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Chapter 16 - SOUTHERN JOURNEY: THE
BARRIER STAGE
Scott's Last Expedition - The Journals of Captain R.
F. Scott
Contents
and Preface Chapters:
Chapter 1 |
Chapter 2 |
Chapter 3 |
Chapter 4 |
Chapter 5 |
Chapter 6 |
Chapter 7 |
Chapter 8 |
Chapter 9 |
Chapter 10 |
Chapter 11 |
Chapter 12 |
Chapter 13 |
Chapter 14 |
Chapter 15 |
Chapter 16 |
Chapter 17 |
Chapter 18 |
Chapter 19 |
Chapter 20 |
Appendix
Summary
(2 pages) of the
Terra Nova Expedition |
The Men
of the Expedition
November 1
Last night we heard that Jehu
had reached Hut Point in about 5 1/2 hours. This
morning we got away in detachments--Michael, Nobby,
Chinaman were first to get away about 11 A.M. The
little devil Christopher was harnessed with the
usual difficulty and started in kicking mood, Oates
holding on for all he was worth.
Bones ambled off gently with Crean, and I led Snippets
in his wake. Ten minutes after Evans and Snatcher
passed at the usual full speed.
The wind blew very strong at the Razor Back and
the sky was threatening--the ponies hate the wind.
A mile south of this island Bowers and Victor passed
me, leaving me where I best wished to be--at the
tail of the line.
About this place I saw that one of the animals ahead
had stopped and was obstinately refusing to go forward
again. I had a great fear it was Chinaman, the unknown
quantity, but to my relief found it was my old friend
'Nobby' in obstinate mood. As he is very strong
and fit the matter was soon adjusted with a little
persuasion from Anton behind. Poor little Anton
found it difficult to keep the pace with short legs.
Snatcher soon led the party and covered the distance
in four hours. Evans said he could see no difference
at the end from the start--the little animal simply
romped in. Bones and Christopher arrived almost
equally fresh, in fact the latter had been bucking
and kicking the whole way. For the present there
is no end to his devilment, and the great consideration
is how to safeguard Oates. Some quiet ponies should
always be near him, a difficult matter to arrange
with such varying rates of walking. A little later
I came up to a batch, Bowers, Wilson, Cherry, and
Wright, and was happy to see Chinaman going very
strong. He is not fast, but very steady, and I think
should go a long way.
Victor and Michael forged ahead again, and the remaining
three of us came in after taking a little under
five hours to cover the distance.
We were none too soon, as the weather had been steadily
getting worse, and soon after our arrival it was
blowing a gale.
Thursday, November 2
Hut Point. The march teaches
a good deal as to the paces of the ponies. It reminded
me of a regatta or a somewhat disorganised fleet
with ships of very unequal speed. The plan of further
advance has now been evolved. We shall start in
three parties--the very slow ponies, the medium
paced, and the fliers. Snatcher starting last will
probably overtake the leading unit. All this requires
a good deal of arranging. We have decided to begin
night marching, and shall get away after supper,
I hope. The weather is hourly improving, but at
this season that does not count for much. At present
our ponies are very comfortably stabled. Michael,
Chinaman and James Pigg are actually in the hut.
Chinaman kept us alive last night by stamping on
the floor. Meares and Demetri are here with the
dog team, and Ponting with a great photographic
outfit. I fear he won't get much chance to get results.
Friday, November 3
Camp 1. A keen wind with some
drift at Hut Point, but we sailed away in detachments.
Atkinson's party, Jehu, Chinaman and Jimmy Pigg
led off at eight. Just before ten Wilson, Cherry-Garrard
and I left. Our ponies marched steadily and well
together over the sea ice. The wind dropped a good
deal, but the temperature with it, so that the little
remaining was very cutting. We found Atkinson at
Safety Camp. He had lunched and was just ready to
march out again; he reports Chinaman and Jehu tired.
Ponting arrived soon after we had camped with Demetri
and a small dog team. The cinematograph was up in
time to catch the flying rearguard which came along
in fine form, Snatcher leading and being stopped
every now and again--a wonderful little beast. Christopher
had given the usual trouble when harnessed, but
was evidently subdued by the Barrier Surface. However,
it was not thought advisable to halt him, and so
the party fled through in the wake of the advance
guard.
After lunch we packed up and marched on steadily
as before. I don't like these midnight lunches,
but for man the march that follows is pleasant when,
as to-day, the wind falls and the sun steadily increases
its heat. The two parties in front of us camped
5 miles beyond Safety Camp, and we reached their
camp some half or three-quarters of an hour later.
All the ponies are tethered in good order, but most
of them are tired--Chinaman and Jehu very tired
. Nearly all are inclined to be off feed, but this
is very temporary, I think. We have built walls,
but there is no wind and the sun gets warmer every
minute.
Mirage
Very marked waving effect to
east. Small objects greatly exaggerated and showing
as dark vertical lines.
1 P.M
Feeding time. Woke the party,
and Oates served out the rations--all ponies feeding
well. It is a sweltering day, the air breathless,
the glare intense--one loses sight of the fact that
the temperature is low (-22°)--one's mind seeks
comparison in hot sunlit streets and scorching pavements,
yet six hours ago my thumb was frostbitten. All
the inconveniences of frozen footwear and damp clothes
and sleeping-bags have vanished entirely.
A petrol tin is near the camp and a note stating
that the motor passed at 9 P.M. 28th, going strong--they
have 4 to 5 days' lead and should surely keep it.
'Bones has eaten Christopher's goggles.'
This announcement by Crean, meaning that Bones had
demolished the protecting fringe on Christopher's
bridle. These fringes promise very well--Christopher
without his is blinking in the hot sun.
Saturday, November 4
Camp 2. Led march--started
in what I think will now become the settled order.
Atkinson went at 8, ours at 10, Bowers, Oates and
Co. at 11.15. Just after starting picked up cheerful
note and saw cheerful notices saying all well with
motors, both going excellently. Day wrote 'Hope
to meet in 80° 30' (Lat.).' Poor chap, within 2
miles he must have had to sing a different tale.
It appears they had a bad ground on the morning
of the 29th. I suppose the surface was bad and everything
seemed to be going wrong. They 'dumped' a good deal
of petrol and lubricant. Worse was to follow. Some
4 miles out we met a tin pathetically inscribed,
'Big end Day's motor No. 2 cylinder broken.' Half
a mile beyond, as I expected, we found the motor,
its tracking sledges and all. Notes from Evans and
Day told the tale. The only spare had been used
for Lashly's machine, and it would have taken a
long time to strip Day's engine so that it could
run on three cylinders. They had decided to abandon
it and push on with the other alone. They had taken
the six bags of forage and some odds and ends, besides
their petrol and lubricant. So the dream of great
help from the machines is at an end! The track of
the remaining motor goes steadily forward, but now,
of course, I shall expect to see it every hour of
the march.
The ponies did pretty well--a cruel soft surface
most of the time, but light loads, of course. Jehu
is better than I expected to find him, Chinaman
not so well. They are bad crocks both of them.
It was pretty cold during the night, -7° when we
camped, with a crisp breeze blowing. The ponies
don't like it, but now, as I write, the sun is shining
through a white haze, the wind has dropped, and
the picketing line is comfortable for the poor beasts.
This, 1 P.M., is the feeding hour--the animals are
not yet on feed, but they are coming on.
The wind vane left here in the spring shows a predominance
of wind from the S.W. quarter. Maximum scratching,
about S.W. by W.
Sunday, November 5
Camp 3. 'Corner Camp.' We came
over the last lap of the first journey in good order--ponies
doing well in soft surface, but, of course, lightly
loaded. To-night will show what we can do with the
heavier weights. A very troubled note from Evans
(with motor) written on morning of 2nd, saying maximum
speed was about 7 miles per day. They have taken
on nine bags of forage, but there are three black
dots to the south which we can only imagine are
the deserted motor with its loaded sledges. The
men have gone on as a supporting party, as directed.
