The Return from the Pole
_Friday, January_ 19.--Lunch 8.1, T. -22.6°. Early in the march we
picked up a Norwegian cairn and our outward tracks. We followed
these to the ominous black flag which had first apprised us of
our predecessors' success. We have picked this flag up, using the
staff for our sail, and are now camped about 1 1/2 miles further
back on our tracks. So that is the last of the Norwegians for the
present. The surface undulates considerably about this latitude;
it was more evident to-day than when we were outward bound.
Night camp R. 2. [37] Height 9700. T. -18.5°, Minimum -25.6°. Came
along well this afternoon for three hours, then a rather dreary finish
for the last 1 1/2. Weather very curious, snow clouds, looking very
dense and spoiling the light, pass overhead from the S., dropping
very minute crystals; between showers the sun shows and the wind goes
to the S.W. The fine crystals absolutely spoil the surface; we had
heavy dragging during the last hour in spite of the light load and a
full sail. Our old tracks are drifted up, deep in places, and toothed
sastrugi have formed over them. It looks as though this sandy snow
was drifted about like sand from place to place. How account for the
present state of our three day old tracks and the month old ones of
the Norwegians?
It is warmer and pleasanter marching with the wind, but I'm not sure
we don't feel the cold more when we stop and camp than we did on the
outward march. We pick up our cairns easily, and ought to do so right
through, I think; but, of course, one will be a bit anxious till the
Three Degree Depot is reached. [38] I'm afraid the return journey is
going to be dreadfully tiring and monotonous.
_Saturday, January 20._--Lunch camp, 9810. We have come along very
well this morning, although the surface was terrible bad--9.3 miles
in 5 hours 20 m. This has brought us to our Southern Depot, and we
pick up 4 days' food. We carry on 7 days from to-night with 55 miles
to go to the Half Degree Depot made on January 10. The same sort of
weather and a little more wind, sail drawing well.
Night Camp R. 3. 9860. Temp. -18°. It was blowing quite hard and
drifting when we started our afternoon march. At first with full sail
we went along at a great rate; then we got on to an extraordinary
surface, the drifting snow lying in heaps; it clung to the ski, which
could only be pushed forward with an effort. The pulling was really
awful, but we went steadily on and camped a short way beyond our cairn
of the 14th. I'm afraid we are in for a bad pull again to-morrow,
luckily the wind holds. I shall be very glad when Bowers gets his
ski; I'm afraid he must find these long marches very trying with
short legs, but he is an undefeated little sportsman. I think Oates
is feeling the cold and fatigue more than most of us. It is blowing
pretty hard to-night, but with a good march we have earned one good
hoosh and are very comfortable in the tent. It is everything now to
keep up a good marching pace; I trust we shall be able to do so and
catch the ship. Total march, 18 1/2 miles.
_Sunday, January_ 21.--R. 4. 10,010. Temp, blizzard, -18° to -11°,
to -14° now. Awoke to a stiff blizzard; air very thick with snow
and sun very dim. We decided not to march owing to likelihood of
losing track; expected at least a day of lay up, but whilst at lunch
there was a sudden clearance and wind dropped to light breeze. We
got ready to march, but gear was so iced up we did not get away till
3.45. Marched till 7.40--a terribly weary four-hour drag; even with
helping wind we only did 5 1/2 miles (6 1/4 statute). The surface bad,
horribly bad on new sastrugi, and decidedly rising again in elevation.
We are going to have a pretty hard time this next 100 miles I
expect. If it was difficult to drag downhill over this belt, it
will probably be a good deal more difficult to drag up. Luckily the
cracks are fairly distinct, though we only see our cairns when less
than a mile away; 45 miles to the next depot and 6 days' food in
hand--then pick up 7 days' food (T. -22°) and 90 miles to go to the
'Three Degree' Depot. Once there we ought to be safe, but we ought
to have a day or two in hand on arrival and may have difficulty with
following the tracks. However, if we can get a rating sight for our
watches to-morrow we shall be independent of the tracks at a pinch.
_Monday, January_ 22.--10,000. Temp. -21°. I think about the most
tiring march we have had; solid pulling the whole way, in spite of
the light sledge and some little helping wind at first. Then in the
last part of the afternoon the sun came out, and almost immediately
we had the whole surface covered with soft snow.
We got away sharp at 8 and marched a solid 9 hours, and thus we have
covered 14.5 miles (geo.) but, by Jove! it has been a grind. We
are just about on the 89th parallel. To-night Bowers got a rating
sight. I'm afraid we have passed out of the wind area. We are within
2 1/2 miles of the 64th camp cairn, 30 miles from our depot, and with
5 days' food in hand. Ski boots are beginning to show signs of wear;
I trust we shall have no giving out of ski or boots, since there are
yet so many miles to go. I thought we were climbing to-day, but the
barometer gives no change.
