Strips of calico and webbing were sewn over the insides of the light

tents to strengthen them for sledging in the summer. For heavy weather

we also had japara sail-cloth tents with Willesden canvas flounces.

These gave one a feeling of greater security and were much more

wind-proof, but unfortunately twice as heavy as the first-mentioned.

A floor-cloth of light Willesden canvas covered the surface of snow

or ice in the interior of the tent; performing when sledging the

alternative office of a sail.

In order to cut snow, neve or ice to pile on the flounce, a pick and

spade had to be included in the sledging equip meet. As a rule, a

strong, pointed shovel weighing about six pounds answers very well;

but in Adelie Land, the surface was so often wind-swept ice, polished

porcelain-snow, or hard neve that a pick was necessary to make any

impression upon it. It was found that a four-pound spade, carefully

handled, and a four-pound miner's pick provided against all emergencies.

Our sledges were similar to those of other British Antarctic

expeditions; of eleven- and twelve-foot lengths. The best were

Norwegian, made of ash and hickory. Others built in Sydney, of

Australian woods, were admirably suited for special work. Those made of

mountain-ash had the advantage of being extremely light, but the runners

wore out quickly on ice and hard neve. Sledges of powellized spotted gum

were very strong and stood plenty of rough usage, but were heavier

than those procured in Norway. A decking of bamboo slats secured by

copper-wire to the crossbars was usually employed.

A light bamboo mast and spar were fitted to each sledge. Immediately

in front of the mast came the "cooker-box," containing in respective

compartments the primus and a bottle of spirit for lighting it, as well

as spare prickers, openers and fillers for the kerosene tins, repair

outfits and other odd articles. The cooker-boxes were of Venesta board,

with hinged lids secured by chocks and overlapped by japara cloth to

exclude as much drift-snow as possible. An instrument-box was secured to

the sledge near the rear and just forward of a Venesta or aluminium

tray on which the kerosene contained in one-gallon tins was carried. In

several cases the tray was widened to receive as well a case containing

a dip-circle. Rearmost of all was a wooden crosspiece to which the

shaft of the sledge-meter was attached through a universal joint. On the

middle section of the sledge between the cooker-box and instrument-box,

sleeping-bags, food-bags, clothes-bags, tent, alpine rope, theodolite

legs, and other articles, were arranged, packed and immovably stiffened

by buckled straps passing from side to side.

Sledging harness for both men and dogs was constructed of canvas. In the

former case, a wide belt of triple thickness encircled the body at the

hips, sewn to braces of narrower strips passing over the shoulders,

while hauling-rope was attached to the belt behind. The strength of the

whole depended on the care bestowed in sewing the parts together, and,

since his life might depend upon it, no one made anything else but a

thorough job of his harness.

Ninnis and Mertz ran a tailoring business for the dogs, who were brought

one by one into the outer Hut to be measured for harness. After many

lengths had been cut with scissors the canvas bands were put through and

sewn together on the large sewing-machine and then each dog was fitted

and the final alterations were made. The huskies looked quite smart in

their "suits".

Upon the primus heater, alone, did we rely for cooking the meals on

sledging journeys. First used for purposes of sledging by Dr. Nansen in

his journey across Greenland, the primus is only economically managed

after some practice. To light a primus in a draughty tent at a low

temperature calls for some forbearance before one is a thorough master

of the art. A sledging cook will often make a disagreeable faux pas

by extinguishing the primus in the preparation of hoosh. This is most

readily done by lowering too quickly the outside cover over the rest

of the cooker. Fumes of vaporizing kerosene soon fill the tent and when

matches are found, the cooker pulled to pieces, the primus relighted and

the choking vapours have cleared, one is apt to think that all is well.

The hoosh is quite as successful as usual, but the cocoa, made from

water in the annulus, has a tincture of kerosene which cannot be

concealed.

In the "Nansen Cooker," which we used, a maximum result is secured

from the heat of the primus. The hot gases from the combustion of the

kerosene, before they escape into the outside air, have to circulate

along a tortuous path, passing from the hot interior to the colder

exterior compartments, losing heat all the time. Thus a hot hoosh is

preparing in the central vessel side by side with the melting of snow

for cocoa or tea in the annulus. By the combination of "Nansen Cooker"

and primus stove one gallon of kerosene oil properly husbanded is made

to last for twelve days in the preparation of the ordinary ration for

three men.

[TEXT ILLUSTRATION]

Section through a Nansen Sledging Cooker mounted on the primus

The subject of food is one which requires peculiar consideration

and study. It is assumed that a polar expedition must carry all its

food-stuffs in that variety and quantity which may approximately satisfy

normal demands. Fortunately, the advance of science has been such that

necessaries like vegetables, fruit, meats and milk are now preserved so

that the chances of bacterial contamination are reduced to a minimum. A

cold climate is an additional security towards the same end.

Speaking generally, while living for months in an Antarctic hut, it is a

splendid thing to have more than the mere necessaries of life. Since

one is cut off from the ordinary amenities of social existence, it is

particularly necessary that equipment and food should be of the very

best; in some measure to replace a lack which sooner or later makes

itself keenly felt. Explorers, after all, are only mortal.

Luxuries, then, are good in moderation, and mainly for their

psychological effect. After a spell of routine, a celebration is the

natural sequel, and if there are delicacies which in civilization are

more palatable than usual, why not take them to where they will receive

a still fuller and heartier appreciation? There is a corresponding rise

in the "tide of life" and the ennui of the same task, in the same

place, in the same wind, is not so noticeable. So we did not forget our

asparagus and jugged hare.

In the matter of sledging foods, one comes down to a solid basis of

dietetics. But even dietetics as a science has to stand aside when

actual experience speaks. Dietetics deals with proteins, carbohydrates,

fats, and calories: all terms which need definition and comprehension

before the value of a sledging ration can be fundamentally understood.

When the subject was first introduced into table conversation at the

Hut, it was regarded somewhat suspiciously as "shop." But it gradually

won interest simply because it was of such vital concern.

In sledging there is undoubtedly a critical allowance which will yield

the best results. Circumstances alter cases, and the correct ration

under one set of conditions cannot be expected to coincide with that in

another situation. Thus, the journey may be conducted under conditions

of great cold or of comparative warmth, by man-hauling or auxiliary

power, at sea-level or on an altitude, through regions where there is

a reasonable hope of securing additions of meat by the way, or across

barren tracts devoid of game. In each instance particular demands must

be supplied.

In selecting the articles of diet, idiosyncrasies of individuals should

be consulted in reason, and under no consideration should anything be

taken which bears the slightest stigma of contamination. It remains,

then, to discriminate those foods which contribute the greatest amount

of nutriment for a given weight, and which, inter se, preserve a proper

dietetic balance. Variety is very desirable, provided that there is no

important sacrifice in nutrient value. The proof of a wisely selected

ration is to find at the end of a long sledge journey that the sole

craving is for an increase in the ration. Of course, such would be the

ideal result of a perfect ration, which does not exist.

Considering that an ordinary individual in civilization may only satisfy

the choice demands of his appetite by selecting from the multifarious

bill of fare of a modern restaurant, it will be evident that the same

person, though already on the restricted diet of an explorer, cannot

be suddenly subjected to a sledging ration for any considerable period

without a certain exercise of discipline.

For example, the Eastern Coastal Party, sledging at fairly high

temperatures over the sea-ice, noted that the full ration of hoosh

produced at times a mild indigestion, they drank much liquid to satisfy

an intense thirst and on returning to the Hut found their appetites

inclined to tinned fruit and penguins' eggs. Bickerton's and Bage's

parties, though working at a much higher altitude, had a similar

experience. The former, for instance, could not at first drink the whole

allowance of thick, rich cocoa without a slight nausea. The latter saved

rations during the first two weeks of their journey, and only when they

rose to greater heights and were in fine condition did they appreciate

the ration to the full. Again, even when one becomes used to the ration,

the sensation of full satisfaction does not last for more than an hour.

The imagination reaches forward to the next meal, perhaps partly on

account of the fact that marching is often monotonous and the scenery

uninspiring. Still, even after a good evening hoosh, the subconscious

self may assert itself in food-dreams. The reaction from even a short

sledging trip, where food has been plentiful, is to eat a good deal,

astonishing in amount to those who for the time being have lived at the

Hut.

It may appear that a serious case is being made against the polar

sledging ration. On the whole, it was found to be excellent and the best

that experience had been able to devise. Entering the polar zones, one

must not be over-fastidious, but take it as a matter of course that

there will be self-denial and deprivation of small luxuries.

The energy exerted by man, and the requirements of tissue-building

are derived from the organic compounds known as proteins,** fats and

carbohydrates, though in a slight degree from other substances, most

important of which are minute quantities of mineral matter.

A calorie as used in dietetics is the amount of heat required to raise

the temperature of one kilogramme of water at 0 degrees C. to 1 degree

C. The heat-value of food-stuffs, stated in calories, can be quickly

reckoned when chemical analyses stating their protein, fat and

carbohydrate contents are available. It has been ascertained that one

gramme of protein or carbohydrate yields 4.1 calories, whilst the same

amount of fat produces 9.3 calories. Thus the value of fat-containing

foods in a sledging ration is at once apparent.

** The proteins are complex nitrogenous compounds which are preeminent

in fulfilling the two functions of a food: to form tissue and to produce

work and heat. As examples may be quoted, myosin the chief protein of

ordinary meat or muscle, ovalbumin one of the proteins of egg-white,

casein belonging to milk and cheese, and gluten a protein-mixture in

flour.

Fats are organic non-nitrogenous substances obtained from both animal

and vegetable sources, e.g. butter and olive oil.

The carbohydrates are compounds of carbon with hydrogen and oxygen in a

certain proportion, e.g. cane-sugar and starch.

Mineral matters are inorganic, being chlorides, carbonates or phosphates

of calcium, sodium and potassium.

Theoretically, any of the three classes of foods mentioned might be

thought to supply adequate energy, if taken in sufficient amount.

Practically, however, protein and carbohydrate are essential, and it is

better to have a mixture of all three. So, in concentrating foods for

sledging, the largest possible proportion of fat, compatible with other

considerations, is included.

Ordinarily, a normal man consumes some four or five pounds weight of

solid food per diem, of which 50 per cent., it is rather surprising to

learn, is water. When sledging, one has the satisfaction of knowing that

all but the smallest quantity of the food dragged is solid nutriment.

The water is added when the meals are cooked. It is just in this

artificial addition that the sledging ration is not perfect, though as a

synthesis it satisfies the demands of dietetics. Food containing water,

as cooked meat oozing with its own gravy is a more palatable thing than

dried meat-powder to which boiling water has been added. In the same

way, a dry, hard biscuit plus liquid is a different thing from a spongy

loaf of yeast bread with its high percentage of water. One must reckon

with the psychic factor in eating. When sledging, one does not look for

food well served as long as the food is hot, nourishing and filling. So

the usage of weeks and a wolfish appetite make hoosh a most delicious

preparation; but when the days of an enforced ration are over, the

desire for appetizing well-served food reasserts itself. The body

refuses to be treated merely as an engine.

The daily polar sledging ration for one man has been concentrated to

a figure just above two pounds in weight, For instance, in recent

Antarctic expeditions, Scott, in 1903, used 34.7 ozs., Shackleton in

1908 used 34.82 ozs. and our own amounted to 34.25 ozs. Exclusive of

tea, pepper and salt, Shackleton's ration and that adopted by Wild at

the Western Base and ourselves in Adelie Land were identical--34 ozs.

Reverting to earlier explorers, for the sake of comparisons, McClintock

in 1850 brought his minimum down to 42 ozs., Nares in 1875 to 40 ozs.,

Greely in 1882 to 41.75 ozs., and Abruzzi in 1900 to 43.5 ozs.

Our allowance was made up as follows, the relative amounts in the daily

sledging ration for one man being stated: plasmon biscuit, 12 ozs.;

pemmican, 8 ozs.; butter, 2 ozs.; plasmon chocolate, 2 ozs.; glaxo

(dried milk), 5 ozs.; sugar, 4 ozs.; cocoa, 1 oz.; tea,.25 oz. It will

be instructive to make a short note on each item.

Plasmon biscuit was made of the best flour mixed with 30 per cent. of

plasmon powder. Each biscuit weighed 2.25 ozs., and was made specially

thick and hard to resist shaking and bumping in transit as well as the

rough usage of a sledging journey. The effect of the high percentage

of plasmon, apart from its nutritive value, was to impart additional

toughness to the biscuit, which tested our teeth so severely that we

should have preferred something less like a geological specimen and more

like ordinary "hard tack," The favourite method of dealing with these

biscuits was to smash them with an ice-axe or nibble them into small

pieces and treat the fragments for a while to the solvent action of

hot cocoa. Two important proteins were present in this food: plasmon, a

trade-name for casein, the chief protein of milk, and gluten, a mixture

of proteins in flour.