It is a disappointment. I had hoped better of the
machines once they got away on the Barrier Surface.
The appetites of the ponies are very fanciful. They
do not like the oil cake, but for the moment seem
to take to some fodder left here. However, they
are off that again to-day. It is a sad pity they
won't eat well now, because later on one can imagine
how ravenous they will become. Chinaman and Jehu
will not go far I fear.
Monday, November 6
Camp 4. We started in the usual
order, arranging so that full loads should be carried
if the black dots to the south prove to be the motor.
On arrival at these we found our fears confirmed.
A note from Evans stated a recurrence of the old
trouble. The big end of No. 1 cylinder had cracked,
the machine otherwise in good order. Evidently the
engines are not fitted for working in this climate,
a fact that should be certainly capable of correction.
One thing is proved; the system of propulsion is
altogether satisfactory. The motor party has proceeded
as a man-hauling party as arranged.
With their full loads the ponies did splendidly,
even Jehu and Chinaman with loads over 450 lbs.
stepped out well and have finished as fit as when
they started. Atkinson and Wright both think that
these animals are improving.
The better ponies made nothing of their loads, and
my own Snippets had over 700 lbs., sledge included.
Of course, the surface is greatly improved; it is
that over which we came well last year. We are all
much cheered by this performance. It shows a hardening
up of ponies which have been well trained; even
Oates is pleased!
As we came to camp a blizzard threatened, and we
built snow walls. One hour after our arrival the
wind was pretty strong, but there was not much snow.
This state of affairs has continued, but the ponies
seem very comfortable. Their new rugs cover them
well and the sheltering walls are as high as the
animals, so that the wind is practically unfelt
behind them. The protection is a direct result of
our experience of last year, and it is good to feel
that we reaped some reward for that disastrous journey.
I am writing late in the day and the wind is still
strong. I fear we shall not be able to go on to-night.
Christopher gave great trouble again last night--the
four men had great difficulty in getting him into
his sledge; this is a nuisance which I fear must
be endured for some time to come.
The temperature, -5°, is lower than I like in a
blizzard. It feels chilly in the tent, but the ponies
don't seem to mind the wind much.
The incidence of this blizzard had certain characters
worthy of note:--
Before we started from Corner Camp there was a heavy
collection of cloud about Cape Crozier and Mount
Terror, and a black line of stratus low on the western
slopes of Erebus. With us the sun was shining and
it was particularly warm and pleasant. Shortly after
we started mist formed about us, waxing and waning
in density; a slight southerly breeze sprang up,
cumulo-stratus cloud formed overhead with a rather
windy appearance (radial E. and W.).
At the first halt (5 miles S.) Atkinson called my
attention to a curious phenomenon. Across the face
of the low sun the strata of mist could be seen
rising rapidly, lines of shadow appearing to be
travelling upwards against the light. Presumably
this was sun-warmed air. The accumulation of this
gradually overspread the sky with a layer of stratus,
which, however, never seemed to be very dense; the
position of the sun could always be seen. Two or
three hours later the wind steadily increased in
force, with the usual gusty characteristic. A noticeable
fact was that the sky was clear and blue above the
southern horizon, and the clouds seemed to be closing
down on this from time to time. At intervals since,
it has lifted, showing quite an expanse of clear
sky. The general appearance is that the disturbance
is created by conditions about us, and is rather
spreading from north to south than coming up with
the wind, and this seems rather typical. On the
other hand, this is not a bad snow blizzard; although
the wind holds, the land, obscured last night, is
now quite clear and the Bluff has no mantle.
[Added in another hand, probably dictated:
Before we felt any air moving, during our A.M. march
and the greater part of the previous march, there
was dark cloud over Ross Sea off the Barrier, which
continued over the Eastern Barrier to the S.E. as
a heavy stratus, with here and there an appearance
of wind. At the same time, due south of us, dark
lines of stratus were appearing, miraged on the
horizon, and while we were camping after our A.M.
march, these were obscured by banks of white fog
(or drift?), and the wind increasing the whole time.
My general impression was that the storm came up
from the south, but swept round over the eastern
part of the Barrier before it became general and
included the western part where we were.]
Tuesday, November 7
Camp 4. The blizzard has continued
throughout last night and up to this time of writing,
late in the afternoon. Starting mildly, with broken
clouds, little snow, and gleams of sunshine, it
grew in intensity until this forenoon, when there
was heavy snowfall and the sky overspread with low
nimbus cloud. In the early afternoon the snow and
wind took off, and the wind is dropping now, but
the sky looks very lowering and unsettled.
Last night the sky was so broken that I made certain
the end of the blow had come. Towards morning the
sky overhead and far to the north was quite clear.
More cloud obscured the sun to the south and low
heavy banks hung over Ross Island. All seemed hopeful,
except that I noted with misgiving that the mantle
on the Bluff was beginning to form. Two hours later
the whole sky was overcast and the blizzard had
fully developed.
This Tuesday evening it remains overcast, but one
cannot see that the clouds are travelling fast.
The Bluff mantle is a wide low bank of stratus not
particularly windy in appearance; the wind is falling,
but the sky still looks lowering to the south and
there is a general appearance of unrest. The temperature
has been -10° all day.
The ponies, which had been so comparatively comfortable
in the earlier stages, were hit as usual when the
snow began to fall.
We have done everything possible to shelter and
protect them, but there seems no way of keeping
them comfortable when the snow is thick and driving
fast. We men are snug and comfortable enough, but
it is very evil to lie here and know that the weather
is steadily sapping the strength of the beasts on
which so much depends. It requires much philosophy
to be cheerful on such occasions.
In the midst of the drift this forenoon the dog
party came up and camped about a quarter of a mile
to leeward. Meares has played too much for safety
in catching us so soon, but it is satisfactory to
find the dogs will pull the loads and can be driven
to face such a wind as we have had. It shows that
they ought to be able to help us a good deal.
The tents and sledges are badly drifted up, and
the drifts behind the pony walls have been dug out
several times. I shall be glad indeed to be on the
march again, and oh! for a little sun. The ponies
are all quite warm when covered by their rugs. Some
of the fine drift snow finds its way under the rugs,
and especially under the broad belly straps; this
melts and makes the coat wet if allowed to remain.
It is not easy to understand at first why the blizzard
should have such a withering effect on the poor
beasts. I think it is mainly due to the exceeding
fineness of the snow particles, which, like finely
divided powder, penetrate the hair of the coat and
lodge in the inner warmths. Here it melts, and as
water carries off the animal heat. Also, no doubt,
it harasses the animals by the bombardment of the
fine flying particles on tender places such as nostrils,
eyes, and to lesser extent ears. In this way it
continually bothers them, preventing rest. Of all
things the most important for horses is that conditions
should be placid whilst they stand tethered.
Wednesday, November
8
Camp 5. Wind with overcast
threatening sky continued to a late hour last night.
The question of starting was open for a long time,
and many were unfavourable. I decided we must go,
and soon after midnight the advance guard got away.
To my surprise, when the rugs were stripped from
the 'crocks' they appeared quite fresh and fit.
Both Jehu and Chinaman had a skittish little run.
When their heads were loose Chinaman indulged in
a playful buck. All three started with their loads
at a brisk pace. It was a great relief to find that
they had not suffered at all from the blizzard.
They went out six geographical miles, and our section
going at a good round pace found them encamped as
usual. After they had gone, we waited for the rearguard
to come up and joined with them. For the next 5
miles the bunch of seven kept together in fine style,
and with wind dropping, sun gaining in power, and
ponies going well, the march was a real pleasure.