_Tuesday, January_ 23.--Lowest Minimum last night -30°, Temp, at
start -28°. Lunch height 10,100. Temp, with wind 6 to 7, -19°. Little
wind and heavy marching at start. Then wind increased and we did 8.7
miles by lunch, when it was practically blowing a blizzard. The old
tracks show so remarkably well that we can follow them without much
difficulty--a great piece of luck.
In the afternoon we had to reorganise. Could carry a whole sail. Bowers
hung on to the sledge, Evans and Oates had to lengthen out. We came
along at a great rate and should have got within an easy march of
our depot had not Wilson suddenly discovered that Evans' nose was
frostbitten--it was white and hard. We thought it best to camp at
6.45. Got the tent up with some difficulty, and now pretty cosy after
good hoosh.
There is no doubt Evans is a good deal run down--his fingers are badly
blistered and his nose is rather seriously congested with frequent
frost bites. He is very much annoyed with himself, which is not a good
sign. I think Wilson, Bowers and I are as fit as possible under the
circumstances. Oates gets cold feet. One way and another, I shall be
glad to get off the summit! We are only about 13 miles from our 'Degree
and half' Depôt and should get there to-morrow. The weather seems to
be breaking up. Pray God we have something of a track to follow to
the Three Degree Depôt--once we pick that up we ought to be right.
_Wednesday, January_ 24.--Lunch Temp. -8°. Things beginning to look a
little serious. A strong wind at the start has developed into a full
blizzard at lunch, and we have had to get into our sleeping-bags. It
was a bad march, but we covered 7 miles. At first Evans, and then
Wilson went ahead to scout for tracks. Bowers guided the sledge alone
for the first hour, then both Oates and he remained alongside it;
they had a fearful time trying to make the pace between the soft
patches. At 12.30 the sun coming ahead made it impossible to see
the tracks further, and we had to stop. By this time the gale was
at its height and we had the dickens of a time getting up the tent,
cold fingers all round. We are only 7 miles from our depot, but I
made sure we should be there to-night. This is the second full gale
since we left the Pole. I don't like the look of it. Is the weather
breaking up? If so, God help us, with the tremendous summit journey
and scant food. Wilson and Bowers are my standby. I don't like the
easy way in which Oates and Evans get frostbitten.
_Thursday, January_ 25.--Temp. Lunch -11°, Temp. night -16°. Thank
God we found our Half Degree Depôt. After lying in our bags yesterday
afternoon and all night, we debated breakfast; decided to have it
later and go without lunch. At the time the gale seemed as bad as
ever, but during breakfast the sun showed and there was light enough
to see the old track. It was a long and terribly cold job digging out
our sledge and breaking camp, but we got through and on the march
without sail, all pulling. This was about 11, and at about 2.30,
to our joy, we saw the red depôt flag. We had lunch and left with 9
1/2 days' provisions, still following the track--marched till 8 and
covered over 5 miles, over 12 in the day. Only 89 miles (geogr.) to
the next depot, but it's time we cleared off this plateau. We are
not without ailments: Oates suffers from a very cold foot; Evans'
fingers and nose are in a bad state, and to-night Wilson is suffering
tortures from his eyes. Bowers and I are the only members of the party
without troubles just at present. The weather still looks unsettled,
and I fear a succession of blizzards at this time of year; the wind is
strong from the south, and this afternoon has been very helpful with
the full sail. Needless to say I shall sleep much better with our
provision bag full again. The only real anxiety now is the finding
of the Three Degree Depot. The tracks seem as good as ever so far,
sometimes for 30 or 40 yards we lose them under drifts, but then they
reappear quite clearly raised above the surface. If the light is good
there is not the least difficulty in following. Blizzards are our
bugbear, not only stopping our marches, but the cold damp air takes it
out of us. Bowers got another rating sight to-night--it was wonderful
how he managed to observe in such a horribly cold wind. He has been
on ski to-day whilst Wilson walked by the sledge or pulled ahead of it.
_Friday, January_ 26.--Temp. -17°. Height 9700, must be high
barometer. Started late, 8.50--for no reason, as I called the hands
rather early. We must have fewer delays. There was a good stiff breeze
and plenty of drift, but the tracks held. To our old blizzard camp
of the 7th we got on well, 7 miles. But beyond the camp we found the
tracks completely wiped out. We searched for some time, then marched
on a short way and lunched, the weather gradually clearing, though the
wind holding. Knowing there were two cairns at four mile intervals,
we had little anxiety till we picked up the first far on our right,
then steering right by a stroke of fortune, and Bowers' sharp eyes
caught a glimpse of the second far on the left. Evidently we made a bad
course outward at this part. There is not a sign of our tracks between
these cairns, but the last, marking our night camp of the 6th, No. 59,
is in the belt of hard sastrugi, and I was comforted to see signs of
the track reappearing as we camped. I hope to goodness we can follow it
to-morrow. We marched 16 miles (geo.) to-day, but made good only 15.4.