The pemmican we used consisted of powdered dried beef (containing the

important protein, myosin) and 50 per cent. of pure fat in the form of

lard. The large content of fat contributes to its high caloric value,

so that it is regularly included in sledging diets. Hoosh is a stodgy,

porridge-like mixture of pemmican, dried biscuit and water, brought to

the boil and served hot. Some men prefer it cooler and more dilute, and

to this end dig up snow from the floor of the tent with their spoons,

and mix it in until the hoosh is "to taste," Eating hoosh is a

heightened form of bliss which no sledger can ever forget.

Glaxo is a proprietary food preparation of dried milk, manufactured in

New Zealand. It is without doubt an ideal food for any climate where

concentration is desirable and asepsis cannot be neglected. The value of

milk as an all-round food is well known. It contains protein as casein,

fat as cream and in fine globules, carbohydrate as lactose (milk sugar)

and mineral substances whose importance is becoming more recognized.

At the Western Base, Wild's party invented glaxo biscuits; an unbaked

mixture of flour and dried milk, which were in themselves a big

inducement to go sledging. At the Hut, making milk from the dried powder

required some little experience. Cold water was added to the dried

powder, a paste was made and warm or hot water poured in until the milk

was at the required strength. One of the professional "touches" was to

aerate the milk, after mixing, by pouring it from jug to jug.

Butter, although it contains nearly 20 per cent. of water is a food of

high heat-value and is certainly more easily digested than fat, such as

dripping, with a higher melting-point. Ours was fresh Victorian butter,

packed in the ordinary export boxes, and carried to the Antarctic on the

open bridge of the Aurora. With a sheath-knife, the sledging cook cut

off three small chunks of two ounces each from the frozen butter every

day at lunch. To show how the appetite is affected by extreme cold,

one feels that butter is a wholesome thing just in itself, being more

inclined to eat a pound than two ounces.

Sugar--the carbohydrate, sucrose--has special qualities as a food since

it is quickly assimilated, imparting within a few minutes fresh energy

for muscular exertion. Athletes will support this; in fact, a strong

solution of sugar in water is used as a stimulant in long-distance

running and other feats of endurance. Wild, for instance, found as

a matter of experience that chocolate was preferable to cheese as a

sledging food, even though similar weights had approximately the same

food-value.

Cocoa and tea were the two sledging beverages. The cocoa was used for

two meals, the first and the last in the day, and the tea for lunch.

Both contain stimulating alkaloids, theobromine and caffeine, and fat is

a notable constituent of cocoa. Of course, their chief nourishing value,

as far as we were concerned, lay in the glaxo and sugar added.

Lastly, plasmon chocolate is a preparation of pure chocolate (a mixture

of ground cocoa, white sugar and starch) with the addition of 10 per

cent. of plasmon.

As food for the dogs, there was nothing better than dried seal-steaks

with the addition of a little blubber. Ordinary pemmican is readily

eaten, but not appreciated by the dogs in the same way as seal meat.

To save weight, the meat was dried over the stove without heating it

sufficiently to cook it. By this measure, almost 50 per cent. in weight

was saved.

The Hut was all agog with movement and bustle on the days when rations

were being made up and packed. Starting from the earliest stage in

the process, there would be two men in the outer Hut grinding plasmon

biscuit into powder. One would turn away for dear life and the other

smash the biscuit with a hammer on a metal slab and feed continuously

into the grinder. The atmosphere would be full of the nauseous vapours

of blubber arising from dishes on the stove where seal meat was drying

for the dogs. Ninnis and Mertz superintended in this department, in

careless moments allowing the blubber to frizzle and diffuse its aroma

through the Hut.

Inside, spread along the eighteen-foot table would be the weighers, the

bag-makers or machinists, and the packers. The first made up a compound

of cocoa, glaxo and sugar--cocoa compound; mixed glaxo and sugar and

stirred together, pemmican and biscuit--pemmican compound. These were

weighed and run into calico bags, rapidly supplied by several machinists

farther along the table. In spare moments the weighers stowed chocolate,

whole biscuits, butter and tea into 190 sacks of various sizes. Lastly,

the packers had strong canvas tanks, as they were called, designed

to hold food for a week and a fortnight respectively. Into these the

rations were carefully distributed, butter in the centre, whole biscuits

near the top. Then the tanks were tightly closed, and one man operated

with palm and sail-needle, sewing them up with twine. At the same time,

a side-line was run in pemmican which was removed semi-frozen from the

air-tight tins, and shaved into small pieces with a strong sheath-knife.

Butter, too, arrived from the refrigerator-store and was subdivided into

two-ounce or pound lumps.

Meanwhile, other occupations were in full swing. An amateur cobbler,

his crampon on a last, studded its spiked surface with clouts, hammering

away in complete disregard of the night-watchman's uneasy slumbers. The

big sewing-machine raced at top-speed round the flounce of a tent, and

in odd corners among the bunks were groups mending mitts, strengthening

sleeping-bags and patching burberrys. The cartographer at his table

beneath a shaded acetylene light drew maps and sketched, the magnetician

was busy on calculations close by. The cook and messman often made their

presence felt and heard. In the outer Hut, the lathe spun round, its

whirr and click drowned in the noisy rasp of the grinder and the blast

of the big blow-lamp. The last-named, Bickerton, "bus-driver" and

air-tractor expert, had converted, with the aid of a few pieces of

covering tin, into a forge. A piece of red-hot metal was lifted out and

thrust into the vice; Hannam was striker and Bickerton holder. General

conversation was conducted in shouts, Hannam's being easily predominant.

The sum total of sounds was sufficient for a while to make every one

oblivious to the clamour of the restless wind.

CHAPTER XI SPRING EXPLOITS

If the "winter calms" were a delusion, there were at least several

beautifully clear, moderately calm days in June. The expectation of

colder weather had been realized, and by the end of the month it was a

perceptible fact that the sun had definitely turned, describing a

longer arc when skimming the distant fleets of bergs along the northern

horizon. Thus on June 28 the refracted image of the sun rose into

visibility about eleven o'clock, heralded by a vivid green sky and

damask cloud and by one o'clock had disappeared.

On the same day every one was abroad, advancing the wireless masts

another stage and digging ice-shafts. Stillwell commenced a contoured

plane-table survey of the neighbourhood of Winter Quarters. He continued

this with many breaks during the next few months and eventually

completed an accurate and valuable map, undeterred by the usual series

of frost-bites.

There was much anticipated of July, but the wind soughed on and the

temperature decreased. Just to demonstrate its resource, the wind

maintained ninety-seven miles per hour for six hours on July 19, while

the puff-anemometer indicated several "breaks" of one hundred and fifty

miles per hour.

July 21 was cold, calm and clear. For the first time after many weeks

the sun was mildly warm, and all felt with a spring of optimism that

a new era had begun. The sea which had been kept open by the wind was

immediately overspread with thin, dark ice, which in a few hours was

dotted with many ice-flowers aggregates of fern-like, sprouting fronds

similar to small bouquets or rosettes. Soon the surface had whitened and

thickened and by next morning was firm enough to hold a man out beyond

the nearest island. The wind did not allow this state of affairs to last

for long, for by lunch-time it had hurried away the wide floes and raged

across a foaming sea.

We still considered the question of sledging, and I decided that if

there were the slightest prospect of accomplishing anything, several

of us would start before the end of July on a short journey. The month,

however, closed with nothing to commend it. The night-watchman for July

29 says:

"The moon was wonderfully bright to-night, encircled by a complete halo.

It appeared to hang suspended like a silver globe in the dark blue sky.

The stars flash and sparkle and seem much nearer here than in Australia.

At midnight the wind blew at ninety miles per hour, so that it was no

easy job getting to the screen in slippery finnesko. Away in the north

there was a dense cloud of spray and sea-smoke, and the wind screamed

past the Hut. The 'St. Elmoscope' was buzzing merrily in the roof all

the time."

Ninnis and Mertz with a team of dogs managed, on the morning of the

29th, to get several loads of forty pounds over the first steep rise

of the glacier to Webb's magnetic ice-cave against a "blow" of seventy

miles per hour.

August 1 was marked by a hurricane, and the celebration in the evening

of Swiss Confederation Day. Mertz was the hero of the occasion as well

as cook and master of ceremonies. From a mysterious box he produced all

kinds of quaint conserves, and the menu soared to unknown delicacies

like "Potage a la Suisse, Choucroute garnie aux saucission de Berne,

Puree de foie gras trufee, and Leckerley de Bale." Hanging above the

buoyant assembly were the Cross of Helvetia and the Jack of Britannia.

It was not till August 8 that there was any indication of improvement.

The sun was bright, the barometer was steady, the wind fell to forty

miles an hour and a fine radiant of cirrus cloud spread out fan-like

from the north; the first from that direction for months.

On the afternoon of August 9, Ninnis, Madigan and I set off with a team

of dogs against a forty-mile wind in an attempt to push to the south.

Darkness was coming on when we sighted a bamboo pole, three and a

quarter miles south of the Hut, and camped. The dogs pulled well up the

steep slopes, but the feet of several were cut by the sharp edges of the

wind-worn ice.

Very heavy gusts swept by in the early morning hours of the 10th. and

when the time came to get out of our sleeping-bags it fell calm for a

short space. We had taken down the tent and had started to move away,

when back rushed the wind, strong and steady. Still we pushed on with

our willing team and by a piece of good fortune reached the sledge which

had been abandoned in the autumn, five and a half miles from the Hut,

and of whose fate in the winter's hurricanes we had made all kind of

conjectures.

On its leeward side there was a ramp of very hard snow slanting down

from the top of the sledge. To windward the low pedestal of ice on

which the runners stood was hollowed out, and the wood of the rails and

cross-bars, the leather straps, tent, floor-cloth and canvas food-tanks

were all bleached and worn. The aluminium cooker, strapped on its box,

was brightly polished on the weather side by the dry, drifting snow

impelled by the furious winds. A thermograph, left behind in the autumn,

was found to be intact and indicated a temperature of -35 degrees

F.--the lowest for the eight days during which it had run. The remains

of Madigan's plum-pudding of the autumn were unearthed and found in

splendid condition. That evening it was thawed out over the primus and

we demolished it, after a pause of over five months since having the

first cut.

At this spot the steepest grades of the ascent to the plateau were left

behind, and it appeared to be a strategic point from which to extend our

sledging efforts. The main difficulty was that of pitching camp in

the prevailing winds on a surface of ice. To obviate this, the only

expedient was to excavate a shelter beneath the ice itself; and there

was the further consideration that all sledging parties would be able to

make use of such a haven and save extra wear on their tents.

On the morning of August 11 Madigan and Ninnis commenced to sink a deep

vertical trench, at one end of which a room was hewn out large enough to

accommodate three men. The job was finished on the following day, and we

struck the tent and moved to our new abode. The tent was spread over the

vertical shaft which served as the entrance.

It was a great relief to be in a strong room, with solid walls of ice,

in place of the cramped tent flapping violently in the wind. Inside, the

silence was profound; the blizzard was banished. Aladdin's Cave it

was dubbed--a truly magical world of glassy facets and scintillating

crystals.

Shelves were chipped out at a moment's notice for primus stove, spirit

bottle, matches, kerosene and other oddments. At one side a small hole

was cut to communicate with a narrow fissure which provided ventilation

without allowing the entrance of drift snow. Whatever daylight there was

filtered through the roof and walls without hindrance. A small crevasse

opened near at hand and was a natural receptacle for rubbish. The purest

ice for cooking could be immediately hacked from the walls without the

inconvenience of having to don one's burberrys and go outside for it.

Finally, one neatly disposed of spare clothes by moistening the corner

of each garment and pressing it against the wall for a few seconds,

where it would remain hanging until required. The place, in fact, was

simply replete with conveniences. We thoroughly enjoyed the night's

rest in Aladdin's Cave, notwithstanding alarming cracks proceeding

occasionally from the crevasses around.

Madigan and Ninnis dug a shelter for the dogs, which spent their time

curled up so as to expose as little surface as possible to the biting

wind. Their thick coats did not adhere to a snow surface, but readily

became frozen down to ice, so that an ice-axe would have to be used to

chip them free.

On August 13, though there was a steady, strong wind blowing, we

continued our advance to the south. The dogs hated to face wind, but, on

the whole, did better than expected. In the afternoon, when only eight

miles south of Winter Quarters and at an altitude of two thousand feet,

dark and lowering clouds formed overhead, and I decided to give up any

idea of going farther out, for the time being. We had provisions for

a few days only, and there was every indication of thick, drifting

weather, during which, in the crevassed ice of that vicinity, it would

not be advisable to travel.

After depoting a pick, shovel and some pemmican, we started back,

thinking it might be possible to reach the Hut the same night. However,

driven by a strong wind over a polished, slippery surface split into

small crevasses, down a grade which steepened quickly, we required to

have all our senses vigilant. Two of the dogs remained in harness and

the rest were allowed to run loose ahead. These two strained every

effort to catch up to their companions.

