4th January 1912.

We accompanied the Pole party for about five miles and everything seemed to be going pretty well and Capt. Scott said they felt confident they could pull the load quite well, so there was no more need for us to go on farther; so we stopped and did all the talking we could in a short time. We wished them every success and a safe return, and asked each one if there was anything we could do for them when we got back, but they were all satisfied they had left nothing undone, so the time came for the last handshake and good-bye. I think we all felt it very much. They then wished us a speedy return and safe, and then they moved off. We gave them three cheers, and watched them for a while until we began to feel cold. Then we turned and started for home. We soon lost sight of each other. We travelled a long time so as to make the best of it while the weather was suitable, as we have to keep up a good pace on the food allowance. It wont do to lay up much. One thing since we left Mt. Darwin, we have had weather we could travel in, although we have not seen the sun much of late. We did 13 miles as near as we can guess by the cairns we have passed. We have not got a sledge meter so shall have to go by guess all the way home.

[Owing to the loss of a sledge meter on the Beardmore Glacier one of the three parties had to return without one. A sledge meter gives the navigator his dead reckoning, indicating the miles travelled, like the log of a ship. To be deprived of it in a wilderness of snow without landmarks adds enormously to the difficulties and anxieties of a sledge party.]

5th January 1912.

We were up and off this morning, the weather being fine but the surface is about the same, the temperature keeps low. We have got to change our pulling billets. Crean has become snow-blind to-day through being leader, so I shall have the job to-morrow, as Mr. Evans seems to get blind rather quickly, so if I lead and he directs me from behind we ought to get along pretty well. I hope my eyes will keep alright. We made good 17 miles and camped.

6th January 1912.

We are making good progress on the surface we have to contend with. We picked up the 3 Degree Depot soon after noon, which puts us up to time. We took our provision for a week. We have got to reach Mt. Darwin Depot, a distance of 120 miles, with 7 days' provisions. We picked up our ski and camped for the night. We have been wondering if the others have got the same wind as us. If so it is right in their face, whereas it is at our back, a treat to what it is facing it. Crean's eyes are pretty bad to-night. Snow-blindness is an awful complaint, and no one I can assure you looks forward with pleasure when it begins to attack.

7th January 1912.

We have had a very good day as far as travelling goes, the wind has been behind us and is a great help to us. We have been on ski all day for the first time. It seems a good change to footing it, the one thing day after day gets on one's nerves. Crean's eyes are a bit better to-day, but far from being well. The temperature is pretty low, which dont improve the surface for hauling, but we seem to be getting along pretty well. We have no sledge meter so we have to go by guess. Mr. Evans says we done 171/2 miles, but I say 161/2. I am not going to over-estimate our day's run, as I am taking charge of the biscuits so that we dont over-step the mark. This we have all agreed to so that we should exactly know how we stand, from day to day. I am still leading, not very nice as the light is bad. We caught a glimpse of the land to the east of us, but could only have been a mirage.

8th January 1912.

On turning out this morning we found it was blowing a bliz. so it was almost a case of having to remain in camp, but on second thoughts we thought it best to kick off as we cant afford to lay up on account of food, so thought it best to push on. I wonder if the Pole Party have experienced this. If so they could not travel as it would be in their face, where we have got it at our back. We have lost the outward bound track, so have decided to make a straight line to Mt. Darwin, which will be on Shackleton's course according to his and Wild's Diary.

[Each of the three parties which went forward up the Beardmore Glacier carried extracts from the above diaries. Wild was Shackleton's right-hand man in his Southern Journey in 1908.]

9th January 1912.

Travelling is very difficult, bad light and still blizzing; it would have been impossible to keep in touch with the cairns in this weather. I am giving 12 miles to-night. The weather have moderated a bit and looks a bit more promising. Can see land at times.

10th January 1912.

The light is still very bad, with a good deal of drift, but we must push on as we are a long way from our depot, but we hope to reach it before our provisions run out. I am keeping a good eye on them. Crean's eyes have got alright again now.

11th January 1912.

Things are a bit better to-day. Could see the land alright and where to steer for. It is so nice to have something to look at, but I am thinking we shall all have our work cut out to reach the depot before our provisions run short. I am deducting a small portion each meal so that we shall not have to go without altogether if we don't bring up at the proper time. Have done about 14 miles.

12th January 1912.

The day has been full of adventure. At first we got into some very rough stuff, with plenty of crevasses. Had to get rid of the ski and put our thinking cap on, as we had not got under way long before we were at the top of some ice-falls; these probably are what Shackleton spoke of. We could see it meant a descent of 600/700 feet, or make a big circuit, which meant a lot of time and a big delay, and this we cant afford just now, so we decided on the descent into the valley. This proved a difficult task, as we had no crampons, having left them at Mt. Darwin Depot; but we managed after a time by getting hold of the sledge each side and allowing her to run into a big lump of pressure which was we knew a risky thing to do. It took us up to lunch time to reach the valley, where we camped for lunch, where we all felt greatly relieved, having accomplished the thing safely, no damage to ourselves or the sledge, but we lost one of Crean's ski sticks. Some of the crevasses we crossed were 100 to 200 feet wide, but well bridged in the centre, but the edges were very dangerous indeed. This is where the snow and ice begins to roll down the glacier. After starting on our way again we found we had to climb the hill. Things dont look very nice ahead again to-night. We dont seem to be more than a day's run from the depot, but it will surprise me if we reach it by to-morrow night; if not we shall have to go on short rations, as our supply is nearly run out, and we have not lost any time, but we knew on starting we had to average 151/2 miles per day to reach it in time.

13th January 1912.

This has been a very bad day for us, what with ice-falls and crevasses. We feel all full up to-night. The strain is tremendous some days. We are camped, but not at the depot, but we hope to pick it up some time to-morrow. We shall be glad to get off the Summit, as the temperature is very low. We expected the party would have reached the Pole yesterday, providing they had anything of luck.

[Scott reached the Pole on January 17.]

14th January 1912.

Sunday, we reached the Mt. Darwin Depot at 2 P.M. and camped for lunch. We had just enough now for our meal; this is cutting it a bit fine. We have now taken our 31/2 days' allowance, which has got to take us another 57 miles to the Cloudmaker Depot. This we shall do if we all keep as fit as we seem just now. We left a note at the depot to inform the Captain of our safe arrival, wishing them the best of a journey home. We are quite cheerful here to-night, after having put things right at the depot, where we found the sugar exposed to the sun; it had commenced to melt, but we put everything alright before we left, and picked up our crampons and got away as soon as we could. We know there is not much time to spare. We are now beginning to descend rapidly. To-night it is quite warm, and our tea and food is warmer. Things are going pretty favourable. We are looking forward to making good runs down the glacier. We have had some very heavy dragging lately [up] the sharp rises we found on the outward journey. After a sharp rise we found a long gradual run down, two and three miles in length. We noticed this on our outward journey and remarked on it, but coming back the long uphill drag we found out was pretty heavy work.

15th January 1912.

Had a good run to-day but the ice was very rough and very much crevassed, but with crampons on we made splendid progress. We did not like to stop, but we thought it would not be advisable to overdo our strength as it is a long way to go yet.

16th January 1912.

We made good headway again to-day, but to-night we camped in some very rough ice and pressure ridges. We are under the impression we are slightly out of our proper course, but Mr. Evans thinks we cant be very far out either way, and Crean and I are of the same opinion according to the marks on the land. Anyhow we hope to get out of it in the morning and make the Cloudmaker Depot by night. We shall then feel safe, but the weather dont look over promising again to-night, I am thinking. So far we have not had to stop for weather. We have wondered if the Pole Party have been as lucky with the weather as we have. They ought by now to be homeward bound. We have more chance now of writing as the temperature is much better down here. To-night we have been discussing how the dogs got home, and also the progress made by the Doctor's [Atkinson] Party. They ought to be nearing home. We have thought of the time it will take us to reach it at the rate we are getting along now.

17th January 1912.

We have to-day experienced what we none of us ever wants to be our lot again. I cannot describe the maze we got into and the hairbreadth escapes we have had to pass through to-day. This day we shall remember all our lives. The more we tried to get clear the worse the pressure got; at times it seemed almost impossible for us to get along, and when we had got over the places it was more than we could face to try and retreat; so we struggled on for hours to try and free ourselves, but everything seemed against us. I was leading with a long trace so that I could get across some of the ridges when we thought it possible to get the sledge over without being dashed down into the fathomless pits each side of us which were too numerous to think of. Often and often we saw openings where it was possible to drop the biggest ship afloat in and loose her. This is what we have travelled over all day. It has been a great strain on us all, and Mr. Evans is rather down and thinks he has led us into such a hole, but as we have told him it is no fault of his, as it is impossible for anyone coming down the glacier to see what is ahead of them, so we must be thankful that we are so far safe. To-night we seem to be in a better place. We have camped not being able to reach the depot, which we are certain is not far off. Dont want many days like this.



18th January 1912.

We started off all in good spirits trusting we should be able to reach the depot all in good time, but we had not got far before we came into pressure far worse than we were in yesterday. My God! what a day this have been for us all. I cannot describe what we really have to-day come through, no one could believe that we came through with safety, if we had only had a camera we could have obtained some photographs that would have surprised anyone living. We travelled all day with very little food, as we are a day and a half overdue, but when we got clear, I can say "clear" now because I am dotting down this at the depot where we have arrived. I had managed to keep behind just a small amount of biscuit and a drop of tea to liven us up to try and reach the depot, which we reached at 11 P.M. after one of the most trying days of my life. Shall have reason to never forget the 17 and 18 of January, 1912. To-night Mr. Evans is complaining of his eyes, more trouble ahead!