Saturday, January 27.--R. 10. Temp. -16° (lunch), -14.3°
(evening). Minimum -19°. Height 9900. Barometer low? Called the hands
half an hour late, but we got away in good time. The forenoon march
was over the belt of storm-tossed sastrugi; it looked like a rough
sea. Wilson and I pulled in front on ski, the remainder on foot. It
was very tricky work following the track, which pretty constantly
disappeared, and in fact only showed itself by faint signs anywhere--a
foot or two of raised sledge-track, a dozen yards of the trail of
the sledge-meter wheel, or a spatter of hard snow-flicks where feet
had trodden. Sometimes none of these were distinct, but one got an
impression of lines which guided. The trouble was that on the outward
track one had to shape course constantly to avoid the heaviest mounds,
and consequently there were many zig-zags. We lost a good deal over a
mile by these halts, in which we unharnessed and went on the search
for signs. However, by hook or crook, we managed to stick on the
old track. Came on the cairn quite suddenly, marched past it, and
camped for lunch at 7 miles. In the afternoon the sastrugi gradually
diminished in size and now we are on fairly level ground to-day, the
obstruction practically at an end, and, to our joy, the tracks showing
up much plainer again. For the last two hours we had no difficulty at
all in following them. There has been a nice helpful southerly breeze
all day, a clear sky and comparatively warm temperature. The air is
dry again, so that tents and equipment are gradually losing their
icy condition imposed by the blizzard conditions of the past week.
Our sleeping-bags are slowly but surely getting wetter and I'm afraid
it will take a lot of this weather to put them right. However, we
all sleep well enough in them, the hours allowed being now on the
short side. We are slowly getting more hungry, and it would be an
advantage to have a little more food, especially for lunch. If we get
to the next depôt in a few marches (it is now less than 60 miles and
we have a full week's food) we ought to be able to open out a little,
but we can't look for a real feed till we get to the pony food depot. A
long way to go, and, by Jove, this is tremendous labour.
_Sunday, January_ 28.--Lunch, -20°. Height, night,
10,130. R. 11. Supper Temp. -18°. Little wind and heavy going in
forenoon. We just ran out 8 miles in 5 hours and added another 8
in 3 hours 40 mins. in the afternoon with a good wind and better
surface. It is very difficult to say if we are going up or down hill;
the barometer is quite different from outward readings. We are 43
miles from the depot, with six days' food in hand. We are camped
opposite our lunch cairn of the 4th, only half a day's march from
the point at which the last supporting party left us.
Three articles were dropped on our outward march--(Oates' pipe, Bowers'
fur mits, and Evans' night boots. We picked up the boots and mits on
the track, and to-night we found the pipe lying placidly in sight on
the snow. The sledge tracks were very easy to follow to-day; they
are becoming more and more raised, giving a good line shadow often
visible half a mile ahead. If this goes on and the weather holds we
shall get our depôt without trouble. I shall indeed be glad to get it
on the sledge. We are getting more hungry, there is no doubt. The lunch
meal is beginning to seem inadequate. We are pretty thin, especially
Evans, but none of us are feeling worked out. I doubt if we could
drag heavy loads, but we can keep going well with our light one. We
talk of food a good deal more, and shall be glad to open out on it.
_Monday, January_ 29.--R. 12. Lunch Temp. -23°. Supper
Temp. -25°. Height 10,000. Excellent march of 19 1/2 miles, 10.5
before lunch. Wind helping greatly, considerable drift; tracks for the
most part very plain. Some time before lunch we picked up the return
track of the supporting party, so that there are now three distinct
sledge impressions. We are only 24 miles from our depôt--an easy day
and a half. Given a fine day to-morrow we ought to get it without
difficulty. The wind and sastrugi are S.S.E. and S.E. If the weather
holds we ought to do the rest of the inland ice journey in little over
a week. The surface is very much altered since we passed out. The loose
snow has been swept into heaps, hard and wind-tossed. The rest has
a glazed appearance, the loose drifting snow no doubt acting on it,
polishing it like a sand blast. The sledge with our good wind behind
runs splendidly on it; it is all soft and sandy beneath the glaze. We
are certainly getting hungrier every day. The day after to-morrow we
should be able to increase allowances. It is monotonous work, but,
thank God, the miles are coming fast at last. We ought not to be
delayed much now with the down-grade in front of us.
