Chapter 10 - THE PREPARATION OF SLEDGING EQUIPMENT
The
Home of the Blizzard By Douglas Mawson
Preface
Chapters:
1 - The Problem
and Preparations |
2 - The Last
Days of Hobart and the Voyage to Macquarie Island |
3 - From Macquarie
Island to Adelie Land |
4 - New Lands
| 5 - First
Days in Adelie Land |
6 - Autumn
Prospects |
7 - The Blizzard |
8 - Domestic
Life | 9
- Midwinter and its Work |
10 - The
Preparation of Sledging Equipment |
11 - Spring
Exploits |
12 - Across King George V Land |
13 - Toil
and Tribulation |
14 -
The Quest of the South Magnetic Pole
| 15
- Eastward Over the Sea-Ice |
16 - Horn
Bluff and Penguin Point |
17 - With
Stillwell's and Bickerton's Parties |
18 - The
Ship's Story |
19 - The
Western Base - Establishment and Early Adventures |
20 - The
Western base - Winter and Spring |
21 - The
Western Base - Blocked on the Shelf-Ice |
22 - The
Western base - Linking up with Kaiser Wilhelm II Land
| 23 - A
Second Winter |
24 - Nearing
the End |
25 - Life on Macquarie Island |
26 - A Land
of Storm and Mist |
27- Through
Another Year |
28 - The
Homeward Cruise
Appendices:
2 - Scientific Work
| 3 - An Historical
Summary | 4
- Glossary |
5 - Medical Reports |
6 - Finance
| 7 - Equipment
Summary (2 pages) of the
Australian Antarctic Expedition
| The
Men of the Expedition
CHAPTER X
THE PREPARATION
OF SLEDGING EQUIPMENT
The world of fashion insists on its minute vagaries
in dress not always with an eye to utility and an explorer in
the polar regions is a very fastidious person, expending a vast
amount of care on his attire, but with the sole idea of comfort,
warmth, and usefulness. The clothes he wears are many and often
cumbersome, but they have gradually been perfected to meet the
demands of the local weather conditions. After a sojourn in
the ice-lands, he returns to civilization with a new concept
of the value of dress. At last he can stand still without being
reminded that his feet are chilly; he experiences the peculiar
sensation of walking about in an airily light suit, in glove-tight
boots, without he]met or mitts. It gives him such a delicious
feeling of freedom that his energy is unbounded and life is
a very pleasant and easy thing. Then it is that he can turn
in retrospect to the time in exile, appreciate his altered circumstances
and recall the many ingenuities which were evolved to make him
master of his environment.
It is sufficient to say that
we found the proposition of clothing one of unusual interest.
Any one who was not a practised needleman and machinist was
handicapped for a time, until he fell into the ways of the through-and-through
and blanket-stitch, thimbles, shuttles, spools and many other
things he had once affected to despise as belonging to the sphere
of women's work. It was not long before he was an enthusiast
in many arts attaining to a stage of independence, in which
he patented new ideas and maintained them in hot opposition
to the whole community of the Hut. On some fundamental points
all were in agreement, and one of them was that Adelie Land
was the country par excellence for the wind-proof, drift-tight
burberry.
Outside all other garments the burberry gabardine
was worn. The material was light and loosely fitting, but in
wind and drift it had to be hermetically sealed, so to speak,
for the snow crept in wherever there was an aperture. The trousers
were of double thickness, as they were exposed to the greatest
wear. Attached by large buttons, toggles or lampwick braces,
they reached as high as the lower part of the chest. Below,
they had lamp-wick lashings which were securely bound round
the uppers of boots or finnesko. In walking, the trousers would
often work off the leather boots, especially if they were cut
to a tailor's length, and snow would
then pour up the
leg and down into the boots in a remarkably short time. To counteract
this, Ninnis initiated the very satisfactory plan of sewing
a short length of canvas on to the boots to increase the length
of the upper.
The burberry helmet and blouse were either
in one piece or separate. For use round the Hut, in thick drifts,
the combination of helmet and blouse was handy and time-saving.