One gained confidence every moment in the animals;
they brought along their heavy loads without a hint
of tiredness. All take the patches of soft snow
with an easy stride, not bothering themselves at
all. The majority halt now and again to get a mouthful
of snow, but little Christopher goes through with
a non-stop run. He gives as much trouble as ever
at the start, showing all sorts of ingenious tricks
to escape his harness. Yesterday when brought to
his knees and held, he lay down, but this served
no end, for before he jumped to his feet and dashed
off the traces had been fixed and he was in for
the 13 miles of steady work. Oates holds like grim
death to his bridle until the first freshness is
worn off, and this is no little time, for even after
10 miles he seized a slight opportunity to kick
up. Some four miles from this camp Evans loosed
Snatcher momentarily. The little beast was off at
a canter at once and on slippery snow; it was all
Evans could do to hold to the bridle. As it was
he dashed across the line, somewhat to its danger.
Six hundred yards from this camp there was a bale
of forage. Bowers stopped and loaded it on his sledge,
bringing his weights to nearly 800 lbs. His pony
Victor stepped out again as though nothing had been
added. Such incidents are very inspiriting. Of course,
the surface is very good; the animals rarely sink
to the fetlock joint, and for a good part of the
time are borne up on hard snow patches without sinking
at all. In passing I mention that there are practically
no places where ponies sink to their hocks as described
by Shackleton. On the only occasion last year when
our ponies sank to their hocks in one soft patch,
they were unable to get their loads on at all. The
feathering of the fetlock joint is borne up on the
snow crust and its upward bend is indicative of
the depth of the hole made by the hoof; one sees
that an extra inch makes a tremendous difference.
We are picking up last year's cairns with great
ease, and all show up very distinctly. This is extremely
satisfactory for the homeward march. What with pony
walls, camp sites and cairns, our track should be
easily followed the whole way. Everyone is as fit
as can be. It was wonderfully warm as we camped
this morning at 11 o'clock; the wind has dropped
completely and the sun shines gloriously. Men and
ponies revel in such weather. One devoutly hopes
for a good spell of it as we recede from the windy
northern region. The dogs came up soon after we
had camped, travelling easily.
Thursday, November 9
Camp 6. Sticking to programme,
we are going a little over the 10 miles (geo.) nightly.
Atkinson started his party at 11 and went on for
7 miles to escape a cold little night breeze which
quickly dropped. He was some time at his lunch camp,
so that starting to join the rearguard we came in
together the last 2 miles. The experience showed
that the slow advance guard ponies are forced out
of their place by joining with the others, whilst
the fast rearguard is reduced in speed. Obviously
it is not an advantage to be together, yet all the
ponies are doing well. An amusing incident happened
when Wright left his pony to examine his sledgemeter.
Chinaman evidently didn't like being left behind
and set off at a canter to rejoin the main body.
Wright's long legs barely carried him fast enough
to stop this fatal stampede, but the ridiculous
sight was due to the fact that old Jehu caught the
infection and set off at a sprawling canter in Chinaman's
wake. As this is the pony we thought scarcely capable
of a single march at start, one is agreeably surprised
to find him still displaying such commendable spirit.
Christopher is troublesome as ever at the start;
I fear that signs of tameness will only indicate
absence of strength. The dogs followed us so easily
over the 10 miles that Meares thought of going on
again, but finally decided that the present easy
work is best.
Things look hopeful. The weather is beautiful--temp.
-12°, with a bright sun. Some stratus cloud about
Discovery and over White Island. The sastrugi about
here are very various in direction and the surface
a good deal ploughed up, showing that the Bluff
influences the wind direction even out as far as
this camp. The surface is hard; I take it about
as good as we shall get.
There is an annoying little southerly wind blowing
now, and this serves to show the beauty of our snow
walls. The ponies are standing under their lee in
the bright sun as comfortable as can possibly be.
Friday, November 10
Camp 7. A very horrid march.
A strong head wind during the first part--5 miles
(geo.)--then a snowstorm. Wright leading found steering
so difficult after three miles (geo.) that the party
decided to camp. Luckily just before camping he
rediscovered Evans' track (motor party) so that,
given decent weather, we shall be able to follow
this. The ponies did excellently as usual, but the
surface is good distinctly. The wind has dropped
and the weather is clearing now that we have camped.
It is disappointing to miss even 1 1/2 miles.
Christopher was started to-day by a ruse. He was
harnessed behind his wall and was in the sledge
before he realised. Then he tried to bolt, but Titus
hung on.
Saturday, November 11
Camp 8. It cleared somewhat
just before the start of our march, but the snow
which had fallen in the day remained soft and flocculent
on the surface. Added to this we entered on an area
of soft crust between a few scattered hard sastrugi.
In pits between these in places the snow lay in
sandy heaps. A worse set of conditions for the ponies
could scarcely be imagined. Nevertheless they came
through pretty well, the strong ones excellently,
but the crocks had had enough at 9 1/2 miles. Such
a surface makes one anxious in spite of the rapidity
with which changes take place. I expected these
marches to be a little difficult, but not near so
bad as to-day. It is snowing again as we camp, with
a slight north-easterly breeze. It is difficult
to make out what is happening to the weather--it
is all part of the general warming up, but I wish
the sky would clear. In spite of the surface, the
dogs ran up from the camp before last, over 20 miles,
in the night. They are working splendidly so far.
Sunday, November 12
Camp 9. Our marches are uniformly
horrid just at present. The surface remains wretched,
not quite so heavy as yesterday, perhaps, but very
near it at times. Five miles out the advance party
came straight and true on our last year's Bluff
depot marked with a flagstaff. Here following I
found a note from Evans, cheerful in tone, dated
7 A.M. 7th inst. He is, therefore, the best part
of five days ahead of us, which is good. Atkinson
camped a mile beyond this cairn and had a very gloomy
account of Chinaman. Said he couldn't last more
than a mile or two. The weather was horrid, overcast,
gloomy, snowy. One's spirits became very low. However,
the crocks set off again, the rearguard came up,
passed us in camp, and then on the march about 3
miles on, so that they camped about the same time.
The Soldier thinks Chinaman will last for a good
many days yet, an extraordinary confession of hope
for him. The rest of the animals are as well as
can be expected--Jehu rather better. These weather
appearances change every minute. When we camped
there was a chill northerly breeze, a black sky,
and light falling snow. Now the sky is clearing
and the sun shining an hour later. The temperature
remains about -10° in the daytime.
Monday, November 13
Camp 10. Another horrid march
in a terrible light, surface very bad. Ponies came
through all well, but they are being tried hard
by the surface conditions. We followed tracks most
of the way, neither party seeing the other except
towards camping time. The crocks did well, all repeatedly.
Either the whole sky has been clear, or the overhanging
cloud has lifted from time to time to show the lower
rocks. Had we been dependent on land marks we should
have fared ill. Evidently a good system of cairns
is the best possible travelling arrangement on this
great snow plain. Meares and Demetri up with the
dogs as usual very soon after we camped.
This inpouring of warm moist air, which gives rise
to this heavy surface deposit at this season, is
certainly an interesting meteorological fact, accounting
as it does for the very sudden change in Barrier
conditions from spring to summer.
Wednesday, November
15
Camp 12. Found our One Ton
Camp without any difficulty [130 geographical miles
from Cape Evans]. About 7 or 8 miles. After 5 1/2
miles to lunch camp, Chinaman was pretty tired,
but went on again in good form after the rest. All
the other ponies made nothing of the march, which,
however, was over a distinctly better surface. After
a discussion we had decided to give the animals
a day's rest here, and then to push forward at the
rate of 13 geographical miles a day. Oates thinks
the ponies will get through, but that they have
lost condition quicker than he expected. Considering
his usually pessimistic attitude this must be thought
a hopeful view. Personally I am much more hopeful.
I think that a good many of the beasts are actually
in better form than when they started, and that
there is no need to be alarmed about the remainder,
always excepting the weak ones which we have always
regarded with doubt. Well, we must wait and see
how things go.