_Tuesday, January_ 30.--R. 13. 9860. Lunch Temp.-25°, Supper
Temp. -24.5°. Thank the Lord, another fine march--19 miles. We have
passed the last cairn before the depôt, the track is clear ahead,
the weather fair, the wind helpful, the gradient down--with any luck
we should pick up our depôt in the middle of the morning march. This
is the bright side; the reverse of the medal is serious. Wilson
has strained a tendon in his leg; it has given pain all day and is
swollen to-night. Of course, he is full of pluck over it, but I don't
like the idea of such an accident here. To add to the trouble Evans
has dislodged two finger-nails to-night; his hands are really bad,
and to my surprise he shows signs of losing heart over it. He hasn't
been cheerful since the accident. The wind shifted from S.E. to S. and
back again all day, but luckily it keeps strong. We can get along with
bad fingers, but it (will be) a mighty serious thing if Wilson's leg
doesn't improve.
_Wednesday, January_ 31.--9800. Lunch Temp. -20°, Supper
Temp. -20°. The day opened fine with a fair breeze; we marched on the
depôt, [39] picked it up, and lunched an hour later. In the afternoon
the surface became fearfully bad, the wind dropped to light southerly
air. Ill luck that this should happen just when we have only four men
to pull. Wilson rested his leg as much as possible by walking quietly
beside the sledge; the result has been good, and to-night there
is much less inflammation. I hope he will be all right again soon,
but it is trying to have an injured limb in the party. I see we had a
very heavy surface here on our outward march. There is no doubt we are
travelling over undulations, but the inequality of level does not make
a great difference to our pace; it is the sandy crystals that hold us
up. There has been very great alteration of the surface since we were
last here--the sledge tracks stand high. This afternoon we picked up
Bowers' ski [40]--the last thing we have to find on the summit, thank
Heaven! Now we have only to go north and so shall welcome strong winds.
_Thursday, February_ 1.--R. 15. 9778. Lunch Temp. -20°, Supper
Temp. -19.8°. Heavy collar work most of the day. Wind light. Did 8
miles, 4 3/4 hours. Started well in the afternoon and came down a
steep slope in quick time; then the surface turned real bad--sandy
drifts--very heavy pulling. Working on past 8 P.M. we just fetched
a lunch cairn of December 29, when we were only a week out from the
depôt. [41] It ought to be easy to get in with a margin, having 8 days'
food in hand (full feeding). We have opened out on the 1/7th increase
and it makes a lot of difference. Wilson's leg much better. Evans'
fingers now very bad, two nails coming off, blisters burst.
_Friday, February_ 2.--9340. R. 16. Temp.: Lunch -19°, Supper -17°. We
started well on a strong southerly wind. Soon got to a steep grade,
when the sledge overran and upset us one after another. We got
off our ski, and pulling on foot reeled off 9 miles by lunch at
1.30. Started in the afternoon on foot, going very strong. We noticed
a curious circumstance towards the end of the forenoon. The tracks
were drifted over, but the drifts formed a sort of causeway along
which we pulled. In the afternoon we soon came to a steep slope--the
same on which we exchanged sledges on December 28. All went well
till, in trying to keep the track at the same time as my feet, on a
very slippery surface, I came an awful 'purler' on my shoulder. It is
horribly sore to-night and another sick person added to our tent--three
out of fine injured, and the most troublesome surfaces to come. We
shall be lucky if we get through without serious injury. Wilson's
leg is better, but might easily get bad again, and Evans' fingers.
At the bottom of the slope this afternoon we came on a confused sea
of sastrugi. We lost the track. Later, on soft snow, we picked up
E. Evans' return track, which we are now following. We have managed
to get off 17 miles. The extra food is certainly helping us, but we
are getting pretty hungry. The weather is already a trifle warmer and
the altitude lower, and only 80 miles or so to Mount Darwin. It is
time we were off the summit--Pray God another four days will see us
pretty well clear of it. Our bags are getting very wet and we ought
to have more sleep.
_Saturday, February_ 3.--R. 17. Temp.: Lunch -20°; Supper -20°. Height
9040 feet. Started pretty well on foot; came to steep slope with
crevasses (few). I went on ski to avoid another fall, and we took the
slope gently with our sail, constantly losing the track, but picked
up a much weathered cairn on our right. Vexatious delays, searching
for tracks, &c., reduced morning march to 8.1 miles. Afternoon, came
along a little better, but again lost tracks on hard slope. To-night
we are near camp of December 26, but cannot see cairn. Have decided
it is waste of time looking for tracks and cairn, and shall push on
due north as fast as we can.
The surface is greatly changed since we passed outward, in most
places polished smooth, but with heaps of new toothed sastrugi which
are disagreeable obstacles. Evans' fingers are going on as well as
can be expected, but it will be long before he will be able to help
properly with the work. Wilson's leg much better, and my shoulder also,
though it gives bad twinges. The extra food is doing us all good, but
we ought to have more sleep. Very few more days on the plateau I hope.