19th January 1912.

After putting the depot in order and re-arranging things, we kicked off again for D. [Lower Glacier] Depot. Mr. Evans' eyes were very bad on starting this morning, but we made a pretty good start. I picked some rock to-day which I intend to try and get back with, as it is the only chance we have had of getting any up to the present, and it seemed a funny thing: the rock I got some pieces of looked as if someone before me had been chipping some off. I wonder if it was the Doctor's party, but we could not see any trace of their sledge, but we could account for that, as it was all blue ice and not likely to leave any marks behind. After travelling for some distance we got on the same ridge as we ran along on the outward Journey and passed what we took to be the Doctor's Xmas Camp. We had not gone far past before we got into soft snow, so we decided to camp for lunch. Mr. Evans' eyes being very bad indeed, we are travelling now on our own, I am leading and telling him the course I am steering, that is the different marks on the mountains, but we shall keep on this ridge for some distance yet. After lunch to-day we did not proceed far before we decided to camp, the surface being so bad and Mr. Evans' eyes so bad, we thought it would do us all good to have a rest. Last night we left a note for Capt. Scott, but did not say much about our difficulties just above the Cloudmaker, as it would be better to tell him when we see him.

20th January 1912.

We did not get away very smart to-day, but as we found the surface very soft, we decided to go on ski. Mr. Evans is still suffering with his eyes and badly, after getting his ski on we tied him on to the trace so that he could help to drag a bit, when we were troubling about the ridges we came over on our outward Journey, but strange to say we never encountered any ridges at all and the surface, although very soft, was the best I have ever sledged over ever since I have been at it. We fancied on our left or to the west we saw what we took to be the ridges what we seem to have missed altogether, although Mr. Evans have been blind and could not see anything at all we have made splendid progress and covered at least 20 miles, as near as we can guess. We passed to-day one of the Doctor's homeward bound camps, and kept on their track for some time, but finally lost it. We are camped to-night and we all feel confident we shall, if the weather remains good, reach the depot to-morrow night.

21st January 1912.

Sunday: We started off as usual, again on ski, the weather again being favourable. Mr. Evans' eyes is still bad, but improving. It will be a good job when they are better. I picked up our outward bound course soon after we started this morning and asked Mr. Evans if I should try and keep it, as it will save him the trouble of directing me, and another thing we came out without going through any crevasses and I have noticed a good many crevasses to-day what seems to be very dangerous ones, and on two occasions where our sledges [on the outward journey] had gone over, two of the crevasses had fallen through. We accomplished the journey from the Cloudmaker to this depot in three days. We all feel quite proud of our performance. Mr. Evans is a lot better to-night and old Tom is giving us a song while he is covering up the tent with snow. We have re-arranged the depot and left our usual note for Capt. Scott, wishing them a speedy return. To-morrow we hope to see and reach the Barrier, and be clear of the Beardmore for ever. We none of us minds the struggle we have been through to attain the amount of success so far reached. It is all for the good of science, as Crean says. We reached the depot at 6.45 P.M.



22nd January 1912.

We made a good start this morning and Mr. Evans' eyes is got pretty well alright again, so things looks a bit brighter. After starting we soon got round the corner from the Granite Pillars to between the mainland and Mt. Hope, on rising up on the slope between the mountain and the mainland, as soon as we sighted the Barrier, Crean let go one huge yell enough to frighten the ponies out of their graves of snow, and no more Beardmore for me after this. When we began to descend on to the Barrier it only required one of us to drag the sledge down to within a mile of the pony and sledge depot, after exchanging our sledge as arranged, picking up a small amount of pony meat, and fitted up bamboo for mast so that we shall be able to fix up a sail when favourable, we proceeded on our way to cross the Barrier. We have now 360 miles to travel geographically to get to Hut Point. Mr. Evans complained to me while outside the tent that he had a stiffness at the back of his legs behind the knees. I asked him what he thought it was, and he said could not account for it, so if he dont soon get rid of it I am to have a look and see if anything is the matter with him, as I know from what I have seen and been told before the symptoms of scurvy is pains and swelling behind the knee round the ankle and loosening of the teeth, ulcerated gums. To-night I watched to see his gums, and I am convinced he is on the point of something anyhow, and this I have spoken to Crean about, but he dont seem to realise it. But I have asked him to wait developments for a time. It seems we are in for more trouble now, but lets hope for the best.

23rd January 1912.

We got away pretty well and did a good journey, having covered about 14 miles over a fairly good surface. We have passed the Blizzard Camp and glad of it too, again to-day we saw in several places where the bridges on the crevasses had fallen through. A good job they none of them fell through when we were going over them as the width would have taken all through with them, and in every case where they had fallen through was where we had gone over, as the mark of the sledge was very distinct in each case. Mr. Evans seems better to-day.

24th January 1912.

Did a good run to-day over a good surface. The weather have been very warm, not much to write to-night as everything is going well.

25th January 1912.

Started off in very thick weather, the temperature is very high and the snow is wet and clogging all day on our ski, which made dragging heavy, and towards evening it got worse. After lunch we got a good breeze for an hour, when it changed to a blizzard and almost rained. We saw the depot ahead sometimes, so we tried to reach it as we thought we might be in for another few days like we had near the land on our outward journey. Anyhow we reached it after a tremendous struggle owing to the wet and bad light. I took off my ski and carried them on my shoulder to finish up the last half a mile. The blizzard died down after we had camped and turned in for the night. Looked at the thermometer which showed 34.

26th January 1912.

This have been a most wonderful day for surface. This morning when we started the thermometer stood at 34, much too high for sledging. We were on ski or we might have been on stilts for the amount of snow clogging on our ski, dont know how we should have got on without our ski, as the snow was so very soft we sank right in when we tried to go on foot, but we were fortunate to get the wind behind us and able to make use of the sail. We made a very good day of it, did 13 miles: 8 of this after lunch. I did not feel well outside the tent this morning. I came over quite giddy and faint, but it passed off quickly and have felt no more of it all day.

27th January 1912.

We had a good run to-day with the sail up. It only required one of us to keep it straight, no need whatever to pull, but it was very hot, anyone could take off all their clothes and march. It is really too hot for this part of the world, but I daresay we shall soon get it a bit colder. Did 141/2 miles, it is nice to be able to see the tracks and cairns of our outward journey. We feel satisfied when we have done a good day and in good time. Mr. Evans is now suffering from looseness of the bowels. Crean had a touch of it a few days ago, but he is quite alright again.

28th January 1912.

To-day it have been a very heavy drag. The snow is still very soft and the sun very hot, it fairly scorches anyone's face. We are almost black now and our hair is long and getting white through being exposed to the light, it gets bleached. I am glad to say it is cooler to-night, generally. We got over 121/2 miles again to-day. Mr. Evans is still very loose in his bowels. This, of course, hinders us, as we have had to stop several times. Only another few more Sundays and we hope to be safely housed at Hut Point, or Cape Evans. We have now been out 97 days.

29th January 1912.

Another good day was helped by the sail all day. One man could again manage for about two hours. The weather is still very warm, plus 20 again. Did 161/2 miles, only 14 to the next depot. Mr. Evans is still suffering from the same complaint: have come to the conclusion to stop his pemmican, as I feel that it have got something to do with him being out of sorts. Anyhow we are going to try it. Gave him a little brandy and he is taking some chalk and opium pills to try and stop it. His legs are getting worse and we are quite certain he is suffering from scurvy, at least he is turning black and blue and several other colours as well.

30th January 1912.

Very bad light but fair wind, picked up the depot this evening. Did the 14 miles quite in good time, after taking our food we found a shortage of oil and have taken what we think will take us to the next depot. There seems to have been some leakage in the one can, but how we could not account for that we have left a note telling Capt. Scott how we found it, but they will have sufficient to carry them on to the next depot, but we all know the amount of oil allowed on the Journey is enough, but if any waste takes place it means extra precautions in the handling of it. Mr. Evans is still without pemmican and seems to have somewhat recovered from the looseness, but things are not by a long way with him as they should be. Only two more depots now to pick up.

31st January 1912.

Another very good run to-day but the light being very bad we had to continually stop and steer by compass. This a difficult task, especially as there was no wind to help keep on the course, but it have cleared again to-night, the temperature is plus 20 in the day and 10 at night just now. Did 13 miles. Mr. Evans is allowed a little pemmican as the work is hard and it wants a little warm food to put life into anyone in this part of the world.

1st February 1912.

We had a very fine day but a very heavy pull, but we did 13 miles. Mr. Evans and myself have been out 100 days to-day. I have had to change my shirt again. This is the last clean side I have got. I have been wearing two shirts and each side will now have done duty next the skin, as I have changed round each month, and I have certainly found the benefit of it, and on the point we all three agree. Mr. Evans is still gradually worse: it is no good closing our eyes to the fact. We must push on as we have a long way to go yet.

2nd February 1912.

A very bad light again to-day: could not make much progress, only did 11 miles, but we must think ourselves lucky we have not had to lay up and get delayed, but we have had the wind and more behind us, otherwise we should have had to stop. Mr. Evans is no better but seems to be in great pain, but he keeps quite cheerful we are pleased to say.

3rd February 1912.

