We sighted our first iceberg in latitude 62 degrees on the evening of Wednesday, December 7. Cheetham's squeaky hail came down from aloft and I went up to the crow's-nest to look at it, and from this time on we passed all kinds of icebergs, from the huge tabular variety to the little weathered water-worn bergs. Some we steamed quite close to and they seemed for all the world like great masses of sugar floating in the sea.
From latitudes 60 to 63 degrees we saw a fair number of birds: southern fulmars, whale birds, molly-mawks, sooty albatrosses, and occasionally Cape-pigeons still. Then the brown-backed petrels began to appear, sure precursors of the pack ice—it was in sight right enough the day after the brown-backs were seen. By breakfast time on December 9, when nearly in latitude 65 degrees, we were steaming through thin streams of broken pack with floes from six to twelve feet across. A few penguins and seals were seen, and by 10 a.m. no less than twenty-seven icebergs in sight. The newcomers to these regions were clustered in little groups on the forecastle and poop sketching and painting, hanging over the bows and gleefully watching this lighter stuff being brushed aside by our strong stem.
We were passing through pack all day, but the ice hereabouts was not close enough nor heavy enough to stop us appreciably. The ship was usually conned by Pennell and myself from the crow's-nest, and I took the ship very near one berg for Ponting to cinematograph it. We now began to see snow petrels with black beaks and pure white bodies, rather resembling doves. Also we saw great numbers of brown-backed petrels the first day in the pack, whole flights of them resting on the icebergs. The sun was just below the horizon at midnight and we had a most glorious sunset, which was first a blazing copper changing to salmon pink and then purple. The pools of water between the floes caught the reflection, the sea was perfectly still and every berg and ice-floe caught something of the delicate colour. Wilson, of course, was up and about till long after midnight sketching and painting. The Antarctic pack ice lends itself to water-colour work far better than to oils.
When conning the ship from up in the crow's-nest one has a glorious view of this great changing ice-field. Moving through lanes of clear blue water, cannoning into this floe and splitting it with iron-bound stem, overriding that and gnawing off a twenty ton lump, gliding south, east, west, through leads of open water, then charging an innocent-looking piece which brings the ship up all-standing, astern and ahead again, screwing and working the wonderful wooden ship steadily southward until perhaps two huge floes gradually narrow the lane and hold the little lady fast in their frozen grip.
This is the time to wait and have a look round: on one side floes the size of a football field, all jammed together, with their torn up edges showing their limits and where the pressure is taken. Then three or four bergs, carved from the distant Barrier, imprisoned a mile or so away, with the evening sun's soft rays casting beautiful shadows about them and kissing their glistening cliff faces.
Glancing down from the crow's-nest the ship throws deep shadows over the ice and, while the sun is just below the southern horizon, the still pools of water show delicate blues and greens that no artist can ever do justice to. It is a scene from fairyland.
I loved this part of the voyage, for I was in my element. At odd times during the night, if one can call it night, the crow's-nest would have visitors, and hot cocoa would be sent up in covered pots by means of signal halyards. The pack ice was new to all the ship's officers except myself, but they soon got into the way of conning and working through open water leads and, as time went on, distinguished the thinner ice from the harder and more dangerous stuff.
On December 10 we stopped the ship and secured her to a heavy floe from which we took in sufficient ice to make eight tons of fresh water, and whilst doing this Rennick sounded and obtained bottom in 1964 fathoms, fora-minifera and decomposed skeleton unicellular organs, also two pieces of black basic lava. Lillie and Nelson took plankton and water bottle samples to about 280 fathoms. A few penguins came round and a good many crab-eater seals were seen. In the afternoon we got under way again and worked for about eight miles through the pack, which was gradually becoming denser. About 2:30 p.m. I saw from the crow's-nest four seals on a floe. I slid down a backstay, and whilst the officer on watch worked the ship close to them, I got two or three others with all our firearms and shot the lot from the forecastle head. We had seal liver for dinner that night; one or two rather turned up their noses at it, but, as Scott pointed out, the time would come when seal liver would be a delicacy to dream about.
Campbell did not do much conning except in the early morning, as his executive duties kept him well occupied. The Polar sledge journey had its attractions, but Campbell's party were to have interesting work and were envied by many on board. For reasons which need not here be entered into Campbell had to abandon the King Edward VII. Land programme, but in these days his mob were known as the Eastern Party, to consist of the Wicked Mate, Levick, and Priestley, with three seamen, Abbott, Browning, and Dickason. Campbell had the face of an angel and the heart of a hornet. With the most refined and innocent smile he would come up to me and ask whether the Eastern Party could have a small amount of this or that luxury. Of course I would agree, and sure enough Bowers would tell me that Campbell had already appropriated a far greater share than he was ever entitled to of the commodity in question. This happened again and again, but the refined smile was irresistible and I am bound to say the Wicked Mate generally got away with it, for even Bowers, the incomparable, was bowled over by that smile.
We crossed the Antarctic Circle on the morning of the 10th, little dreaming in those happy days that the finest amongst us would never recross it again.
We took a number of deep-sea soundings, several of over 2000 fathoms, on this first southward voyage. Rennick showed himself very expert with the deep-sea gear and got his soundings far more easily than we had done in the "Discovery" and "Morning" days.
We were rather unfortunate as regards the pack ice met with, and must have passed through 400 miles of it from north to south. On my two previous voyages we had had easier conditions altogether, and then it had not mattered, but all with these dogs and ponies cooped up and losing condition, with the "Terra Nova" eating coal and sixty hungry men scoffing enormous meals, we did not seem to be doing much or getting on with the show. It was, of course, nobody's fault, but our patience was sorely tried.
We made frequent stops in the pack ice, even letting fires out and furling sail, and sometimes the ice would be all jammed up so that not a water hole was visible—this condition would continue for days. Then, for no apparent reason, leads would appear and black water-skies would tempt us to raise steam again. Scott himself showed an admirable patience, for the rest of us had something to occupy our time with. Pennell and I, for instance, were constantly taking sights and working them out to find our position and also to get the set and drift of the current. Then there were magnetic observations to be taken on board and out on the ice away from the magnetic influence of the ship, such as it was. Simpson had heaps to busy himself with, and Ponting was here, there, and everywhere with his camera and cinematograph machine. Had it not been for our anxiety to make southward progress, the time would have passed pleasantly enough, especially in fine weather. Days came when we could get out on the floe and exercise on ski, and Gran zealously looked to all our requirements in this direction.
December 11 witnessed the extraordinary sight of our company standing bareheaded on deck whilst Captain Scott performed Divine Service. Two hymns were sung, which broke strangely the great white silence. The weather was against us this day in that we had snow, thaw, and actually rain, but we could not complain on the score of weather conditions generally. Practically all the ship's company exercised on the floes while we remained fast frozen. Next day there was some slight loosening of the pack and we tried sailing through it and managed half a degree southward in the forty-eight hours. We got along a few miles here and there, but when ice conditions continued favourable for making any serious advance it was better to light up and push our way onward with all the power we could command. We got some heavy bumps on the 13th December and as this hammering was not doing the ship much good, since I was unable to make southing then at a greater rate than one mile an hour, we let fires right out and prepared, as Captain Scott said, "To wait till the clouds roll by." For the next few days there was not much doing nor did we experience such pleasant weather.
Constant visits were made to the crow's-nest in search of a way through. December 16 and 17 were two very gray days with fresh wind, snow, and some sleet. Affectionate memories of Captain Colbeck and the little relief ship, "Morning," came back when the wind soughed and whistled through the rigging: This sound is most uncanny and the ice always seemed to exaggerate any noise.
