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THE VOYAGES OF CAPTAIN SCOTT
BY CHARLES TURLEY
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
THE VOYAGE OF THE 'DISCOVERY'
Chapter
I. The 'Discovery'.
II. Southward Ho!
III. In Search of Winter Quarters.
IV. The Polar Winter.
V. The Start of the Southern Journey.
VI. The Return.
VII. A Second Winter.
VIII. The Western Journey.
IX. The Return from the West.
X. Release.
THE LAST EXPEDITION
Chapter
Preface to 'Scott's Last Expedition'.
Biographical Note.
British Antarctic Expedition, 1910.
I. Through Stormy Seas.
II. Depôt Laying to One Ton Camp.
III. Perils.
IV. A Happy Family.
V. Winter.
VI. Good-bye to Cape Evans.
VII. The Southern Journey Begins.
VIII. On the Beardmore Glacier.
IX. The South Pole.
X. On the Homeward Journey.
XI. The Last March.
Search Party Discovers the Tent.
In Memoriam.
Farewell Letters.
Message to the Public.
Index.
ILLUSTRATIONS
PHOTOGRAVURE PLATE
Portrait of Captain Robert F. Scott
From a photograph by J. Russell & Son, Southsea.
COLORED PLATES
From Water-Color Drawings by Dr. Edward A. Wilson.
Sledding.
Mount Erebus.
Lunar Corona.
'Birdie' Bowers reading the thermometer on the ramp.
DOUBLE PAGE PLATE
Panorama at Cape Evans.
Berg in South Bay.
FULL PAGE PLATES
Robert F. Scott at the age of thirteen as a naval cadet.
The 'Discovery'.
Looking up the gateway from Pony Depôt.
Pinnacled ice at mouth of Ferrar Glacier.
Pressure ridges north side of Discovery Bluff.
The 'Terra Nova' leaving the Antarctic.
Pony Camp on the barrier.
Snowed-up tent after three days' blizzard.
Pitching the double tent on the summit.
Adélie Penguin on nest.
Emperor Penguins on sea-ice.
Dog party starting from Hut Point.
Dog lines.
Looking up the gateway from Pony Depôt.
Looking south from Lower Glacier Depôt,
Man hauling camp, 87th parallel.
The party at the South Pole.
'The Last Rest'.
Facsimile of the last words of Captain Scott's Journal.
Track chart of main southern journey.
INTRODUCTION
BY SIR J. M. BARRIE, BART.
On the night of my original meeting with Scott he was but lately
home from his first adventure into the Antarctic and my chief
recollection of the occasion is that having found the entrancing
man I was unable to leave him. In vain he escorted me through the
streets of London to my home, for when he had said good-night I
then escorted him to his, and so it went on I know not for how long
through the small hours. Our talk was largely a comparison of the
life of action (which he pooh-poohed) with the loathsome life of those
who sit at home (which I scorned); but I also remember that he
assured me he was of Scots extraction. As the subject never seems
to have been resumed between us, I afterwards wondered whether I
had drawn this from him with a promise that, if his reply was
satisfactory, I would let him go to bed. However, the family
traditions (they are nothing more) do bring him from across the
border. According to them his great-great-grandfather was the Scott
of Brownhead whose estates were sequestered after the '45. His
dwelling was razed to the ground and he fled with his wife, to
whom after some grim privations a son was born in a fisherman's
hut on September 14, 1745. This son eventually settled in Devon,
where he prospered, for it was in the beautiful house of Oatlands
that he died. He had four sons, all in the Royal Navy, of whom the
eldest had as youngest child John Edward Scott, father of the
Captain Scott who was born at Oatlands on June 6, 1868. About the
same date, or perhaps a little earlier, it was decided that the
boy should go into the Navy like so many of his for-bears.
I have been asked to write a few pages about those early days
of Scott at Oatlands, so that the boys who read this book may
have some slight acquaintance with the boy who became Captain
Scott; and they may be relieved to learn (as it holds out some
chance for themselves) that the man who did so many heroic things
does not make his first appearance as a hero. He enters history
aged six, blue-eyed, long-haired, inexpressibly slight and in
velveteen, being held out at arm's length by a servant and dripping
horribly, like a half-drowned kitten. This is the earliest
recollection of him of a sister, who was too young to join in
a children's party on that fatal day. But Con, as he was always
called, had intimated to her that from a window she would be
able to see him taking a noble lead in the festivities in the
garden, and she looked; and that is what she saw. He had been
showing his guests how superbly he could jump the leat, and had
fallen into it.
Leat is a Devonshire term for a running stream, and a branch
of the leat ran through the Oatlands garden while there was another
branch, more venturesome, at the bottom of the fields. These
were the waters first ploughed by Scott, and he invented many
ways of being in them accidentally, it being forbidden to enter
them of intent. Thus he taught his sisters and brother a new
version of the oldest probably of all pastimes, the game of 'Touch.'
You had to touch 'across the leat,' and, with a little good fortune,
one of you went in. Once you were wet, it did not so much matter
though you got wetter.