This morning we were forced to put Mr. Evans on his ski and strap him on, as he could not lift his legs. I looked at them again and found they are rapidly getting worse, things are looking serious on his part, but we have been trying to pump him up he will get through alright, but he begins to think different himself, but if we get to One Ton and can get a change of food it may relieve him. He is a brick, there is plenty of pluck: one cannot but admire such pluck. The light have been dreadful all day and I seemed to have got a bit depressed at times, not being able to see anything to know where I was on the course or not and not getting a word from Mr. Evans. I deliberately went off the course to see if anyone was taking notice but to my surprise I was quickly told I was off the course. This I thought, but wanted to know if he was looking out, which he was. It came on to bliz after we camped, we ought to reach Mt. Hooper to-morrow night.

4th February 1912.

Started in splendid weather, but the surface was bad and dragging was very heavy, but it improved as the day went on, and we arrived at the depot at 7.40 P.M. We are now 180 miles from Hut Point, and this Sunday night we hope to be only two more Sundays on the Barrier. No improvement in Mr. Evans, much worse. We have taken out our food and left nearly all the pemmican as we dont require it on account of none of us caring for it, therefore we are leaving it behind for the others. They may require it. We have left our note and wished them every success on their way, but we have decided it is best not to say anything about Mr. Evans being ill or suffering from scurvy. This old cairn have stood the weather and is still a huge thing.

5th February 1912.

Had a very fine day and a good light all day, which makes things much more cheerful. Did not get away before 9 o'clock but we did 111/2 miles, it is gradually getting colder. Mr. Evans is still getting worse, to-day he is suffering from looseness in the bowels: shall have to stop his pemmican.

6th February 1912.

Another fine day but sun was very hot and caused us to sweat a good deal, but we dont mind as we are pretty used to such changes. We shall soon be looking for land ahead, which will be Mt. Discovery or Mt. Erebus, we have 155 miles to go to Hut Point: done alright again 131/2 miles, we do wonderfully well especially as Mr. Evans have got to go very slowly first off after stopping until he gets the stiffness out of his legs, but he is suffering a good deal and in silence, he never complains, but he dont get much sleep. We shall all be glad when we arrive at One Ton, where there is a change of food for us all. The pemmican is too much, especially when the weather is warm.

7th February 1912.

A very fine day but heavy going. We are bringing the land in sight. The day have been simply lovely, did 12 miles. No better luck with our patient, he gets along without a murmur. We have got to help him in and out of the tent, but we have consulted on the matter and he is determined to go to the last, which we know is not far off, as it is difficult for him to stand, but he is the essence of a brick to keep it up, but we shall have to drag him on the sledge when he cant go any further.

8th February 1912.

To-day have been very favourable and fine, we had a good breeze and set sail after lunch. If we get a good day to-morrow we hope to reach One Ton. Mr. Evans have passed a good deal of blood to-day, which makes things look a lot worse. I have to do nearly everything for him now.

9th February 1912.

A very fine day and quite warm. Reached the depot at 5.5 P.M. and we all had a good feed of oatmeal. Oh, what a God-send to get a change of food! We have taken enough food for 9 days, which if we still keep up our present rate of progress it ought to take us in to Hut Point. We cannot take too heavy a load, as there is only the two of us pulling now, and this our last port of call before we reach Hut Point, but things are not looking any too favourable for us, as our leader is gradually getting lower every day. It is almost impossible for him to get along, and we are still 120 miles from Hut Point.

10th February 1912.

We did a good march, in very thick weather. To-night we are camped and I am sorry to say Mr. Evans is in a very bad state. If this is scurvy I am sorry for anyone it attacks. We shall do our utmost to get him back alive, although he is so ill, he is very cheerful, which is very good and tries to do anything to help us along. We are thinking the food, now we have got a change, may improve things. I am very pleased to say Crean and myself are in the best of health, which we are thankful for.

11th February 1912.

To-day we built a cairn and left all our gear we could do without, as it is impossible for us to drag the load now, and Mr. Evans we think is doing well as long as he can keep on his legs. We have had a very bad light all day, and to-night we have a bliz on us, so we had to camp early. Our day's run has been 11 miles. We are now about 99 miles from our base.

12th February 1912.

We did not get away until 10 o'clock on account of bad weather, but after we put Mr. Evans on his ski he went on slowly. It is against our wish to have to send him on a little in advance, but it is best as we shall have to drag him out of this we are certain. He has fainted on two or three occasions, but after a drop of brandy he has been able to proceed, but it is very awkward, especially as the temperature is so low. We are afraid of his getting frost-bitten. Our progress is very slow, the light is very bad, and it is seldom we see the land.

13th February 1912.

We got away in good time, but progress was slow, and Mr. Evans could not go, and we consulted awhile and came to the conclusion it would be best to put him on the sledge, otherwise he may not pull through, so we stopped and camped, and decided to drop everything we can possibly do without, so we have only got our sleeping bags, cooker, and what little food and oil we have left. Our load is not much, but Mr. Evans on the sledge makes it pretty heavy work for us both, but he says he is comfortable now. This morning he wished us to leave him, but this we could not think of. We shall stand by him to the end one way or other, so we are the masters to-day. He has got to do as we wish and we hope to pull him through. This morning when we depoted all our gear I changed my socks and got my foot badly frostbitten, and the only way was to fetch it round. So although Mr. Evans was so bad he proposed to stuff it on his stomach to try and get it right again. I did not like to risk such a thing as he is certainly very weak, but we tried it, and it succeeded in bringing it round, thanks to his thoughtfulness, and I shall never forget the kindness bestowed on me at a critical time in our travels, but I think we could go to any length of trouble to assist one another; in such time and such a place we must trust in a higher power to pull us through. When we pack up now and have to move off we have to get everything ready before we attempt to move the tent, as it is impossible for our leader now to stand, therefore it is necessary to get him ready before we start. We then pull the sledge alongside his bag and lift him on to it and strap him on. It is a painful piece of work and he takes it pretty well, but we can't help hurting him, as it is very awkward to lift him, the snow being soft and the light so bad, but he dont complain. The only thing we hear him grind his teeth.

14th February 1912.

Another good start after the usual preparation, we have not got much to pack, but it takes us some time, to get our invalid ready, the surface is very bad and our progress is very slow, but we have proposed to go longer hours and try to cover the distance, that is if we can stick it ourselves.

15th February 1912.

We started in fine weather this morning, but it soon came over thick and progress became slow. We had to continually consult the compass, as we have had no wind to assist us, but after awhile the sun peeped out and the wind sprang up and we were able to set sail, which helped us put in a good march.

16th February 1912.

To-day it have been a very heavy drag all day, and the light is very bad, but we had the pleasure of seeing Castle Rock and Observation Hill. We uncovered Mr. Evans to let him have a look and we have reduced our ration now to one half as it is impossible for us to reach Hut Point under four days, that is if everything goes favourable with us.

17th February 1912.

To-day it has been thick, this morning soon after we started we saw what we thought was the dog tent [the two dog-teams going out to meet the Polar Party], a thing we had been looking for to try and get relief, but when we came up to it we found it was only a piece of biscuit box stuck on an old camp for a guide. It shows how deceiving the things here are. I can tell you our hopes were raised, but on reaching it they dropped again considerably. We were able to see the land occasionally, and during one of the breaks this afternoon we spotted the motor. Oh, what joy! We again uncovered Mr. Evans to let him have a look and after trudging along for another three hours we brought up alongside it and camped for the night. We are now only a little over 30 miles from Hut Point: if we could only see the dogs approaching us, but they, we think, may have passed us while the weather have been thick. Mr. Evans is getting worse every day, we are almost afraid to sleep at night as he seems very weak. If the temperature goes much lower it will be a job to keep him warm. We have found some biscuits here at the motor but nothing else, but that will assist greatly on our way. The slogging have been heavy all day. We are pretty tired to-night. I dont think we have got the go in us we had, but we must try and push on.

18th February 1912.

I started to move Mr. Evans this morning, but he completely collapsed and fainted away. Crean was very upset and almost cried, but I told him it was no good to create a scene but put up a bold front and try to assist. I really think he thought Mr. Evans had gone, but we managed to pull him through. We used the last drop of brandy. After awhile we got him on the sledge and proceeded as usual, but finding the surface very bad and we were unable to make less than a mile an hour, we stopped and decided to camp. We told Mr. Evans of our plans, which were: Crean should proceed, it being a splendid day, on foot to Hut Point to obtain relief if possible. This we had agreed to between ourselves. I offered to do the Journey and Crean remain behind, but Tom said he would much rather I stayed with the invalid and look after him, so I thought it best I should remain, and these plans were agreed to by all of us, so after we had camped the next thing was the food problem. We had about a day's provisions with extra biscuit taken from the motor, and a little extra oil taken from the same place, so we gave Crean what he thought he could manage to accomplish the Journey of 30 miles geographical on, which was a little chocolate and biscuits. We put him up a little drink, but he would not carry it. What a pity we did not have some ski, but we dumped them to save weight. So Crean sailed away in splendid weather for a try to bring relief. I was in a bit of a sweat all day and remained up to watch the weather till long after midnight. I was afraid of the weather, but it kept clear and I thought he might have reached or got within easy distance of Hut Point; but there was the possibility of his dropping down a crevasse, but that we had to leave to chance, but none the more it was anxious moments as if it comes on to drift the weather is very treacherous in these parts. After Crean left I left Mr. Evans and proceeded to Corner Camp which was about a mile away, to see if there was any provisions left there that would be of use to us. I found a little butter, a little cheese, and a little treacle that had been brought there for the ponies. I also went back to the motor and got a little more oil while the weather was fine. I also got a large piece of burbery and tied on a long bamboo and stuck up a big flag on our sledge so that anyone could not pass our way without seeing us or our flag. I found a note left at Corner Camp by Mr. Day saying there was a lot of very bad crevasses between there and the sea ice, especially off White Island. This put me in a bit of a fix, as I, of course, at once thought of Crean. He being on foot was more likely to go down than he would had he been on ski. I did not tell Mr. Evans anything about the crevasses, as I certainly thought it would be best kept from him. I just told him the note was there and all was well.