A note from Evans dated the 9th, stating his party
has gone on to 80° 30', carrying four boxes of
biscuit. He has done something over 30 miles (geo.)
in 2 1/2 days--exceedingly good going. I only hope
he has built lots of good cairns.
It was a very beautiful day yesterday, bright sun,
but as we marched, towards midnight, the sky gradually
became overcast; very beautiful halo rings formed
around the sun. Four separate rings were very distinct.
Wilson descried a fifth--the orange colour with
blue interspace formed very fine contrasts. We now
clearly see the corona ring on the snow surface.
The spread of stratus cloud overhead was very remarkable.
The sky was blue all around the horizon, but overhead
a cumulo-stratus grew early; it seemed to be drifting
to the south and later to the east. The broken cumulus
slowly changed to a uniform stratus, which seems
to be thinning as the sun gains power. There is
a very thin light fall of snow crystals, but the
surface deposit seems to be abating the evaporation
for the moment, outpacing the light snowfall. The
crystals barely exist a moment when they light on
our equipment, so that everything on and about the
sledges is drying rapidly. When the sky was clear
above the horizon we got a good view of the distant
land all around to the west; white patches of mountains
to the W.S.W. must be 120 miles distant. During
the night we saw Discovery and the Royal Society
Range, the first view for many days, but we have
not seen Erebus for a week, and in that direction
the clouds seem ever to concentrate. It is very
interesting to watch the weather phenomena of the
Barrier, but one prefers the sunshine to days such
as this, when everything is blankly white and a
sense of oppression is inevitable.
The temperature fell to -15° last night, with a
clear sky; it rose to 0° directly the sky covered
and is now just 16° to 20°. Most of us are using
goggles with glass of light green tint. We find
this colour very grateful to the eyes, and as a
rule it is possible to see everything through them
even more clearly than with naked vision.
The hard sastrugi are now all from the W.S.W. and
our cairns are drifted up by winds from that direction;
mostly, though, there has evidently been a range
of snow-bearing winds round to south. This observation
holds from Corner Camp to this camp, showing that
apparently all along the coast the wind comes from
the land. The minimum thermometer left here shows
-73°, rather less than expected; it has been excellently
exposed and evidently not at all drifted up with
snow at any time. I cannot find the oats I scattered
here--rather fear the drift has covered them, but
other evidences show that the snow deposit has been
very small.
Thursday, November 16
Camp 12. Resting. A stiff little
southerly breeze all day, dropping towards evening.
The temperature -15°. Ponies pretty comfortable
in rugs and behind good walls. We have reorganised
the loads, taking on about 580 lbs. with the stronger
ponies, 400 odd with the others.
Friday, November 17
Camp 13. Atkinson started about
8.30. We came on about 11, the whole of the remainder.
The lunch camp was 7 1/2 miles. Atkinson left as
we came in. He was an hour before us at the final
camp, 13 1/4 (geo.) miles. On the whole, and considering
the weights, the ponies did very well, but the surface
was comparatively good. Christopher showed signs
of trouble at start, but was coaxed into position
for the traces to be hooked. There was some ice
on his runner and he had a very heavy drag, therefore
a good deal done on arrival; also his load seems
heavier and deader than the others. It is early
days to wonder whether the little beasts will last;
one can only hope they will, but the weakness of
breeding and age is showing itself already.
The crocks have done wonderfully, so there is really
no saying how long or well the fitter animals may
go. We had a horribly cold wind on the march. Temp.
-18°, force 3. The sun was shining but seemed to
make little difference. It is still shining brightly,
temp. 11°. Behind the pony walls it is wonderfully
warm and the animals look as snug as possible.
Saturday, November 18
Camp 14. The ponies are not
pulling well. The surface is, if anything, a little
worse than yesterday, but I should think about the
sort of thing we shall have to expect henceforward.
I had a panic that we were carrying too much food
and this morning we have discussed the matter and
decided we can leave a sack. We have done the usual
13 miles (geog.) with a few hundred yards to make
the 15 statute. The temperature was -21° when we
camped last night, now it is -3°. The crocks are
going on, very wonderfully. Oates gives Chinaman
at least three days, and Wright says he may go for
a week. This is slightly inspiriting, but how much
better would it have been to have had ten really
reliable beasts. It's touch and go whether we scrape
up to the Glacier; meanwhile we get along somehow.
At any rate the bright sunshine makes everything
look more hopeful.
Sunday, November 19
Camp 15. We have struck a real
bad surface, sledges pulling well over it, but ponies
sinking very deep. The result is to about finish
Jehu. He was terribly done on getting in to-night.
He may go another march, but not more, I think.
Considering the surface the other ponies did well.
The ponies occasionally sink halfway to the hock,
little Michael once or twice almost to the hock
itself. Luckily the weather now is glorious for
resting the animals, which are very placid and quiet
in the brilliant sun. The sastrugi are confused,
the underlying hard patches appear as before to
have been formed by a W.S.W. wind, but there are
some surface waves pointing to a recent south-easterly
wind. Have been taking some photographs, Bowers
also.
Monday, November 20
Camp 16. The surface a little
better. Sastrugi becoming more and more definite
from S.E. Struck a few hard patches which made me
hopeful of much better things, but these did not
last long. The crocks still go. Jehu seems even
a little better than yesterday, and will certainly
go another march. Chinaman reported bad the first
half march, but bucked up the second. The dogs found
the surface heavy. To-morrow I propose to relieve
them of a forage bag. The sky was slightly overcast
during the march, with radiating cirro-stratus S.S.W.-N.N.E.
Now very clear and bright again. Temp, at night
-14°, now 4°. A very slight southerly breeze,
from which the walls protect the animals well. I
feel sure that the long day's rest in the sun is
very good for all of them.
Our ponies marched very steadily last night. They
seem to take the soft crusts and difficult plodding
surface more easily. The loss of condition is not
so rapid as noticed to One Ton Camp, except perhaps
in Victor, who is getting to look very gaunt. Nobby
seems fitter and stronger than when he started;
he alone is ready to go all his feed at any time
and as much more as he can get. The rest feel fairly
well, but they are getting a very big strong ration.
I am beginning to feel more hopeful about them.
Christopher kicked the bow of his sledge in towards
the end of the march. He must have a lot left in
him though.
Tuesday, November 21
Camp 17. Lat. 80° 35'. The
surface decidedly better and the ponies very steady
on the march. None seem overtired, and now it is
impossible not to take a hopeful view of their prospect
of pulling through. (Temp. -14°, night.) The only
circumstance to be feared is a reversion to bad
surfaces, and that ought not to happen on this course.
We marched to the usual lunch camp and saw a large
cairn ahead. Two miles beyond we came on the Motor
Party in Lat. 80° 32'. We learned that they had
been waiting for six days. They all look very fit,
but declare themselves to be very hungry. This is
interesting as showing conclusively that a ration
amply sufficient for the needs of men leading ponies
is quite insufficient for men doing hard pulling
work; it therefore fully justifies the provision
which we have made for the Summit work. Even on
that I have little doubt we shall soon get hungry.
Day looks very thin, almost gaunt, but fit. The
weather is beautiful--long may it so continue. (Temp.
+6°, 11 A.M.)
It is decided to take on the Motor Party in advance
for three days, then Day and Hooper return. We hope
Jehu will last three days; he will then be finished
in any case and fed to the dogs. It is amusing to
see Meares looking eagerly for the chance of a feed
for his animals; he has been expecting it daily.
On the other hand, Atkinson and Oates are eager
to get the poor animal beyond the point at which
Shackleton killed his first beast. Reports on Chinaman
are very favourable, and it really looks as though
the ponies are going to do what is hoped of them.