An easy way of getting to the leat at the foot of the fields
was to walk there, but by the time he was eight Scott scorned
the easy ways. He invented parents who sternly forbade all approach
to this dangerous waterway; he turned them into enemies of his
country and of himself (he was now an admiral), and led parties
of gallant tars to the stream by ways hitherto unthought of. At
foot of the avenue was an oak tree which hung over the road, and
thus by dropping from this tree you got into open country. The
tree was (at this time) of an enormous size, with sufficient room
to conceal a navy, and the navy consisted mainly of the sisters
and the young brother. All had to be ready at any moment to leap
from the tree and join issue with the enemy on the leat. In the
fields there was also a mighty ocean, called by dull grown-ups
'the pond,' and here Scott's battleship lay moored. It seems for
some time to have been an English vessel, but by and by he was
impelled, as all boys are, to blow something up, and he could
think of nothing more splendid for his purpose than the battleship.
Thus did it become promptly a ship of the enemy doing serious
damage to the trade of those parts, and the valiant Con took to
walking about with lips pursed, brows frowning as he cogitated
how to remove the Terror of Devon. You may picture the sisters
and brother trotting by his side and looking anxiously, into
his set face. At last he decided to blow the accursed thing up
with gunpowder. His crew cheered, and then waited to be sent to
the local shop for a pennyworth of gunpowder. But Con made his
own gunpowder, none of the faithful were ever told how, and on
a great day the train was laid. Con applied the match and ordered
all to stand back. A deafening explosion was expected, but a mere
puff of flame was all that came; the Terror of Devon, which to
the unimaginative was only a painted plank, still rode the waters.
With many boys this would be the end of the story, but not with
Con. He again retired to the making of gunpowder, and did not
desist from his endeavors until he had blown that plank sky-high.
His first knife is a great event in the life of a boy: it is
probably the first memory of many of them, and they are nearly
always given it on condition that they keep it shut. So it was
with Con, and a few minutes after he had sworn that he would
not open it he was begging for permission to use it on a tempting
sapling. 'Very well,' his father said grimly, 'but remember, if
you hurt yourself, don't expect any sympathy from me.' The knife
was opened, and to cut himself rather badly proved as easy as
falling into the leat. The father, however, had not noticed, and
the boy put his bleeding hand into his pocket and walked on
unconcernedly. He was really considerably damaged; and this is
a good story of a child of seven who all his life suffered extreme
nausea from the sight of blood; even in the Discovery days, to
get accustomed to 'seeing red,' he had to force himself to watch
Dr. Wilson skinning his specimens.
When he was about eight Con passed out of the hands of a governess,
and became a school-boy, first at a day school in Stoke Damerel
and later at Stubbington House, Fareham. He rode grandly between
Oatlands and Stoke Damerel on his pony, Beppo, which bucked in
vain when he was on it, but had an ingratiating way of depositing
other riders on the road. From what one knows of him later this
is a characteristic story. One day he dismounted to look over a
gate at a view which impressed him (not very boyish this), and
when he recovered from a brown study there was no Beppo to be
seen. He walked the seven miles home, but what was characteristic
was that he called at police-stations on the way to give practical
details of his loss and a description of the pony. Few children
would have thought of this, but Scott was naturally a strange
mixture of the dreamy and the practical, and never more practical
than immediately after he had been dreamy. He forgot place and
time altogether when thus abstracted. I remember the first time
he dined with me, when a number of well-known men had come to
meet him, he arrived some two hours late. He had dressed to come
out, then fallen into one of his reveries, forgotten all about
the engagement, dined by himself and gone early to bed. Just as
he was falling asleep he remembered where he should be, arose
hastily and joined us as speedily as possible. It was equally
characteristic of him to say of the other guests that it was
pleasant to a sailor to meet so many interesting people. When
I said that to them the sailor was by far the most interesting
person in the room he shouted with mirth. It always amused Scott
to find that anyone thought him a person of importance.
[Illustration: Robert F. Scott at the age of 13 as a naval cadet.]
I suppose everyone takes for granted that in his childhood, as
later when he made his great marches, Scott was muscular and strongly
built. This was so far from being the case that there were many
anxious consultations over him, and the local doctor said he could
not become a sailor as he could never hope to obtain the necessary
number of inches round the chest. He was delicate and inclined
to be pigeon-breasted. Judging from the portrait of him here
printed, in his first uniform as a naval cadet, all this had
gone by the time he was thirteen, but unfortunately there are no
letters of this period extant and thus little can be said of his
years on the Britannia where 'you never felt hot in your bunk
because you could always twist, and sleep with your feet out at
port hole.' He became a cadet captain, a post none can reach who
is not thought well of by the other boys as well as by their
instructors, but none of them foresaw that he was likely to become
anybody in particular. He was still 'Old Mooney,' as his father
had dubbed him, owing to his dreamy mind; it was an effort to him
to work hard, he cast a wistful eye on 'slackers,' he was not a
good loser, he was untidy to the point of slovenliness, and he
had a fierce temper. All this I think has been proved to me up to
the hilt, and as I am very sure that the boy of fifteen or so
cannot be very different from the man he grows into it leaves
me puzzled. The Scott I knew, or thought I knew, was physically
as hard as nails and flung himself into work or play with a
vehemence I cannot remember ever to have seen equaled. I have
fished with him, played cricket and football with him, and other
games, those of his own invention being of a particularly arduous
kind, for they always had a moment when the other players were
privileged to fling a hard ball at your undefended head. 'Slackness,'
was the last quality you would think of when you saw him bearing
down on you with that ball, and it was the last he asked of you
if you were bearing down on him. He was equally strenuous of
work; indeed I have no clearer recollection of him than his way
of running from play to work or work to play, so that there should
be the least possible time between. It is the 'time between'
that is the 'slacker's' kingdom, and Scott lived less in it than
anyone I can recall. Again, I found him the best of losers, with
a shout of delight for every good stroke by an opponent: what
is called an ideal sportsman. He was very neat and correct in
his dress, quite a model for the youth who come after him, but
that we take as a matter of course; it is 'good form' in the
Navy. His temper I should have said was bullet-proof. I have
never seen him begin to lose it for a second of time, and I have
seen him in circumstances where the loss of it would have been
excusable.