19th February 1912.

To-day Mr. Evans seems a bit better and more cheerful, the rest will do him good and assist in getting a little strength. We have been wondering when relief will reach us, but we cannot expect it for at least a day or two yet at the earliest. It was very thick this morning and also very cold. The temperature is dropping rapidly. Our tent was all covered in frost rime to-day, a sure sign of colder weather. It was very thick this morning but cleared as the day advanced, but we could not see Hut Point. I wonder if poor old Tom reached alright. We have very little food now except biscuit, but oil is better. We have got 1/2 gallon and if relief dont come for some time we shall be able to have hot water when all other things are gone. I have thought out a plan for the future, in case of no relief coming, but of course we took all things into consideration in case of failure, but we must hope for the best. Of course I know it is no use thinking of Mr. Evans being able to move any further as he cant stand at all, the only thing is, we may have missed the dogs, if so there is still a chance of someone being at Hut Point. I am cold now and cannot write more to-night. We lose the sun at midnight now. If all had went well we should have been home by now.

20th February 1912.

Tuesday not a nice day. A low drift all the morning and increased to a blizzard at times. Have had to remain in the tent all day to try and keep warm. Have not got much food except biscuits. Mr. Evans is about the same but quite cheerful. We have had whole journey over and over: it have passed these three days away. We have wondered how they are getting on behind us; we have worked it out and they ought to be on the Barrier now, with anything of luck. We have been gambling on the condition of the ice and the possibility of the open water at Hut Point at any time now, and also about what news of home, although home is one of the foremost thoughts we hardly ever mention it, only what we are going to have to eat when we do arrive there. I think we have got everything that is good down on our list. Of course New Zealand have got to be answerable for a good deal: plenty of apples we are going to have and some nice home-made cake, not too rich, as we think we can eat more. I wonder if the mules will have arrived, as I am to look after them till Capt. Oates returns, as Anton will be gone home, or at least going soon. We shall have to hurry up as the ship is to leave again on the 2nd of March, as it is not safe to remain longer in these regions. I am now too cold to write, and I dont seem settled at all and the weather is still pretty bad outside, so we are not going to look for anything to come along to-night. "Hark!" from us both. "Yes, it is the dogs near. Relief at last. Who is there?" I did not stay to think more before I was outside the tent. "Yes, sir, it is alright." The Doctor and Dimitri. "How did you see us?" "The flag Lash," says Dimitri. The Doctor, "How is Mr. Evans?" "Alright, but low." But this had a good effect on him. After the first few minutes we got their tent pitched and the food they brought us I was soon on the way preparing a meal for us all, but Mr. Evans cannot have pemmican, but the Doctor have brought everything that will do him good, some onions to boil and several other things. Dimitri brought along a good lump of cake: we are in clover. To-night after the Doctor had examined my patient and we got through a good deal of talk about everything we could think of, especially home news and the return parties and the ship and those in her. We were sorry to hear she had not been able to get very near, and that the mules had arrived, and I dont know what, we now settled down for a good night. It seems to me we are in a new world, a weight is off my mind and I can once more see a bright spot in the sky for us all, the gloom is now removed. The bliz is bad outside, and Doctor and Dimitri is gone and turned in, so will [I] once more, but sleep is out of the question.

21st February 1912.

The day have been very bad and we are obliged to remain until it clears. We are going to move off as soon as it clears, the day have been very cold, so we have had to remain in our bags, but things are alright and we have got plenty to eat now. We have all retired for the night as the bliz is still raging outside.

22nd February 1912.

The wind went down about 9 P.M., so we began to move and were ready to kick off at 10, and proposed to do the journey in two stages. It was fearful heavy going for the poor dogs, we arranged so that Mr. Evans was on Dimitri's sledge and Doctor and myself was on the other. We have done about half the journey and are now camped for a rest for the dogs and ourselves. We had a stiff 16 miles: the Doctor and myself, we took turns in riding on the sledge and walking and running to keep up to the dogs. Sometimes we sank in up to the knees, but we struggled through it. My legs is the most powerful part of me now, but I am tired and shall be glad when it is over. I must lie down now, as we are starting again soon for Hut Point, but the surface is getting better as we have passed White Island and can see so plainly the land. Castle Rock and good old Erebus look so stately with the smoke rolling out. It is so clear and calm and peaceful. What a change in our surroundings of a few days ago and also our prospects. Doctor and Dimitri have done everything they could for us.

22nd February 1912.

We started off after a rest for the dogs and reached here at Hut Point at 1 P.M. where we can rest in peace for a time. Dimitri and Crean are going to Cape Evans: the ship is nowhere in sight. Have had to get some seal meat and ice and prepare a meal. Mr. Evans is alright and asleep. We are looking for a mail now. How funny we should always be looking for something else, now we are safe.

[End of Lashly's Diary.]

* * * * *

Crean has told me the story of his walk as follows:

He started at 10 on Sunday morning and "the surface was good, very good surface indeed," and he went about sixteen miles before he stopped. Good clear weather. He had three biscuits and two sticks of chocolate. He stopped about five minutes, sitting on the snow, and ate two biscuits and the chocolate, and put one biscuit back in his pocket. He was quite warm and not sleepy.

He carried on just the same and passed Safety Camp on his right some five hours later, and thinks it was about twelve-thirty on Monday morning that he reached the edge of the Barrier, tired, getting cold in the back and the weather coming on thick. It was bright behind him but it was coming over the Bluff, and White Island was obscured though he could still see Cape Armitage and Castle Rock. He slipped a lot on the sea-ice, having several falls on to his back and it was getting thicker all the time. At the Barrier edge there was a light wind, now it was blowing a strong wind, drifting and snowing. He made for the Gap and could not get up at first. To avoid taking a lot out of himself he started to go round Cape Armitage; but soon felt slush coming through his finnesko (he had no crampons) and made back for the Gap. He climbed up to the left of the Gap and climbed along the side of Observation Hill to avoid the slippery ice. When he got to the top it was still clear enough to see vaguely the outline of Hut Point, but he could see no sledges nor dogs. He sat down under the lee of Observation Hill, and finished his biscuit with a bit of ice: "I was very dry,"—slid down the side of Observation Hill and thought at this time there was open water below, for he had no goggles on the march and his eyes were strained. But on getting near the ice-foot he found it was polished sea-ice and made his way round to the hut under the ice-foot. When he got close he saw the dogs and sledges on the sea-ice, and it was now blowing very hard with drift. He walked in and found the Doctor and Dimitri inside. "He gave me a tot first, and then a feed of porridge—but I couldn't keep it down: thats the first time in my life that ever it happened, and it was the brandy that did it."

FOOTNOTES:

[253] See pp. 382, 383, 410, 412.

[254] My own diary, December 22, 1911.

[255] My own diary.

[256] My own diary.

[257] See p. 412.

[258] See p. 335.



CHAPTER XIII

SUSPENSE

All the past we leave behind; We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world; Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labour and the march, Pioneers! O pioneers!

We detachments steady throwing, Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep, Conquering, holding, daring, venturing, as we go, the unknown ways, Pioneers! O pioneers!

WALT WHITMAN.

Let us come back to Cape Evans after the return of the First Supporting Party.

Hitherto our ways had always been happy: for the most part they had been pleasant. Scott was going to reach the Pole, probably without great difficulty, for when we left him on the edge of the plateau he had only to average seven miles a day to go there on full rations. We ourselves had averaged 14.2 geographical miles a day on our way home to One Ton Depot, and there seemed no reason to suppose that the other two parties would not do likewise, and the food was not only sufficient but abundant if such marches were made. Thus we were content as we wandered over the cape, or sat upon some rock warmed by the sun and watched the penguins bathing in the lake which had formed in the sea-ice between us and Inaccessible Island. All round us were the cries of the skua gulls as they squabbled among themselves, and we heard the swish of their wings as they swooped down upon a man who wandered too near their nests. Out upon the sea-ice, which was soggy and dangerous, lay several seal, and the bubblings and whistlings and gurglings which came from their throats chimed musically in contrast to the hoarse aak, aak, of the Adelie penguins: the tide crack was sighing and groaning all the time: it was very restful after the Barrier silence.

Meanwhile the Terra Nova had been seen in the distance, but the state of the sea-ice prevented her approach. It was not until February 4 that communication was opened with her and we got our welcome mails and news of the world during the last year. We heard that Campbell's party had been picked up at Cape Adare and landed at Evans Coves. We started unloading on February 9, and this work was continued until February 14: there was about three miles of ice between the ship and the shore and we were doing more than twenty miles a day. In the case of men who had been sledging much, and who might be wanted to sledge again, this was a mistake. Latterly the ice began to break up, and the ship left on the 15th, to pick up the Geological Party on the western side of McMurdo Sound. But she met great obstacles, and her record near the coasts this year is one of continual fights against pack-ice, while the winds experienced as the season advanced were very strong. On January 13 the fast ice at the mouth of McMurdo Sound extended as far as the southern end of the Bird Peninsula: ten days later they found fast ice extending for thirty miles from the head of Granite Harbour. Later in the season the most determined efforts were made again and again to penetrate into Evans Coves in order to pick up Campbell and his men, until the ice was freezing all round them, and many times the propeller was brought up dead against blocks of ice.[259]

The expedition was originally formed for two years from the date of leaving England. But before the ship left after landing us at Cape Evans in January 1911 the possibility of a third year was considered, and certain requests for additional transport and orders for stores were sent home. Thus it came about that the ship now landed not only new sledges and sledging stores but also fourteen dogs from Kamchatka and seven mules, with their food and equipment. The dogs were big and fat, but the only ones which proved of much service for sledging were Snowy, a nice white dog, and Bullett. It was Oates' idea that mules might prove a better form of transport on the Barrier than ponies. Scott therefore wrote to Sir Douglas Haig, then C.-in-C. in India, that if he failed to reach the Pole in the summer of 1911-12, "it is my intention to make a second attempt in the following season provided fresh transport can be brought down: the circumstances making it necessary to plan to sacrifice the transport animals used in any attempt.