For sledging, when low temperatures and strong winds might be
expected all the time, it met the conditions well; there being
no necessity to worry about keeping the neck drift-tight. Under
ordinary circumstances it was very convenient to have a blouse
and helmet detached, as one so often could wear the former with
a well-padded woollen helmet and be reduced only as a last resource
to wearing the burberry helmet.
The blouse was roomy,
giving great freedom of movement. Around the neck was a draw-string,
which bunched in the jacket tightly over the lower part of the
helmet. There was also a draw-string round the waist. It was
here that we had the greatest difficulty in making the garment
fit snow-tight. If simply tied, the blouse would soon slip up
from below, especially if one were working with pick and shovel,
carrying cases or blocks of ice. To obviate this, some of the
men sewed loops or tags of lamp-wick on to the sides of the
trousers, to connect with corresponding attachments on the blouse.
As an additional security, others wore an outside belt which
was, even if the blouse slipped up for some distance, a line
of defence against the drift-snow.
The burberry helmet
completely enclosed the head except for the face, which remained
uncovered at the bottom of a funnel stiffened by several rings
of copper-wire. Lampwick, the universal polar ``cord,''
was sewn in short strips in front of the ears and tied at the
back of the head, firmly securing the helmet. Since the voyage
of the `Discovery' (1901-1904) lamp-wick had been used widely
in sledging on account of its width, softness, comparative warmth
and because of the fact that ordinary cord is not so easy to
manipulate in cold weather. Large buttons of leather or bone
were not nearly so popular as small, smooth lengths of stick
engaging cross-wise with loops of cord--known as toggles, which
became quite a mania with some members of the Expedition. Whetter,
for instance, was known as the ``Toggle King,'' because
of the multitude of these stick-and-cord appendages which hung
from every part of his clothing.
Under the burberrys
thick, but light, suits of Jaeger fleece were worn. They combined
trousers and a sleeveless coat, over which a woollen jersey
was worn. In calm weather these with underclothing were all-sufficient,
but in the average fifty-mile wind at any temperature in the
neighbourhood of zero Fahrenheit, they felt distinctly porous.
In less windy weather the luxury of discarding burberrys,
either partly or wholly, was an indulgence which gave great
satisfaction.
Finnesko were the favourite foot-gear--soft
and commodious reindeer-skin fur boots. Once these were stuffed
with Lapp saennegras or manilla fibre, and the feet covered
with several pairs of socks, cold could be despised unless one
were stationary for some time or the socks or padding became
damp. Even though the padding were wet, violent exercise kept
the temperature ``balance'' in the warm direction, especially
if one were also under the stimulus of a recent hot meal.
Of course, on smooth ice or polished snow in even moderate
winds it was useless to try and keep one's feet in finnesko,
although practice gave great agility in calmer weather. As already
indicated, spiked crampons on approved models, tested on the
glacier-slopes in a hurricane wind, were almost always worn
encasing the finnesko. With so many coverings the feet often
became uncomfortably hot, and for odd jobs about the Hut and
not far abroad spiked leather boots gave most satisfaction.
There were various coverings for the hands: felt mitts,
mittens, instrument-gloves and wolfskin mitts.
The first
were used in conjunction with fingerless mittens. The wear and
tear on these was greater than on any other item of clothing.
It was a common sight to see them ragged, canvas-covered, patched,
repatched and again repatched, to be at last reluctantly thrown
away. There were two compartments in a single glove, one for
the thumb and the other for the fingers. It is much easier to
keep the fingers warm when in contact with one another than
by having them in separate stalls.
Instrument-gloves
of wool were used for delicate manipulations, as a partial protection,
since they reduced the stinging chill of cold metal at low temperatures.
Wolfskin mitts are unexcelled for use in cold windy weather.
Their shaggy external hair entangles the drift-snow, which thaws,
soaks the skin and refreezes until the mitt is stiff as buckram.
This is their main disadvantage. These mitts or rather gauntlets
were made longer in the arms than usual so as to overlap the
burberry sleeves and keep the wrists warm.
Lambskin mitts
with the wool facing inwards were very useful and wore well
for occupations like hauling on ropes and lifting cases.