I hated the overcast days in the pack. It was bitterly cold in the crow's-nest however much one put on then, and water skies often turned out to be nimbus clouds after we had laboured and cannoned towards them. The light, too, tired and strained one's eyes far more than on clear days.
When two hundred miles into the pack the ice varied surprisingly. We would be passing through ice a few inches thick and then suddenly great floes four feet above the water and twelve to fifteen feet deep would be encountered. December 18 saw us steaming through tremendous leads of open water. A very funny occurrence was witnessed in the evening when the wash of the ship turned a floe over under water and on its floating back a fish was left stranded. It was a funny little creature, nine inches in length, a species of notathenia. Several snow petrels and a skua-gull made attempts to secure the fish, but the afterguard kept up such a chorus of cheers, hoots and howls that the birds were scared away till one of us secured the fish from the floe.
Early on the 19th we passed close to a large iceberg which had a shelving beach like an island. We began to make better progress to the south-westward and worked into a series of open leads. We came across our first emperor penguin, a young one, and two sea-leopards, besides crab-eater seals, many penguins, some giant petrels, and a Wilson petrel. That afternoon tremendous pieces of ice were passed; they were absolutely solid and regular floes, being ten to twelve feet above water and, as far as one could judge, about 50 feet below. The water here was beautifully clear.
We had now reached latitude 68 degrees and, as penguins were plentiful, Archer and Clissold, the cooks, made us penguin stews and "hooshes" to eke out our fresh provisions. Concerning the penguins, they frequently came and inspected the ship. One day Wilson and I chased some, but they continually kept just out of our reach; then Uncle Bill lay down on the snow, and when one, out of curiosity, came up to him he grabbed it by the leg and brought it to the ship, protesting violently, for all the world like a little old man in a dinner jacket. Atkinson and Wilson found a new kind of tapeworm in this penguin, with a head like a propeller. This worm has since been named after one of us!
We were now down to under 300 tons of coal, some of which had perforce to be landed, in addition to the 30 tons of patent fuel which were under the forward stores. I had no idea that Captain Scott could be so patient. He put the best face on everything, although he certainly was disappointed in the "Terra Nova" and her steaming capacity. He could not well have been otherwise when comparing her with his beloved "Discovery." Whilst in the pack our leader spent his time in getting hold of the more detailed part of our scientific programme and mildly tying the scientists in knots.
We had some good views of whales in the pack. Whenever a whale was sighted Wilson was called to identify it unless it proved to belong to one of the more common species. We saw Sibbald's whale; Rorquals, and many killer whales, but no Right whales were properly identified this trip.
I very much wanted to show Scott the island we had discovered in the first Antarctic Relief Expedition and named after him, but when in its vicinity snow squalls and low visibility prevented this.
On the 22nd Bowers, Wright, Griffith Taylor and myself chased a lot of young penguins on the ice and secured nine for our Christmas dinner. We spent a very pleasant Christmas this year, devoting great attention to food. We commenced the day with kidneys from our frozen meat store. Captain Scott conducted the Christmas church service and all hands attended since we had no steam up and were fast held in the pack. The ward-room was decorated with our sledge flags and a new blue tablecloth generally brightened up our Mess. We had fresh mutton for lunch and the seamen had their Christmas dinner at this time. The afterguard dined at 6.30 on fresh penguin, roast beef, plum pudding, mince pies, and asparagus, while we had champagne, port, and liqueurs to drink and an enormous box of Fry's fancy chocolates for dessert. This "mortal gorge" was followed by a sing-song lasting until midnight, nearly every one, even the most modest, contributing. Around the Christmas days we made but insignificant headway, only achieving thirty-one miles in the best part of the week, but on the 29th the floes became thin and the ice showed signs of recent formation, though intermingled with heavier floes of old and rotten ice. There was much diatomacea in the rotten floes. About 2.40 a.m. the ship broke through into a lead of open water six miles in length.
I spent the middle watch in the crow's-nest, Bowers being up there with me talking over the Expedition, his future and mine. He was a wonderful watch companion, especially when he got on to his favourite subject, India. He had some good tales to tell of the Persian Gulf, of days and weeks spent boat-cruising, of attacks made on gun-running dhows and kindred adventure. He told me that one dhow was boarded while he was up the Gulf, when the Arabs, waiting until most of the boat's crew of bluejackets were on board, suddenly let go the halyards of their great sail and let it down crash over the lot, the boom breaking many heads and the sail burying our seamen, while the Arabs got to work and practically scuppered the crowd.
Soon after 4 a.m. I went below and turned in, confident that we were nearing the southern extreme of the pack. Captain Scott awoke when I went into the cabin, pleased at the prospect, but after so many adverse ice conditions he shook his head, unwilling to believe that we should get clear yet awhile. I bet him ten sardine sandwiches that we should be out of the pack by noon on the 30th, and when I turned out at 8 o'clock I was delighted to find the ship steaming through thin floes and passing into a series of great open water leads. By 6 p.m. on the 29th a strong breeze was blowing, snow was falling, and we were punching along under steam and sail. Sure enough we got out of the pack early on the 30th and, cracking on all our canvas, were soon doing eight knots with a following wind.
Later in the day the wind headed us with driving snow, fine rain, and, unfortunately, a considerable head swell. This caused the ship to pitch so badly that the ponies began to give trouble again. Oates asked for the speed to be reduced, but we got over this by setting fore and aft sail and keeping the ship's head three or four points off the wind. New Year's Eve gave us another anxious time, for we encountered a hard blow from the S.S.E. It was necessary to heave the ship to most of the day under bare poles with the engines just jogging to keep the swell on her bow. A thin line of pack ice was sighted in the morning and this turned out to be quite a blessing in disguise, for I took the ship close to the edge of it and skirted along to leeward. The ice formed a natural break-water and damped the swell most effectually. The swell and sea in the open would have been too much for the ponies as it must be remembered that they had been in their stalls on board for five weeks.
We had now reached the Continental Shelf, the depth of water had changed from 1111 fathoms on the 30th to 180 fathoms this day. The biologists took advantage of our jogging along in the open water to trawl, but very few specimens were obtained. At midnight the "youth of the town" made the devil of a din by striking sixteen bells, blowing whistles on the siren, hooting with the foghorn, cheering and singing. What children we were, but what matter!
1911 came like the opening of a new volume of an exciting book. This was the year in which Scott hoped to reach the Pole, the ideal date he had given being December 21. This was the year that Campbell and his party were looking forward to so eagerly—if only they could be successful in landing their gear and equipment in King Edward VII. Land—and, for the less showy but more scientific sledgers, 1911 held a wealth of excitement in store. Griffith Taylor and Debenham knew pretty well that next New Year's Day would see them in the midst of their Western journey with the secrets of those rugged mountains revealed perhaps. I do not know what my own feelings were, it would be impossible to describe them. I read up part of Shackleton's diary and something of what his companion Wilde had written. Just this:
12miles, 200yards.—1/1/08.
"Started usual time. Quan (pony) got through the forenoon fairly well with assistance, but after lunch the poor chap broke down and we had to take him out of harness. Shackleton, Adams, and Marshall dragged his sledge, and I brought the ponies along with the other load. As soon as we camped I gave Quan the bullet, and Marshall and I cut him up. He was a tough one. I am cook this week with Marshall as my tent mate."
The more one read into Shackleton's story the more wonderful it all seemed, and with our resources failure appeared impossible—yet that telegram which Captain Scott had received at Melbourne:
"Beg leave to inform you proceeding Antarctic.——AMUNDSEN."