We retarded the sledge as much as possible and all went well for a

few minutes. Then the wind slewed the sledge, the runners struck an

irregularity in the surface and the whole capsized. This happened

repeatedly, until there was nothing to do but loose the two remaining

dogs and drag the sledge ourselves. The dogs were soon lost to sight,

except Pavlova, who remained with us all the time. As the hours of

light were short in August, darkness had come before Aladdin's Cave was

reached, and it was with some relief that we saw the sledge, flag-pole

and the expectant dogs suddenly loom up in front. The sleeping-bags and

other gear were passed down into the Cave and the dogs were fed.

When the doorway was opened in the morning, August 14, a blizzard with

dense drifting snow was in full progress. As it was not possible to see

any distance, and as our quarters were very comfortable, we decided to

wait for another day. Madigan and Ninnis went out and fed the dogs, who

were all snugly curled up in beds of snow.

The weather was no better on the 15th, but, as we were only five and a

half miles from the Hut, which was more comfortable and where there was

much work to be done, it seemed a shame to remain cooped up in idleness.

Madigan and Ninnis were both strongly in favour of making a dash for the

Hut, so we set off.

The sledge having been dug out, one man went in front to keep the course

and two men brought up the rear, holding back the load. With long-spiked

Swiss crampons we could hold up very well on the ice. In dense drift it

was not a simple matter to steer a correct course for the Hut and it was

essential not to deviate, as the rocky foreshores near which it stood

extended only for a mile east and west; on either side abutting on

vertical ice-cliffs. With a compelling force like a prance at our backs,

it was not a nice thing to contemplate finding ourselves on the brink of

a precipice.

The wind, however, was steady, and we knew at what angle to steer

to keep a rough course; and we were also helped by a number of

small crevasses between three and five and a half miles which ran

approximately north and south.

Half a mile had been covered before we remarked the absence of the dogs

which had been left to follow. We had taken for granted that they would

follow us, and were so fully occupied after starting that their absence

had passed unnoticed. It would be difficult to locate them if we

returned; the weather would improve in a few days; if they felt hungry

they would come down of their own accord. So we decided to go on without

them.

At two miles from the Hut the drift thinned out and the wind became more

gusty. Between the gusts the view ahead opened out for a considerable

distance, and the rocks soon showed black below the last steep fall.

Back at the Hut it was arranged that if the dogs did not return in a

reasonable time, Bage, Mertz and Hurley should go up to Aladdin's Cave

in search of them.

They made a great effort to get away next morning. The sledge was hauled

for one thousand one hundred yards up to the magnetic ice-cave against a

bitter torrent of air rushing by at eighty-two miles an hour. Here they

retreated exhausted.

On the 17th the wind was gauged at eighty-four miles an hour, and

nothing could be done. Dense drift and ferocious wind continued until

the morning of August 21, and still none of the dogs had come home.

Bage, Hurley and Mertz took advantage of a slight lull to start off at

6.30 A.M. As they did not return that night we presumed they were making

good headway.

The drift was thick and the wind high for four days, and it was not

until the morning of the 25th that the weather showed clearer and more

promising. At 2 P.M. Bage and his companions arrived at the Hut bringing

all the dogs except Grandmother, who had died of exhaustion. Aladdin's

Cave had been difficult to find in the driving snow, which had thickened

after the first few miles. They actually passed close to it when Mertz,

between the gusts, sighted Castor jumping about, fully alive to the

approaching relief. The other dogs were found curled up in the snow, in

a listless, apathetic state; apparently in the same positions when left

seven days before. They had made no attempt to break into several bags

of provisions lying close at hand, preferring to starve rather than

expose their faces to the pelting drift. All were frozen down except

Basilisk and Castor. Pavlova was in the best condition, possibly because

her last meal had been an extra full one; a reward for remaining with us

when the others had bolted. Grandmother was in the worst condition,

and, despite all efforts at revival, died four hours after. As the poor

brutes were very weak after their long fast and exposure, they were

taken into the Cave and fed on warm hoosh. Everything possible was done

for them, and in return the party passed a very miserable time cramped

in such a small space with six dogs. The accommodation was slightly

increased by enlarging the Cave.

Five days of calm weather! It could scarcely be credited, yet September

came with such a spell. They gave us great opportunities, and, for once,

a vision of what perfect Antarctic days might be. The sea speedily froze

over and extended our territory to the north. Every day we dredged among

the tide-cracks, until Hunter and Laseron had material enough to sort

and bottle for weeks. Seals came up everywhere, and the dogs gorged on

much-needed meat and blubber. Three large Weddells were shot near the

"Eastern Barrier" on September 1, and hauled up an ice-cliff eighty feet

high to the rocks above. Work on the wireless masts went on apace, and

the geologist was abroad with his plane-table every day. Webb and Bage,

after a protracted interval, were able to take star observations for

time, in order to check the chronometers.

Mertz, Ninnis, Whetter and Laseron, with a team of dogs sledged a big

load of food-stuffs to Aladdin's Cave on September 1. At the Cave the

dogs were let loose, but instead of running back to the Hut, lingered

about and finally had to be led down the slope. On being loosed again,

several rushed back to the Cave and were only brought along by force.

That night, Scott and Franklin, two kindred spirits, were not present at

"roll-call".

On September 3, McLean, Whetter and Close took more provisions to

Aladdin's Cave. They reported light drift and wind on the highlands,

while at sea-level it was clear and calm.

The sea-ice was by then thick and safe. About half a mile off shore a

very successful dredging was made in fifty fathoms; the bottom at this

depth simply teemed with life. At first, the dredge, rope-coils, tub,

picks and other necessary implements were dragged about on a sledge, but

the sledge was hauled only with great difficulty and much exertion over

the sticky, new sea-ice. As a substitute a portable, steel handcart was

advantageously employed, although, owing to its weight, tide-cracks

and rotten areas had to be crossed at a run. On one occasion a flimsy

surface collapsed under it, and Hunter had a wetting before it was

hauled on to firmer ice.

On September 4 there was a cloud radiant from the northwest, indicative

of a change in the weather. Ninnis, Mertz and Murphy transported more

food-bags and kerosene to Aladdin's Cave. They found Franklin one and a

half miles south of the Hut lying on the ice quite well, but there was

no sign of Scott. Both dogs were seen on the 1st of the month, when they

were in a locality south-east of the Hut, where crevasses were numerous.

It seemed most probable that Scott had lost his life in one of them. The

party visiting the Cave reported a considerable amount of snow drifting

above a level of one thousand feet.

There was another day of successful dredging, and, about four o'clock,

while several men were still out on the ice, whirlies with great columns

of drift came steadily down the glacier, pouring over the seaward

cliffs. In a few minutes the snow-clouds were round the Hut and the wind

was not long in working up to eighty miles per hour. The dredging party

reached the land just in time; and the sea-ice drifted away to the

north. Thus ended one of the most remarkable periods of fine weather

experienced by us in Adelie Land, only to be excelled in the height of

summer.

The possibility of such a spell being repeated fired us with the hope

that after all a reasonable amount of sledging could be accomplished

in the spring. Three parties were chosen to reconnoitre in different

directions and to test the sledging gear. As we were far from being

confident in the weather, I made it clear that no party should penetrate

farther than fifty miles from the Hut, nor remain away longer than a

fortnight.

Webb, McLean and Stillwell, the southern reconnoitring party, were the

first to set off, leaving on September 7 against a wind of fifty-six

miles per hour. Between them they had only one pair of good spiked

crampons, and it was a hard, five hours' drag up to Aladdin's Cave. A

tent which had been spread over the entrance to keep out snow was picked

up here. It had suffered punctures and small tears from crampons, and,

as the next day was one of boisterous wind, the party spent it repairing

the tent and endeavouring to take magnetic observations. The latter had

to be abandoned owing to the instrument becoming iced up.

Next afternoon the wind fell to the forties, and the party struggled

on to the south for three miles two hundred yards and camped, as it was

necessary to make a search for a small depot of pemmican tins, a pick

and a shovel left by us in the vicinity in August. The drift cleared

at noon on the 11th, and the bamboo pole marking the depot appeared

a quarter of a mile away on the right. The pick, shovel and flag were

secured and another afternoon's march against a fifty-mile wind with

a temperature at -20 degrees F. brought the party three and a quarter

miles further, to a point eleven and three-quarter miles south of the

Hut. The wind rose to the eighties during the night, and there were

many small holes in the tent which provided more ventilation than was

agreeable. As the wind was too strong for travelling on the 12th, it was

decided to make a cave in case of accident to the tent.

A tunnel was driven into the sloping surface of the ice towards a

crevasse about a foot wide. It was a good ten hours' job in tough ice

before the crevasse was reached. Into the fissure all the hewn ice was

thrown instead of being laboriously shovelled up through the tunnel. The

"Cathedral Grotto" was soon finished, the tent was struck and the party

made themselves comfortable inside. The cavern was found to be a very

draughty place with a crevasse along one wall, and it was difficult to

keep warm in one-man sleeping-bags. The crevasse was accordingly closed

with ice and snow. That evening and on several subsequent occasions

McLean took blood-pressure observations.

During the next three days the wind was so strong that Webb's were the

only crampons in which any efficient marching could be done. The time

was spent in building a high break-wind of ice-blocks, a pit being

excavated on the windward side in which Webb took a full set of magnetic

observations. Within the "Grotto" the instrument rapidly became coated

with ice-crystals; in the open air this difficulty did not arise, but

others had to be overcome. It was exceedingly cold work at -20 degrees

F. in a sixty-mile wind, both for Webb and his recorder Stillwell.

There seemed no hope of going forward, so the depot flag was hoisted

and a fortnight's provisions and kerosene stowed in the lee of the

break-wind. It was a furious race back to the Hut via Aladdin's Cave

with a gusty, seventy-five-mile wind in the rear. McLean and Stillwell

actually skied along on their short blunt crampons, while Webb did his

best to brake behind.

The second party comprised Ninnis, Mertz, and Murphy, who went to the

south-east, leaving on September 11. After a hard fight to Aladdin's

Cave, the wind approaching fifty miles an hour, they diverged to the

south-east. On the 12th they made steady progress up the slope of the

glacier, delayed by many small crevasses. The surface was so rough that

the nuts on the sledge-meter soon became loose and it was necessary to

stop every quarter of a mile to adjust them. The day's march was a solid

five and three quarter miles against a fifty-mile wind.

On the 13th Ninnis's record proceeds as follows:

"The sky was still clear but the wind had increased to sixty-five miles

per hour, the temperature standing at -17 degrees F.

"We kept on the same course; the glacier's slope being steeper.

Mertz was as usual wearing leather boots and mountaineering crampons,

otherwise progress would have been practically impossible; the finnesko

crampons worn by Murphy and myself giving very little foothold.

Travelling was very slow indeed, and when we camped at 4 P.M., two and a

half miles was all that had been covered.

"At 9.15 A.M. (September 14) the wind practically dropped, and we

advanced under perfect conditions."

They had not gone far, however, before the wind suddenly increased so

that only about four and a half miles were completed in the day. That

evening, curiously enough, it fell calm for a time; then there was a

period of alternating violent winds and calm.

On Sunday, September 15, it was impossible for them to move, as a

hurricane raged outside. The tent was very much damaged by the wind, but

in that state it managed to stand up till next morning. In the

meantime all three fully dressed themselves and lay in their three-man

sleeping-bag ready to take to the road at a moment's notice.

The next morning, at a distance of eighteen miles southeast of the

Hut, there was nothing for it but to make for Aladdin's Cave, which was

safely reached by a forced march of twelve and three-quarter miles, with

a furious wind partly abeam. On the way the sledge was blown sideways

on to the lids of many wide crevasses, which, fortunately for the party,

were strong at that season of the year.

From the realistic reports of the two parties which had returned it was

evident that Madigan and his companions, Close and Whetter who had set

out on the 12th to the west were having a bad time. But it was not till

the 23rd, after a week of clear skies, low temperatures and unceasing

drift-free wind that we began to feel apprehensive about them.

September 24 and 25 were punctuated by several intervals of calm during

which it was judged the party would have been able to travel.

On the morning of September 26 Ninnis and Mertz, with a team of dogs,

set off up the hill to Aladdin's Cave to deposit some provisions and to

scan the horizon for any sign of the sledgers. On the way they fell in

with them descending the slopes, very worn and frost-bitten.

They had a thrilling story to tell, and, when it was known that the

party had reached fifty miles to the west, everybody crowded round to

listen.

The wind average at the Hut during their fortnight of absence was

fifty-eight miles per hour, implying worse conditions on the plateau.