Like every other movable thing, mitts had to be made fast
to prevent them blowing away. So they were slung round the neck
by a yoke of lamp-wick. The mittened hand could then be removed
with the assurance that the outer mitt would not be far away
when it was wanted, no matter how hard the wind blew.
There has been much discussion as to the relative merits
of fur and woollen clothing. After all the question has resolved
itself into one of personal predilection. It has been claimed
that furs are warmer and lighter. The warmth follows from the
wind-proof quality of the hide which, unfortunately, also tends
to retain moist exhalations from the body. In Adelie Land, the
only furs we used were finnesko, wolfskin mitts and sleeping-bags
of reindeer skins.
As in every part of the equipment,
modifications had to be made in the circular Willesden-drill
tents. To facilitate their erection in the perpetual winds they
were sewn permanently on to the five bamboo poles, instead of
being thrown over the latter previously set in position. Thus
the tents opened like large conical umbrellas. A rawhide loop
was fixed to the middle one of the three windward legs and,
when raising a tent during a high wind, it was the usual thing
for a man to be inside gripping the loop to pin down the windward
legs and at the same time, kicking out the two leeward legs.
On hard surfaces, holes were dug to receive the ends of the
poles; at other times they were pressed home into the snow by
the man inside the
tent.
When pitched, the tent was
held down by blocks of snow or ice, helped by spare food-bags,
which were all piled round on a broad flounce. Ventilators,
originally supplied with the tents, had to be dispensed with
on account of the incessant drift. The door of the tent was
an oval funnel of burberry material just large enough to admit
a man and secured by a draw-string.
Strips of calico
and webbing were sewn over the insides of the light tents to
strengthen them for sledging in the summer. For heavy weather
we also had japara sail-cloth tents with Willesden canvas flounces.
These gave one a feeling of greater security and were much more
wind-proof, but unfortunately twice as heavy as the first-mentioned.
A floor-cloth of light Willesden canvas covered the surface
of snow or ice in the interior of the tent; performing when
sledging the alternative office of a sail.
In order to
cut snow, neve or ice to pile on the flounce, a pick and spade
had to be included in the sledging equip meet. As a rule, a
strong, pointed shovel weighing about six pounds answers very
well; but in Adelie Land, the surface was so often wind-swept
ice, polished porcelain-snow, or hard neve that a pick was necessary
to make any impression upon it. It was found that a four-pound
spade, carefully handled, and a four-pound miner's pick
provided against all emergencies.
Our sledges were similar
to those of other British Antarctic expeditions; of eleven-
and twelve-foot lengths. The best were Norwegian, made of ash
and hickory. Others built in Sydney, of Australian woods, were
admirably suited for special work. Those made of mountain-ash
had the advantage of being extremely light, but the runners
wore out quickly on ice and hard neve. Sledges of powellized
spotted gum were very strong and stood plenty of rough usage,
but were heavier than those procured in Norway. A decking of
bamboo slats secured by copper-wire to the crossbars was usually
employed.
A light bamboo mast and spar were fitted to
each sledge. Immediately in front of the mast came the ``cooker-box,''
containing in respective compartments the primus and a bottle
of spirit for lighting it, as well as spare prickers, openers
and fillers for the kerosene tins, repair outfits and other
odd articles. The cooker-boxes were of Venesta board, with hinged
lids secured by chocks and overlapped by japara cloth to exclude
as much drift-snow as possible. An instrument-box was secured
to the sledge near the rear and just forward of a
Venesta
or aluminium tray on which the kerosene contained in one-gallon
tins was carried. In several cases the tray was widened to receive
as well a case containing a dip-circle. Rearmost of all was
a wooden crosspiece to which the shaft of the sledge-meter was
attached through a universal joint. On the middle section of
the sledge between the cooker-box and instrument-box, sleeping-bags,
food-bags, clothes-bags, tent, alpine rope, theodolite legs,
and other articles, were arranged, packed and immovably stiffened
by buckled straps passing from side to side.
Sledging
harness for both men and dogs was constructed of canvas. In
the former case, a wide belt of triple thickness encircled the
body at the hips, sewn to braces of narrower strips passing
over the shoulders, while hauling-rope was attached to the belt
behind. The strength of the whole depended on the care bestowed
in sewing the parts together, and, since his life might depend
upon it, no one made anything else but a thorough job of his
harness.