We all knew that Amundsen had no previous Antarctic sledging experience, but no one could deny that to Norwegians ice-work, and particularly ski-ing, was second nature, and here lay some good food for thought and discussion. Where would the "Fram" enter the pack? Where would Amundsen make his base? The answers never once suggested anything like the truth.
Actually on New Year's Day Amundsen was between 500 and 600 miles north of us, but of Roald Amundsen more anon.
How strange to be once more in open water, able to steer whatever course we chose, with broad daylight all night, and at noon only a couple of days' run from Cape Crozier. Practically no ice in sight, but a sunlit summer sea in place of the pack, with blue sky and cumulo stratus clouds, so different from the gray, hard skies that hung so much over the great ice field we had just forced. The wind came fair as the day wore on and by 10 p.m. we were under plain sail, doing a good six knots. High mountains were visible to the west-ward, part of the Admiralty Range, two splendid peaks to be seen towering above the remainder, which appeared to be Mounts Sabine and Herschell. Coulman Island was seen in the distance during the day.
What odd thrills the sight of the Antarctic Continent sent through most of us. Land was first sighted late on New Year's Eve and I think everybody had come on deck at the cry "Land oh!" To me those peaks always did and always will represent silent defiance; there were times when they made me shudder, but it is good to have looked upon them and to remember them in those post-War days of general discontent, for they remind me of the four Antarctic voyages which I have made and of the unanimous goodwill that obtained in each of the little wooden ships which were our homes for so long. How infinitely distant those towering mountains seemed and how eternal their loneliness.
As we neared Cape Crozier Wilson became more and more interested. He was dreadfully keen on the beach there being selected as a base, and his enthusiasm was infectious. Certainly Scott was willing enough to try to effect a landing even apart from the advantage of having a new base. The Cape Crozier beach would probably mean a shorter journey to the Pole, for we should be spared the crevasses which radiated from White Island and necessitated a big detour being made to avoid them.
As we proceeded the distant land appeared more plainly and we were able to admire and identify the various peaks of the snow-clad mountain range. The year could not have opened more pleasantly. We had church in a warm sun, with a temperature several degrees above freezing point, and most of us spent our off-time basking in the sunshine, yarning, skylarking, and being happy in general.
We tried to get a white-bellied whale on the 2nd January, but our whale-gun did not seem to have any buck in it and the harpoon dribbled out a fraction of the distance it was expected to travel.
The same glorious weather continued on January 2, and Oates took five of the ponies on to the upper deck and got their stables cleared out. The poor animals had had no chance of being taken from their stalls for thirty-eight days, and their boxes were between two and three feet deep with manure. The four ponies stabled on the upper deck looked fairly well but were all stiff in their legs.
Rennick took soundings every forty or fifty miles in the Ross Sea, the depth varying from 357 fathoms comparatively close up to Cape Crozier to 180 fathoms in latitude 73 degrees.
Cape Crozier itself was sighted after breakfast on the 3rd, and the Great Ice Barrier appeared like a thin line on the southern horizon at 11.30 that morning. We were close to the Cape by lunch time, and by 1.30 we had furled sail in order to manoeuvre more freely. The "Terra Nova" steamed close up to the face of the Barrier, then along to the westward until we arrived in a little bay where the Barrier joins Cape Crozier. Quite a tide was washing past the cliff faces of the ice; it all looked very white, like chalk, while the sun was near the northern horizon, but later in the afternoon blue and green shadows were cast over the ice, giving it a softer and much more beautiful appearance. Ponting was given a chance to get some cinema films of the Barrier while we were cruising around, and then we stopped in the little bay where the Ice Barrier joins Cape Crozier, lowered a boat, and Captain Scott, Wilson, myself, and several others went inshore in a whaler. We were, however, unable to land as the swell was rather too heavy for boat work. We saw an Emperor penguin chick and a couple of adult Emperors, besides many Adèlie penguins and skua-gulls. We pulled along close under the great cliffs which frown over the end of the Great Ice Barrier. They contrasted strangely in their blackness with the low crystal ice cliffs of the Barrier itself. In one place we were splashed by the spray from quite a large waterfall, and one realised that the summer sun, beating down on those black foothills, must be melting enormous quantities of ice and snow. A curious ozone smell, which must have been the stench of the guano from the penguin rookeries, was noticed, but land smells of any sort were pleasant enough now for it brought home to us the fact that we should shortly embark on yet another stage of the Expedition.
Pennell conned the ship close under the cliffs and followed the boat along the coast. The "Terra Nova" was quite dwarfed by the great rocky bluffs and we realised the height of the cliffs for the first time.
Whilst we were prospecting Nelson obtained water-bottle samples and temperatures at 10, 50, 100, and 200 fathoms. The deep water apparently continued to the foot of the cliff in most places but there were two or three tiny steep beaches close to the junction of the Barrier and Ross Island.
Captain Scott being satisfied that no landing was possible, we in the boat returned to the ship and proceeded in her to the penguin rookery, a mile or so farther west. When half a mile from the shore, we found the bottom rapidly shoaling, the least depth being 9 1/2 fathoms. Several small bergs were ashore hereabouts, but the swell breaking on the beach plainly told us that a landing was out of the question. After carefully searching the shore with glasses while the ship steamed slowly along it all, ideas of a landing were abandoned and we set course for McMurdo Sound. As soon as the ship was headed for her new destination we commenced to make a running survey of the coast to Cape Bird. This took until ten o'clock at night, and we found a great bight existed in Ross Island which quite changed its shape on the map. After 10 p.m. we ran into some fairly heavy pack ice, gave up surveying, and had a meal.
I went up to the crow's-nest in order to work the ship to the best advantage, and spent eleven hours on end there, but the excitement of getting the "Terra Nova" round Cape Bird and into McMurdo Sound made the time fly. Occasionally the ship crashed heavily as she charged her way through the ice masses which skirted the shore. Whilst I conned the ship leadsmen sounded carefully, and I was able to work her close in to the coast near Cape Bird and avoid some heavy ice which we could never have forced. At 4.30 a.m. I broke through the Cape Bird ice-field and worked the ship on as far as Cape Royds, which was passed about 6.30 a.m. Looking through our binoculars we noticed Shackleton's winter hut looking quite new and fresh.
Leaving Cape Royds we made our way up McMurdo's Sound as far as Inaccessible Island, where we found the Strait frozen over from east to west. Skirting along the edge of the sea ice I found there was no way in, although I endeavoured to break into it at several points to reach what looked like open water spaces a mile or two from the ice edge. Accordingly, we stopped and I came down to report on the outlook. Captain Scott, Wilson, and I eventually went aloft to the cross-trees and had a good look round; we finally decided to land and look at a place where there appeared to be a very good beach. In "Discovery" days this spot was known as the skuary, being a favourite nesting place for skua-gulls, a sort of little cape. I piloted the ship as close I could to this position, which is situate midway between Cape Bird and Cape Armitage on Ross Island. An ice anchor was laid out and then Scott, Wilson, and I landed on the sea ice and walked a mile or so over it to the little cape in question.
It appeared to be an ideal winter quarters, and was then and there selected as our base. Captain Scott named it Cape Evans, after me, for which I was very grateful. Wilson already had a Cape named after him on the Victoria Land coast in latitude 82 degrees.
We now returned on board and immediately commenced landing motor sledges, ponies, etc. For better working, once the various parties were landed, we adopted the standard time of meridian 180 degrees, in other words, twelve hours fast on Greenwich Mean Time.