"Before directing more ponies to be sent down I have thoroughly discussed the situation with Captain Oates, and he has suggested that mules would be better than ponies for our work and that trained Indian Transport Mules would be ideal. It is evident already that our ponies have not a uniform walking pace and that in other small ways they will be troublesome to us although they are handy little beasts."

The Indian Government not only sent seven mules but when they arrived we found that they had been most carefully trained and equipped. In India they were in the charge of Lieutenant George Pulleyn, and the care and thought which had been spent upon them could not have been exceeded: the equipment was also extremely good and well adapted to the conditions, while most of the improvements made by us as the result of a year's experience were already foreseen and provided. The mules themselves, by name Lal Khan, Gulab, Begum, Ranee, Abdullah, Pyaree and Khan Sahib, were beautiful animals.

Atkinson would soon have to start on his travels again. Before we left Scott at the top of the Beardmore he gave him orders to take the two dog-teams South in the event of Meares having to return home, as seemed likely. This was not meant in any way to be a relief journey. Scott said that he was not relying upon the dogs; and that in view of the sledging in the following year, the dogs were not to be risked. Although it was settled that some members of the expedition would stay, while others returned to New Zealand, Scott and several of his companions had left undecided until the last moment the question of whether they would themselves remain in the South for another year. In the event of Scott deciding to return home the dog-teams might make the difference between catching or missing the ship. I had discussed this question with Wilson more than once, and he was of opinion that the business affairs of the expedition demanded Scott's return if possible: Wilson himself inclined to the view that he himself would stay if Scott stayed, and return if Scott returned. I think that Oates meant to return, and am sure that Bowers meant to stay: indeed he welcomed the idea of one more year in a way which I do not think was equalled by any other member of the expedition. For the most part we felt that we had joined up for two years, but that if there was to be a third year we would rather see the thing through than return home.

I hope I have made clear that the primary object of this journey with the dog-teams was to hurry Scott and his companions home so that they might be in time to catch the ship if possible, before she was compelled by the close of the season to leave McMurdo Sound. Another thing which made Scott anxious to communicate with the ship if possible before the season forced her to leave the Sound was his desire to send back news. From many remarks which he made, and also from the discussions in the hut during the winter, it was obvious that he considered it was of the first importance that the news of reaching the Pole, if it should be reached, be communicated to the world without the delay of another year. Of course he would also wish to send news of the safe return of his party to wives and relations as soon as possible. It is necessary to emphasize the fact that the dog-teams were intended to hasten the return of the Polar Party, but that they were never meant to form a relief journey.

But now Atkinson was left in a rather difficult position. I note in my diary, after we had reached the hut, that "Scott was to have sent back instructions for the dog party with us, but these have, it would seem, been forgotten"; but it may be that Scott considered that he had given these instructions in a conversation he had with Atkinson at the top of the Beardmore Glacier, when Scott said, "with the depot [of dog-food] which has been laid come as far as you can."

According to the plans for the Polar Journey the food necessary to bring the three advance parties of man-haulers back from One Ton Depot to Hut Point was to be taken out to One Ton during the absence of these parties. This food consisted of five weekly units of what were known as XS rations. It was also arranged that if possible a depot of dog-biscuit should be taken out at the same time: this was the depot referred to above by Scott. In the event of the return of the dog-teams in the first half of December, which was the original plan, the five units of food and the dog-biscuit would have been run out by them to One Ton. If the dog-teams did not return in time to do this a man-hauling party from Cape Evans was to take out three of the five units of food.

It has been shown that the dog-teams were taken farther on the Polar Journey than was originally intended,[260] indeed they were taken from 81 deg. 15', where they were to have turned back, as far as 83 deg. 35'. Nor were they able to make the return journey in the fast time which had been expected of them, and the dog-drivers were running very short of food and were compelled to encroach to some extent upon the supplies left to provide for the wants of those who were following in their tracks.[261] The dog-teams did not arrive back at Cape Evans until January 4.

Meanwhile a man-hauling party from Cape Evans, consisting of Day, Nelson, Clissold and Hooper, had already, according to plan, taken out three of the five XS rations for the returning parties. The weights of the man-hauling party did not allow for the transport of the remaining two XS rations, nor for any of the dog-food. Thus it was that when Atkinson came to make his plans to go South with the dogs he found that there was no dog-food south of Corner Camp, and that the rations for the return of the Polar Party from One Ton Depot had still to be taken out. That is to say, the depot of dog-food spoken of by Scott did not exist. There was, however, enough food already at One Ton to allow the Polar Party to come in on reduced rations. This meant that what the dog-teams could do was limited, and was much less than it might have been had it been possible to take out the depot of dog-food to One Ton. Also the man-food for the Polar Party had to be added to the weights taken by the dogs.

To estimate even approximately at what date a party will reach a given point after a journey of this length when the weather conditions are always uncertain and the number of travelling days unknown, was a most difficult task. The only guide was the average marches per diem made by our own return party, and the average of the second return party if it should return before the dog party set out. A week one way or the other was certainly not a large margin. A couple of blizzards might make this much difference.

In the plan of the Southern Journey Scott, working on Shackleton's averages, mentions March 27 as a possible date of return to Hut Point, allowing seven days in from One Ton. Whilst on the outward journey I heard Scott discuss the possibility of returning in April; and the Polar Party had enough food to allow them to do this on full rations.

Atkinson and Dimitri with the two dog-teams left Cape Evans for Hut Point on February 13 because the sea-ice, which was our only means of communication between these places, and so to the Barrier, was beginning to break up. Atkinson intended to leave Hut Point for the Barrier in about a week's time. At 3.30 A.M. on February 19 Crean arrived with the astounding news that Lieutenant Evans, still alive but at his last gasp, was lying out near Corner Camp, and that Lashly was nursing him; that the Last Supporting Party had consisted of three men only, a possibility which had never been considered; and that they had left Scott, travelling rapidly and making good averages, only 148 geographical miles from the Pole. Scott was so well advanced that it seemed that he would be home much earlier than had been anticipated.

A blizzard which had been threatening on the Barrier, and actually blowing at Hut Point, during Crean's solitary journey, but which had lulled as he arrived, now broke with full force, and nothing could be done for Evans until it took off sufficiently for the dog-teams to travel. But in the meantime Crean urgently wanted food and rest and warmth. As these were supplied to him Atkinson learned bit by bit the story of the saving of Evans' life, told so graphically in Lashly's diary which is given in the preceding chapter, and pieced together the details of Crean's solitary walk of thirty-five statute miles. This effort was made, it should be remembered, at the end of a journey of three and a half months, and over ground rendered especially perilous by crevasses, from which a man travelling alone had no chance of rescue in case of accident. Crean was walking for eighteen hours, and it was lucky for him, as also for his companions, that the blizzard which broke half an hour after his arrival did not come a little sooner, for no power on earth could have saved him then, and the news of Evans' plight would not have been brought.

The blizzard raged all that day, and the next night and morning, and nothing could be done. But during the afternoon of the 20th the conditions improved, and at 4.30 P.M. Atkinson and Dimitri started with the two dog-teams, though it was still blowing hard and very thick. They travelled, with one rest for the dogs, until 4.30 P.M. the next day, but had a very hazy idea where they were most of the time, owing to the vile weather: once at any rate they seem to have got right in under White Island. When they camped the second time they thought they were in the neighbourhood of Lashly's tent, and in a temporary clearance they saw the flag which Lashly had put up on the sledge. Evans was still alive, and Atkinson was able to give him immediately the fresh vegetables, fruit, and seal meat which his body wanted. Atkinson has never been able to express adequately the admiration he feels for Lashly's care and nursing.

All that night and the next day the blizzard continued and made a start impossible, and it was not until 3 A.M. on the morning of the 22nd that they could start for Hut Point, Evans being carried in his sleeping-bag on the sledge. Lashly has told how they got home.

At Cape Evans we knew nothing of these events, which had made reorganization inevitable. It was clear that Atkinson, being the only doctor available, would have to stay with Evans, who was very seriously ill: indeed Atkinson told me that another day, or at the most two, would have finished him. In fact he says that when he first saw him he thought he must die. It was a considerable surprise then when Dimitri with Crean and one dog-team reached Cape Evans about mid-day on February 23 with a note from Atkinson, who said that he thought he had better stay with Lieutenant Evans and that some one else should take out the dogs. He suggested that Wright or myself should take them. This was our first intimation that the dogs had not already gone South.

Wright and I started for Hut Point by 2 P.M. the same day and on our arrival it was decided by Atkinson that I was to take out the dogs. Owing to the early departure of our meteorologist, Simpson, Wright, who had special qualifications for this important work, was to remain at Cape Evans. Dimitri having rested his dog-team overnight at Cape Evans arrived at Hut Point on the morning of the 24th.