Ninnis and Mertz ran a tailoring business for
the dogs, who were brought one by one into the outer Hut to
be measured for harness. After many lengths had been cut with
scissors the canvas bands were put through and sewn together
on the large sewing-machine and then each dog was fitted and
the final alterations were made. The huskies looked quite smart
in their ``suits,''
Upon the primus heater, alone,
did we rely for cooking the meals on sledging journeys. First
used for purposes of sledging by Dr. Nansen in his journey across
Greenland, the primus is only economically managed after some
practice. To light a primus in a draughty tent at a low temperature
calls for some forbearance before one is a thorough master of
the art. A sledging cook will often make a disagreeable faux
pas by extinguishing the primus in the preparation of hoosh.
This is most readily done by lowering too quickly the outside
cover over the rest of the cooker. Fumes of vaporizing kerosene
soon fill the tent and when matches are found, the cooker pulled
to pieces, the primus relighted and the choking vapours have
cleared, one is apt to think that all is well. The hoosh is
quite as successful as usual, but the cocoa, made from water
in the annulus, has a tincture of kerosene which cannot be concealed.
In the ``Nansen Cooker,'' which we used, a maximum
result is secured from the heat of the primus. The hot gases
from the combustion of the kerosene, before they escape into
the outside air, have to circulate along a tortuous path, passing
from the hot interior to the colder exterior compartments, losing
heat all the time. Thus a hot hoosh is preparing in the central
vessel side by side with the melting of snow for cocoa or tea
in the annulus. By the combination of ``Nansen Cooker''
and primus stove one gallon of kerosene oil properly husbanded
is made to last for twelve days in the preparation of the ordinary
ration for three men.
Section through a Nansen Sledging Cooker
mounted on the primus
The subject of food is one which requires peculiar
consideration and study. It is assumed that a polar expedition
must carry all its food-stuffs in that variety and quantity
which may approximately satisfy normal demands. Fortunately,
the advance of science has been such that necessaries like vegetables,
fruit, meats and milk are now preserved so that the chances
of bacterial contamination are reduced to a minimum. A cold
climate is an additional security towards the same end.
Speaking generally, while living for months in an Antarctic
hut, it is a splendid thing to have more than the mere necessaries
of life. Since one is cut off from the ordinary amenities of
social existence, it is particularly necessary that equipment
and food should be of the very best; in some measure to replace
a lack which sooner or later makes itself keenly felt. Explorers,
after all, are only mortal.
Luxuries, then, are good
in moderation, and mainly for their psychological effect. After
a spell of routine, a celebration is the natural sequel, and
if there are delicacies which in civilization are more palatable
than usual, why not take them to where they will receive a still
fuller and heartier appreciation? There is a corresponding rise
in the ``tide of life'' and the ennui of the same task,
in the same place, in the same wind, is not so noticeable. So
we did not forget our asparagus and jugged hare.
In the
matter of sledging foods, one comes down to a solid basis of
dietetics. But even dietetics as a science has to stand aside
when actual experience speaks. Dietetics deals with proteins,
carbohydrates, fats, and calories: all terms which need definition
and comprehension before the value of a sledging ration can
be fundamentally understood. When the subject was first introduced
into table conversation at the Hut, it was regarded somewhat
suspiciously as ``shop.'' But it gradually won interest
simply because it was of such vital concern.
In sledging
there is undoubtedly a critical allowance which will yield the
best results. Circumstances alter cases, and the correct ration
under one set of conditions cannot be expected to coincide with
that in another situation. Thus, the journey may be conducted
under conditions of great cold or of comparative warmth, by
man-hauling or auxiliary power, at sea-level or on an altitude,
through regions where there is a reasonable hope of securing
additions of meat by the way, or across barren tracts devoid
of game. In each instance particular demands must be supplied.
In selecting the articles of diet, idiosyncrasies of individuals
should be consulted in reason, and under no consideration should
anything be taken which bears the slightest stigma of contamination.
