty in keeping up. And, finally, they
found more crevasses and disturbances during the afternoon. For an
hour the work was as painful as it could be, because they tumbled
into the crevasses and got the most painful jerks. 'Steering the
party,' Scott wrote at Camp 49, 'is no light task. One cannot allow
one's thoughts to wander as others do, and when, as this afternoon,
one gets amongst disturbances, I find it very worrying and tiring.
I do trust we shall have no more of them. We have not lost sight of
the sun since we came on the summit; we should get an extraordinary
record of sunshine. It is monotonous work this; the sledgemeter
and theodolite govern the situation.'
During the next morning the second sledge made such 'heavy weather'
that Scott changed places with E. R. Evans. That, however, did not
improve matters much, for Scott soon found that the second team had
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not the same swing as his own team, so he changed Lashly for P.O.
Evans, and then they seemed to get on better. At lunch-time they
discussed the difficulties that the second party was having, and
several reasons for them were put forward. One was that the team
was stale, another that all the trouble was due to bad stepping
and want of swing, and yet another was that the first's party's
sledge pulled much more easily than the second party's.
On the chance that this last suggestion was correct, Scott and
his original team took the second party's sledge in the afternoon,
and soon found that it was a terrible drag to get it along in soft
snow, whereas the second party found no difficulty in pulling the
sledge that had been given to them. 'So the sledge is the cause of
the trouble, and taking it out, I found that all is due to want
of care. The runners ran excellently, but the structure has been
distorted by bad strapping, bad loading, &c. The party are not
done, and I have told them plainly that they must wrestle with the
trouble and get it right for themselves.'
Friday evening found them at Camp 51, and at a height of about
9,000 feet, But they had encountered a very bad surface, on which
the strain of pulling was terrific. The hardest work occurred on
two rises, because the loose snow had been blown over the rises
and had rested on the north-facing slopes, and these heaps were
responsible for the worst of their troubles. However, there was
one satisfactory result of the
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march, for now that the second party had seen to the loading of
their sledge they had ceased to lag.
But the next stage was so exhausting that Scott's fears for the
conditions of the second party again arose. Writing from Camp 52,
on December 30, he says: 'To-morrow I'm going to march half a day,
make a depôt and build the 10-foot sledges. The second party is
certainly tiring; it remains to be seen how they will manage with
the smaller sledge and lighter load. The surface is certainly much
worse than it was 50 miles back. (T. -10°.) We have caught up
Shackleton's dates. Everything would be cheerful if I could persuade
myself that the second party were quite fit to go forward.'
Camp was pitched after the morning's march on December 31, and
the process of building up the 10-foot sledges was at once begun
by P.O. Evans and Crean. 'It is a very remarkable piece of work.
Certainly P.O. Evans is the most invaluable asset to our party.
To build a sledge under these conditions is a fact for special
record.'
[Illustration: MAN HAULING CAMP, 87TH PARALLEL. _Photo by Lieut.
H. R. Bowers._]
Half a day was lost while the sledges were made, but this they
hoped to make up for by advancing at much greater speed. A depôt,
called 'Three Degree Depôt,' consisting of a week's provision for
both units, was made at this camp, and on New Year's morning, with
lighter loads, Evans' party led the advance on foot, while Scott's
team followed on ski. With a stick of chocolate to celebrate the New
Year, and with only 170 miles between them and the Pole, prospects
[Page 371]
seemed to be getting brighter on New Year's night, and on the next
evening at Camp 55 Scott decided that E. R. Evans, Lashly and Crean
should go back after one more march.
Writing from Camp 56 he says, 'They are disappointed, but take
it well. Bowers is to come into our tent, and we proceed as a
five-man unit to-morrow. We have 5-1/2 units of food--practically
over a month's allowance for five people--it ought to see us
through.... Very anxious to see how we shall manage tomorrow;
if we can march well with the full load we shall be practically
safe, I take it.'
By the returning party Scott sent back a letter, dated January
3, in which he wrote, 'Lat. 87° 32".' 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.'
On the next morning the returning men followed a little way until
Scott was certain that his team could get along, and then farewells
were said. In referring to this parting with E. Evans, Crean and
Lashly, Scott wrote, 'I was glad to find their sledge is a mere
nothing to them, and thus, no doubt, they will make a quick journey
back,' and under average conditions they should easily have fulfilled
anticipations. But a blizzard held them up for three days before
they reached the head of the glacier, and by the time they reached
the foot of it E. Evans had developed symptoms of scurvy. At One
Ton Camp he was unable to stand without the support of his ski sticks,
[Page 372]
and although, with the help of his companions, he struggled on for
53 more miles in four days, he could go no farther. Rejecting his
suggestion that he should be left alone while they pressed on for
help, Crean and Lashly pulled him on the sledge with a devotion
matching that of their captain years before, when he and Wilson had
brought Shackleton, ill and helpless, safely to the _Discovery_.
After four days of this pulling they reached Corner Camp, and then
there was such a heavy snowfall that the sledge could not travel.
In this crisis Crean set out to tramp alone to Hut Point, 34 miles
away, while Lashly stayed to nurse E. Evans, and most certainly was
the means of keeping him alive until help came. After a remarkable
march of 18 hours Crean reached Hut Point, and as soon as possible
Atkinson and Demetri started off with both dog teams to relieve
Evans and Lashly. Some delay was caused by persistent bad weather,
but on February 22 Evans was got back to the _Discovery_ hut, where
he was unremittingly tended by Atkinson; and subsequently he was
sent by sledge to the _Terra Nova_. So ended the tale of the last
supporting party, though, as a sequel, it is good to record that
in reward for their gallant conduct both Lashly and Crean received
the Albert Medal.
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