We now organised ourselves into three parties and I gave up the command of the "Terra Nova" to Pennell till the ship returned from New Zealand next year. The charge of the transport over the one and a half miles of sea ice which lay between the ship and shore was given to Campbell, whilst I took charge of the Base Station, erection of huts, and so forth, Captain Scott himself supervising, planning and improving.
We continued getting stuff out on the ice until late at night, and by dinner time, 7 p.m., we had put two motor sledges, all the dogs and ponies ashore, besides most of the ordinary sledges and tents.
Next day we turned out all hands at 4.30, breakfasted at 5, started work at 6, and landed all the petrol, kerosene, and hut timber. Most of the haulage was done by motors and men, but a few runs were made with ponies. We erected a big tent on the beach at Cape Evans and in this the hut-building party and those who were stowing stores and unloading sledges on the beach got their meals and sleep. We worked continuously until 10 p.m. with only the shortest of meal intervals, and then, tired but contented, we "flattened out" in our sleeping-bags, bunks, or hammocks.
The following day the same routine was continued and nearly the whole of the provision cases came ashore and were stacked in neat little piles under Bowers's direction. This indefatigable little worker now devoted himself entirely to the western party stores. He knew every case and all about it. Each one weighed approximately 60 lb. We had purposely arranged that this should be so when ordering stores in London to save weight and space. The cases were made of Venesta 3-ply wood. Of course, the instruments and heavier scientific gear could not stow in these handy packages, but the sixty-pound-Venesta was adhered to whenever possible. The ponies were not worked till the afternoon of the 6th, and then only the best of them with light loads.
Davis, the carpenter, had with him seaman Ford, Keohane, and Abbot. Their routine was a little different from ours: they worked at hut building from 7 a.m. till midnight usually, and their results were little short of marvellous. Odd people helped them when they could, and of these Pouting showed himself to befacile princepsas carpenter. I never saw anything like the speed in which he set up tongued and grooved match boarding.
Day, Nelson, and Lashly worked with the motor sledges; the newest motor frequently towed loads of 2500 lb. over the ice at a six mile an hour speed. The oldest hauled a ton and managed six double trips a day. Day, the motor engineer, had been down here before—both he and Priestley came from the Shackleton Expedition. The former had a decidedly comic vein which made him popular all round. From start to finish Day showed himself to be the most undefeated sportsman, and it was not his fault that the motor sledges did badly in the end.
Perhaps my diary from January 7, 1911, to the 8th gives a good idea of the progress we were making with the base station and of the general working day here. It reads as follows:
"Saturday, January7, 1911.
"All hands hard at work landing stores. Meares and Dimitri running dog teams to and fro for light gear.
"Captain Scott, Dr. Wilson, Griffith Taylor, Debenham, Cherry-Garrard, and Browning leading ponies. Campbell, Levick, and Priestley hauling sledges with colossal energy and enormous loads, the majority of the ship's party unloading stores; Bowers, two seamen, Atkinson, and I unloading sledges on the beach and carrying their contents up to their assigned positions, Simpson and Wright laying the foundations for a magnetic hut, and so on. Every one happy and keen, working as incessantly as ants. I took on the job of ice inspector, and three or four times a day I go out and inspect the ice, building snow bridges over the tide cracks and thin places. The ice, excepting the floe to which the ship is fast, is several feet thick. The floe by the 'Terra Nova' is very thin and rather doubtful. We, ashore, had dinner at 10 p.m. and turned in about 11."
But the following day, although included here, was by no means typical.
"Sunday, January8.
"This morning a regrettable accident took place. The third and newest motor sledge was hoisted out and, while being hauled clear on to the firm ice, it broke through and sank in deep water. Campbell and Day came in with the news, which Captain Scott took awfully well.
"It was nobody's fault, as Simpson and Campbell both tested the floe first and found it quite thick and apparently good. However, there it is, in about 100 fathoms of water.
"We stopped sledging for the day and those on board shifted the ship by warping, but could not get her into a satisfactory billet, so raised steam.
"We spent the day working on the hut and putting chairs and benches together. Captain Scott put the sledge meters together and I helped him. These are similar to the distance meters on motor-cars. They register in nautical miles (6084 feet) and yards, to 25 yards or less by interpolation.
"Took a True Bearing and found the approximate variation for Simpson (149 degrees E.)."
On the following day those on board the ship shifted her to a new position alongside the fast ice, just under a mile from our beach. The transportation of stores continued and we got ashore a great number of bales of compressed fodder, also some Crown Preserve Patent Fuel. As there was nothing much to do on the beach my party lent a hand with the landing of fodder, and I led the ponies Miki, Jehu, and Blossom; the latter, having suffered greatly on the outward voyage, was in poor condition. Still, most of the ponies were doing well, and at night were picketed on a snowdrift behind the hut. They occasionally got adrift, but I usually heard them and got up to make them fast, my small sleeping-tent being right alongside their tethering space.
Nelson continued working with me unless the requirements of his biological work called him away. In less than a week we had the whole of our stores and equipment landed, and from the beginning many of us took up our quarters at Cape Evans itself. We pitched several small tents on the beach; and it was an agreeable change to roll up and sleep in a fur bag after the damp, cold berths we had occupied in the ship. Teddy Nelson became my particular friend in the shore party and shared a sledging tent with me. The rest of the shore staff paired off and slept in the small tents, while Captain Scott had one to himself. We called it the "Holy of Holies," and from the privacy of this tiny dwelling Scott issued his directions, supervised, planned, and improved whenever improvement could be made in anything. He had a marvellous brain and a marvellous way of getting the best possible work out of his subordinates, still he never spared himself. One did with extraordinary little sleep, and in the sunny days it became necessary to leave tent doors wide open, otherwise the close-woven wind-proof tent cloth kept all the fresh air out and one woke with a terrific head.
To rightly get hold of our wintering place one must imagine a low spit of land jutting out into a fiord running, roughly north and south and bounded on both sides by a steep-to coast line indented with glaciers of vast size. Here and there gigantic snow-slopes were to be seen which more gradually lowered into the sea, and all around ice-covered mountains with black and brown foothills. A few islands rose to heights of 300 or 400 feet in McMurdo Sound, and these had no snow on them worth speaking of even in the winter. The visible land was of black or chocolate-brown, being composed of volcanic tuff, basalts, and granite. There were occasional patches of ruddy brown and yellow which relieved the general black and white appearance of this uninhabitable land, and close to the shore on the north side of Cape Evans were small patches of even gritty sand. In the neighbourhood of our Cape hard, brittle rocks cropped up everywhere, rocks that played havoc with one's boots. Sloping up fairly steeply from Cape Evans itself we had more and more rock masses until a kind of rampart was reached, on which one could see a number of extraordinary conical piles of rock, which looked much as if they had been constructed by human hands for landmarks or surveying beacons—these were called debris cones. This part above and behind Cape Evans was christened The Ramp, and from it one merely had to step from boulders and stones on to the smooth blue ice-slope that extended almost without interruption to the summit of Erebus itself. From The Ramp one could gaze in wonder at that magnificent volcano, White Lady of the Antarctic, beautiful in her glistening gown of sparkling crystal with a stole of filmy smoke-cloud wrapped about her wonderful shoulders.
We used to gaze and gaze at that constantly changing smoke or steam which the White Lady breathes out at all seasons, and has done for thousands of years.
Those were such happy days during the first Cape Evans summer. For the most part we had hot weather and could wash in the thaw pools which formed from the melting snow, and even draw our drinking water from the cascades which bubbled over the sun-baked rock, much as they do in summer-time in Norway.