Now the daily distance which every 4-man party had to average from Hut Point to its turning-point and back to Hut Point, so as to be on full rations all the way, was only 8.4 geographical miles. From Hut Point to the latitude in which he was last seen, 87 deg. 32' S., Scott had averaged more than ten geographical miles a day.

Taking into consideration the advanced latitude, 87 deg. 32' S., at which the Second Return Party had left Scott, and the extremely good daily averages these two parties had marched on the plateau up to this point, namely 12.3 geographical miles a day; seeing also that the First Return Party had averaged 14.2 geographical miles on their return from 85 deg. 3' S. to One Ton Depot; and the Second Return Party had averaged 11.2 geographical miles on their return from 87 deg. 32' S. to the same place, although one of the three men was seriously ill; it was supposed that all the previous estimates made for the return of the Polar Party were too late, and that the opportunity to reach One Ton Camp before them had been lost. Meanwhile the full rations for their return over the 140 miles (statute) from One Ton to Hut Point were still at Hut Point.

My orders were given me by Atkinson, and were verbal, as follows:

1. To take 24 days' food for the two men, and 21 days' food for the two dog-teams, together with the food for the Polar Party.

2. To travel to One Ton Depot as fast as possible and leave the food there.

3. If Scott had not arrived at One Ton Depot before me I was to judge what to do.

4. That Scott was not in any way dependent on the dogs for his return.

5. That Scott had given particular instructions that the dogs were not to be risked in view of the sledging plans for next season.

Since it had proved impossible to take the depot of dog-food, together with the full Polar Party rations, to One Ton before this; considering the unforeseen circumstances which had arisen; and seeing that this journey of the dog-teams was not indispensable, being simply meant to bring the last party home more speedily, I do not believe that better instructions could have been given than these of Atkinson.

I was eager to start as soon as the team which had come back from Cape Evans was rested, but a blizzard prevented this. On the morning of the 25th it was thick as a hedge, but it cleared enough to pack sledges in the afternoon, and when we turned into our bags we could see Observation Hill. We started at 2 A.M. that night.

I confess I had my misgivings. I had never driven one dog, let alone a team of them; I knew nothing of navigation; and One Ton was a hundred and thirty miles away, out in the middle of the Barrier and away from landmarks. And so as we pushed our way out through the wind and drift that night I felt there was a good deal to be hoped for, rather than to be expected. But we got along very well, Dimitri driving his team in front, as he did most of this journey, and picking up marks very helpfully with his sharp eyes. In the low temperatures we met, the glasses which I must wear are almost impossible, because of fogging. We took three boxes of dog-biscuit from Safety Camp and another three boxes from a point sixteen miles from Hut Point. Here we rested the dogs for a few hours, and started again at 6 P.M. All day the light was appalling, and the wind strong, but to my great relief we found Corner Camp after four hours' more travelling, the flag showing plainly, though the cairn itself was invisible when a hundred yards away. This was the last place where there was any dog-food on the route, and the dogs got a good feed after doing thirty-four miles (statute) for the day's run. This was more than we had hoped: the only disquieting fact was that both the sledge-meters which we had were working wrong: the better of the two seemed however to be marking the total mileage fairly correctly at present, though the hands which indicated more detailed information were quite at sea. We had no minimum thermometer, but the present temperature was -4 deg..

"February 27. Mount Terror has proved our friend to-day, for the slope just above the Knoll has remained clear when everything else was covered, and we have steered by that—behind us. It seemed, when we started in low drift, that we should pick up nothing, but by good luck, or good I don't know what, we have got everything: first the motor, then pony walls at 10 miles, where we stopped and had a cup of tea. I wanted to do 15 miles, but we have done 181/2 miles on the best running surface I have ever seen. After lunch we got a cairn which we could not see twenty yards away after we had reached it, but which we could see for a long way on the southern horizon, against a thin strip of blue sky. We camped just in time to get the tent pitched before a line of drift we saw coming out of the sky hit us. It is now blowing a mild blizzard and drifting. Forty-eight miles in two days is more than I expected: may our luck continue. Dogs pulling very fit and not done up.

"February 28. I had my first upset just after starting, the sledge capsizing on a great sastrugus like the Ramp. Dimitri was a long way ahead and all behind was very thick. I had to unload the sledge for I could not right it alone. Just as I righted it the team took charge. I missed the driving-stick but got on to the sledge with no hope of stopping them, and I was carried a mile to the south, leaving four boxes of dog-food, the weekly bag, cooker, and tent poles on the ground. The team stopped when they reached Dimitri's team, and by then the gear was out of sight. We went back for it, and made good 163/4 miles for the day on a splendid surface. The sun went down at 11.15 (10.15 A.T.), miraged quite flat on top. After he had gone down a great bonfire seemed to blaze out from the horizon. Now -22 deg. and we use a candle for the first time.

"February 29. Bluff Depot. If anybody had told me we could reach Bluff Depot, nearly ninety miles, in four days, I would not have believed it. We have had a good clear day with much mirage. Dogs a bit tired."[262]

The next three days' run took us to One Ton. On the day we left Bluff Depot, which had been made a little more than a year ago, when certain of the ponies were sent home on the Depot Journey,[263] but which no longer contained any provisions, we travelled 12 miles; there was a good light and it was as warm as could be expected in March. The next day (March 2) we did 9 miles after a cold and sleepless night, -24 deg. and a mild blizzard from N.W. and quite thick. On the night of March 3 we reached One Ton, heading into a strongish wind with a temperature of -24 deg.. These were the first two days on which we had cold weather, but it was nothing to worry about for us, and was certainly not colder than one could ordinarily have expected at this time of year.

Arrived at One Ton my first feeling was one of relief that the Polar Party had not been to the Depot and that therefore we had got their provisions out in time. The question of what we were to do in the immediate future was settled for us; for four days out of the six during which we were at One Ton the weather made travelling southwards, that is against the wind, either entirely impossible or such that the chance of seeing another party at any distance was nil. On the two remaining days I could have run a day farther South and back again, with the possibility of missing the party on the way. I decided to remain at the Depot where we were certain to meet.

On the day after we arrived at One Ton (March 4) Dimitri came to me and said that the dogs ought to be given more food, since they were getting done and were losing their coats: they had, of course, done a great deal of sledging already this year. Dimitri had long experience of dog-driving and I had none. I thought and I still think he was right. I increased the dog ration therefore, and this left us with thirteen more days' dog-food, including that for March 4.

The weather was bad when we were at One Ton, for when it was blowing the temperature often remained comparatively low, and when it was not blowing it dropped considerably, and I find readings in my diary of -34 deg. and -37 deg. at 8 P.M. Having no minimum thermometer we did not know the night temperatures. On the other hand I find an entry: "To-day is the first real good one we have had, only about -10 deg. and the sun shining,—and we have shifted the tent, dried our bags and gear a lot, and been pottering about all day." At this time, however, when we were at One Ton I looked upon these conditions as being a temporary cold snap: there was no reason then to suppose these were normal March conditions in the middle of the Barrier, where no one had ever been at this time of year. I believe now they are normal: on the other hand, in our meteorological report Simpson argues that they were abnormal for the Barrier at this time of year.[264]

Since there was no depot of dog-food at One Ton it was not possible to go farther South (except for the one day mentioned above) without killing dogs. My orders on this point were perfectly explicit; I saw no reason for disobeying them, and indeed it appeared that we had been wrong to hurry out so soon, before the time that Scott had reckoned that he would return, and that the Polar Party would really come in at the time Scott had calculated before starting rather than at the time we had reckoned from the data brought back by the Last Return Party.

From the particulars already given it will be seen that I had no reason to suspect that the Polar Party could be in want of food. The Polar Party of five men had according to our rations plenty of food either on their sledge or in the depots. In addition they had a lot of pony meat depoted at Middle Glacier Depot and onwards from there. Though we did not know it, the death of Evans at the foot of the Beardmore Glacier provided an additional amount of food for the four men who were then left. The full amount of oil for this food had been left in the depots; but we know now what we did not know then, that some of it had evaporated. These matters are discussed in greater detail in the account of the return of the Polar Party and after.[265]

Thus I felt little anxiety for the Polar Party. But I was getting anxious about my companion. Soon after arrival at One Ton it was clear that Dimitri was feeling the cold. He complained of his head; then his right arm and side were affected; and from this time onwards he found that he could do less and less with his right side. Still I did not worry much about it, and my decision as to our movements was not affected by this complication. I decided to allow eight days' food for our return, which meant that we must start on March 10.

"March 10. Pretty cold night: -33 deg. when we turned out at 8 A.M. Getting our gear together, and the dogs more or less into order after their six days was cold work, and we started in minus thirties and a head wind. The dogs were mad,—stark, staring lunatics. Dimitri's team wrecked my sledge-meter, and I left it lying on the ground a mile from One Ton. All we could do was to hang on to the sledge and let them go: there wasn't a chance to go back, turn them or steer them. Dimitri broke his driving-stick: my team fought as they went: once I was dragged with my foot pinned under my driving-stick, which was itself jammed in the grummet: several times I only managed to catch on anywhere: this went on for six or seven miles, and then they got better."[266]

Our remaining sledge-meter was quite unreliable, but following our outward tracks (for it became thick and overcast), and judging by our old camping sites, we reckoned that we had done an excellent run of 23 to 24 miles (statute) for the day. The temperature when we camped was only -14 deg.. However it became much colder in the night, and when we turned out it was so thick that I decided we must wait. At 2 P.M. on March 11 there was one small patch of blue sky showing, and we started to steer by this: soon it was blowing a mild blizzard, and we stopped after doing what I reckoned was eight miles, steering by trying to keep the wind on my ear: but I think we were turning circles much of the time. It blew hard and was very cold during the night, and we turned out on the morning of March 12 to a blizzard with a temperature of -33 deg.: this gradually took off, and at 10 A.M. Dimitri said he could see the Bluff, and we were right into the land, and therefore the pressure. This was startling, but later it cleared enough to reassure me, though Dimitri was so certain that during the first part of our run that day I steered east a lot. We did 25 to 30 miles this day in drift and a temperature of -28 deg..

