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