The progress made by Davis and his crew of voluntary carpenters was amazing. One week after our arrival at the Cape, Nelson, Meares, and I commenced to cut a cave out of the ice cap above our camp for stowing our fresh mutton in. When knock-off work-time came Bowers, Nelson, and I made our way over to the ship with a hundred gallons of ice from this cave to be used for drinking water, it all helped to save coal and nobody made a journey to or fro empty handed if it could be helped. Once on board we took the opportunity to bath and shave. In this country it is certainly a case of "Where I dines I sleeps," so after supper on board we coiled down in somebody's beds and slept till 5.30 next morning when we returned to camp and carried on all day, making great progress with the grotto, which was eventually lit by electric light. We had plenty of variety in the matter of work; one part of the grotto was intended for Simpson's magnetic work, and this was the illuminated section. Whenever people visited the ice caves we got them to do a bit of picking and hewing; even roping in Captain Scott, who did a healthy half-hour's work when he came along our way.
Scott and Wilson got their hands in at dog-driving now, as I did occasionally myself. Nobody could touch Meares or Dimitri at dog-team work, although later on Cherry-Garrard and Atkinson became the experts.
The hut was finished externally on January 12 and fine stables built up on its northern side. This complete, Bowers arranged an annexe on the south side from which to do the rationing and provision issues. How we blessed all this fine weather; it was hardly necessary to wear snow glasses, in spite of so much sunshine, for the glare was relieved by the dark rock and sand around us. When all the stores had been discharged from the ship she lightened up considerably, and Campbell then set to work to ballast her for Pennell. Meares amused the naval members of our party by asking, with a childlike innocence, "Had they got all the cargo out of the steamer?" There was nothing wrong in what he said, but the "Terra Nova," Royal Yacht Squadron—and "cargo" and "steamer"—how our naval pride was hurt!
Incidentally we called the sandy strand (before the winter snow came, and covered it, and blotted it all out) Hurrah Beach; the bay to the northward of the winter quarters we christened Happy Bay. Although our work physically was of the hardest we lived in luxury for a while. Nelson provided cocoa for Captain Scott and myself at midnight just before we slept. He used to make it after supper and keep it for us in a great thermos flask. We only washed once a week and we were soon black with sun and dirt but in splendid training. In the first three weeks my shore gang, which included the lusty Canadian physicist, Wright, carried many hundreds of cases, walked miles daily, dug ice, picked, shovelled, handed ponies, cooked and danced. Outwardly we were not all prototypes of "the Sentimental Bloke," but occasionally in the stillness of the summer nights, we some of us unbent a bit, when the sun stood low in the south and all was quiet and still, and we did occasionally build castles in the air and draw home-pictures to one another, pictures of English summers, of river picnics and country life that framed those distant homes in gold and made them look to us like little bits of heaven—however, what was more important, the stores were all out of the "Terra Nova," even to stationery, instruments, and chronometers, and we could have removed into the hut at a pinch a week before we did, or gone sledging, for that matter, had we not purposely delayed to give the ponies a chance to regain condition. It was certainly better to let the carpenter and his company straighten up first, and in our slack hours we, who were to live in the palatial hut, got the house in order, put up knick-knacks, and settled into our appointed corners with our personal gear and professional impedimenta only at the last moment, a day or two before the big depot-laying sledge journey was appointed to start. Simpson and Ponting had the best allotments in the hut, because the former had to accommodate anemometers, barometers, thermometers, motors, bells, and a diversity of scientific instruments, but yet leave room to sleep amongst them without being electrocuted, while the latter had to arrange a small-sized dark room, 8 ft. by 6 ft. floor dimension, for all his developing of films and plates, for stowing photographic gear and cinematograph, and for everything in connection with his important and beautiful work as camera artist to the Expedition. Ponting likewise slept where he worked, so a bed was also included in the dark room.
Before moving the chronometers ashore Pennell, Rennick, and I myself took astronomical observations to determine independently the position of the observation spot on the beach at Cape Evans. The preliminary position gave us latitude 77 degrees 38 minutes 23 seconds S. longitude 166 degrees 33 minutes 24 seconds E., a more accurate determination was arrived at by running meridian distances from New Zealand and taking occultations during the ensuing winter, for longitude: latitudes were obtained by the mean results of stars north and south and meridian altitudes of the sun above and below pole.
Before getting busy with the preliminaries for the big depot journey, I took stock of the fresh meat in the grotto. The list of frozen flesh which I handed over to Clissold, the cook, looked luxurious enough, for it included nothing less than 700 lb. of beef, 100 sheep carcasses, 2 pheasants, 3 ox-tails, and 3 tongues, 10 lb. of sweetbread, 1 box of kidneys, 10 lb. of suet, 82 penguins, and 11 skua-gulls! The cooks' corner in the hut was very roomy, and, if my memory serves me aright, our cooking range was of similar pattern to one supplied to the Royal yacht, "Alexandra."
On January 19 a snow road was made over to the ice foot on the south side of Cape Evans in order to save the ponies' legs and hoofs. The Siberian ponies were not shod, and this rough, volcanic rock would have shaken them considerably.
A great deal of the bay ice had broken away and drifted out of the Sound, so that by the 20th the ship was only a few hundred yards from Hurrah Beach. This day Rennick, smiling from ear to ear, came across the ice with the pianola in bits conveyed on a couple of sledges. He fixed it up with great cleverness at one end of the hut and it was quite wonderful to see how he stripped it on board, brought it through all sorts of spaces, transported it undamaged over ice and rocky beach, re-erected it, tuned it, and then played "Home, Sweet Home." What with the pianola going all out, the gramophone giving us Melba records, and the ship's company's gramophone squawking out Harry Lauder's opposition numbers, Ponting cinematographing everything of interest and worthy of pictorial record, little Anton rushing round with nosebags for the ponies, Meares and Dimitri careering with the dog teams over ice, beach, packing cases, and what not, sailors with coloured tam-o'-shanters bobbing around in piratical style, the hot sun beating down and brightening up everything, one might easily have imagined this to be the circus scene, in the great Antarctic joy-ride film. Everything ran on wheels in these days, and it was difficult to imagine that in three months there would be no sun, that this sweltering beach would be encrusted with ice, and that the cold, dark winter would be upon us.
The 21st was quite an exciting day. Captain Scott woke me at 4 a.m. to tell me that the ship was in difficulties. I got up at once, called the four seamen, and with Uncle Bill we all went out on to the floe. The ice to which the ship was fast had broken away, and so we helped her re-moor with her ice-anchors. Petty Officer Evans went adrift on the floe, but we got him back in the pram. We turned in again at 5.15 and set a watch, but at 6.30 the "Terra Nova" hoisted an ensign at the main, a pre-arranged signal, and so all hands again went out and got her ice anchors; she slipped the ends of the wire hawsers holding them and stood out into the Sound. The ice was breaking up fast, a swell rolling in causing the big floes to grind and crunch in rather alarming fashion. Fortunately, Pennell had raised steam, which was just as well for before he got clear the ship was only half a cable from Cape Evans, which lay dead to leeward—she was well out of it. We took the wire hawsers, pram and ice anchors to our winter quarters and kept them in readiness for the ship's return, then had a delightful breakfast, with appetites sharpened from the early morning exercise and chill wind. Afterwards we continued the preparations for the depot trip and got eight out of eleven sledges fitted up with the bulk of their gear and a portion of stores.