By now I was becoming really alarmed and anxious about Dimitri, who seemed to be getting much worse, and to be able to do less and less. Sitting on a sledge the next day with a head wind and the temperature -30 deg. was cold. The land was clear when we turned out and I could see that we must be far outside our course, but almost immediately it became foggy. We made in towards the land a good deal, and made a good run, but owing to the sledge-meter being useless and the bad weather generally during the last few days, I had a very hazy idea indeed where we were when we camped, having been steering for some time by the faint gleam of the sun through the mist. Just after camping Dimitri suddenly pointed to a black spot which seemed to wave to and fro: we decided that it was the flag of the derelict motor near Corner Camp which up to that time I thought was ten to fifteen miles away: this was a great relief, and we debated packing up again and going to it, but decided to stay where we were.

It was fairly clear on the morning of March 14, which was lucky, for it was now obvious that we were miles from Corner Camp and much too near the land. The flag we had seen must have been a miraged piece of pressure, and it was providential that we had not made for it, and found worse trouble than we actually experienced. Try all I could that morning, my team, which was leading, insisted on edging westwards. At last I saw what I thought was a cairn, but found out just in time that it was a haycock or mound of ice formed by pressure: by its side was a large open crevasse, of which about fifty yards of snow-bridge had fallen in. For several miles we knew that we were crossing big crevasses by the hollow sound, and it was with considerable relief that I sighted the motor and then Corner Camp some two or three miles to the east of us. "Dimitri had left his Alpine rope there, and also I should have liked to have brought in Evans' sledge, but it would have meant about five miles extra, and I left it. I hope Scott, finding no note, will not think we are lost."[267]

Dimitri seemed to be getting worse, and we pushed on until we camped that night only fifteen miles from Hut Point. My main anxiety was whether the sea-ice between us and Hut Point was in, because I felt that the job of getting the teams up on to the Peninsula and along it and down the other side would be almost more than we could do: there was an ominous open-water sky ahead.

On March 15 we were held up all day by a strong blizzard. But by 8 A.M. the next morning we could see just the outline of White Island. I was very anxious, for Dimitri said that he had nearly fainted, and I felt that we must get on somehow, and chance the sea-ice being in. He stayed inside the tent as long as possible, and my spirits rose as the land began to clear all round while I was packing up both sledges. From Safety Camp the mirage at the edge of the Barrier was alarming, but as we approached the edge to my very great relief I found that the sea-ice was still in, and that what we had taken for frost smoke was only drift over Cape Armitage.

Pushing into the drift round the corner I found Atkinson on the sea-ice, and Keohane in the hut behind. In a few minutes we had the gist of one another's news. The ship had made attempt after attempt to reach Campbell and his five men, but they had not been taken off from Evans Coves when she finally left McMurdo Sound on March 4: she would make another effort on her way to New Zealand. Evans was better and was being taken home. Meanwhile there were four of us at Hut Point and we could not communicate with our companions at Cape Evans until the Sound froze over, for the open sea was washing the feet of Vince's Cross.

* * * * *

We were not unduly alarmed about the Polar Party at present, but began to make arrangements for further sledging if necessary. It was useless to think of taking the dogs again for they were thoroughly done. The mules and the new dogs were at Cape Evans. "In four or five days Atkinson wishes to start South again to see what we can do man-hauling, if the Polar Party is not in. I agree with him that to try and go west to meet Campbell is useless just now. If we can go north, they can come south, and to put two parties there on the new sea-ice is to double the risk."

"March 17. A blizzard day but only about force 5-6. I think they will have been able to travel all right on the Barrier. Atkinson thinks of starting on the 22nd: my view is that allowing three weeks and four days for the Summit, and ten days for being hung up by weather, we can give them five weeks after the Last Return Party (i.e. to March 26) to get in, having been quite safe and sound all the way. We feel anxious now, but I do not think there is need for alarm till then, and they might get in well after that, and be all right.

"Now our only real chance of finding them, if we go out, is from here to ten miles south of Corner Camp. After that we shall do all we can, but it would be no good, because there is no very definite route. Therefore I would start out on March 27, when we would travel that part with most chance of meeting them there if they have any trouble. I have put this to Atkinson and will willingly do what he decides. I am feeling pretty done up, and have rested. The prospect of what will be a hard journey, feeling as I do, is rather bad. I don't think there is really cause for alarm."

"March 18 and 19. We are very anxious, though the Pole Party could not be in yet. Also I am very done, and more so than I at first thought: I am afraid it is a bit doubtful whether I can get out again yet, but to-day I feel better and have been for a short walk. I am taking all the rest I can."

"March 20. Last night a very strong blizzard blew, wind force 9 and big snowfall and drift. This morning the doors and windows are all drifted up, and we could hardly get out: a lot of snow had got inside the hut also: I was feeling rotten, and thought that to go out and clear the window and door would do me good. This I did, but came back in a big squall, passing Atkinson as I came in. Then I felt myself going faint, and remember pushing the door to get in if possible. I knew no more until I came to on the floor just inside the door, having broken some tendons in my right hand in falling."[268]

Two days afterwards the dogs sang at breakfast-time: they often did this when a party was approaching, even when it was still far away, and they had done so when Crean came in on his walk from Corner Camp. We were cheered by the noise. But no party arrived, and the singing of the dogs was explained later by some seal appearing on the new ice in Arrival Bay. Atkinson decided to go out on to the Barrier man-hauling with Keohane on the 26th. It was obvious that I could not go with them: he told me afterwards that when I came in with the dog-teams he was sure I could not go out again.

"March 25. The wind came away yesterday evening, first S.W. and then S.E. but not bad, though very thick. It was a surprise to find we could see the Western Mountains this morning, and I believe it has been a good day on the Barrier, though it is still blowing with low drift this evening. We are now on the days when I expect the Polar Party in: pray God I may be right. Atkinson and I look at one another, and he looks, and I feel, quite haggard with anxiety. He says he does not think they have scurvy. We both, I think, feel quite comfortable, in comparison, about Campbell: he only wants to exercise care, and his great care was almost a byword on the ship. They are fresh and they have plenty of seal.[269] He discussed with Pennell both the possibility of shipwreck and that of the ship being unable to get to him, and for this reason landed an extra month's rations as a depot; also he contemplated the idea of living on seal. He knows of the Butter Point Depot, and knows that a party has been sledging in that neighbourhood: though he does not know of the depots they left at Cape Roberts and Cape Bernacchi, they are right out on the Points and Taylor says he could not miss them on his way down the coast."[270]

This day Atkinson thought he saw Campbell's party coming in, and the next day Keohane and Dimitri came in great excitement and said they could see them, and we were out on the Point and on the sea-ice in the drift for quite a long time. "Last night we had turned in about two hours when five or six knocks were hit on the little window over our heads. Atkinson shouted 'Hullo!' and cried, 'Cherry, they're in.' Keohane said, 'Who's cook?' Some one lit a candle and left it in the far corner of the hut to give them light, and we all rushed out. But there was no one there. It was the nearest approach to ghost work that I have ever heard, and it must have been a dog which sleeps in that window. He must have shaken himself, hitting the window with his tail. Atkinson thought he heard footsteps!"[271]

On Wednesday, March 27, Atkinson started out on to the Barrier with one companion, Keohane. During the whole of this trip the temperatures were low, and both men obtained but little sleep, finding of course that a tent occupied by two men only is a very cold place. The first two days they made nine miles each day, on March 29 they pushed on in thick weather for eleven miles, when the weather cleared enough to show them that they had got into the White Island pressure. On March 30 they reached a point south of Corner Camp, when "taking into consideration the weather, and temperatures, and the time of the year, and the hopelessness of finding the party except at any definite point like a depot, I decided to return from here. We depoted the major portion of a week's provisions to enable them to communicate with Hut Point in case they should reach this point. At this date in my own mind I was morally certain that the party had perished, and in fact on March 29 Captain Scott, 11 miles south of One Ton Depot, made the last entry in his diary."[272]

"They arrived back on April 1. Yesterday evening at 6.30 P.M. Atkinson and Keohane arrived. It was pretty thick here and blowing too, but they had had a fair day on the Barrier. They had been out to Corner Camp and eight miles farther. Their bags were bad, their clothes very bad after six days: they must have had minus forties constantly. It is a moral certainty that to go farther south would serve no purpose, and for two men would be a useless risk. They did quite right to come back. They are much in want of sleep, poor devils, and I do hope Atkinson will allow himself to rest: he looks as though he might knock up. Keohane did well, and is very fit. They came in over fifteen miles yesterday, and have brought in the sledge of the Second Return Party, the one they took out being very heavy pulling. They had no day on which they could not travel. Here it has been blowing and drifting half the time he has been absent," and a few days later, "We have got to face it now. The Pole Party will not in all probability ever get back. And there is no more that we can do. The next step must be to get to Cape Evans as soon as it is possible. There are fresh men there: at any rate fresh compared to us."[273]

* * * * *

Atkinson was the senior officer left, and unless Campbell and his party came in, the command of the Main Party devolved upon him. It was not a position which any one could envy even if he had been fresh and fit. Amidst all his anxieties and responsibilities he looked after me with the greatest patience and care. I was so weak that sometimes I could only keep on my legs with difficulty: the glands of my throat were swollen so that I could hardly speak or swallow: my heart was strained and I had considerable pain. At such a time I was only a nuisance, but nothing could have exceeded his kindness and his skill with the few drugs which we possessed.