It remains, then, to discriminate those foods which contribute
the greatest amount of nutriment for a given weight, and which,
inter se, preserve a proper dietetic balance. Variety is very
desirable, provided that there is no important sacrifice in
nutrient value. The proof of a wisely selected ration is to
find at the end of a long sledge journey that the sole craving
is for an increase in the ration. Of course, such would be the
ideal result of a perfect ration, which does not exist.
Considering that an ordinary individual in civilization
may only satisfy the choice demands of his appetite by selecting
from the multifarious bill of fare of a modern restaurant, it
will be evident that the same person, though already on the
restricted diet of an explorer, cannot be suddenly subjected
to a sledging ration for any considerable period without a certain
exercise of discipline.
For example, the Eastern Coastal
Party, sledging at fairly high temperatures over the sea-ice,
noted that the full ration of hoosh produced at times a mild
indigestion, they drank much liquid to satisfy an intense thirst
and on returning to the Hut found their appetites inclined to
tinned fruit and penguins' eggs. Bickerton's and Bage's
parties, though working at a much higher altitude, had a similar
experience. The former, for instance, could not at first drink
the whole allowance of thick, rich cocoa without a slight nausea.
The latter saved rations during the first two weeks of their
journey, and only when they rose to greater heights and were
in fine condition did they appreciate the ration to the full.
Again, even when one becomes used to the ration, the sensation
of full satisfaction does not last for more than an hour. The
imagination reaches forward to the next meal, perhaps partly
on account of the fact that marching is often monotonous and
the scenery uninspiring. Still, even after a good evening hoosh,
the subconscious self may assert itself in food-dreams. The
reaction from even a short sledging trip, where food has been
plentiful, is to eat a good deal, astonishing in amount to those
who for the time being have lived at the Hut.
It may
appear that a serious case is being made against the polar sledging
ration. On the whole, it was found to be excellent and the best
that experience had been able to devise. Entering the polar
zones, one must not be over-fastidious, but take it as a matter
of course that there will be self-denial and deprivation of
small luxuries.
The energy exerted by man, and the requirements
of tissue-building are derived from the organic compounds known
as proteins,** fats and carbohydrates, though in a slight degree
from other substances, most important of which are minute quantities
of mineral matter.
A calorie as used in dietetics is
the amount of heat required to raise the temperature of one
kilogramme of water at 0 degrees C. to 1 degree C. The heat-value
of food-stuffs, stated in calories, can be quickly reckoned
when chemical analyses stating their protein, fat and carbohydrate
contents are available. It has been ascertained that one gramme
of protein or carbohydrate yields 4.1 calories, whilst the same
amount of fat produces 9.3 calories. Thus the value of fat-containing
foods in a sledging ration is at once apparent.
** The
proteins are complex nitrogenous compounds which are preeminent
in fulfilling the two functions of a food: to form tissue and
to produce work and heat. As examples may be quoted, myosin
the chief protein of ordinary meat or muscle, ovalbumin one
of the proteins of egg-white, casein belonging to milk and cheese,
and gluten a protein-mixture in flour.
Fats are organic
non-nitrogenous substances obtained from both animal and vegetable
sources, e.g. butter and olive oil.
The carbohydrates
are compounds of carbon with hydrogen and oxygen in a certain
proportion, e.g. cane-sugar and starch.
Mineral matters
are inorganic, being chlorides, carbonates or phosphates of
calcium, sodium and potassium.
Theoretically, any of the three classes of foods
mentioned might be thought to supply adequate energy, if taken
in sufficient amount. Practically, however, protein and carbohydrate
are essential, and it is better to have a mixture of all three.
So, in concentrating foods for sledging, the largest possible
proportion of fat, compatible with other considerations,
is included.