Wednesday, November
22
Camp 18. Everything much the
same. The ponies thinner but not much weaker. The
crocks still going along. Jehu is now called 'The
Barrier Wonder' and Chinaman 'The Thunderbolt.'
Two days more and they will be well past the spot
at which Shackleton killed his first animal. Nobby
keeps his pre-eminence of condition and has now
the heaviest load by some 50 lbs.; most of the others
are under 500 lbs. load, and I hope will be eased
further yet. The dogs are in good form still, and
came up well with their loads this morning (night
temp. -14°). It looks as though we ought to get
through to the Glacier without great difficulty.
The weather is glorious and the ponies can make
the most of their rest during the warmest hours,
but they certainly lose in one way by marching at
night. The surface is much easier for the sledges
when the sun is warm, and for about three hours
before and after midnight the friction noticeably
increases. It is just a question whether this extra
weight on the loads is compensated by the resting
temperature. We are quite steady on the march now,
and though not fast yet get through with few stops.
The animals seem to be getting accustomed to the
steady, heavy plod and take the deep places less
fussily. There is rather an increased condition
of false crust, that is, a crust which appears firm
till the whole weight of the animal is put upon
it, when it suddenly gives some three or four inches.
This is very trying for the poor beasts. There are
also more patches in which the men sink, so that
walking is getting more troublesome, but, speaking
broadly, the crusts are not comparatively bad and
the surface is rather better than it was. If the
hot sun continues this should still further improve.
One cannot see any reason why the crust should change
in the next 100 miles. (Temp. + 2°.)
The land is visible along the western horizon in
patches. Bowers points out a continuous dark band.
Is this the dolerite sill?
Thursday, November 23
Camp 19. Getting along. I think
the ponies will get through; we are now 150 geographical
miles from the Glacier. But it is still rather touch
and go. If one or more ponies were to go rapidly
down hill we might be in queer street. The surface
is much the same I think; before lunch there seemed
to be a marked improvement, and after lunch the
ponies marched much better, so that one supposed
a betterment of the friction. It is banking up to
the south (T. +9°) and I'm afraid we may get a
blizzard. I hope to goodness it is not going to
stop one marching; forage won't allow that.
Friday, November 24
Camp 20. There was a
cold wind changing from south to S.E. and overcast
sky all day yesterday. A gloomy start to our march,
but the cloud rapidly lifted, bands of clear sky
broke through from east to west, and the remnants
of cloud dissipated. Now the sun is very bright
and warm. We did the usual march very easily over
a fairly good surface, the ponies now quite steady
and regular. Since the junction with the Motor Party
the procedure has been for the man-hauling people
to go forward just ahead of the crocks, the other
party following 2 or 3 hours later. To-day we closed
less than usual, so that the crocks must have been
going very well. However, the fiat had already gone
forth, and this morning after the march poor old
Jehu was led back on the track and shot. After our
doubts as to his reaching Hut Point, it is wonderful
to think that he has actually got eight marches
beyond our last year limit and could have gone more.
However, towards the end he was pulling very little,
and on the whole it is merciful to have ended his
life. Chinaman seems to improve and will certainly
last a good many days yet. The rest show no signs
of flagging and are only moderately hungry. The
surface is tiring for walking, as one sinks two
or three inches nearly all the time. I feel we ought
to get through now. Day and Hooper leave us to-night.
Saturday, November 25
Camp 21. The surface
during the first march was very heavy owing to a
liberal coating of ice crystals; it improved during
the second march becoming quite good towards the
end (T.-2°). Now that it is pretty warm at night
it is obviously desirable to work towards day marching.
We shall start 2 hours later to-night and again
to-morrow night.
Last night we bade farewell to Day and Hooper and
set out with the new organisation (T.-8°). All
started together, the man-haulers, Evans, Lashly,
and Atkinson, going ahead with their gear on the
10-ft. sledge. Chinaman and James Pigg next, and
the rest some ten minutes behind. We reached the
lunch camp together and started therefrom in the
same order, the two crocks somewhat behind, but
not more than 300 yards at the finish, so we all
got into camp very satisfactorily together. The
men said the first march was extremely heavy (T.-(-2°).
The sun has been shining all night, but towards
midnight light mist clouds arose, half obscuring
the leading parties. Land can be dimly discerned
nearly ahead. The ponies are slowly tiring, but
we lighten loads again to-morrow by making another
depot. Meares has just come up to report that Jehu
made four feeds for the dogs. He cut up very well
and had quite a lot of fat on him. Meares says another
pony will carry him to the Glacier. This is very
good hearing. The men are pulling with ski sticks
and say that they are a great assistance. I think
of taking them up the Glacier. Jehu has certainly
come up trumps after all, and Chinaman bids fair
to be even more valuable. Only a few more marches
to feel safe in getting to our first goal.
Sunday, November 26
Camp 22. Lunch camp. Marched
here fairly easily, comparatively good surface.
Started at 1 A.M. (midnight, local time). We now
keep a steady pace of 2 miles an hour, very good
going. The sky was slightly overcast at start and
between two and three it grew very misty. Before
we camped we lost sight of the men-haulers only
300 yards ahead. The sun is piercing the mist. Here
in Lat. 81° 35' we are leaving our 'Middle Barrier
Depot,' one week for each re unit as at Mount Hooper.
Camp 22
Snow began falling during the
second march; it is blowing from the W.S.W., force
2 to 3, with snow pattering on the tent, a kind
of summery blizzard that reminds one of April showers
at home. The ponies came well on the second march
and we shall start 2 hours later again to-morrow,
i.e. at 3 A.M. (T.+13°). From this it will be a
very short step to day routine when the time comes
for man-hauling. The sastrugi seem to be gradually
coming more to the south and a little more confused;
now and again they are crossed with hard westerly
sastrugi. The walking is tiring for the men, one's
feet sinking 2 or 3 inches at each step. Chinaman
and Jimmy Pigg kept up splendidly with the other
ponies. It is always rather dismal work walking
over the great snow plain when sky and surface merge
in one pall of dead whiteness, but it is cheering
to be in such good company with everything going
on steadily and well. The dogs came up as we camped.
Meares says the best surface he has had yet.
Monday, November 27
Camp 23. (T. +8°, 12 P.M.;
+2°, 3 A.M.; +13°, 11 A.M.; +17°, 3 P.M.) Quite
the most trying march we have had. The surface very
poor at start. The advance party got away in front
but made heavy weather of it, and we caught them
up several times. This threw the ponies out of their
regular work and prolonged the march. It grew overcast
again, although after a summery blizzard all yesterday
there was promise of better things. Starting at
3 A.M. we did not get to lunch camp much before
9. The second march was even worse. The advance
party started on ski, the leading marks failed altogether,
and they had the greatest difficulty in keeping
a course. At the midcairn building halt the snow
suddenly came down heavily, with a rise of temperature,
and the ski became hopelessly clogged (bad fahrer,
as the Norwegians say). At this time the surface
was unspeakably heavy for pulling, but in a few
minutes a south wind sprang up and a beneficial
result was immediately felt. Pulling on foot, the
advance had even greater difficulty in going straight
until the last half mile, when the sky broke slightly.
We got off our march, but under the most harassing
circumstances and with the animals very tired. It
is snowing hard again now, and heaven only knows
when it will stop.
If it were not for the surface and bad light, things
would not be so bad. There are few sastrugi and
little deep snow. For the most part men and ponies
sink to a hard crust some 3 or 4 inches beneath
the soft upper snow. Tiring for the men, but in
itself more even, and therefore less tiring for
the animals. Meares just come up and reporting very
bad surface. We shall start 1 hour later to-morrow,
i.e. at 4 A.M., making 5 hours' delay on the conditions
of three days ago. Our forage supply necessitates
that we should plug on the 13 (geographical) miles
daily under all conditions, so that we can only
hope for better things. It is several days since
we had a glimpse of land, which makes conditions
especially gloomy. A tired animal makes a tired
man, I find, and none of us are very bright now
after the day's march, though we have had ample
sleep of late.