Madigan gave the facts:

"After leaving Aladdin's Cave on the 12th we continued due south,

lunching at 2 P.M. on the site of Webb's first camp. Our troubles had

already begun; the wind averaging sixty miles an hour all day with a

temperature at noon of -14 degrees F.

"As a few tears appeared in the tent during the night, we saw that it

would not be advisable to put it up next day for lunch, so we had a

cold meal, crouched in the lee of the sledge. This custom was found

to economize time, as we became so cold eating our fare of biscuit,

chocolate and butter that we got moving again as soon as possible.

The great disadvantage was that there was nothing to drink between the

morning and evening meals.

"We sewed up the rents in the tent during the halt, having to use bare

fingers in the open. About four stitches at a time were as much as one

man could manage, and then the other two took their turns.

"The next day was the only comparatively calm period of the two weeks of

travelling. The wind was in the vicinity of thirty miles per hour, and,

going west, we reached a spot, twenty miles 'out,' on a snow-covered

surface, by nightfall.

"A steady seventy-five-mile wind blew all day on the 15th at right

angles to our course, accompanied by a thick, low drift. The surface was

partially consolidated snow, very hard and smooth. Sometimes the sledge

would grip and we could pull straight ahead. Then, suddenly, it would

slide away sideways down wind and often pull us off our feet with

a sudden vicious jerk. Most of the time we were dragging in a

south-westerly direction to make the sledge run west, stumbling through

the drift with the sledge now behind us, now sliding away to leeward,

often capsizing and requiring to be laboriously righted and sometimes

repacked.

"After many experiments, we found the best device was to have two men

on the bow-rope, about twenty feet long, and one with about ten feet

of rope attached to the rear of the sledge. The man on the tail-rope,

usually Whetter, found it very difficult to keep his feet, and, after a

score of falls in stinging drift with incidental frost-bites on fingers

and cheeks, he did not feel exactly cheerful.

"By 4 P.M. on the 15th we had reached twenty-five miles and were

exhausted. We pitched camp at an early hour, partly influenced by the

fact that it was a special occasion--Close's birthday! Some port wine

had been slipped in to provide against that 'emergency.' On taking the

precious bottle from the instrument-box, I found that the cork was out,

and, for one awful moment, thought the bottle was empty. Then I realized

that the wine had frozen solid and had pushed the cork out by its

expansion on solidification.

"At last, the tent safely pitched and hoosh and cocoa finished, the

moment came to drink to Close's health and happiness. The bottle had

stood on the top of the cooker while the meal was being prepared, but

the wine was still as solid as ever. After being shaken and held over

the primus for a good half-hour it began to issue in lumps. Once the

lumps were secured in mugs the rest of the thawing was easy. Finally, we

toasted Close and his wife (in far Australia) in what we voted to be

the finest draught it had ever been our good fortune to drink. In the

morning a cairn was made of the snow-blocks which were taken from

the tent-skirt, and it was surmounted with the bottle, being called

'Birthday Camp.'

"During September 16 my right eyelid became frostbitten. I noticed that

it was hard and refused to shut, so I rubbed vigorously to bring it

round. However, it swelled and blistered badly and the eye remained

closed for two days.

"From twenty to fifty miles 'out', the surface was neve with areas

of sastrugi up to three feet in height. No crevasses were noticed. At

twenty-eight miles out, we lost sight of the sea, and at forty miles an

altitude of four thousand five hundred feet was reached.

"We turned out at 6 A.M. every morning and were on the move by 9 A.M.

Lunch only took half an hour and was a most uncomfortable meal. As we

sat in the lee of the sledge, the surface-drift swirled up in our

faces like fine sand. We never camped before 6 P.M. and were obliged to

consider five miles a good day's run.

"Pitching camp took nearly an hour. Blocks of snow were cut and arranged

in a semicircle, within which the tent was laid with its peak upwind. It

sounds simple enough, but, as we had to take off crampons so as not to

tread on the tent, our difficulties were enormously increased by having

to move about wearing finnesko on a smooth surface in a high wind. One

man crawled into the tent, and, at a given signal, the other two raised

the peak while the former held on to the upwind leg and kicked the other

legs into place with his feet. The others then quickly piled food-tanks

and blocks of snow on to the skirt, calling out as soon as there was

enough to hold it down, as the man gripping the bamboo leg inside would

soon have 'deadly cold' fingers. It was always a great relief when the

tent was up.

"Almost every night there was some sewing to do, and it was not long

before every one's fingers were in a bad state. They became, especially

near the tips, as hard as wood and devoid of sensation. Manipulating

toggles and buttons on one's clothing gave an immense amount of trouble,

and it always seemed an interminable time before we got away in the

morning. Our lowest temperature was -35 degrees F., early on September

18.

"We were fifty miles 'out' on September 19 on a white, featureless

plain. Through low drift we had seen very little of our surroundings

on the march. A bamboo pole with a black flag was raised, a mound was

built, and a week's provisions for three men and two gallons of kerosene

were cached.

"In the morning there was a howling eighty-mile blizzard with dense

drift, and our hopes of an early start homeward were dispelled. We

feared for the safety of the tent, knowing that if it had gone during

that 'blow' our hopes of getting back to the Hut would have been small.

"The wind continued all day and the next night, but, to our joy, abated

on the 21st to fifty miles an hour, permitting us to travel.

"Through a seventy-five-miler on the 22nd and a quieter day on the 23rd,

we picked up our half-way mound at Birthday Camp on September 24. On

the same night the long-suffering sledge-meter, much battered, gave up

recording.

"At 3 A.M. I was awakened by something striking me on the head. I looked

out of the sleeping-bag and found that the tent had fallen in on us. The

lashing at the apex had carried away and the poles upwind were almost

flat. The cap was gone, and one side of the tent was split from top to

bottom. I awakened the others, and Whetter and I got out, leaving Close

inside to hang on to the bag. Luckily we had kept on our burberrys in

case of accidents. For once the entrance had not to be unfastened, as

there was a ready-made exit. The poles were roughly bound together

with an alpine rope and anchored to a pick on the windward side. It was

blowing about eighty miles an hour, but fortunately there was no drift.

When daylight came the tent was found to be hopelessly ruined, and

to light the primus was impossible, though the wind had abated to

thirty-five miles an hour.

"We ate some frozen food and pushed on, hoping to find Aladdin's Cave

before dark, so that we should not have to spend a night without a tent.

After a struggle of thirteen miles over rough ice we came, footsore and

worn out, to Aladdin's Cave. Close's feet were badly blistered, and both

my big toes had become frost-bitten at the fifty-mile camp, giving me a

good deal of trouble on the way back.

"Never was the Cave a more luxurious place. The cooker was kept busy far

into the night, while we drank and smoked and felt happy."

The successful conclusion of this journey in the face of the most

adverse weather conditions was something upon which Madigan, Whetter and

Close could well feel proud, for in its way it must be a record in the

sledging world. They were indeed badly frost-bitten; Madigan's great

toes having suffered most of all. Whetter's chief injury was a wound

under the chin occasioned by a pair of scissors handled by Madigan to

free Whetter's helmet on an occasion when it was firmly frozen to his

face.

On October 1, Mertz, Hurley and Ninnis made a gallant attempt to rescue

two dogs, Basilisk and Franklin, which had remained at Aladdin's Cave on

September 26, after accompanying them there with a load of provisions.

At the Hut there was no drift, but during the ascent it became thicker,

and the wind stronger, forcing them at last to turn back.

Two days later another attempt was made by Ninnis and Mertz, and, in

dense drift, after wandering about for a long time they happened on the

Cave, to find that the dogs were not there, though spots were discovered

where they had evidently been sleeping in the snow. Coming back

disconsolately, they found that the dogs had reached the Hut not long

before them. Apparently the two vagrants, hearing Ninnis and Mertz

blundering about in the drift in search of the depot, had decided

that it was time to return home. We concluded that the ways of these

Greenland dogs were past finding out.

October came with a deluge of snow and transient hours of bright

sunlight, during which the seals would make a temporary landing and

retire again to the water when their endurance was exhausted. Snow

petrels flew in great numbers about the rocks in the evening, seeking

out their old nest-crevices. Seeing these signs of returning life, every

one was in great expectation of the arrival of the penguins.

On the night of the 11th, Hurley, Laseron, Hunter and Correll made an

innovation by presenting a small farce to an audience which had been

starved of dramatic entertainment for a long time, and consequently

showed tremendous appreciation.

The first penguin came waddling up the ice-foot against a seventy-mile

wind late on the afternoon of October 12. McLean brought the bird back

to the Hut and the newcomer received a great ovation. Stimulated by

their success on the previous night and the appearance of the first

penguin, the theatrical company added to their number, and, dispensing

with a rehearsal, produced an opera, "The Washerwoman's Secret"

(Laseron). Part of the Hut was curtained off as a combined green-room

and dressing-room; the kitchen was the stage; footlights twinkled on the

floor; the acetylene limelight beamed down from the rafters, while the

audience crowded on a form behind the dining-table, making tactless

remarks and steadily eating chocolate.

The typed programmes advertised the following:

THE WASHERWOMAN'S SECRET

(Opera in Five Acts)

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

DR. STAKANHOISER (Tenor) "Hoyle" Hurley

CHEVALIER DE TINTAIL (Fiver) "Johnny" Hunter

BARON DE BRENT (Basso) "Joe" Laseron

COUNT HOOPENKOFF (Barrowtone) "Little Willie" Correll

MADAM FUCLOSE (Don't Sing) "Also Joe" Laseron

JEMIMA FUCLOSE (Soprano) "Dad" McLean

DR. STAKANHOISER'S Dog " Monkey" Greenland Pup

VILLAGE IDIOT "Bick" Bickerton

ORCHESTRA "Stillwater Willie" StillWell

ACT I

SCENE: Room in poorer part of Berlin: MADAM FUCLOSE in bed dying: JEMIMA

at table washing clothes

Song "When Sparrows Build" JEMIMA

[Knock at door. Enter Dr. STAKANHOISER.

Song: "I vas a Doctor"

[Attends MADAM FUCLOSE, who, when dying, tells him that JEMIMA is not

her daughter, but the Princess of Adeliana, whom she has rescued in

Paris during the Revolution.

Death Scene and Chorus: "Who Killed my Mother?"

ACT II

SCENE: Beneath JEMIMA'S window

[Enter Dr. STAKANHOISER disguised as organ grinder.

Song: "Vurds der Likum" Dr. S.

[JEMIMA opens window and throws flour on DOCTOR.

[Enter BARON DE BRENT, kicks DOCTOR out.

Song: "Baron of Brent"

[BARON makes love to JEMIMA, who laughs at him.

Duet: "Wilt love me" JEMIMA and BARON

[Enter CHEVALIER DE TINTAIL, who denounces the BARON as already having

four wives. The BARON goes off, muttering revenge.

Song: "I'm in love with a wonderful lady" CHEVALIER

[The CHEVALIER makes love to JEMIMA, who loves him in return.

Chorus: "Jemima"

ACT III

SCENE: Conspirators' Chamber

[Enter DOCTOR, who hides behind a barrel.

[Enter COUNT HOOPENKOFF, who amuses himself playing a piccolo.

[Enter BARON. They discuss plot to kidnap Princess, which is overheard

by DOCTOR.

[Enter Ghost, who frightens conspirators away.

Chorus: "Little Willie Smith"

ACT IV

SCENE: JEMIMA's room

[The CHEVALIER DE TINTAIL is waiting.

Song: "I want you to see my Girl" CHEVALIER

[Enter JEMIMA. Love scene.

[Enter DOCTOR, who discloses the plot he has heard and tells JEMIMA

of her high descent. The CHEVALIER and the DOCTOR hide, and the two

villains, by means of a ladder, enter the room. The heroes spring from

their hiding-place and the villains are ejected.

Chorus: "There is a Wash-House"

ACT V

SCENE: Conspirators' Chamber

[The BARON and COUNT enter by different doors. They accuse each other of

having betrayed the plot. Duel follows in which both are killed.

Duet: "Mort de Botheo" COUNT and BARON

[All the others rush in. The two lovers come together and the DOCTOR

says, "God bless you, my children."

Chorus: "Auld Lang Syne" COMPANY and AUDIENCE

And

GOD SAVE THE KING

Played by the Society for the Prevention of the Blues.

Saturday, October 12, 1912.

ADELIE HALL

Admission Free. Children Half Price.

October 13 was known as Black Sunday. We were all seated at dinner and

the Hut was quivering in the tornado-like gusts which followed a heavy

"blow" reaching a maximum hourly average of ninety-one miles. One mighty

blast was followed by a crack and the sound of a heavy falling body. For

a moment it was thought that something had happened to the Hut. Then the

messman ran out to the trap-door and saw that the northern wireless mast

had disappeared.

The weather showed but meagre signs of improvement, but the penguins

came up in great numbers. They were in groups all along the ice-foot

in the lee of rocks and icy pinnacles. They climbed up to their old

resorts, and in a few days commenced to build nests of small pebbles.