At about 3 p.m. the "Terra Nova" came in, and just as she was turning to come alongside the fast ice she struck a rock with only twelve feet of water on it. This pinnacle, as it proved to be, lay within twenty feet of a sounding of eleven fathoms. Pennell immediately sounded all round, shifted several tons weight aft, and with the engines going full speed astern, he made his crew run from side to side and roll ship. Scott sent me out in the whaler with a party to assist the ship; we sounded all round and quickly made a plan of the relative disposition of the soundings round the "Terra Nova." However, as we finished, the ship moved astern and successfully floated, the crew gave three cheers, and we cheered lustily from the whaler. Pennell, as usual, was quite equal to the occasion when the ship struck; he was absolutely master of the situation, cool, decided, and successful. I was thankful to see the ship floating again, for, unlike the "Discovery" expedition, we had no plans for a relief ship.
When I told Captain Scott that the "Terra Nova" had run ashore he took it splendidly. We ran down to the beach, and when we beheld the ship on a lee shore heeling over to the wind, a certain amount of sea and swell coming in from the northward, and with the ultimate fate of the Expedition looking black and doubtful, Scott was quite cheerful, and he immediately set about to cope with the situation as coolly as though he were talking out his plans for a sledge journey.
After the "Terra Nova" got off this intruding rock she was steamed round to the edge of the fast ice, near the glacier tongue which juts out between Cape Evans and Cape Barne. We placed her ice-anchors, and after that Wilson and I went on board and had a yarn with Pennell, whom we brought back to tea. Scott was awfully nice to him about the grounding and told him of his own experience in 1904, when the "Discovery" was bumping heavily in a gale just after freeing herself from the ice at Hut Point.
Nelson, Griffith Taylor, Meares, and Day helped me with the sledge packing until 11.30 p.m. when we rolled into our bunks tired out and immediately fell asleep.
The next day, a Sunday, was entirely devoted to preparing personal gear for the depot journey: this means fitting lamp wick straps to our fur boots or finnesko, picking from our kits a proportion of puttees and socks, sewing more lamp wick on to our fur gloves so that these could hang from our shoulders when it was necessary to uncover our hands. We also had to fit draw-strings to our wind-proof blouses and adjust our headgear according to our individual fancy, and finally, tobacco and smokers' requisites would be added to the little bundle, which all packed up neatly in a pillow-slip. This personal bag served also as a pillow.
The following members were selected for the depot journey which Captain Scott elected to lead in person: Wilson, Bowers, Atkinson, Oates, Cherry-Garrard, Gran, Meares, Ford, Crean, Keohane, and myself. It was decided to take eight pony-sledges and two dog-sledges, together with about a ton of pony food, sledging rations, dog biscuit, and paraffin to a position on the Great Ice Barrier as far south as we could get before the first winter set in. This decision was arrived at by Scott after consultation with Oates and others, and, as will be seen by reference to the list of those chosen for the journey, none of the scientific staff were included except Wilson himself.
The ponies selected were either those in the best condition or the weaker beasts which from Oates's viewpoint would hardly survive the rigours of the winter. Apart from the animals picked for this journey, we had nine beasts left to be taken care of by the little Russian, Anton, and the trusty Lashly, whose mechanical knowledge and practical ability were needed to help get the Base Station going.
On January 3 I was sent on board with all the sledges, including two for a western geological reconnaissance and a small spare sledge for use in case of breakdown or accident to the depot-laying people. By this time no ice remained in the bay north of Cape Evans and the transport out to the "Terra Nova" had perforce to be done by boat.
I was glad to have this chance of working out the errors and rates of our chronometer watches, and, although I was up at 5 a.m., I could not resist having a long yarn, which continued far into the night, with those never-to-be-forgotten friends of mine, Campbell, Pennell, Rennick, and Bruce, the worthy and delightful lieutenants of the Expedition. Like little Bowers, Pennell and Rennick have made the supreme sacrifice, and only Campbell, Bruce and myself remain alive to-day.
January 24 was a busy day. Captain Scott was fetched from the shore directly after breakfast, and at 10 a.m. the ship left for Glacier Tongue to shadow as it were, the string of white Siberian ponies which were being led round over the fast ice in the bay to the southward of Cape Evans.
On arriving at the Tongue, Pennell selected a nice, natural wharf to put his ship alongside, and, this done, I got a picketing line out on the ice for the horses and then got the sledges on to the glacier. It is as well here to describe Glacier Tongue briefly, since frequent reference will be made to that icy promontory in this narrative.
Glacier Tongue lies roughly six miles to the S.S.E. of Cape Evans and is a remarkable spit of ice jutting out, when last surveyed, for four miles into McMurdo Sound. Soundings showed that it was afloat for a considerable part of its length, and as Scott found subsequently, a great portion of it broke adrift in the autumn or winter of 1911 and was carried by the winds and currents of the Sound to a position forty miles W.N.W. of Cape Evans, where it grounded, a huge flat iceberg two miles in length. Glacier Tongue was an old friend of mine, for it was here in the 1902-4 Relief Expedition that the crew of the little "Morning" dumped twenty tons of coal for the "Discovery" to pick up on her way northward, when the time came for her to free herself from the besetting ice which held her prisoner off Hut Point.
The ponies were marched to their tethering place without further accident than one falling through into the sea, but he was rescued none the worse. Oates showed himself to advantage in managing the ponies: he was very fond of telling us that a horse and a man would go anywhere, and I believe if we sailor-men had had the bad taste to challenge him he would have hoisted one of those Chinese ma[1] up to the crow's-nest! [1: Chinese for horse.]
We all had tea on board and then, after checking the sledge loads and ascertaining that nothing had been forgotten, the depot party started out with full loads and marched away from Glacier Tongue for seven miles, when our first camp was made on the sea ice. To commence with I went with Meares and No. 1 dog-sledge; the dogs were so eager and excited that they started by bolting at a breakneck speed and, in spite of all that we could do, took us over the glacier edge on to the sea ice. The sledge capsized and both Meares and I were thrown down somewhat forcibly. We caught the sledge, however, and got the dogs in hand after their initial energy had been expended. Scott and Wilson managed their dog sledge better as Meares gave them a quieter team.
It was about nine o'clock when we camped, Meares, Wilson, Scott and I sharing a tent. Uncle Bill was cook, and I must say the first sledging supper was delightful.
We went back to Glacier Tongue the next day to relay the fodder and dog biscuit which was to be depoted. We had brought the provisions for depot along the eve before. I went in with Meares and Nelson, who had come out on ski to "speed the parting guest." We had a rare treat all riding in on the dog sledge at a great pace. Had lunch on board and then Captain Scott gave us an hour or two to ourselves, for it was the day of farewell letters, everybody sitting round the ward-room table sucking pens or pencils, looking very wooden-faced and nonchalant despite the fact that we were most certainly writing to our nearest and dearest, sending through our letters an unwritten prayer that we should be spared after steadfastly performing our alloted tasks with credit to our flag and with credit to those at whose feet we yearned to lay the laurels we hoped to win. Even as I wrote my farewell letters Captain Scott, Wilson, Bowers, and Nelson found time to write to my wife; Scott's letter may well be included here for it shows his thoughtfulness and consideration:
"January, 25, 1911, Glacier Tongue, McMurdo Sound.
"Dear Mrs. Evans,—I thought you might be glad to have a note to tell you how fit and well your good man is looking, his cheery optimism has already helped me in many difficulties and at the present moment he is bubbling over with joy at the 'delights' of his first sledge trip.
"He will have told you all the news and the ups and downs of our history to date, and you will have guessed that he has always met the misfortunes with a smile and the successes with a cheer, so that very little remains for me to say—except that I daily grow more grateful to you for sparing him for this venture. I feel that he is going to be a great help in every way and that it will go hard if, with so many good fellows, we should fail in our objects.