_Sunday, February_ 4.--R. 18. 8620 feet. Temp.: Lunch -22°; Supper
-23°. Pulled on foot in the morning over good hard surface and
covered 9.7 miles. Just before lunch unexpectedly fell into crevasses,
Evans and I together--a second fall for Evans, and I camped. After
lunch saw disturbance ahead, and what I took for disturbance (land)
to the right. We went on ski over hard shiny descending surface. Did
very well, especially towards end of march, covering in all 18.1. We
have come down some hundreds of feet. Half way in the march the land
showed up splendidly, and I decided to make straight for Mt. Darwin,
which we are rounding. Every sign points to getting away off this
plateau. The temperature is 20° lower than when we were here before;
the party is not improving in condition, especially Evans, who is
becoming rather dull and incapable. [42] Thank the Lord we have
good food at each meal, but we get hungrier in spite of it. Bowers
is splendid, full of energy and bustle all the time. I hope we are
not going to have trouble with ice-falls.
_Monday, February_ 5.--R. 19. Lunch, 8320 ft., Temp. -17°; Supper,
8120 ft, Temp.-17.2°. A good forenoon, few crevasses; we covered 10.2
miles. In the afternoon we soon got into difficulties. We saw the
land very clearly, but the difficulty is to get at it. An hour after
starting we came on huge pressures and great street crevasses partly
open. We had to steer more and more to the west, so that our course
was very erratic. Late in the march we turned more to the north and
again encountered open crevasses across our track. It is very difficult
manoeuvring amongst these and I should not like to do it without ski.
We are camped in a very disturbed region, but the wind has fallen
very light here, and our camp is comfortable for the first time for
many weeks. We may be anything from 25 to 30 miles from our depot,
but I wish to goodness we could see a way through the disturbances
ahead. Our faces are much cut up by all the winds we have had, mine
least of all; the others tell me they feel their noses more going with
than against the wind. Evans' nose is almost as bad as his fingers. He
is a good deal crocked up.
_Tuesday, February_ 6.--Lunch 7900; Supper 7210. Temp. -15°. We've
had a horrid day and not covered good mileage. On turning out found
sky overcast; a beastly position amidst crevasses. Luckily it cleared
just before we started. We went straight for Mt. Darwin, but in half
an hour found ourselves amongst huge open chasms, unbridged, but not
very deep, I think. We turned to the north between two, but to our
chagrin they converged into chaotic disturbance. We had to retrace
our steps for a mile or so, then struck to the west and got on to
a confused sea of sastrugi, pulling very hard; we put up the sail,
Evans' nose suffered, Wilson very cold, everything horrid. Camped
for lunch in the sastrugi; the only comfort, things looked clearer
to the west and we were obviously going downhill. In the afternoon we
struggled on, got out of sastrugi and turned over on glazed surface,
crossing many crevasses--very easy work on ski. Towards the end of
the march we realised the certainty of maintaining a more or less
straight course to the depot, and estimate distance 10 to 15 miles.
Food is low and weather uncertain, so that many hours of the day
were anxious; but this evening, though we are not as far advanced as
I expected, the outlook is much more promising. Evans is the chief
anxiety now; his cuts and wounds suppurate, his nose looks very bad,
and altogether he shows considerable signs of being played out. Things
may mend for him on the glacier, and his wounds get some respite under
warmer conditions. I am indeed glad to think we shall so soon have
done with plateau conditions. It took us 27 days to reach the Pole
and 21 days back--in all 48 days--nearly 7 weeks in low temperature
with almost incessant wind.
End of the Summit Journey
_Wednesday, February 7_.--Mount Darwin [or Upper Glacier] Depot,
R. 21. Height 7100. Lunch Temp. -9°; Supper Temp, [a blank here]. A
wretched day with satisfactory ending. First panic, certainty that
biscuit-box was short. Great doubt as to how this has come about,
as we certainly haven't over-issued allowances. Bowers is dreadfully
disturbed about it. The shortage is a full day's allowance. We started
our march at 8.30, and travelled down slopes and over terraces covered
with hard sastrugi--very tiresome work--and the land didn't seem to
come any nearer. At lunch the wind increased, and what with hot tea
and good food, we started the afternoon in a better frame of mind,
and it soon became obvious we were nearing our mark. Soon after 6.30
we saw our depot easily and camped next it at 7.30.
Found note from Evans to say the second return party passed through
safely at 2.30 on January 14--half a day longer between depots than
we have been. The temperature is higher, but there is a cold wind
to-night.