Ordinarily, a normal man consumes some four
or five pounds weight of solid food per diem, of which 50 per
cent., it is rather surprising to learn, is water. When sledging,
one has the satisfaction of knowing that all but the smallest
quantity of the food dragged is solid nutriment. The water is
added when the meals are cooked. It is just in this artificial
addition that the sledging ration is not perfect, though as
a synthesis it satisfies the demands of dietetics. Food containing
water, as cooked meat oozing with its own gravy is a more palatable
thing than dried meat-powder to which boiling water has been
added. In the same way, a dry, hard biscuit plus liquid is a
different thing from a spongy loaf of yeast bread with its high
percentage of water. One must reckon with the psychic factor
in eating. When sledging, one does not look for food well served
as long as the food is hot, nourishing and filling. So the usage
of weeks and a wolfish appetite make hoosh a most delicious
preparation; but when the days of an enforced ration are over,
the desire for appetizing well-served food reasserts itself.
The body refuses to be treated merely as an engine.
The
daily polar sledging ration for one man has been concentrated
to a figure just above two pounds in weight, For instance, in
recent Antarctic expeditions, Scott, in 1903, used 34.7 ozs.,
Shackleton in 1908 used 34.82 ozs. and our own amounted to 34.25
ozs. Exclusive of tea, pepper and salt, Shackleton's ration
and that adopted by Wild at the Western Base and ourselves in
Adelie Land were identical--34 ozs. Reverting to earlier explorers,
for the sake of comparisons, McClintock in 1850 brought his
minimum down to 42 ozs., Nares in 1875 to 40 ozs., Greely in
1882 to 41.75 ozs., and Abruzzi in 1900 to 43.5 ozs.
Our allowance was made up as follows, the relative amounts in
the daily sledging ration for one man being stated: plasmon
biscuit, 12 ozs.; pemmican, 8 ozs.; butter, 2 ozs.; plasmon
chocolate, 2 ozs.; glaxo (dried milk), 5 ozs.; sugar, 4 ozs.;
cocoa, 1 oz.; tea, .25 oz. It will be instructive to make a
short note on each item.
Plasmon biscuit was made of
the best flour mixed with 30 per cent. of plasmon powder. Each
biscuit weighed 2.25 ozs., and was made specially thick and
hard to resist shaking and bumping in transit as well as the
rough usage of a sledging journey. The effect of the high percentage
of plasmon, apart from its nutritive value, was to impart additional
toughness to the biscuit, which tested our teeth so severely
that we should have preferred something less like a geological
specimen and more like ordinary ``hard tack,'' The favourite
method of dealing with these biscuits was to smash them with
an ice-axe or nibble them into small pieces and treat the fragments
for a while to the solvent action of hot cocoa. Two important
proteins were present in this food: plasmon, a trade-name for
casein, the chief protein of milk, and gluten, a mixture of
proteins in flour.
The pemmican we used consisted of
powdered dried beef (containing the important protein, myosin)
and 50 per cent. of pure fat in the form of lard. The large
content of fat contributes to its high caloric value, so that
it is regularly included in sledging diets. Hoosh is a stodgy,
porridge-like mixture of pemmican, dried biscuit and water,
brought to the boil and served hot. Some men prefer it cooler
and more dilute, and to this end dig up snow from the floor
of the tent with their spoons, and mix it in until the hoosh
is ``to taste,'' Eating hoosh is a heightened form of
bliss which no sledger can ever forget.
Glaxo is a proprietary
food preparation of dried milk, manufactured in New Zealand.
It is without doubt an ideal food for any climate where concentration
is desirable and asepsis cannot be neglected. The value of milk
as an all-round food is well known. It contains protein as casein,
fat as cream and in fine globules, carbohydrate as lactose (milk
sugar) and mineral substances whose importance is becoming more
recognized. At the Western Base, Wild's party invented glaxo
biscuits; an unbaked mixture of flour and dried milk, which
were in themselves a big inducement to go sledging. At the Hut,
making milk from the dried powder required some little experience.
Cold water was added to the dried powder, a paste was made and
warm or hot water poured in until the milk was at the required
strength. One of the professional ``touches''
was to aerate the milk, after mixing, by pouring it from jug
to jug.
Butter, although it contains nearly 20 per cent.
of water is a food of high heat-value and is certainly more
easily digested than fat, such as dripping, with a higher melting-point.