Skua gulls mysteriously appeared, snow petrels hovered along the rocky

ridges and odd seals landed on the wind-raked harbour ice. Silver-grey

and Antarctic petrels flew along the shore with occasional Cape pigeons.

If the weather were indifferent to the fact, the birds did not forget

that spring had come.

A Weddell seal calved on the bay-ice on October 18. For a week the pup

had a miserable time in winds ranging mostly about the seventies, with

the temperature below zero Fahrenheit. At last it became so weak that

it thawed a hole in the soft, sludgy ice and could not extricate itself.

Both it and the mother were killed and skinned for the biological

collection.

On all but the worst days a gang of men worked with picks and shovels

digging out the Hangar, so that Bickerton could test the air-tractor

sledge. The attack was concentrated upon a solid bank of snow and ice

into which heaps of tins and rubbish had been compactly frozen. In soft

snow enormous headway can be made in a short space of time, but in that

species of conglomerate, progress is slow. Eventually, a cutting was

made by which the machine could pass out. The rampart of snow was broken

through at the northern end of the Hangar, and the sledge with its long

curved runners was hauled forth triumphantly on the 25th. From that

time onwards Bickerton continued to experiment and to improve the

contrivance.

On October 21 there was a marked thaw inside the Hut. The frost

along all the cracks dissolved into water and ran down the walls over

pictures, on to book-shelves and bunks. The thick caking of ice on the

windows dripped continually, coming away in layers at lunch-time and

scattering among the diners at both ends of the table. Every available

bucket and tub was in use, and small tin-gutters hooked under each

window had to be emptied at frequent intervals.

Stillwell came in during the afternoon bearing an albino penguin with

a prettily mottled head; a curious freak of which the biologists

immediately took possession. The penguins now swarmed along the

foreshores, those not settling down in the rookeries wandering about

in small crowds, occasionally visiting the Hut and exploring among the

rocks or up the slippery glacier. Murphy was heard, at this time, to

advance a theory accounting for the fact that Adelie penguins never made

their nests on a scale more elaborate than a collection of stones.

He submitted that anything else would be blown away. To support the

contention, he stated that as soon as the female lays her egg, she

places a stone on top to weight it down. The biologists kept a dignified

silence during the discussion.

On the 21st an Emperor penguin landed on the harbour ice, and, early in

November, two more were captured. These imperial birds are very rare

on the coasts of Adelie Land, owing to the fact that their winter

breeding-grounds in Antarctica are selected in spots where climatic

conditions are comparatively good.

October closed with an average wind velocity of 56.9 miles per hour.

Yet the possibility of summer sledging was no longer remote. The sun

was high, spells of calm were longer and more frequent, and, with the

certain knowledge that we should be on the plateau in November, the

sledging parties were chosen, schemes of exploration were discussed, and

the last details for an extensive campaign completed.

CHAPTER XII ACROSS KING GEORGE V LAND

We yearned beyond the skyline.--Kipling

October had passed without offering any opportunities for sledging, and

we resolved that in defiance of all but the worst weather a start would

be made in November. The 'Aurora' was due to arrive early in January

1913 and the time at our disposal for exploration was slipping away

rapidly.

The investigation by sledging journeys of the coastline to the eastward

was regarded as of prime importance, for our experience in the 'Aurora'

when in those longitudes during the previous year was such as to give

little promise of its ever being accomplished from the sea.

Westward, the coast was accessible from the sea; at least for some

distance in that direction. Madigan's journey in the springtime had

demonstrated that, if anything, the land to the west was steeper, and

consequently more windy conditions might be expected there. Further, it

was judged that information concerning this region would be forthcoming

from the ship, which had cruised westward after leaving Adelie Land in

January 1912. The field in that direction was therefore not so promising

as that to the east.

On this account the air-tractor sledge, of somewhat doubtful utility,

was detailed for use to the westward of Winter Quarters, and, as it

was obvious that the engine could only be operated in moderately good

weather, its final departure was postponed until December.

The following is a list of the parties which had been arranged and

which, now fully equipped, were on the tiptoe of expectation to depart.

(1) A Southern Party composed of Bage (leader), Webb and Hurley. The

special feature of their work was to be magnetic observations in the

vicinity of the South Magnetic Pole.

(2) A Southern Supporting Party, including Murphy (leader), Hunter and

Laseron, who were to accompany the Southern Party as far as possible,

returning to Winter Quarters by the end of November.

(3) A Western Party of three men--Bickerton (leader), Hodgeman and

Whetter--who were to traverse the coastal highlands west of the Hut.

Their intention was to make use of the air-tractor sledge and the

departure of the party was fixed for early December.

(4) Stillwell, in charge of a Near Eastern Party, was to map the

coastline between Cape Denison and the Mertz Glacier-Tongue, dividing

the work into two stages. In the first instance, Close and Hodgeman were

to assist him; all three acting partly as supports to the other eastern

parties working further afield. After returning to the Hut at the end

of November for a further supply of stores, he was to set out again with

Close and Laseron in order to complete the work.

(5) An Eastern Coastal Party composed of Madigan (leader), McLean and

Correll was to start in early November with the object of investigating

the coastline beyond the Mertz Glacier.

(6) Finally, a Far-Eastern Party, assisted by the dogs, was to push

out rapidly overland to the southward of Madigan's party, mapping more

distant sections of the coastline, beyond the limit to which the latter

party would be likely to reach.

As the plans for the execution of such a journey had of necessity to

be more provisional than in the case of the others, I determined to

undertake it, accompanied by Ninnis and Mertz, both of whom had so ably

acquitted themselves throughout the Expedition and, moreover, had always

been in charge of the dogs.

November opened with more moderate weather, auguring still better

conditions for midsummer. Accordingly November 6 was fixed as the date

of final departure for several of the parties. The evening of November

5 was made a special occasion: a farewell dinner, into which everybody

entered very heartily.

On the morning of the 6th, however, we found a strong blizzard raging

and the landscape blotted out by drift-snow, which did not clear until

the afternoon of the following day.

At the first opportunity, Murphy, Hunter and Laseron (supporting the

Southern Party) got away, but found the wind so strong at a level of

one thousand feet on the glacier that they anchored their sledge and

returned to the Hut for the night.

The next morning saw them off finally and, later in the day, the

Near-Eastern Party (Stillwell, Close and Hodgeman) and the Eastern

Coastal Party (Madigan, McLean and Correll) got under way, though there

was still considerable wind.

My own party was to leave on the 9th for, assisted by the dogs, we could

easily catch up to the other eastern parties, and it was our intention

not to part company with them until all were some distance out on the

road together.

The wind increased on the 9th and the air became charged with drift,

so we felt sure that those who preceded us would still be camped at

Aladdin's Cave, and that the best course was to wait.

At this date the penguin rookeries were full of new-laid eggs, and the

popular taste inclined towards omelettes, in the production of which

Mertz was a past master. I can recall the clamouring throng who pressed

round for the final omelette as Mertz officiated at the stove just

before we left on the 10th.

It was a beautiful calm afternoon as the sledge mounted up the long icy

slopes. The Southern Party (Bage, Webb and Hurley) were a short distance

in advance, but by the help of the dogs we were soon abreast of

them. Then Bickerton, who had given Bage's party a pull as far as the

three-mile post, bade us good-bye and returned to the Hut where he was

to remain in charge with Whetter and Hannam until the return of Murphy's

party.

At Aladdin's Cave, while some prepared supper, others selected tanks of

food from the depot and packed the sledges. After the meal, the Southern

Party bade us farewell and set off at a rapid rate, intending to

overhaul their supporting party on the same evening at the Cathedral

Grotto, eleven and three-quarter miles from the Hut. Many finishing

touches had to be put to our three sledges and two teams of dogs, so

that the departure was delayed till next morning.

We were up betimes and a good start was made before anything came of the

overcast sky which had formed during the night. The rendezvous appointed

for meeting the others, in case we had not previously caught them up,

was eighteen miles south-east of Aladdin's Cave. But, with a view to

avoiding crevasses as much as possible, a southerly course was followed

for several miles, after which it was directed well to the east. In the

meantime the wind had arisen and snow commenced to fall soon after noon.

In such weather it was impossible to locate the other parties, so a halt

was made and the tent pitched after eight miles.

Five days of wind and drift followed, and for the next two days we

remained in camp. Then, on the afternoon of the 13th, the drift became

less dense, enabling us to move forward on an approximate course to what

was judged to be the vicinity of the rendezvous, where we camped again

for three days.

Comfortably ensconced in the sleeping-bags, we ate only a small ration

of food; the savings being carefully put away for a future "rainy day."

Outside, the dogs had at first an unpleasant time until they were buried

in snow which sheltered them from the stinging wind. Ninnis and Mertz

took turns day by day attending to their needs.

The monotony and disappointment of delay were just becoming acute

when the wind fell off, and the afternoon of November 16 turned out

gloriously fine.

Several excursions were immediately made in the neighbourhood to seek

for the whereabouts of the other parties, but all were unsuccessful. At

length it occurred to us that something serious might have happened, so

we left our loads and started back at a gallop for Aladdin's Cave with

two empty sledges, Mertz careering ahead on skis over the sastrugi

field.

Shortly afterwards two black specks were seen away in the north; a

glance with the binoculars leaving no doubt as to the identity of the

parties. We returned to the loads, and, having picked them up, made a

course to the east to intercept the other men.

It was a happy camp that evening!with the three tents pitched together,

while we compared our experiences of the previous six days and made

plans for the outward journey.

Our sledge-meter had already suffered through bumping over rough ice and

sastrugi, and an exchange was made with the stronger one on Stillwell's

sledge. A quantity of food was also taken over from him and the loads

were finally adjusted.

The details and weights of the equipment on the three sledges belonging

to my party are sufficiently interesting to be set out at length below.

Most of the items were included in the impedimenta of all our parties,

but slight variations were necessary to meet particular stances or to

satisfy the whim of an individual.

TOTAL LOAD

The Principal Sledge, 11ft. long, 45 lb.

Fittings for Same: Instrument-box 7 lb. 5 oz.; cooker-box, 7 lb.

6 oz.; kerosene-tray, 3 lb.; mast-attachment, 2 lb. 8 oz.; mast, 1 lb.

16 oz.; spar, 1 lb. 8 oz.; decking (canvas and bamboo), 3 lb. 5 oz.;

rigging, 7.5 oz.; 5 leather straps, 5 lb..... 77 lb. 6.5 oz.

Drill Tent, strengthened and attached to poles, also floor-cloth,

33 lb. Spare drill cover, 11 lb. 8 oz........ 44 lb. 8 oz.

Sleeping-bags, 3 one-man bags............ 30 lb. 0 oz.

Cooking gear: Nansen cooker, 11 lb. 3 oz.; 3 mugs, 1 lb. 8 oz., 2 tins,

10 oz.; scales, 0.5 oz.; 3 spoons, 1.5 oz.; matches, 13.5 oz., and

damp-proof tin to hold same, 3.7 oz.; "Primus" heater, full, 3 lb.

10 oz.; "Primus" prickers, 2.5 oz.; "Primus" repair outfit, 2 oz.;

kerosene tin openers and pourers, 4.5 oz.; spirit for "Primus" in

tin, 5 lb. 14 oz., also a ready bottle, full, 1 lb. 5 oz.

........................... 25 lb. 14.2 oz.

Repair Outfit: Spare copper wire, rivets, needles, thread, etc.,

1 lb. 14.5 oz.; set of 12 tools, 15.5 oz.; requirements for repairing

dog-harness and medically treating the dogs, 3 lb. 8 oz

........................ 6 lb. 6 oz.

Medical Outfit: 6 "Burroughs & Wellcome" first field dressings;

absorbent cotton wool; boric wool; pleated lint; pleated bandages,

roll bandages; adhesive tape; liquid collodion; "tabloid" ophthalmic

drugs for treating snow-blindness; an assortment of "tabloid" drugs

for general treatment; canvas case containing scissors, forceps,

artery-forceps, scalpel, surgical needles and silk, etc.

........................... 2 lb. 12.3 oz. Photographic outfit:

A 1/4-plate, long, extension-camera in a case,

with special stiffening board and 36 cut films, 4 lb. 4.5 oz.;

adaptor to accommodate camera to theodolite legs, 2 oz.; a water-tight

tin with 14 packets, each containing 12 cut films, 3 lb.10 oz.

............................8 lb. 0.5 oz.

Surveying Requirements: A 3" transit theodolite in case, 5 lb. 14 oz.;

legs for the same, 3 lb. 6 oz.; sledge-meter, 8 lb.; Tables from

Nautical Almanack and book of Logarithmic Tables, 1 lb. 3 oz.;

2 note books, 1 lb. 6 oz.; angle-books, 5 oz.; map-tube, 10 oz.;

maps, 6.5 oz.; pencils, 1.5 oz.; dividers and rubber, 1.5 oz.;

protractor and set-square, 0.5 oz.; prismatic compass and clinometer,

8.5 oz.; sun-compass (Bage's), 1.5 oz......... 22 lb. 0 oz.