Tuesday, November 28
Camp 24. The most dismal start
imaginable. Thick as a hedge, snow falling and drifting
with keen southerly wind. The men pulled out at
3.15 with Chinaman and James Pigg. We followed at
4.20, just catching the party at the lunch camp
at 8.30. Things got better half way; the sky showed
signs of clearing and the steering improved. Now,
at lunch, it is getting thick again. When will the
wretched blizzard be over? The walking is better
for ponies, worse for men; there is nearly everywhere
a hard crust some 3 to 6 inches down. Towards the
end of the march we crossed a succession of high
hard south-easterly sastrugi, widely dispersed.
I don't know what to make of these.
Second march almost as horrid as the first. Wind
blowing strong from the south, shifting to S.E.
as the snowstorms fell on us, when we could see
little or nothing, and the driving snow hit us stingingly
in the face. The general impression of all this
dirty weather is that it spreads in from the S.E.
We started at 4 A.M., and I think I shall stick
to that custom for the present. These last four
marches have been fought for, but completed without
hitch, and, though we camped in a snowstorm, there
is a more promising look in the sky, and if only
for a time the wind has dropped and the sun shines
brightly, dispelling some of the gloomy results
of the distressing marching.
Chinaman, 'The Thunderbolt,' has been shot to-night.
Plucky little chap, he has stuck it out well and
leaves the stage but a few days before his fellows.
We have only four bags of forage (each one 30 lbs.)
left, but these should give seven marches with all
the remaining animals, and we are less than 90 miles
from the Glacier. Bowers tells me that the barometer
was phenomenally low both during this blizzard and
the last. This has certainly been the most unexpected
and trying summer blizzard yet experienced in this
region. I only trust it is over. There is not much
to choose between the remaining ponies. Nobby and
Bones are the strongest, Victor and Christopher
the weakest, but all should get through. The land
doesn't show up yet.
Wednesday, November
29
Camp 25. Lat. 82° 21'. Things
much better. The land showed up late yesterday;
Mount Markham, a magnificent triple peak, appearing
wonderfully close, Cape Lyttelton and Cape Goldie.
We did our march in good time, leaving about 4.20,
and getting into this camp at 1.15. About 7 1/2
hours on the march. I suppose our speed throughout
averages 2 stat. miles an hour.
The land showed hazily on the march, at times looking
remarkably near. Sheety white snowy stratus cloud
hung about overhead during the first march, but
now the sky is clearing, the sun very warm and bright.
Land shows up almost ahead now, our pony goal less
than 70 miles away. The ponies are tired, but I
believe all have five days' work left in them, and
some a great deal more. Chinaman made four feeds
for the dogs, and I suppose we can count every other
pony as a similar asset. It follows that the dogs
can be employed, rested, and fed well on the homeward
track. We could really get though now with their
help and without much delay, yet every consideration
makes it desirable to save the men from heavy hauling
as long as possible. So I devoutly hope the 70 miles
will come in the present order of things. Snippets
and Nobby now walk by themselves, following in the
tracks well. Both have a continually cunning eye
on their driver, ready to stop the moment he pauses.
They eat snow every few minutes. It's a relief not
having to lead an animal; such trifles annoy one
on these marches, the animal's vagaries, his everlasting
attempts to eat his head rope, &c. Yet all these
animals are very full of character. Some day I must
write of them and their individualities.
The men-haulers started 1 1/2 hours before us and
got here a good hour ahead, travelling easily throughout.
Such is the surface with the sun on it, justifying
my decision to work towards day marching. Evans
has suggested the word 'glide' for the quality of
surface indicated. 'Surface' is more comprehensive,
and includes the crusts and liability to sink in
them. From this point of view the surface is distinctly
bad. The ponies plough deep all the time, and the
men most of the time. The sastrugi are rather more
clearly S.E.; this would be from winds sweeping
along the coast. We have a recurrence of 'sinking
crusts'--areas which give way with a report. There
has been little of this since we left One Ton Camp
until yesterday and to-day, when it is again very
marked. Certainly the open Barrier conditions are
different from those near the coast. Altogether
things look much better and everyone is in excellent
spirits. Meares has been measuring the holes made
by ponies' hooves and finds an average of about
8 inches since we left One Ton Camp. He finds many
holes a foot deep. This gives a good indication
of the nature of the work. In Bowers' tent they
had some of Chinaman's undercut in their hoosh yesterday,
and say it was excellent. I am cook for the present.
Have been discussing pony snowshoes. I wish to goodness
the animals would wear them--it would save them
any amount of labour in such surfaces as this.
Thursday, November 30
Camp 26. A very pleasant day
for marching, but a very tiring march for the poor
animals, which, with the exception of Nobby, are
showing signs of failure all round. We were slower
by half an hour or more than yesterday. Except that
the loads are light now and there are still eight
animals left, things don't look too pleasant, but
we should be less than 60 miles from our first point
of aim. The surface was much worse to-day, the ponies
sinking to their knees very often. There were a
few harder patches towards the end of the march.
In spite of the sun there was not much 'glide' on
the snow. The dogs are reported as doing very well.
They are going to be a great standby, no doubt.
The land has been veiled in thin white mist; it
appeared at intervals after we camped and I had
taken a couple of photographs.
Friday, December 1
Camp 27. Lat. 82° 47'. The
ponies are tiring pretty rapidly. It is a question
of days with all except Nobby. Yet they are outlasting
the forage, and to-night against some opinion I
decided Christopher must go. He has been shot; less
regret goes with him than the others, in remembrance
of all the trouble he gave at the outset, and the
unsatisfactory way he has gone of late. Here we
leave a depot [31] so that no extra weight is brought
on the other ponies; in fact there is a slight diminution.
Three more marches ought to bring us through. With
the seven crocks and the dog teams we must get through
I think. The men alone ought not to have heavy loads
on the surface, which is extremely trying.
Nobby was tried in snowshoes this morning, and came
along splendidly on them for about four miles, then
the wretched affairs racked and had to be taken
off. There is no doubt that these snowshoes are
the thing for ponies, and had ours been able to
use them from the beginning they would have been
very different in appearance at this moment. I think
the sight of land has helped the animals, but not
much. We started in bright warm sunshine and with
the mountains wonderfully clear on our right hand,
but towards the end of the march clouds worked up
from the east and a thin broken cumulo-stratus now
overspreads the sky, leaving the land still visible
but dull. A fine glacier descends from Mount Longstaff.
It has cut very deep and the walls stand at an angle
of at least 50°. Otherwise, although there are
many cwms on the lower ranges, the mountains themselves
seem little carved. They are rounded massive structures.
A cliff of light yellow-brown rock appears opposite
us, flanked with black or dark brown rock, which
also appears under the lighter colour. One would
be glad to know what nature of rock these represent.
There is a good deal of exposed rock on the next
range also.
Saturday, December 2
Camp 28. Lat. 83°. Started
under very bad weather conditions. The stratus spreading
over from the S.E. last night meant mischief, and
all day we marched in falling snow with a horrible
light. The ponies went poorly on the first march,
when there was little or no wind and a high temperature.
They were sinking deep on a wretched surface. I
suggested to Oates that he should have a roving
commission to watch the animals, but he much preferred
to lead one, so I handed over Snippets very willingly
and went on ski myself. It was very easy work for
me and I took several photographs of the ponies
plunging along--the light very strong at 3 (Watkins
actinometer). The ponies did much better on the
second march, both surface and glide improved; I
went ahead and found myself obliged to take a very
steady pace to keep the lead, so we arrived in camp
in flourishing condition. Sad to have to order Victor's
end--poor Bowers feels it. He is in excellent condition
and will provide five feeds for the dogs. (Temp.