Again and again in these days some one would see one or other of the missing parties coming in. It always proved to be mirage, a seal or pressure or I do not know what, but never could we quite persuade ourselves that these excitements might not have something in them, and every time hope sprang up anew. Meanwhile the matter of serious importance was the state of the ice in the bays between us and Cape Evans: we must get help. All the ice in the middle of the Sound was swept out by the winds of March 30 to April 2, and on the following day Atkinson climbed Arrival Heights to see how the remaining ice looked. The view over the Sound from here is shown in the frontispiece to this book. "The ice in the two bays to Cape Evans is quite new—formed this morning, I suppose, with the rest that is in the Sound. There are open leads between Glacier Tongue and Cape Evans, inside the line joining the ends of the two. There is a big berg in between Glacier Tongue and the Islands, and also a flat one off Cape Evans."[274]

We had some good freezing days after this, and on April 5 "we tried the ice this afternoon. It is naturally slushy and salt, but some hundred yards from the old ice it is six inches thick: probably it averages about this thickness all over the Sound."[275] Then we had a hard blizzard, on the fourth day of which it was possible to get up the Heights again and see for some distance. As far as could be judged the ice in the two bays had remained firm: these bays are those formed on either side of Glacier Tongue, by the Hut Point Peninsula on the south, and by Cape Evans and the islands on the north.

On April 10 Atkinson, Keohane and Dimitri started for Cape Evans, meaning to travel along the Peninsula to the Hutton Cliffs, and thence to cross the sea-ice in these bays, if it proved to be practicable. The amount of daylight was now very restricted, and the sun would disappear for the winter a week hence. Arrived at the Hutton Cliffs, where it was blowing as usual, they lost no time in lowering themselves and their sledge on to the sea-ice, and were then pleasantly surprised to find how slippery it was. "We set sail before a strong following breeze and, all sitting on the sledge, had reached the Glacier Tongue in twenty minutes. We clambered over the Tongue, and, our luck and the breeze still holding, we reached Cape Evans, completing the last seven miles, all sitting on the sledge, in an hour."



"There I called together all the members and explained the situation, telling them what had been done, and what I then proposed to do; also asking them for their advice in this trying time. The opinion was almost unanimous that all that was possible had been already done. Owing to the lateness of the year, and the likelihood of our being unable to make our way up the coast to Campbell, one or two members suggested that another journey might be made to Corner Camp. Knowing the conditions which had lately prevailed on the Barrier, I took it upon myself to decide the uselessness of this."[276]

All was well at Cape Evans. Winds and temperatures had both been high, the latter being in marked contrast to the low temperatures we had experienced at Hut Point, which averaged as much as 15 deg. lower than those that were recorded in the previous year. The seven mules were well, but three of the new dogs had died: we were always being troubled by that mysterious disease.

Before she left for New Zealand the following members of our company joined the ship: Simpson, who had to return to his work in India; Griffith Taylor, who had been lent to us by the Australian Government for only one year; Ponting, whose photographic work was done; Day, whose work with the motors was done; Meares, who was recalled by family affairs; Forde, whose hand had never recovered the effects of frost-bite during the spring; Clissold, who fell off a berg and concussed himself; and Anton, whose work with the ponies was done. Lieutenant Evans was invalided home.

Archer had been landed to take Clissold's place as cook; another seaman, Williamson, was landed to take Forde's place, and of our sledging companions he was the only fresh man. Wright was probably the most fit after him, and otherwise we had no one who, under ordinary circumstances, would have been considered fit to go out sledging again this season, especially at a time when the sun was just leaving us for the winter. We were sledged out.

The next few days were occupied in making preparations for a further sledge journey, and on April 13 a party started to return to Hut Point by the Hutton Cliffs. Atkinson, Wright, Keohane and Williamson were to try and sledge up the western coast to help Campbell: Gran and Dimitri were to stay with me at Hut Point. The surface of the sea-ice was now extremely slushy and bad for pulling; the ice had begun to extrude its salt. A blizzard started in their faces, and they ran for shelter to the lee of Little Razorback Island. The weather clearing they pushed on to the Glacier Tongue, and camped there for the night somewhat frost-bitten. Some difficulty was experienced the next morning in climbing the ice-cliff on to the Peninsula, but Atkinson, using his knife as a purchase, and the sledge held at arm's-length by four men as a ladder, succeeded eventually in getting a foothold.

Meanwhile I was left alone at Hut Point, where blizzards raged periodically with the usual creakings and groanings of the old hut. Foolishly I accompanied my companions, when they started for Cape Evans, as far as the bottom of Ski Slope. When I left them I found I could not keep my feet on the slippery snow and ice patches, and I had several nasty falls, in one of which I gave my shoulder a twist. It was this shaking combined with the rather desperate conditions which caused a more acute state of illness and sickness than I had experienced for some time. Some of those days I remained alone at Hut Point I was too weak to do more than crawl on my hands and knees about the hut. I had to get blubber from the door to feed the fire, and chop up seal-meat to eat, to cook, and to tend the dogs, some of whom were loose, while most of them were tied in the verandah, or between the hut door and Vince's Cross. The hut was bitterly cold with only one man in it: had there not been some morphia among the stores brought down from Cape Evans I do not know what I should have done.

The dogs realized that they could take liberties which they would not have dared to do in different circumstances. They whined and growled, and squabbled amongst themselves all the time, day and night. Seven or eight times one day I crawled across the floor to try and lay my hands upon one dog who was the ringleader. I was sure it was Dyk, but never detected him in the act, and though I thrashed him with difficulty as a speculation, the result was not encouraging. I would willingly have killed the lot of them just then, I am ashamed to say. I lay in my sleeping-bag with the floor of the hut falling from me, or its walls disappearing in the distance and coming back: and roused myself at intervals to feed blubber to the stove. I felt as though I had been delivered out of hell when the relief party arrived on the night of April 14. I had been alone four days, and I think a few more days would have sent me off my head. Not the least welcome of the things they had brought me were my letters, copies of the Weekly Times, a pair of felt shoes and a comb!

Atkinson's plan was to start on April 7 over the old sea-ice which lay to the south and south-west of us: he was to take with him Wright, Keohane and Williamson, and they wanted to reach Butter Point, and thence to sledge up the western coast. If the sea-ice was in, and Campbell was sledging down upon it, they hoped to meet him and might be of the greatest assistance to him. Even if they did not meet him they could mark more obviously certain depots, of which he had no knowledge, left by our own geological parties on the route he must follow. As I have already mentioned, these were on Cape Roberts, off Granite Harbour, and on Cape Bernacchi, north of New Harbour: there was also a depot at Butter Point, but Campbell already knew of this. They could also leave instructions to this effect at points where he would be likely to see them. There was no question that there was grave risk in this journey. Not only was the winter approaching, and the daylight limited, but the sea-ice over which they must march was most dangerous. Sea-ice is always forming and being blown out to sea, or just floating away on the tide at this time of year. The amount of old ice which had remained during the summer was certain to be limited: the new ice was thin and might take them out with it at any time. However, what could be done had to be done.

Before they left certain signals by means of rockets and Very lights were arranged, to be sent up by us at Hut Point if Campbell arrived: signals had also been arranged between Hut Point and Cape Evans in view of certain events. We did not have, but I think we ought to have had some form of portable heliograph for communications between Hut Point and Cape Evans when the sun was up and some kind of lamp signal apparatus to use during the winter.

They started at 10.30 A.M. on Wednesday, April 17. The sun was now only just peeping over the northern horizon at mid-day, and would disappear entirely in six more days, though of course there was a long twilight as yet. For fresh men on old sea-ice it would not have been an easy venture: for worn-out men on a coast where the ice was probably freezing and blowing out at odd times it was very brave.

They had hard pulling their first two days, and the minimum temperature for the corresponding nights was -43 deg. and -45 deg.. Consequently they soon began to be iced up. On the other hand they found old sea-ice and made good some 25 miles, camping on the evening of the 18th about four miles from the Eskers. Next morning they had to venture upon newly frozen ice, and a blizzard wind was blowing. They crossed the four miles from their night camp to the Eskers, glad enough to reach land the other side without the ice going to sea with them. They then turned towards the Butter Point Depot, but were compelled to camp owing to the blizzard which came on with full force. The rise in temperature to zero caused a general thaw of sleeping-bags and clothing which dried but little when the sun had no power. On the following morning they reached the Butter Point Depot, which they found with difficulty, for there was no flag standing. Even as they struck their camp they saw the ice to the north of them breaking up and going out to sea. There was nothing to do but to turn back, for neither could they go north to Campbell nor could Campbell come south to them. Wright now told Atkinson how much he had been opposed to this journey all along: "he had come on this trip fully believing that there was every possibility of the party being lost, but had never demurred and never offered a contrary opinion, and one cannot be thankful enough to such men."[277] They made up the Butter Point Depot, marked it as well as they could in case Campbell should arrive there, and left two weeks' provisions for him. They could do no more.