Other Instruments: Zeiss prismatic binoculars X.12, 1 lb. 13.5 oz.;

hypsometer, 2 lb. 1 oz.; 2 ordinary and 2 small minimum thermometers,

10 oz.; specimen labels, l oz............. 4 lb. 9.5 oz.

Rifle, 22-bore with cover and cleaner, 3 lb. 3.7 oz.; ammunition,

1 lb. 6 oz.; sheath knife, 5.5 oz.; sharpening stone, 1.5 oz.;

fishing line and hooks, 3.5 oz............. 4 lb. 14.7 oz.

Waterproof Clothe-bag, 4 lb. 8 oz., containing 9 pairs of finnesko

stuffed with saennegrass, 21 lb.; extra saennegrass, 3 lb.; 3 private

kit-bags containing spare clothing, etc., 39 lb.; 4 extra rolls of

lampwick for lashings, 1 lb. 3.5 oz.......... 64 lb. 3.5 oz.

Odd gear: Pick, 4 lb. 5 oz.; 2 spades, 8 lb. 4 oz.; ice-axe, 2 lb.

4 oz.; alpine rope (20 metros) 3 lb.; skis (1 pair), 11 lb.;

ski-stick, 1 lb. 1 oz.; ski-boots (2 pairs), 6 lb.; attachable

crampons for the same, 4 lb.; finnesko-crampons (3 pairs), 9 lb.;

3 man-harnesses, 6 lb. 8 oz.; man-hauling tow-rope, 1 lb. 1 oz.;

flags, 9.5 oz.; a water-proof bag to hold oddments, 4 lb. 8 oz.

............................ 61 lb. 8.5 oz.

Beacons: A depot-flag and bamboo pole, 5 lb.; a special metal

depot-beacon, mast, flag and stays, 16 lb.; 2 damp-proof tins for

depositing records at depots, 7.5 oz.......... 21 lb. 7.5 oz.

Other Sledges: A second sledge decked with Venesta boarding and

fitted with straps.................. 55 lb. 0 oz.

A third sledge, 12 ft. long and strong rope lashings (spare spars

mentioned elsewhere acting as decking)........ 60 lb. 0 oz.

Fuel: Kerosene, 6 gallons in one-gallon tins..... 60 lb. 0 oz.

Food: Man Food: 9 weeks' supplies for 3 men on the ration scale;

also 25 lb. weight of special foods--'perks'..... 475 lb. 0 oz.

Dog Food: Dried seal meat, blubber and pemmican; also the weight of

the tin and bag-containers.............. 700 lb. 0 oz.

Total........................ 1723 lb. 11.3 oz.

Madigan's and Stillwell's parties broke trail to the east on the morning

of the 17th while we were still attending to the sledges and dogs

preparatory to departure. It was decided that Gadget, a rather miserable

animal, who had shown herself useless as a puller thus far, should be

killed. The following dogs then remained:--Basilisk, Shackleton, Ginger

Bitch, Franklin, John Bull, Mary, Haldane, Pavlova, Fusilier, Jappy,

Ginger, George, Johnson, Castor, Betli and Blizzard.

We went in pursuit of the other six men over a surface of rough

sastrugi. The dogs, who were in fine fettle, rushed the sledges along,

making frantic efforts to catch up to the parties ahead, who showed as

black specks across the white undulating plain.

At noon all lunched together, after which we separated, shaking hands

warmly all round and interchanging the sledgers' "Good luck!" Our dogs

drew away rapidly to the east, travelling on a slight down grade; the

other two parties with their man-hauled sledges following in the same

direction. The surface was splendid, the weather conditions were ideal,

the pace, if anything, too rapid, for capsizes were apt to occur in

racing over high sastrugi. Any doubts as to the capability of the

dogs to pull the loads were dispelled; in fact, on this and on many

subsequent occasions, two of us were able to sit, each one on a sledge,

while the third broke trail ahead.

In sledging over wide, monotonous wastes with dogs as the motive power,

it is necessary to have a forerunner, that is, somebody to go ahead and

point the way, otherwise the dogs will run aimlessly about. Returning

over old tracks, they will pull along steadily and keep a course. In

Adelie Land we had no opportunity of verifying this, as the continuous

winds soon obliterated the impression of the runners.

If the weather is reasonably good and food is ample, sledging dogs enjoy

their work. Their desire to pull is doubtless inborn, implanted in a

long line of ancestors who have faithfully served the Esquimaux. We

found that the dogs were glad to get their harnesses on and to be led

away to the sledge. Really, it was often a case of the dog leading the

man, for, as soon as its harness was in place, the impatient animal

strained to drag whatever might be attached to the other end of the

rope. Before attaching a team of dogs to a sledge, it was necessary to

anchor the latter firmly, otherwise in their ardour they would make off

with it before everything was ready.

There can be no question as to the value of dogs as a means of traction

in the Polar regions, except when travelling continuously over very

rugged country, over heavily crevassed areas, or during unusually

bad weather. It is in such special stances that the superiority of

man-hauling has been proved. Further, in an enterprise where human life

is always at stake, it is only fair to put forward the consideration

that the dogs represent a reserve of food in case of extreme emergency.

We continued due eastwards until five o'clock on the afternoon of the

17th at an altitude of two thousand six hundred feet. On the crest of a

ridge, which bore away in distinct outline, on our left, a fine panorama

of coastal scenery was visible. Far off on the eastern horizon the Mertz

Glacier Tongue discovered itself in a long wall touched in luminous

bands by the south-western sun. A wide valley fell away in front, and

beyond it was a deep indentation of the coastline, which would make it

necessary for us to follow a more southerly course in order to round its

head.

I determined to convey to the other parties my intentions, which had

become more defined on seeing this view; and, in the meantime, we halted

and treated ourselves to afternoon tea. This innovation in the ordinary

routine was extended to a custom by saving a portion of the lunch ration

for a "snack" at 5 P.M. on all days when the weather was moderately

good. As latitude sights were required at midday and longitude shots at

5 P.M., the arrangement was very convenient, for, while one of us made

tea, the other two took the observations.

About 6 P.M. the two man-hauled sledges came up with us, our plans for

the future were reviewed and the final instructions were given. We bade

our comrades adieu and, turning to the south-east, descended quickly

down a long slope leading into the valley. The sky was overcast and it

was almost impossible to see the irregularities of the surface. Only a

dull-white glare met the eyes, and the first indication of a hillock was

to stub one's toes against it, or of a depression to fall into it. We

pulled up the dogs at 7.30 P.M. after covering thirteen and a quarter

miles in the day.

At 9.45 A.M. on November 18 everything was ready for a fresh start. The

other parties could be seen rapidly bearing down on us under full

sail, but our willing teams had soon dragged the three sledges over an

eminence and out of their sight.

It was a lovely day; almost like a dream after the lengthy months of

harassing blizzards. A venturesome skua gull appeared at lunch time,

just as an observation for latitude was being taken. By the time Ninnis

had unpacked the rifle the bird had flown away.

The direction of the sastrugi was found to vary from that which obtained

farther west, owing to a slight swing in the direction of the prevailing

wind. The irregularities in the coastline account for this; the wind

tending to flow down to sea-level by the nearest route.

To the north-west, behind us, a projecting ridge of rock--Madigan

Nunatak--came into sight. From the camp of the previous evening it had

evidently been hidden from view by an undulation in the surface.

During the afternoon it was noted that the surface had become very

deeply eroded by the wind, troughs three feet in depth being common,

into which the sledges frequently capsized. Each of us took it in turn

to run ahead, jumping from one sastruga to another. As these were firm

and polished by the constant wind, one often slipped with a sudden shock

to the ground. Our bodies were well padded with clothing and we were

beginning to get into good form, so that these habitual tumbles were

taken with the best grace we could muster. I surprised myself during the

afternoon, when my turn came as forerunner, by covering two and a half

miles at a jog-trot without a break. The grade was slightly downhill and

the sledges moved along of their own accord, accelerated by jerks

from the dogs, gliding at right angles to the knife-edge crests of the

snow-waves.

The roughness of the surface was not without its effect on the

sledge-meter, which had to be repaired temporarily. It was a matter of

some inconvenience that after this date its records were erroneous

and approximate distances were only obtained by checking the readings

against absolute observations made for latitude and longitude.

At 5.30 P.M. a dark object stood in salient relief above the white

contour of the snowy sky-line on the right. Suppressing our excitement,

we pressed on eagerly, changing course so as to approach it. At nine

o'clock it resolved itself into the summit of an imposing mountain

rising up from a mysterious valley. Aurora Peak, as it was named, was to

be a prominent landmark for several days to come.

All were ready to be on the move at 8.45 A.M. on November 19. While

Mertz and Ninnis built a cairn of snow, I wrote a note to be left on it

in a tin, containing instructions to Stillwell in case he should happen

on the locality.

The weather was good and the temperatures were high, ranging at this

time (one month from midsummer) between zero and 18 degrees F. When

we camped for lunch the air was quite calm and the sun's rays were

extremely warm.

The surface became softer and smoother as the afternoon lengthened until

Mertz was tempted to put on his skis. He then became forerunner for the

remainder of the day.

Mertz, who was skilled in the use of skis, found them of great service

on this and on many future occasions. At such times he would relieve

Ninnis and myself in the van. On the other hand, over deeply furrowed

sastrugi or blue ice, or during a strong wind, unless it were at our

backs, skiing was impossible.

Owing to a steeper down grade, the sledges were now commencing to

run more freely and improvised brakes were tried, all of which were

ineffectual in restraining the dogs. The pace became so hot that a small

obstacle would capsize the sledge, causing it to roll over and over down

the slope. The dogs, frantically pulling in various directions to keep

ahead of the load, became hopelessly entangled in their traces and were

dragged along unresistingly until the sledge stopped of its own accord

or was arrested by one of us. At length, most of the dogs were allowed

to run loose, and, with a man holding on behind and a couple of dogs

pulling ahead, the loads were piloted down a steep slope for several

miles.

The evening camp was situated at the crest of the last but steepest fall

into a wide glacial valley which was clearly seen to sweep northwards

past the eastern side of Aurora Peak. Looking back we could define our

track winding down in the bed of a long shallow valley, while, uprising

on either hand near the rim of the plateau were crevassed bluffs where

the ice of the tableland streamed abruptly over the underlying crags.

Ninnis had a touch of snow-blindness which rapidly improved under

treatment. The stock cure for this very irritating and painful affection

is to place first of all tiny "tabloids" of zinc sulphate and cocaine

hydrochloride under the eyelids where they quickly dissolve in the

tears, alleviating the smarting, "gritty" sensation which is usually

described by the sufferer. He then bandages the eyes and escapes, if he

is lucky, into the darkness of his sleeping-bag.

In certain lights one is sure to be attacked more or less severely, and

coloured glasses should be worn continually. Unfortunately, goggles

are sometimes impracticable on account of the moisture from the breath

covering the glasses with an icy film or driving snow clogging them

and obscuring the view. For such contingencies narrow slots of various

shapes are cut in plates or discs of wood or bone in the Esquimaux

fashion. The amount of light reaching the eye can thus be reduced to the

limit of moderately clear vision.

The morning of the 20th broke with wind and drift which persisted until

after noon. Already everything had been packed up, but, as there was a

steep fall in front and crevasses were not far distant, we decided not

to start until the air was clear of snow.

When at last a move was possible, it became evident that the dogs could

not be trusted to pull the sledges down to the edge of the glacier. So

they were tethered to ice-axes while we lowered the sledges one by

one, all three checking their speed, assisted by rope brakes round the

runners. Finally, the impatient dogs were brought down and harnessed in

their accustomed places.

Rapid travelling now commenced over a perfectly smooth surface, sloping

gently to the bed of the glacier. Mertz shot ahead on skis, and our

column of dogs and sledges followed quickly in his trail.

From this day forward our "order of procession" was as follows:--Behind

the forerunner came a team of dogs dragging two sledges joined together

by a short length of alpine rope. Bringing up the rear were the rest of

the dogs dragging the third sledge. Each team pulled approximately equal

weights; the front load being divided between two sledges. Except when

taking my turn ahead, I looked after the leading team, Ninnis or Mertz,

as the case might be, driving the one behind.

We skirted Aurora Peak on its south-eastern side. The mountain rose to

a height of about seventeen hundred feet on our left, its steep sides

being almost completely snow-clad.

The wide depression of the Mertz Glacier lay ahead, and on its far side

the dim outline of uprising icy slopes was visible, though at the time

we could not be certain as to their precise nature.