Well, we have come through our 7 weeks' ice camp journey and most of
us are fit, but I think another week might have had a very bad effect
on Evans, who is going steadily downhill.
It is satisfactory to recall that these facts give absolute proof of
both expeditions having reached the Pole and placed the question of
priority beyond discussion.
_Thursday, February_ 8.--R. 22. Height 6260. Start Temp. -11°; Lunch
Temp. -5°; Supper, zero. 9.2 miles. Started from the depot rather
late owing to weighing biscuit, &c., and rearranging matters. Had a
beastly morning. Wind very strong and cold. Steered in for Mt. Darwin
to visit rock. Sent Bowers on, on ski, as Wilson can't wear his at
present. He obtained several specimens, all of much the same type,
a close-grained granite rock which weathers red. Hence the pink
limestone. After he rejoined we skidded downhill pretty fast, leaders
on ski, Oates and Wilson on foot alongside sledge--Evans detached. We
lunched at 2 well down towards Mt. Buckley, the wind half a gale and
everybody very cold and cheerless. However, better things were to
follow. We decided to steer for the moraine under Mt. Buckley and,
pulling with crampons, we crossed some very irregular steep slopes
with big crevasses and slid down towards the rocks. The moraine was
obviously so interesting that when we had advanced some miles and
got out of the wind, I decided to camp and spend the rest of the day
geologising. It has been extremely interesting. We found ourselves
under perpendicular cliffs of Beacon sandstone, weathering rapidly
and carrying veritable coal seams. From the last Wilson, with his
sharp eyes, has picked several plant impressions, the last a piece of
coal with beautifully traced leaves in layers, also some excellently
preserved impressions of thick stems, showing cellular structure. In
one place we saw the cast of small waves on the sand. To-night Bill
has got a specimen of limestone with archeo-cyathus--the trouble is
one cannot imagine where the stone comes from; it is evidently rare,
as few specimens occur in the moraine. There is a good deal of pure
white quartz. Altogether we have had a most interesting afternoon,
and the relief of being out of the wind and in a warmer temperature
is inexpressible. I hope and trust we shall all buck up again now
that the conditions are more favourable. We have been in shadow all
the afternoon, but the sun has just reached us, a little obscured by
night haze. A lot could be written on the delight of setting foot on
rock after 14 weeks of snow and ice and nearly 7 out of sight of aught
else. It is like going ashore after a sea voyage. We deserve a little
good bright weather after all our trials, and hope to get a chance
to dry our sleeping-bags and generally make our gear more comfortable.
_Friday, February 9_.--R. 23. Height 5,210 ft. Lunch Temp. +10°;
Supper Temp. +12.5°. About 13 miles. Kept along the edge of moraine
to the end of Mt. Buckley. Stopped and geologised. Wilson got great
find of vegetable impression in piece of limestone. Too tired to write
geological notes. We all felt very slack this morning, partly rise of
temperature, partly reaction, no doubt. Ought to have kept close in
to glacier north of Mt. Buckley, but in bad light the descent looked
steep and we kept out. Evidently we got amongst bad ice pressure and
had to come down over an ice-fall. The crevasses were much firmer
than expected and we got down with some difficulty, found our night
camp of December 20, and lunched an hour after. Did pretty well in
the afternoon, marching 3 3/4 hours; the sledge-meter is unshipped,
so cannot tell distance traversed. Very warm on march and we are
all pretty tired. To-night it is wonderfully calm and warm, though
it has been overcast all the afternoon. It is remarkable to be able
to stand outside the tent and sun oneself. Our food satisfies now,
but we must march to keep in the full ration, and we want rest,
yet we shall pull through all right, D.V. We are by no means worn out.
_Saturday, February_ 10.--R. 24. Lunch Temp. +12°; Supper
Temp. +10°. Got off a good morning march in spite of keeping too
far east and getting in rough, cracked ice. Had a splendid night
sleep, showing great change in all faces, so didn't get away till
10 A.M. Lunched just before 3. After lunch the land began to be
obscured. We held a course for 2 1/2 hours with difficulty, then
the sun disappeared, and snow drove in our faces with northerly
wind--very warm and impossible to steer, so camped. After supper,
still very thick all round, but sun showing and less snow falling. The
fallen snow crystals are quite feathery like thistledown. We have
two full days' food left, and though our position is uncertain,
we are certainly within two outward marches from the middle glacier
depot. However, if the weather doesn't clear by to-morrow, we must
either march blindly on or reduce food. It is very trying. Another
night to make up arrears of sleep. The ice crystals that first fell
this afternoon were very large. Now the sky is clearer overhead,
the temperature has fallen slightly, and the crystals are minute.