"Before concluding I should really like to impress on you how little cause you have for anxiety. We have had the greatest luck in finding and establishing our winter quarters, and if I could go shopping to-morrow I should not know what to buy to add to our comfort. We are reaping a full reward for all those months of labour in London, in which your husband took so large a share—if you picture us after communication is cut off it must be a very bright picture, almost a scene of constant revelry, with your husband in the foreground amongst those who are merry and content—I am sure we are going to be a very happy family and most certainly we shall be healthy and well cared for.
"With all kind regards and hopes that you will not allow yourself to be worried till your good man comes safely home again.
"Yours sincerely,
I said my good-byes after an early tea to the fellows of the "Terra Nova" and also to the Eastern party, the lieutenants saw me over the side, and I went away with a big lump in my throat, then Nelson and I took out a 10-ft. sledge with 530 lb. of fodder on it—rather too heavy a load, but it all helped, and the sea ice surface was none too bad. We did not get to camp till 10.35 p.m.: Meares, with his usual good-heartedness, came out from the tent and helped us in for the last miles or so. He had driven the dogs out with another load after tea time. Uncle Bill had a fine pemmican supper awaiting us. My job kept me in camp next day to adjust theodolites, but the rest of the party went out to bring the final relay of depot stores from the "Terra Nova." During the following days we relayed the depot stuff along to a position near the edge of the Barrier, and whilst so engaged most of us found time to visit Hut Point. While Captain Scott was selecting the position for dumping a quantity of compressed fodder bales the remainder of the party dug the snow out of the old hut left by the Discovery in 1904. It looked a very deserted place, and the difference between the two winter quarters, Hut Point and Cape Evans, was amazing. One could quite understand the first expedition here selecting Hut Point for its natural harbour, but for comfort and freedom from unwelcome squalls and unpleasant gusts of wind commend me to Cape Evans. Never in my life had I seen anything quite so dreary and desolate as this locality. Practically surrounded by high hills, little sunshine could get to the hut, which was built in a hollow. Of course, we saw the place at its worst, for the best summer months had passed. The hut itself had been erected as a magnetic observatory and it contrasted shabbily with our 50-ft by 25-ft. palace. We did not finish clearing the snow away, although with so many willing workers we made considerable progress. In parts the midsummer sun had melted the snow, which in turn had re-frozen into blue ice, and this we found troublesome because the slender woodwork of the hut would not stand any heavy pick work.
We christened the place on the Barrier edge Fodder Camp, and it was the general opinion that we could risk leaving the bales of hay here until the depot stuff had been taken south. Accordingly, all the more important stores were relayed on January 29 to a position two miles in from the Barrier edge. Whilst doing this relay work I went in with Meares to Hut Point to bring out some 250 lb. of dog biscuit, and our dogs, being very fresh, scented a seal, took charge of the light sledge, and, in spite of all the brakeing and obstructing Meares and I put up, the dogs went wildly forward until they reached the seal. The second they came to it Meares and I found ourselves in the midst of a snapping, snarling, and biting mixture, with the poor seal floundering underneath. While we were beating the dogs off the seal bit Meares in the leg; he looked awfully surprised and showed great forbearance in not giving the seal one for himself with the iron-shod brake stick. I never saw anybody less vicious in nature than "Mother" Meares: he never knocked the dogs about unless it was absolutely necessary. Even Osman, the wild wolf-like king-dog, showed affection for him.
Whilst moving the sledging stores to Safety Camp, as we called the depot, two miles in, we came across two tents left by Shackleton two or three years before. They contained a few stores and a Primus stove, which proved to be most useful later on. On January 30 and 31 we completed the depot at Safety Camp and then reorganised the depot party, owing to Atkinson's developing a very sore heel, which made it impossible for him to accompany us. It did not matter very much, because we had heaps of people to work the depot-laying journey, only it meant a disappointment for Atkinson, which he took to heart very much. The question of sledging experience made us wish to have Atkinson on this trip, but he gained it a few weeks later. Accordingly, I took over Crean's pony, Blossom, whilst he took charge of our sick man and returned with him to Hut Point. Scott himself took Atkinson's pony, and on the 2nd February the caravan proceeded in an E.S.E. direction to make for a point in approximately 78 degrees S. 169 degrees E. Most of the ponies had 600 lb. leads on their sledges, Meare's dog team 750, and Wilson's 600. We found the surface very bad, most of the ponies sinking deep in the snow. After doing roughly five miles we halted and had a meal. Oates was called into our tent and consulted with a view to bettering the conditions for the ponies. As a result it was decided to march by night and rest during the day when the sun would be higher and the air warmer. There was quite a drop in the temperature between noon and midnight, and it was natural to suppose that we should get better and harder surfaces with the sun at its lower altitude. We still, of course, had the sun above the horizon for the full twenty-four hours, and should have for three weeks yet; the choice was altogether a wise one and we therefore turned in during the afternoon and remained in our sleeping-bags until 10 p.m. when we arose and cooked our breakfast.
Camp was broken at midnight and the march resumed. For three hours we plodded along, a little leg weary perhaps, on account of the unusual time for marching and working physically. We had lunch about 3 a.m. and rested the ponies for a couple of hours. The surface was still very bad, the ponies labouring heavily, and my own animal, Blossom, suffered through his hoofs being very small, so that he sank into the snow far more than did the other horses. It was on his account that we only covered nine miles. I did some surveying work after our 7.30 a.m. supper and turned in at 10 o'clock until 7 p.m. Captain Scott took over cook in our tent and made the breakfast.
For the next few days we continued marching over the Great Ice Barrier, the distances covered depending on the condition of Blossom and another pony, Blücher. Both of these animals caused anxiety from the start, and, owing to their weakness the depot-laying distances scarcely exceeded ten miles daily. There is nothing to be gained from a long description of this autumn journey, it was merely a record of patiently trudging and of carefully watching over the ponies. Generally speaking, the weather was not in our favour, the sky being frequently overcast, and we experienced an unpleasant amount of low drift.
February 5 and 6 were blizzard days during which no move could be made, and it was not until nearly 11 p.m. on the 7th that the hard wind took off and the snow ceased to drift about us. The blizzards were not serious but were quite sufficient to try the ponies severely—Blossom, Blücher, and a third animal, James Pigg, could in no way keep up with the van, although their loads were lightened considerably. The bluejackets, Forde and Keohane, showed extraordinary aptitude in handling the ponies, but in spite of their efforts their animals were quite done up by February 12, as also was poor old Blossom. It would have been cruel to continue with them, they were so wasted, and even their eyes were dull and lustreless. Accordingly, Scott decided to send Blücher, James Pigg, and Blossom back with Forde, Keohane, and myself. A reorganisation was made near the 79th parallel, and whilst the main party proceeded southward, Forde, Keohane, and I took our feeble ponies northward with the intention of getting them home to Hut Point before the temperature fell, until the cold would be too great for them to stand. It was annoying for me to be sent back, still there was plenty of survey work to be done between the turning-point and Safety Camp. Blücher failed from the start and lay down in the snow directly the depot party left us. Forde lifted him up, but his legs were limp and would not support him. We rubbed the poor pony's legs and did what we could for him, poor old Forde being practically in tears over the little beast. To give one an idea of this wretched animal's condition, when it was decided to kill him for humanity's sake and his throat was cut by Keohane with a sailor's knife, there was hardly any blood to let out. It was a rotten day for all three of us, blowing too hard to travel until very late, and a second pony, Blossom, was doing his best to die. We made some little way homeward, Keohane, James Pigg and myself pulling the sledge with our gear on it, and Forde lifting, carrying, and pushing Blossom along. I felt I ought to kill this animal but I knew how angry and disappointed Scott would be at the loss, so kept him going although he showed so much distress. It was surprising what spirit the little brute had: if we started to march away Blossom staggered along after us, looking like a spectre against the white background of snow. We kept on giving him up and making to kill him, but he actually struggled on for over thirty miles before falling down and dying in his tracks. We built a snow-cairn over him and planted what pony food we had no further use for on the top of the cairn.