+ 17°.) We must kill now as the forage is so short,
but we have reached the 83rd parallel and are practically
safe to get through. To-night the sky is breaking
and conditions generally more promising--it is dreadfully
dismal work marching through the blank wall of white,
and we should have very great difficulty if we had
not a party to go ahead and show the course. The
dogs are doing splendidly and will take a heavier
load from to-morrow. We kill another pony to-morrow
night if we get our march off, and shall then have
nearly three days' food for the other five. In fact
everything looks well if the weather will only give
us a chance to see our way to the Glacier. Wild,
in his Diary of Shackleton's Journey, remarks on
December 15, that it is the first day for a month
that he could not record splendid weather. With
us a fine day has been the exception so far. However,
we have not lost a march yet. It was so warm when
we camped that the snow melted as it fell, and everything
got sopping wet. Oates came into my tent yesterday,
exchanging with Cherry-Garrard.
The lists now: Self, Wilson, Oates, and Keohane.
Bowers, P.O. Evans, Cherry and Crean.
Man-haulers: E. R. Evans, Atkinson, Wright, and
Lashly. We have all taken to horse meat and are
so well fed that hunger isn't thought of.
Sunday, December 3
Camp 29. Our luck in weather
is preposterous. I roused the hands at 2.30 A.M.,
intending to get away at 5. It was thick and snowy,
yet we could have got on; but at breakfast the wind
increased, and by 4.30 it was blowing a full gale
from the south. The pony wall blew down, huge drifts
collected, and the sledges were quickly buried.
It was the strongest wind I have known here in summer.
At 11 it began to take off. At 12.30 we got up and
had lunch and got ready to start. The land appeared,
the clouds broke, and by 1.30 we were in bright
sunshine. We were off at 2 P.M., the land showing
all round, and, but for some cloud to the S.E.,
everything promising. At 2.15 I saw the south-easterly
cloud spreading up; it blotted out the land 30 miles
away at 2.30 and was on us before 3. The sun went
out, snow fell thickly, and marching conditions
became horrible. The wind increased from the S.E.,
changed to S.W., where it hung for a time, and suddenly
shifted to W.N.W. and then N.N.W., from which direction
it is now blowing with falling and drifting snow.
The changes of conditions are inconceivably rapid,
perfectly bewildering. In spite of all these difficulties
we have managed to get 11 1/2 miles south and to
this camp at 7 P.M.-the conditions of marching simply
horrible.
The man-haulers led out 6 miles (geo.) and then
camped. I think they had had enough of leading.
We passed them, Bowers and I ahead on ski. We steered
with compass, the drifting snow across our ski,
and occasional glimpse of south-easterly sastrugi
under them, till the sun showed dimly for the last
hour or so. The whole weather conditions seem thoroughly
disturbed, and if they continue so when we are on
the Glacier, we shall be very awkwardly placed.
It is really time the luck turned in our favour--we
have had all too little of it. Every mile seems
to have been hardly won under such conditions. The
ponies did splendidly and the forage is lasting
a little better than expected. Victor was found
to have quite a lot of fat on him and the others
are pretty certain to have more, so that vwe should
have no difficulty whatever as regards transport
if only the weather was kind.
Monday, December 4
Camp 29, 9 A.M. I roused the
party at 6. During the night the wind had changed
from N.N.W. to S.S.E.; it was not strong, but the
sun was obscured and the sky looked heavy; patches
of land could be faintly seen and we thought that
at any rate we could get on, but during breakfast
the wind suddenly increased in force and afterwards
a glance outside was sufficient to show a regular
white floury blizzard. We have all been out building
fresh walls for the ponies--an uninviting task,
but one which greatly adds to the comfort of the
animals, who look sleepy and bored, but not at all
cold. The dogs came up with us as we camped last
night arid the man-haulers arrived this morning
as we finished the pony wall. So we are all together
again. The latter had great difficulty in following
our tracks, and say they could not have steered
a course without them. It is utterly impossible
to push ahead in this weather, and one is at a complete
loss to account for it. The barometer rose from
29.4 to 29.9 last night, a phenomenal rise. Evidently
there is very great disturbance of atmospheric conditions.
Well, one must stick it out, that is all, and hope
for better things, but it makes me feel a little
bitter to contrast such weather with that experienced
by our predecessors.
Camp 30
The wind fell in the forenoon,
at 12.30 the sky began to clear, by 1 the sun shone,
by 2 P.M. we were away, and by 8 P.M. camped here
with 13 miles to the good. The land was quite clear
throughout the march and the features easily recognised.
There are several uncharted glaciers of large dimensions,
a confluence of three under Mount Reid. The mountains
are rounded in outline, very massive, with small
excrescent peaks and undeveloped 'cwms' (T. + 18°).
The cwms are very fine in the lower foot-hills and
the glaciers have carved deep channels between walls
at very high angles; one or two peaks on the foot-hills
stand bare and almost perpendicular, probably granite;
we should know later. Ahead of us is the ice-rounded,
boulder-strewn Mount Hope and the gateway to the
Glacier. We should reach it easily enough on to-morrow's
march if we can compass 12 miles. The ponies marched
splendidly to-day, crossing the deep snow in the
undulations without difficulty. They must be in
very much better condition than Shackleton's animals,
and indeed there isn't a doubt they would go many
miles yet if food allowed. The dogs are simply splendid,
but came in wanting food, so we had to sacrifice
poor little Michael, who, like the rest, had lots
of fat on him. All the tents are consuming pony
flesh and thoroughly enjoying it.
We have only lost 5 or 6 miles on these two wretched
days, but the disturbed condition of the weather
makes me anxious with regard to the Glacier, where
more than anywhere we shall need fine days. One
has a horrid feeling that this is a real bad season.
However, sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.
We are practically through with the first stage
of our journey. Looking from the last camp towards
the S.S.E., where the farthest land can be seen,
it seemed more than probable that a very high latitude
could be reached on the Barrier, and if Amundsen
journeying that way has a stroke of luck, he may
well find his summit journey reduced to 100 miles
or so. In any case it is a fascinating direction
for next year's work if only fresh transport arrives.
The dips between undulations seem to be about 12
to 15 feet. To-night we get puffs of wind from the
gateway, which for the moment looks uninviting.
Four Days' Delay
Tuesday, December 5
Camp 30. Noon. We awoke this
morning to a raging, howling blizzard. The blows
we have had hitherto have lacked the very fine powdery
snow--that especial feature of the blizzard. To-day
we have it fully developed. After a minute or two
in the open one is covered from head to foot. The
temperature is high, so that what falls or drives
against one sticks. The ponies--head, tails, legs,
and all parts not protected by their rugs--are covered
with ice; the animals are standing deep in snow,
the sledges are almost covered, and huge drifts
above the tents. We have had breakfast, rebuilt
the walls, and are now again in our bags. One cannot
see the next tent, let alone the land. What on earth
does such weather mean at this time of year? It
is more than our share of ill-fortune, I think,
but the luck may turn yet. I doubt if any party
could travel in such weather even with the wind,
certainly no one could travel against it.
Is there some widespread atmospheric disturbance
which will be felt everywhere in this region as
a bad season, or are we merely the victims of exceptional
local conditions? If the latter, there is food for
thought in picturing our small party struggling
against adversity in one place whilst others go
smilingly forward in the sunshine. How great may
be the element of luck! No foresight--no procedure--could
have prepared us for this state of affairs. Had
we been ten times as experienced or certain of our
aim we should not have expected such rebuffs.