_Sunday, February_ 11.--R. 25. Lunch Temp. -6.5°; Supper -3.5°. The
worst day we have had during the trip and greatly owing to our
own fault. We started on a wretched surface with light S.W. wind,
sail set, and pulling on ski--horrible light, which made everything
look fantastic. As we went on light got worse, and suddenly we found
ourselves in pressure. Then came the fatal decision to steer east. We
went on for 6 hours, hoping to do a good distance, which in fact
I suppose we did, but for the last hour or two we pressed on into
a regular trap. Getting on to a good surface we did not reduce our
lunch meal, and thought all going well, but half an hour after lunch
we got into the worst ice mess I have ever been in. For three hours
we plunged on on ski, first thinking we were too much to the right,
then too much to the left; meanwhile the disturbance got worse and my
spirits received a very rude shock. There were times when it seemed
almost impossible to find a way out of the awful turmoil in which we
found ourselves. At length, arguing that there must be a way on our
left, we plunged in that direction. It got worse, harder, more icy
and crevassed. We could not manage our ski and pulled on foot, falling
into crevasses every minute--most luckily no bad accident. At length
we saw a smoother slope towards the land, pushed for it, but knew it
was a woefully long way from us. The turmoil changed in character,
irregular crevassed surface giving way to huge chasms, closely packed
and most difficult to cross. It was very heavy work, but we had grown
desperate. We won through at 10 P.M. and I write after 12 hours on the
march. I _think_ we are on or about the right track now, but we are
still a good number of miles from the depôt, so we reduced rations
to-night. We had three pemmican meals left and decided to make them
into four. To-morrow's lunch must serve for two if we do not make big
progress. It was a test of our endurance on the march and our fitness
with small supper. We have come through well. A good wind has come
down the glacier which is clearing the sky and surface. Pray God the
wind holds to-morrow. Short sleep to-night and off first thing, I hope.
_Monday, February_ 12.--R. 26. In a very critical situation. All
went well in the forenoon, and we did a good long march over a fair
surface. Two hours before lunch we were cheered by the sight of our
night camp of the 18th December, the day after we made our depôt--this
showed we were on the right track. In the afternoon, refreshed by tea,
we went forward, confident of covering the remaining distance, but by
a fatal chance we kept too far to the left, and then we struck uphill
and, tired and despondent, arrived in a horrid maze of crevasses and
fissures. Divided councils caused our course to be erratic after this,
and finally, at 9 P.M. we landed in the worst place of all. After
discussion we decided to camp, and here we are, after a very short
supper and one meal only remaining in the food bag; the depot doubtful
in locality. We must get there to-morrow. Meanwhile we are cheerful
with an effort. It's a tight place, but luckily we've been well fed
up to the present. Pray God we have fine weather to-morrow.
[At this point the bearings of the mid-glacier depôt are given,
but need not be quoted.]
_Tuesday, February_ 13.--Camp R. 27, beside
Cloudmaker. Temp. -10°. Last night we all slept well in spite of
our grave anxieties. For my part these were increased by my visits
outside the tent, when I saw the sky gradually closing over and snow
beginning to fall. By our ordinary time for getting up it was dense
all around us. We could see nothing, and we could only remain in our
sleeping-bags. At 8.30 I dimly made out the land of the Cloudmaker. At
9 we got up, deciding to have tea, and with one biscuit, no pemmican,
so as to leave our scanty remaining meal for eventualities. We started
marching, and at first had to wind our way through an awful turmoil
of broken ice, but in about an hour we hit an old moraine track,
brown with dirt. Here the surface was much smoother and improved
rapidly. The fog still hung over all and we went on for an hour,
checking our bearings. Then the whole place got smoother and we turned
outward a little. Evans raised our hopes with a shout of depot ahead,
but it proved to be a shadow on the ice. Then suddenly Wilson saw
the actual depot flag. It was an immense relief, and we were soon in
possession of our 3 1/2 days' food. The relief to all is inexpressible;
needless to say, we camped and had a meal.
Marching in the afternoon, I kept more to the left, and closed the
mountain till we fell on the stone moraines. Here Wilson detached
himself and made a collection, whilst we pulled the sledge on. We
camped late, abreast the lower end of the mountain, and had nearly
our usual satisfying supper. Yesterday was the worst experience of
the trip and gave a horrid feeling of insecurity. Now we are right
up, we must march. In future food must be worked so that we do not
run so short if the weather fails us. We mustn't get into a hole like
this again. Greatly relieved to find that both the other parties got
through safely. Evans seems to have got mixed up with pressures like
ourselves. It promises to be a very fine day to-morrow. The valley is
gradually clearing. Bowers has had a very bad attack of snow blindness,
and Wilson another almost as bad. Evans has no power to assist with
camping work.