The third pony, James Pigg, was kept fit and snug under a big snow-wall whenever we were not marching, and he won home to Safety Camp with very little trouble, frequently covering distances equal to our own marching capability. Once Safety Camp had been regained we got good weather again and James Pigg became quite frisky, ate all that we could give him, and, to our delight, his eyes regained their brightness and he began to put on flesh.
We spent a couple of days at Safety Camp before Captain Scott returned with the dog teams. In order to cut off corners he shaved things rather fine, and getting rather too close to White Island, the dog teams ran along the snow-bridge of a crevasse, the bridge subsided, and all the dogs of Scott's and Meares's sledge, with the exception of Osman, the leader, and the two rear animals, disappeared into a yawning chasm. Scott and Meares secured their sledge clear of the snow bridge and with the assistance of their companions, Wilson and Cherry-Garrard, who had the other team, they were lowered by means of an Alpine rope into the crevasse until they could get at the dogs. They, found the poor animals swinging round, snapping at one another and howling dismally, but in an awful tangle. The dogs were rescued a pair at a time and, fortunately for all concerned, they lay down and rested when hauled up to the surface by Uncle Bill and "Cherry." When all the animals were up and Scott and Meares themselves had regained safety, a dog fight took place between the two teams. Apart from this excitement things had gone very well. Scott was most enthusiastic about the capabilities of Meares's dogs, and he then expressed an opinion that he would probably run the dogs light on the Polar journey and do the final plateau march to the Pole itself with them. What a pity he didn't! Had he done so he might have been alive to-day.
We learnt from the dog-drivers that the depot had been established in 79 degrees 30 minutes S. 169 degrees E., practically one hundred and fifty miles distant from the base, and here a ton or so of sledging stores awaited us preparatory for the great sledge journey to the Pole.
Bowers, Oates, and Gran had been left to build up the depot and lead back the other five ponies with their empty sledges. We waited for them at Safety Camp before transporting some of the stuff we had left here out to Corner Camp, the position thirty-five miles E.S.E. of Safety Camp, where the crevasses ended. Some of us went into Hut Point to see if the ship had been there with any message. Little did we dream whilst we sauntered in over the ice of the news that awaited us. We found that the "Terra Nova" had been there the day before Atkinson and Crean had got there; she had also made a second visit on the 9th or 10th February, bringing the unwelcome news that Amundsen's expedition had been met with in the Bay of Whales. The "Terra Nova" had entered the bay and found the "Fram" there with the Norwegians working like ants unloading their stores and hut-building in rather a dangerous position quite close to the Barrier edge. Amundsen's people had about 120 dogs and a hard lot of men, mostly expert ski-runners. They were contemplating an early summer journey to the Pole and not proposing to attempt serious scientific work of any sort. Further, to our chagrin, the eastern party had not effected a landing, for Campbell realised that it would be profitless to set up his base alongside that of the Norwegians.
The ice conditions about King Edward VII. Land had been found insuperable, great masses of land ice barring the way to their objective, and so poor Campbell and his mates left news that they were reluctantly seeking a landing elsewhere. We spent a very unhappy night, in spite of all attempts to be cheerful. Clearly, there was nothing for us but to abandon science and go for the Pole directly the season for sledging was advanced enough to make travelling possible after the winter. It now became a question of dogs versus ponies, for the main bulk of our stuff must of necessity be pony-drawn unless we could rely on the motor sledges—nobody believed we could. However, all the arguing in the world wouldn't push Amundsen and his dogs off the Antarctic continent and we had to put the best face on our disappointment. Captain Scott took it very bravely, better than any of us, I think, for he had done already such wonderful work down here. It was he who initiated and founded Antarctic sledge travelling, it was he who had blazed the trail, as it were, and we were very very sorry for him, for such news, such a menace, could hardly be expected to give him a happy winter.
Scott did the best thing under the circumstances: he set us all to work on the 23rd February to get out three weeks' men provisions for eight men from the stores at Safety Camp, and these collected and packed, he, Cherry-Garrard, and Crean took a 10-ft. sledge, and Forde, Atkinson, and myself a 12-ft. one, while Keohane and James Pigg pulled another big sledge containing oats and paraffin, and we all set out in a bunch for Corner Camp, thirty odd miles away. All this depot work meant an easy start next season, since the transport of great loads over sea ice and the deep, soft snow, which is usually encountered when first getting on to the Barrier hereabouts, would strain the ponies' legs and break the hearts of the dogs. Scott thought all this out and certainly overcame preliminary difficulties by getting so much pony food, provision, and paraffin out to One Ton Camp and Corner Camp. He felt the benefit next springtime. This second little run out is not worth describing; we sighted Bowers's party coming back with the five ponies whilst we were camped one night, and we noted that they were travelling very quickly, which proved all was well with these animals.
On arrival at Corner Camp Scott left us in order to get back and see the five ponies safely conducted to Hut Point. He instructed me to make easy marches with our friend James Pigg as there was no further work for him this season. Cherry-Garrard and Crean accompanied Scott, and the three pushed on at their utmost for blizzard weather had come again and the snow fall was considerable.
We must now follow Captain Scott's and Bowers's party, who, in conjunction, engaged on the problem of getting five ponies and two dog teams to Hut Point. There did not seem to be anything in doing this, but if ever a man's footsteps were dogged by misfortune, they surely were our leader's.
Scott sent Cherry-Garrard and Crean with Bowers and four ponies across the sea ice from the Barrier edge to reach Hut Point on March 1. He himself had remained with Oates and Gran to tend the pony Weary Willie, a gutless creature compared to the others, which was showing signs of failing. Weary Willie died for no apparent reason, unless his loss of condition was due to the blizzards we encountered on the depot journey.
Bowers and Co. made a good start, but the ponies they had were undoubtedly tired and listless after their hard journey, they were also in bad condition and frequently had to be rested. When they had advanced some way towards Hut Point over good strong sea ice, cracks became apparent and a slight swell showed Bowers that the sea ice was actually on the move. Directly this was appreciated his party turned and hastened back, but the ice was drifting out to sea. The ponies behaved splendidly, jumping the ever widening cracks with extraordinary sagacity, whilst Bowers and his two companions launched the sledges over the water spaces in order not to risk the ponies' legs. Eventually they reached what looked like a safe place and, since men and ponies were thoroughly exhausted, camp was pitched and the weary party soon fell asleep, but at 4.30 the next morning Bowers awoke hearing a strange noise. He opened the tent and found the party in a dreadful plight—the ice had again commenced to break up and they were surrounded by water. One of the ponies had disappeared into the sea. Camp was again struck and for five hours this plucky little party fought their way over three-quarters of a mile of drifting ice. They never for an instant thought of abandoning their charge, realising that Scott's Polar plans would in all probability be ruined if four more ponies were lost with their sledges and equipment. Crean, with great gallantry, went for support, clambering with difficulty over the ice. He jumped from floe to floe and at last climbed up the face of the Barrier from a piece of ice which swung round in the tideway and just touched the ice cliff at the right moment. Cherry-Garrard stayed with Bowers at his request, for this undaunted little seaman would never give up his charge while a gleam of hope remained.