11 P.M
It has blown hard all day with
quite the greatest snowfall I remember. The drifts
about the tents are simply huge. The temperature
was + 27° this forenoon, and rose to +31° in the
afternoon, at which time the snow melted as it fell
on anything but the snow, and, as a consequence,
there are pools of water on everything, the tents
are wet through, also the wind clothes, night boots,
&c.; water drips from the tent poles and door, lies
on the floorcloth, soaks the sleeping-bags, and
makes everything pretty wretched. If a cold snap
follows before we have had time to dry our things,
we shall be mighty uncomfortable. Yet after all
it would be humorous enough if it were not for the
seriousness of delay--we can't afford that, and
it's real hard luck that it should come at such
a time. The wind shows signs of easing down, but
the temperature does not fall and the snow is as
wet as ever--not promising signs of abatement.
Keohane's rhyme!
The snow is all melting and everything's afloat,
If this goes on much longer we shall have to turn
the tent upside down and use it as a boat.
Wednesday, December
6
Camp 30. Noon. Miserable, utterly
miserable. We have camped in the 'Slough of Despond.'
The tempest rages with unabated violence. The temperature
has gone to 33°; everything in the tent is soaking.
People returning from the outside look exactly as
though they had been in a heavy shower of rain.
They drip pools on the floorcloth. The snow is steadily
climbing higher about walls, ponies, tents, and
sledges. The ponies look utterly desolate. Oh! but
this is too crushing, and we are only 12 miles from
the Glacier. A hopeless feeling descends on one
and is hard to fight off. What immense patience
is needed for such occasions!
11 P.M
At 5 there came signs of a
break at last, and now one can see the land, but
the sky is still overcast and there is a lot of
snow about. The wind also remains fairly strong
and the temperature high. It is not pleasant, but
if no worse in the morning we can get on at last.
We are very, very wet.
Thursday, December 7
Camp 30. The storm continues
and the situation is now serious. One small feed
remains for the ponies after to-day, so that we
must either march to-morrow or sacrifice the animals.
That is not the worst; with the help of the dogs
we could get on, without doubt. The serious part
is that we have this morning started our summer
rations, that is to say, the food calculated from
the Glacier depot has been begun. The first supporting
party can only go on a fortnight from this date
and so forth. The storm shows no sign of abatement
and its character is as unpleasant as ever. The
promise of last night died away about 3 A.M., when
the temperature and wind rose again, and things
reverted to the old conditions. I can find no sign
of an end, and all of us agree that it is utterly
impossible to move. Resignation to misfortune is
the only attitude, but not an easy one to adopt.
It seems undeserved where plans were well laid and
so nearly crowned with a first success. I cannot
see that any plan would be altered if it were to
do again, the margin for bad weather was ample according
to all experience, and this stormy December--our
finest month--is a thing that the most cautious
organiser might not have been prepared to encounter.
It is very evil to lie here in a wet sleeping-bag
and think of the pity of it, whilst with no break
in the overcast sky things go steadily from bad
to worse (T. 32°). Meares has a bad attack of snow
blindness in one eye. I hope this rest will help
him, but he says it has been painful for a long
time. There cannot be good cheer in the camp in
such weather, but it is ready to break out again.
In the brief spell of hope last night one heard
laughter.
Midnight. Little or no improvement. The barometer
is rising--perhaps there is hope in that. Surely
few situations could be more exasperating than this
of forced inactivity when every day and indeed one
hour counts. To be here watching the mottled wet
green walls of our tent, the glistening wet bamboos,
the bedraggled sopping socks and loose articles
dangling in the middle, the saddened countenances
of my companions--to hear the everlasting patter
of the falling snow and the ceaseless rattle of
the fluttering canvas--to feel the wet clinging
dampness of clothes and everything touched, and
to know that without there is but a blank wall of
white on every side--these are the physical surroundings.
Add the stress of sighted failure of our whole plan,
and anyone must find the circumstances unenviable.
But yet, after all, one can go on striving, endeavouring
to find a stimulation in the difficulties that arise.
Friday, December 8
Camp 30. Hoped against hope
for better conditions, to wake to the mournfullest
snow and wind as usual. We had breakfast at 10,
and at noon the wind dropped. We set about digging
out the sledges, no light task. We then shifted
our tent sites. All tents had been reduced to the
smallest volume by the gradual pressure of snow.
The old sites are deep pits with hollowed-in wet
centres. The re-setting of the tent has at least
given us comfort, especially since the wind has
dropped. About 4 the sky showed signs of breaking,
the sun and a few patches of land could be dimly
discerned. The wind shifted in light airs and a
little hope revived. Alas! as I write the sun has
disappeared and snow is again falling.
Our case is growing desperate. Evans and his man-haulers
tried to pull a load this afternoon. They managed
to move a sledge with four people on it, pulling
in ski. Pulling on foot they sank to the knees.
The snow all about us is terribly deep. We tried
Nobby and he plunged to his belly in it. Wilson
thinks the ponies finished, 21 but Oates thinks
they will get another march in spite of the surface,
if it comes to-morrow . If it should not, we must
kill the ponies to-morrow and get on as best we
can with the men on ski and the dogs. But one wonders
what the dogs can do on such a surface. I much fear
they also will prove inadequate. Oh! for fine weather,
if only to the Glacier. The temperature remains
33°, and everything is disgustingly wet.
11 P.M
The wind has gone to the north,
the sky is really breaking at last, the sun showing
less sparingly, and the land appearing out of the
haze. The temperature has fallen to 26°, and the
water nuisance is already bating. With so fair a
promise of improvement it would be too cruel to
have to face bad weather to-morrow. There is good
cheer in the camp to-night in the prospect of action.
The poor ponies look wistfully for the food of which
so very little remains, yet they are not hungry,
as recent savings have resulted from food left in
their nosebags. They look wonderfully fit, all things
considered. Everything looks more hopeful to-night,
but nothing can recall four lost days.
Saturday, December 9
Camp 31. I turned out two or
three times in the night to find the weather slowly
improving; at 5.30 we all got up, and at 8 got away
with the ponies--a most painful day. The tremendous
snowfall of the late storm had made the surface
intolerably soft, and after the first hour there
was no glide. We pressed on the poor half-rationed
animals, but could get none to lead for more than
a few minutes; following, the animals would do fairly
well. It looked as we could never make headway;
the man-haulers were pressed into the service to
aid matters. Bowers and Cherry-Garrard went ahead
with one 10-foot sledge,--thus most painfully we
made about a mile. The situation was saved by P.O.
Evans, who put the last pair of snowshoes on Snatcher.
From this he went on without much pressing, the
other ponies followed, and one by one were worn
out in the second place. We went on all day without
lunch. Three or four miles (T. 23°) found us engulfed
in pressures, but free from difficulty except the
awful softness of the snow. By 8 P.M. we had reached
within a mile or so of the slope ascending to the
gap which Shackleton called the Gateway. 22 I had
hoped to be through the Gateway with the ponies
still in hand at a very much earlier date and, but
for the devastating storm, we should have been.
It has been a most serious blow to us, but things
are not yet desperate, if only the storm has not
hopelessly spoilt the surface. The man-haulers are
not up yet, in spite of their light load. I think
they have stopped for tea, or something, but under
ordinary conditions they would have passed us with
ease.
At 8 P.M. the ponies were quite done, one and all.
They came on painfully slowly a few hundred yards
at a time. By this time I was hauling ahead, a ridiculously
light load, and yet finding the pulling heavy enough.
We camped, and the ponies have been shot. [32] Poor
beasts! they have done wonderfully well considering
the terrible circumstances under which they worked,
but yet it is hard to have to kill them so early.
The dogs are going well in spite of the surface,
but here again one cannot get the help one would
wish. (T. 19°.) I cannot load the animals heavily
on such snow. The scenery is most impressive; three
huge pillars of granite form the right buttress
of the Gateway, and a sharp spur of Mount Hope the
left. The land is much more snow covered than when
we saw it before the storm. In spite of some doubt
in our outlook, everyone is very cheerful to-night
and jokes are flying freely around.
CHAPTER
XVII - ON THE BEARDMORE GLACIER