Ours was fresh Victorian butter, packed in the ordinary export
boxes, and carried to the Antarctic on the open bridge of the
Aurora. With a sheath-knife, the sledging cook cut off three
small chunks of two ounces each from the frozen butter
every day at lunch. To show how the appetite is affected by
extreme cold, one feels that butter is a wholesome thing just
in itself, being more inclined to eat a pound than two ounces.
Sugar--the carbohydrate, sucrose--has special qualities
as a food since it is quickly assimilated, imparting within
a few minutes fresh energy for muscular exertion. Athletes will
support this; in fact, a strong solution of sugar in water is
used as a stimulant in long-distance running and other feats
of endurance. Wild, for instance, found as a matter of experience
that chocolate was preferable to cheese as a sledging food,
even though similar weights had approximately the same food-value.
Cocoa and tea were the two sledging beverages. The cocoa
was used for two meals, the first and the last in the
day, and the tea for lunch. Both contain stimulating alkaloids,
theobromine and caffeine, and fat is a notable constituent of
cocoa. Of course, their chief nourishing value, as far as we
were concerned, lay in the glaxo and sugar added.
Lastly,
plasmon chocolate is a preparation of pure chocolate (a mixture
of ground cocoa, white sugar and starch) with the addition of
10 per cent. of plasmon.
As food for the dogs, there
was nothing better than dried seal-steaks with the addition
of a little blubber. Ordinary pemmican is readily eaten, but
not appreciated by the dogs in the same way as seal meat. To
save weight, the meat was dried over the stove without heating
it sufficiently to cook it. By this measure, almost 50 per cent.
in weight was saved.
The Hut was all agog with movement
and bustle on the days when rations were being made up and packed.
Starting from the earliest stage in the process, there would
be two men in the outer Hut grinding plasmon biscuit into powder.
One would turn away for dear life and the other smash the biscuit
with a hammer on a metal slab and feed continuously into the
grinder. The atmosphere would be full of the nauseous vapours
of blubber arising from dishes on the stove where seal meat
was drying for the dogs. Ninnis and Mertz superintended in this
department, in careless moments allowing the blubber to frizzle
and diffuse its aroma through the Hut.
Inside, spread
along the eighteen-foot table would be the weighers, the bag-makers
or machinists, and the packers. The first made up a compound
of cocoa, glaxo and sugar--cocoa compound; mixed glaxo and
sugar and stirred together, pemmican and biscuit--pemmican compound.
These were weighed and run into calico bags, rapidly supplied
by several machinists farther along the table. In spare moments
the weighers stowed chocolate, whole biscuits, butter and tea
into 190 sacks of various sizes. Lastly, the packers had strong
canvas tanks, as they were called, designed to hold food for
a week and a fortnight respectively. Into these the rations
were carefully distributed, butter in the centre, whole biscuits
near the top. Then the tanks were tightly closed, and one man
operated with palm and sail-needle, sewing them up with twine.
At the same time, a side-line was run in pemmican which was
removed semi-frozen from the air-tight tins, and shaved into
small pieces with a strong sheath-knife. Butter, too, arrived
from the refrigerator-store and was subdivided into two-ounce
or pound lumps.
Meanwhile, other occupations were in
full swing. An amateur cobbler, his crampon on a last, studded
its spiked surface with clouts, hammering away in complete disregard
of the night-watchman's uneasy slumbers. The big sewing-machine
raced at top-speed round the flounce of a tent, and in odd corners
among the bunks were groups mending mitts, strengthening sleeping-bags
and patching burberrys. The cartographer at his table beneath
a shaded acetylene light drew maps and sketched, the magnetician
was busy on calculations close by. The cook and messman often
made their presence felt and heard. In the outer Hut, the lathe
spun round, its whirr and click drowned in the noisy rasp of
the grinder and the blast of the big blow-lamp. The last-named,
Bickerton, ``bus-driver'' and air-tractor expert, had
converted, with the aid of a few pieces of covering tin, into
a forge. A piece of red-hot metal was lifted out and thrust
into the vice; Hannam was striker and Bickerton holder. General
conversation was conducted in shouts, Hannam's being easily
predominant.
The sum total of sounds was sufficient for
a while to make every one
oblivious to the clamour of the
restless wind.
CHAPTER XI - SPRING
EXPLOITS