As the sledges passed Aurora Peak, Blizzard and Ginger Bitch ran

alongside. The former had hurt one of her forefeet on the previous day

during the "rough-and-tumble" descending into the valley. Ginger Bitch

was allowed to go free because she was daily expected to give birth to

pups. As she was such a good sledge-dog we could not have afforded

to leave her behind at the Hut, and later events proved that the work

seemed actually to benefit her, for she was at all times the best puller

and the strongest of the pack. However, in permitting both dogs to run

loose that afternoon, there was an element of danger which we had not

sufficiently appreciated.

Suddenly, without any warning, half of my dogs dropped out of sight,

swinging on their harness ropes in a crevasse. Next moment I realized

that the sledges were in the centre of a bridge covering a crevasse,

twenty-five feet wide, along the edge of which part of the team had

broken through.

We spent many anxious moments before they were all hauled to the

daylight and the sledge rested on solid ground. There were other

crevasses about and almost immediately afterwards Ginger Bitch and

Blizzard had broken through into a fissure and were frantically

struggling to maintain their hold on the edge. They were speedily

rescued; following which Ginger Bitch gave birth to the first of a large

litter of pups. After this second accident we decided to camp.

During the morning of November 21 there was a good deal of wind

and drift which made travelling rather miserable. Occasionally open

crevasses would break the surface of the snow.

When the light at last improved, a nunatak was observed some fifteen

miles or more to the south rising out of the glacier--Correll Nunatak.

Ahead of us was a glittering line of broken ice, stretching at right

angles to our path. Studded about on the icy plain were immense

cauldrons, like small craters in appearance. Then an area dotted over

with ice mounds approached and crevasses became correspondingly more

numerous. The dogs frequently broke through them but were easily

extricated in every instance.

Camp was pitched for lunch in the vicinity of many gaping holes leading

down into darkness, places where the bridges over large crevasses had

fallen in. Mertz prepared the lunch and Ninnis and I went to photograph

an open crevasse near by. Returning, we diverged on reaching the back

of the tent, he passing round on one side and I on the other. The next

instant I heard a bang on the ice and, swinging round, could see nothing

of my companion but his head and arms. He had broken through the lid

of a crevasse fifteen feet wide and was hanging on to its edge close

to where the camera lay damaged on the ice. He was soon dragged into

safety. Looking down into the black depths we realized how narrowly

he had escaped. As the tent was found to encroach partly on the same

crevasse, it may be imagined that we did not dally long over the meal.

In the afternoon the weather became clear and fine, but, as if to offset

this, the broken surface became impassable. The region was one of serac

where the glacier was puckered up, folded and crushed. After several

repulses in what seemed to be promising directions, we were finally

forced to camp, having ten miles to our credit.

Whilst Mertz fed the dogs and prepared hoosh, Ninnis and I roped up and

went off to search for a passage.

All around, the glacier was pressed up into great folds, two hundred

feet in height and between one quarter and a third of a mile from crest

to crest. The ridges of the folds were either domes or open rifts

partly choked with snow. Precipitous ice-falls and deep cauldrons were

encountered everywhere. To the north the glacier flattened out; to the

south it was more rugged.

In this chaos we wandered for some miles until a favourable line of

advance had been discovered for the march on the following day.

The first three miles, on the 22nd, were over a piece of very dangerous

country, after which our prospects improved and we came to the border of

a level plain.

There Mertz slipped on his skis, went ahead and set a good pace.

Although the sky had become overcast and snow fell fitfully, our

progress was rapid towards the rising slopes of the land on the eastern

side of the glacier. Over the last three miles of the day's journey the

surface was raised in large, pimply masses surrounded by wide fissures.

Into one of the fissures, bridged by snow, Ninnis's sledge fell, but

fortunately jammed itself just below the surface. As it was, we had

a long job getting it up again, having to unpack the sledge in the

crevasse until it was light enough to be easily manipulated. Despite the

delay, our day's run was sixteen and a half miles.

At 8 A.M. on the 23rd everything was in readiness for a fresh start.

Moderate drift and wind descended from the hills and there were yet

three miles of hidden perils to be passed. With the object of making our

advance less dangerous, various devices were employed.

First of all the towing rope of the rear sledge was secured to the back

of the preceding sledge. This arrangement had to be abandoned because

the dogs of Ninnis's team persisted in entangling themselves and working

independently of the dogs in front. Next, all the sledges were joined

together with all the dogs pulling in front. The procession was then so

long that it was quite unmanageable on account of the tortuous nature

of our track through the labyrinth. In the long run, it was decided that

our original method was the best, provided that special precautions were

taken over the more hazardous crossings.

The usual procedure was, that the forerunner selected the best crossing

of a crevasse, testing it with a ski-stick. The dog teams were then

brought up to the spot and the forerunner went over the snow-bridge and

stood on the other side, sufficiently far away to allow the first team

to cross to him and to clear the crevasse. Then the second team was

piloted to safety before the forerunner had resumed his position in

front. This precaution was very necessary, for otherwise the dogs in the

rear would make a course direct for wherever the front dogs happened

to be, cutting across corners and most probably dragging their sledge

sideways into a crevasse; the likeliest way to lose it altogether.

Often enough the dogs broke through the snow-bridges on the morning

of the 23rd, but only once were matters serious, when Ninnis's sledge,

doubtless on account of its extra weight, again broke through a lid of

snow and was securely jammed in a crevasse just below the surface.

On this occasion we were in a serious predicament, for the sledge was

in such a position that an unskilful movement would have sent it hurling

into the chasm below. So the unpacking of the load was a tedious and

delicate operation. The freight consisted chiefly of large, soldered

tins, packed tightly with dried seal meat. Each of these weighed about

ninety pounds and all were most securely roped to the sledge. The sledge

was got up and reloaded without the loss of a single tin, and once more

we breathed freely.

A valley almost free of crevasses was chosen as the upward track to the

plateau. We threw in our weight hauling with the dogs, and had a long,

steep drag over furrowed neve, pitching the tent after a day's journey

of twelve miles.

On waking up on November 24 I found that my watch had stopped. I had

been so tired on the previous evening that I had fallen asleep without

remembering to wind it. The penalty of this accident was paid in my

being forced to take an extra set of observations in order to start the

watch again at correct time relative to the Hut.

Besides the observations for position, necessary for navigation, sets of

angles were taken from time to time to fix the positions of objects

of interest appearing within the field of view, while the magnetic

variation was obtained at intervals. In this work Ninnis always

assisted me. Mertz boiled the hypsometer when necessary to ascertain our

elevation above sea-level. The meteorological conditions were carefully

noted several times each day for future comparison with those of other

parties and of Winter Quarters.

The day's work on November 24 brought us high up on the slopes. Away to

the north-west Aurora Peak was still visible, standing up like a mighty

beacon pointing the way back to the Hut. Below lay the Mertz Glacier

extending out to sea as a floating tongue beyond the horizon. Inland,

some twenty miles to the south, it mounted up in seamed and riven

"cataracts" to a smooth, broad and shallow groove which wound into the

ice-cap. Ahead, on our south-east course, the ground still rose, but

to the north-east the ice-sheet fell away in long wide valleys, at the

extremity of some of which icebergs were visible frozen into distant

sea-ice.

The tent was raised at 10 P.M. in a forty-mile wind with light drift;

temperature 10 degrees F. The altitude of this camp was two thousand

three hundred and fifty feet.

One of the worst features of drift overnight is that sledges and dogs

become buried in snow and have to be dug out in the morning. Thus on

the 25th it was 10 A.M. before we got away in a strong wind, with flying

snow, across fields of sastrugi.

The dogs detested the wind and, as their heads were so near the

ground, they must have found the incessant stream of thick drift very

tantalizing. The snow became caked over their eyes so that every few

minutes they had to scrape it away with their paws or rub their faces on

the ground.

We stopped at 6 P.M. after a miserable day, covering sixteen miles in

all.

November 26 broke overcast, the light being bad for travelling and the

wind still strong. Nevertheless we set out at 10 A.M. through falling

snow.

As the day progressed the wind subsided and Mertz was able to put on his

skis over a surface which sloped gradually away to the east. The light

was diffused uniformly over the irregularities of snow and ice so that

depressions only a few feet away were invisible. Black objects, on the

other hand, stood out with startling distinctness, and our attention was

soon arrested by a hazy, dark patch which appeared in front and to the

left. At first there was much doubt as to its nature, but it was

soon clear that it must be a group of rocks, apparently situated at a

considerable distance. They were subsequently found to be sixty miles

away (Organ Pipe Cliffs, near Cape Blake).

Presently our course ended abruptly at the edge of a precipitous fall.

We skirted round this for a while, but were ultimately forced to camp

owing to the uncertainty of the light and the proximity of several large

crevasses.

At 11 P.M. the sky cleared and a better idea could be gained of what

lay ahead. In a line between our elevated position and the distant rocky

outcrops the ice fell in a steep descent to a broad, glacial valley,

undulating and in places traversed by torn masses of serac-ice. We

examined the country to the east very carefully with a view to selecting

a track for the journey next day and finally resolved to pass to the

south of a large ice-capped island--Dixson Island, which was only about

ten miles to the north-east, set within Ninnis Glacier near its western

border

On the 27th Mertz and I roped up, reconnoitred for a while and returned

to the sledges. We then spent several hours in advancing a mile over

badly broken ground, arriving at a slope covered with sastrugi and

descending steeply for one thousand feet into the bed of the glacier.

In order the more safely to negotiate this, the dogs were all let

loose excepting two in each sledge. Even then the sledges were often

uncontrollable, rolling over and over many times before the bottom was

reached.

When the dogs were re-harnessed it was found that Betli was missing

and was not to be seen when we scanned the slopes in our rear with

binoculars. It was expected that unless she had fallen into a crevasse

she would turn up at the camp that night. However, she did not reappear,

and we saw no more of her. Two other dogs, Jappy and Fusilier, had been

previously killed, as neither was of any use as a puller. Blizzard, who

had been always a great favourite with us, had to be shot next day.

When it had reached the edge of the glacier, our path led over a solid

ocean rising and faring in billows, two hundred and fifty feet in

height; no doubt caused by the glacier in its northward movement being

compressed against the southern side of Dixson Island. Still, the

"caravan" made considerable progress, ending with a day's journey of

sixteen miles.

During the small hours of November 28 the wind rose to a velocity of

sixty miles per hour, but gradually diminished to a twenty-knot breeze

as the day advanced. Light snow fell from a sky which was densely

clouded.

We still pursued a devious track amid rolling waves of ice, encountering

beds of soft snow through which the sledges moved slowly. By 6 P.M.

pinnacles and hummocks stood around on every side, and the light was

such that one could not distinguish crevasses until he was on top of

them. We had to camp and be satisfied with seven miles "to the good." By

this time the dogs were in good training and grew noticeably ravenous.

In the evening, before they were properly tethered, Shackleton seized

a one-week provision bag, ripped it open and ate a block of butter

weighing more than two and a half pounds. This was a loss to us, as

butter was regarded as a particular delicacy.

The sun was shining brightly next day and it was at once evident that we

were in a zone of tumbled and disrupted ice.

For many hours a way was won through a mighty turmoil of serac and over

innumerable crevasses with varied fortune. Just before lunch my two

sledges were nearly lost through the dogs swinging sharply to one side

before the second sledge had cleared a rather rotten snow-bridge. I was

up with the dogs at the time, and the first intimation I received of

an accident was on seeing the dogs and front sledge being dragged

backwards; the rear sledge was hanging vertically in a crevasse.

Exerting all my strength I held back the front sledge, and in a few

moments was joined by Ninnis and Mertz, who soon drove a pick and

ice-axe down between the runners and ran out an anchoring rope.

It was a ticklish business recovering the sledge which hung suspended in

the crevasse. It could not be lifted vertically as its bow was caught in

a V-shaped cornice formed by an overhanging mass of snow. To add to our

troubles the ground all about the place was precarious and unsafe.

Mertz and Ninnis therefore lowered me down and I attached a rope to the

tail-end of the sledge. The bow-rope and tail-rope were then manipulated

alternately until the bow of the sledge was manoeuvred slowly through

the gaping hole in the snow-lid and was finally hauled up on to level

ground. No more remarkable test of the efficiency of the sledge straps

and the compactness of the load could have been made.

After lunch Mertz ascended a high point and was able to trace out a

route which conducted us in a few hours to a better surface.

We were now at an elevation of from four hundred to five hundred feet

above sea-level, running across a beam-wind on our right which increased

during the afternoon. A rising blizzard made it necessary to camp after

a day's run of ten and one-third miles.

The wind blew up to seventy miles an hour during the night, but eased in

strength early on November 30. At 10 A.M. we tried to make a start, but

the dogs refused to face the drift. On the wind becoming gusty in the

afternoon, it was once more possible to travel, and we set out.

Dense drift was still to be seen pouring over the highlands to the

south-east. Above the glacier ahead whirlies, out-lined in high

revolving columns of snow, "stalked about" in their wayward courses.