_Wednesday, February_ 14.--Lunch Temp. 0°; Supper Temp. -1°. A
fine day with wind on and off down the glacier, and we have done a
fairly good march. We started a little late and pulled on down the
moraine. At first I thought of going right, but soon, luckily, changed
my mind and decided to follow the curving lines of the moraines. This
course has brought us well out on the glacier. Started on crampons;
one hour after, hoisted sail; the combined efforts produced only slow
speed, partly due to the sandy snowdrifts similar to those on summit,
partly to our torn sledge runners. At lunch these were scraped and
sand-papered. After lunch we got on snow, with ice only occasionally
showing through. A poor start, but the gradient and wind improving,
we did 6 1/2 miles before night camp.
There is no getting away from the fact that we are not going
strong. Probably none of us: Wilson's leg still troubles him and he
doesn't like to trust himself on ski; but the worst case is Evans,
who is giving us serious anxiety. This morning he suddenly disclosed
a huge blister on his foot. It delayed us on the march, when he had
to have his crampon readjusted. Sometimes I fear he is going from bad
to worse, but I trust he will pick up again when we come to steady
work on ski like this afternoon. He is hungry and so is Wilson. We
can't risk opening out our food again, and as cook at present I am
serving something under full allowance. We are inclined to get slack
and slow with our camping arrangements, and small delays increase. I
have talked of the matter to-night and hope for improvement. We
cannot do distance without the ponies. The next depot [43] some 30
miles away and nearly 3 days' food in hand.
_Thursday, February_ 15.--R. 29. Lunch Temp. -10°; Supper
Temp. -4°. 13.5 miles. Again we are running short of provision. We
don't know our distance from the depot, but imagine about 20
miles. Heavy march--did 13 3/4 (geo.). We are pulling for food
and not very strong evidently. In the afternoon it was overcast;
land blotted out for a considerable interval. We have reduced food,
also sleep; feeling rather done. Trust 1 1/2 days or 2 at most will
see us at depot.
_Friday, February_ 16.--12.5 m. Lunch Temp.-6.1°; Supper Temp. -7°. A
rather trying position. Evans has nearly broken down in brain,
we think. He is absolutely changed from his normal self-reliant
self. This morning and this afternoon he stopped the march on some
trivial excuse. We are on short rations with not very short food;
spin out till to-morrow night. We cannot be more than 10 or 12 miles
from the depot, but the weather is all against us. After lunch we were
enveloped in a snow sheet, land just looming. Memory should hold the
events of a very troublesome march with more troubles ahead. Perhaps
all will be well if we can get to our depot to-morrow fairly early,
but it is anxious work with the sick man. But it's no use meeting
troubles half way, and our sleep is all too short to write more.
_Saturday, February_ 17.--A very terrible day. Evans looked a little
better after a good sleep, and declared, as he always did, that he was
quite well. He started in his place on the traces, but half an hour
later worked his ski shoes adrift, and had to leave the sledge. The
surface was awful, the soft recently fallen snow clogging the ski
and runners at every step, the sledge groaning, the sky overcast,
and the land hazy. We stopped after about one hour, and Evans came up
again, but very slowly. Half an hour later he dropped out again on the
same plea. He asked Bowers to lend him a piece of string. I cautioned
him to come on as quickly as he could, and he answered cheerfully as
I thought. We had to push on, and the remainder of us were forced to
pull very hard, sweating heavily. Abreast the Monument Rock we stopped,
and seeing Evans a long way astern, I camped for lunch. There was no
alarm at first, and we prepared tea and our own meal, consuming the
latter. After lunch, and Evans still not appearing, we looked out,
to see him still afar off. By this time we were alarmed, and all four
started back on ski. I was first to reach the poor man and shocked
at his appearance; he was on his knees with clothing disarranged,
hands uncovered and frostbitten, and a wild look in his eyes. Asked
what was the matter, he replied with a slow speech that he didn't
know, but thought he must have fainted. We got him on his feet, but
after two or three steps he sank down again. He showed every sign of
complete collapse. Wilson, Bowers, and I went back for the sledge,
whilst Oates remained with him. When we returned he was practically
unconscious, and when we got him into the tent quite comatose. He
died quietly at 12.30 A.M. On discussing the symptoms we think he
began to get weaker just before we reached the Pole, and that his
downward path was accelerated first by the shock of his frostbitten
fingers, and later by falls during rough travelling on the glacier,
further by his loss of all confidence in himself. Wilson thinks it
certain he must have injured his brain by a fall. It is a terrible
thing to lose a companion in this way, but calm reflection shows that
there could not have been a better ending to the terrible anxieties of
the past week. Discussion of the situation at lunch yesterday shows
us what a desperate pass we were in with a sick man on our hands at
such a distance from home.
At 1 A.M. we packed up and came down over the pressure ridges,
finding our depôt easily.