The sledges ran through a sea of crevassed, blue ice, over ridges and

past open chasms. Seven miles brought us to the "foot-hills" on the

eastern border of the Ninnis Glacier, where we pitched camp.

The first day of December was still and hot, with brilliant sunshine.

The shade temperature reached 34 degrees F. and the snow became so

sticky that it was as much as we and the dogs could do to move the

sledges up the slopes. As the evening lengthened and the sun sank

lower the surface froze hard and our toil was lightened. At midnight we

reached an altitude of nine hundred feet.

December 2 was another warm, bright day. The surface was atrociously

bad; hard, sharp sastrugi, never less than two feet high and in many

instances three feet six inches from crest to trough. The dogs were not

able to exert a united pull for there were never more than half of them

in action at a time.

Once more we were at a comparatively high altitude and a fine view

presented itself to the north. One could look back to the mainland

slopes descending on the western side of the Ninnis Glacier. Then the

glacier, tumultuous and broken, was seen to extend far out into the

frozen sea and, sweeping round to the north-east, the eye ranged over

a great expanse of floe-ice dotted with bergs. To the east there was

a precipitous coastline of dark rock which for a while we thought of

visiting. But then it seemed likely that Madigan's party would reach

as far east, so we set our faces once more to the rising plateau in the

south-east.

At midnight the sun was peering over the southern sky-line, and we

halted at an elevation of one thousand five hundred and fifty feet,

having covered eight and a half miles in the day. The temperature was 5

degrees F.

"December 3.--We were not long on the way before the sky became overcast

and light snow fell. The surface was becoming flatter. Camp was pitched

at 11 P.M. after eleven and two-thirds miles.

"December 4.--Another day of bad light but the surface improved and good

headway was made on an easterly course at an elevation of between

two thousand and two thousand eight hundred feet. The crevasses were

practically past. The day's march was fifteen miles.

"December 5.--A bad day; overcast, snowing and a gale of wind from the

east-south-east. However, we plugged on blindly into it until 7.30 P.M.

and then camped, having done eleven and a half miles.

"December 6, 7 and 8.--During these days a dense blizzard raged, the

wind reaching seventy miles per hour. There was nothing to do but lie

in our bags and think out plans for the future. Each morning Ninnis and

Mertz took it in turns to go out and feed their charges, who were snugly

buried in the deep snow.

"One day in the sleeping-bag does not come amiss after long marches,

but three days on end is enough to bore any one thoroughly.

"Ninnis was not so badly off with a volume of Thackeray, but Mertz

had come to the end of a small edition of 'Sherlock Holmes' when

blizzard-bound near Aladdin's Cave, and his only diversion on these days

was to recite passages from memory for our mutual benefit."

I was troubled with an inflammation in the face just at this time, while

Ninnis suffered pain owing to a "whitlow" on one of his fingers.

As usual the food ration was reduced. This caused us to have more than

ordinarily vivid dreams. I happened to be awake one night when Ninnis

was sledging in imagination, vociferously shouting, "Hike, hike," to the

dogs; our equivalent of the usual "Mush, mush."

Despite considerable wind and drift we got away at 8 A.M. on December

9. The sky was overcast and there was nothing to be seen except a soft

carpet of newly fallen snow into which we sank half-way to the knees.

The sledges ran deeply and heavily so that the dogs had to be assisted.

Ahead Mertz glided along triumphant, for it was on such occasions that

skis were of the greatest assistance to him.

During the day a snow petrel circled above us for a while and then

returned to the north.

The course was due east at an elevation of two thousand three hundred

feet and the total distance we threw behind during the day was sixteen

and a half miles.

On the 10th light wind and low drift were the order of things. Our

spirits rose when the sky cleared and a slight down grade commenced.

During the morning Ninnis drew our attention to what appeared to be

small ice-capped islets fringing the coast, but the distance was too

great for us to be sure of their exact nature. Out near the verge of the

horizon a tract of frozen sea with scattered bergs could be seen.

Next day more features were distinguishable. The coast was seen to run

in a north-easterly direction as a long peninsula ending in a sharp

cape--Cape Freshfield. The north appeared to be filled with frozen sea

though we could not be certain that it was not dense pack-ice. Little

did we know that Madigan's party, about a week later, would be marching

over the frozen sea towards Cape Freshfield in the north-east.

At 10 P.M. on the 11th, at an altitude of one thousand eight hundred

feet, the highland we were traversing fell away rapidly and sea-ice

opened up directly in front of us. The coastal downfalls to the

south-east fell in rugged masses to a vertical barrier, off the seaward

face of which large, tabular bergs were grouped within environing floe.

Throughout December 12 a somewhat irregular course was made to the

south-east and south to avoid the broken area ahead. We had had enough

of crevasses and wished to be clear of serac-ice in the future.

For some days Ninnis had been enduring the throbbing pain of a whitlow

and had not been having sufficient sleep. He always did his share of the

work and had undoubtedly borne a great deal of pain without showing it.

On several nights I noticed that he sat up in his sleeping-bag for hours

puffing away at a pipe or reading. At last the pain became so acute

that he asked me to lance his finger. This was successfully accomplished

after breakfast on the 13th and during the day he had much relief.

While Ninnis rested before we made a start, Mertz and I re-arranged the

sledges and their loads. A third sledge was no longer necessary, so the

one usually driven by Ninnis, which had been damaged, was discarded and

all the gear was divided between the other two sledges in nearly equal

amounts. When the work was completed, the rear sledge carried an extra

weight of fifty pounds. As, however, both food for men and dogs were to

come from it, we reckoned that this superadded load would soon diminish.

On we went, during the afternoon, up a steep ascent. Crevasses were

so numerous that we took measures to vent them. Some were as much as a

hundred feet in width, filled with snow; others were great open holes

or like huge cauldrons. Close to the windward edge of some of the latter

high ramps of neve with bluff faces on the windward side stood up like

monoliths reaching twenty-five feet in maximum height.

In the evening a field of neve was reached and we felt more placid after

the anxiety of the preceding hours.

During the passage of a snow-filled valley a dull, booming sound like

the noise of far-distant cannon was heard. It was evidently connected

with the subsidence of large areas of the surface crust. Apparently

large cavities had formed beneath the snow and the weight of ourselves

and the sledges caused the crust to sink and the air to be expelled.

The sun appeared late in the day and, as it was almost calm, the last

few hours of marching were very pleasant. At midnight we camped at an

altitude of one thousand nine hundred feet.

A light east-south-east wind was blowing as the sledges started away

eastward on the morning of December 14. The weather was sunny and the

temperature registered 21 degrees F.

Mertz and I were happy to know that Ninnis had slept well and was

feeling much better.

Our march was interrupted at noon by a latitude observation, after which

Mertz went ahead on skis singing his student songs. The dogs rose to the

occasion and pulled eagerly and well. Everything was for once in harmony

and the time was at hand when we should turn our faces homewards.

Mertz was well in advance of us when I noticed him hold up his ski-stick

and then go on. This was a signal for something unusual so, as I

approached the vicinity, I looked out for crevasses or some other

explanation of his action. As a matter of fact crevasses were not

expected, since we were on a smooth surface of neve well to the

southward of the broken coastal slopes. On reaching the spot where Mertz

had signalled and seeing no sign of any irregularity, I jumped on to

the sledge, got out the book of tables and commenced to figure out the

latitude observation taken on that day. Glancing at the ground a moment

after, I noticed the faint indication of a crevasse. It was but one of

many hundred similar ones we had crossed and had no specially dangerous

appearance, but still I turned quickly round, called out a warning word

to Ninnis and then dismissed it from my thoughts.

Ninnis, who was walking along by the side of his sledge, close behind

my own, heard the warning, for in my backward glance I noticed that he

immediately swung the leading dogs so as to cross the crevasse squarely

instead of diagonally as I had done. I then went on with my work.

There was no sound from behind except a faint, plaintive whine from one

of the dogs which I imagined was in reply to a touch from Ninnis's whip.

I remember addressing myself to George, the laziest dog in my own team,

saying, "You will be getting a little of that, too, George, if you are

not careful."

When I next looked back, it was in response to the anxious gaze of Mertz

who had turned round and halted in his tracks. Behind me, nothing met

the eye but my own sledge tracks running back in the distance. Where

were Ninnis and his sledge?

I hastened back along the trail thinking that a rise in the ground

obscured the view. There was no such good fortune, however, for I came

to a gaping hole in the surface about eleven feet wide. The lid of a

crevasse had broken in; two sledge tracks led up to it on the far side

but only one continued on the other side.

Frantically waving to Mertz to bring up my sledge, upon which there was

some alpine rope, I leaned over and shouted into the dark depths below.

No sound came back but the moaning of a dog, caught on a shelf just

visible one hundred and fifty feet below. The poor creature appeared

to have broken its back, for it was attempting to sit up with the front

part of its body while the hinder portion lay limp. Another dog lay

motionless by its side. Close by was what appeared in the gloom to be

the remains of the tent and a canvas tank containing food for three men

for a fortnight.

We broke back the edge of the neve lid and took turns leaning over

secured by a rope, calling into the darkness in the hope that our

companion might be still alive. For three hours we called unceasingly

but no answering sound came back. The dog had ceased to moan and lay

without a movement. A chill draught was blowing out of the abyss. We

felt that there was little hope.

Why had the first sledge escaped the crevasse? It seemed that I had

been fortunate, because my sledge had crossed diagonally, with a greater

chance of breaking the snow-lid. The sledges were within thirty pounds

of the same weight. The explanation appeared to be that Ninnis had

walked by the side of his sledge, whereas I had crossed it sitting on

the sledge. The whole weight of a man's body bearing on his foot is a

formidable load and no doubt was sufficient to smash the arch of the

roof.

By means of a fishing line we ascertained that it was one hundred and

fifty feet sheer to the ledge on which the remains were seen; on either

side the crevasse descended into blackness. It seemed so very far down

there and the dogs looked so small that we got out the field glasses,

but could make out nothing more by their aid.

All our available rope was tied together but the total length was

insufficient to reach the ledge and any idea of going below to

investigate and to secure some of the food had to be abandoned.

Stunned by the unexpectedness of it all and having exhausted the few

appliances we carried for such a contingency, we felt helpless. In such

moments action is the only tolerable thing, and if there had been any

expedient however hazardous which might have been tried, we should have

taken all and more than the risk. Stricken dumb with the pity of it and

heavy at heart, we turned our minds mechanically to what lay nearest at

hand.

There were rations on the other sledge, and we found that there was a

bare one and a half weeks' food for ourselves and nothing at all for the

dogs. Part of the provisions consisted of raisins and almonds which had

been taken as extras or "perks," as they were usually called.

Among other losses there were both spade and ice-axe, but fortunately a

spare tent-cover was saved. Mertz's burberry trousers had gone down

with the sledge and the best substitute he could get was a pair of thick

Jaeger woollen under-trousers from the spare clothing we possessed.

Later in the afternoon Mertz and I went ahead to a higher point in order

to obtain a better view of our surroundings. At a point two thousand

four hundred feet above sea-level and three hundred and fifteen and

three-quarter miles eastward from the Hut, a complete observation for

position and magnetic azimuth was taken.

The coastal slopes were fearfully broken and scaured in their descent to

the sea, which was frozen out to the horizon. No islands were observed

or anything which could correspond with the land marked by Wilkes as

existing so much farther to the north. Patches of "water sky" were

visible in two places in the far distance. As we stood looking north

a Wilson petrel suddenly appeared and after flitting about for a short

time departed.

We returned to the crevasse and packed the remaining sledge, discarding

everything unnecessary so as to reduce the weight of the load. A thin

soup was made by boiling up all the old food-bags which could be found.

The dogs were given some worn-out fur mitts, finnesko and several spare

raw hide straps, all of which they devoured.

We still continued to call down into the crevasse at regular intervals

in case our companion might not have been killed outright and, in the

meantime, have become conscious. There was no reply.

A weight was lowered on the fishing line as far as the dog which had

earlier shown some signs of life, but there was no response. All were

dead, swallowed up in an instant.

When comrades tramp the road to anywhere through a lonely

blizzard-ridden land in hunger, want and weariness the interests, ties

and fates of each are interwoven in a wondrous fabric of friendship and

affection. The shock of Ninnis's death struck home and deeply stirred

us.

He was a fine fellow and a born soldier--and the end:--

Life--give me life until the end,

That at the very top of being,

The battle spirit shouting in my blood,

Out of very reddest hell of the fight

I may be snatched and flung

Into the everlasting lull,

The Immortal, Incommunicable Dream.

At 9 P.M. we stood by the side of the crevasse and I read the burial

service. Then Mertz shook me by the hand with a short "Thank you!" and

we turned away to harness up the dogs.

CHAPTER XIII TOIL AND TRIBULATION