However, 'the boy makes the man,' and Scott was none of those
things I saw in him but something better. The faults of his youth
must have lived on in him as in all of us, but he got to know
they were there and he took an iron grip of them and never let
go his hold. It was this self-control more than anything else
that made the man of him of whom we have all become so proud.
I get many proofs of this in correspondence dealing with his
manhood days which are not strictly within the sphere of this
introductory note. The horror of slackness was turned into a
very passion for keeping himself 'fit.' Thus we find him at one
time taking charge of a dog, a 'Big Dane,' so that he could race
it all the way between work and home, a distance of three miles.
Even when he was getting the Discover ready and doing daily the
work of several men, he might have been seen running through
the streets of London from Savile Row or the Admiralty to his
home, not because there was no time for other method of progression,
but because he must be fit, fit, fit. No more 'Old Mooney' for
him; he kept an eye for ever on that gentleman, and became doggedly
the most practical of men. And practical in the cheeriest of
ways. In 1894 a disastrous change came over the fortunes of the
family, the father's money being lost and then Scott was practical
indeed. A letter he wrote I at this time to his mother, tenderly
taking everything and everybody on his shoulders, must be one
of the best letters ever written by a son, and I hope it may
be some day published. His mother was the great person of his
early life, more to him even than his brother or his father,
whom circumstances had deprived of the glory of following the
sailor's profession and whose ambitions were all bound up in
this son, determined that Con should do the big things he had
not done himself. For the rest of his life Con became the head
of the family, devoting his time and his means to them, not in
an it-must-be-done manner, but with joy and even gaiety. He never
seems to have shown a gayer front than when the troubles fell,
and at a farm to which they retired for a time he became famous
as a provider of concerts. Not only must there be no 'Old Mooney'
in him, but it must be driven out of everyone. His concerts,
in which he took a leading part, became celebrated in the district,
deputations called to beg for another, and once in these words,
'Wull 'ee gie we a concert over our way when the comic young
gentleman be here along?'
Some servants having had to go at this period, Scott conceived
the idea that he must even help domestically in the house, and
took his own bedroom under his charge with results that were
satisfactory to the casual eye, though not to the eyes of his
sisters. It was about this time that he slew the demon of untidiness
so far as his own dress was concerned and doggedly became a model
for still younger officers. Not that his dress was fine. While
there were others to help he would not spend his small means
on himself, and he would arrive home in frayed garments that
he had grown out of and in very tarnished lace. But neat as a
pin. In the days when he returned from his first voyage in the
Antarctic and all England was talking of him, one of his most
novel adventures was at last to go to a first-class tailor and
be provided with a first-class suit. He was as elated by the
possession of this as a child. When going about the country
lecturing in those days he traveled third class, though he was
sometimes met at the station by mayors and corporations and red
carpets.
The hot tempers of his youth must still have lain hidden, but
by now the control was complete. Even in the naval cadet days
of which unfortunately there is so little to tell, his old friends
who remember the tempers remember also the sunny smile that
dissipated them. When I knew him the sunny smile was there
frequently, and was indeed his greatest personal adornment, but
the tempers never reached the surface. He had become master of
his fate and captain of his soul.
In 1886 Scott became a middy on the Boadicea, and later on various
ships, one of them the Rover, of which Admiral Fisher was at
that time commander. The Admiral has a recollection of a little
black pig having been found under his bunk one night. He cannot
swear that Scott was the leading culprit, but Scott was certainly
one of several who had to finish the night on deck as a punishment.
In 1888 Scott passed, his examinations for sub-lieutenant, with
four first-class honors and one second, and so left his boyhood
behind. I cannot refrain however from adding as a conclusion
to these notes a letter from Sir Courtauld Thomson that gives
a very attractive glimpse of him in this same year:
'In the late winter a quarter of a century ago I had to find
my way from San Francisco to Alaska. The railway was snowed up
and the only transport available at the moment was an ill-found
tramp steamer. My fellow passengers were mostly Californians
hurrying off to a new mining camp and, with the crew, looked
a very unpleasant lot of ruffians. Three singularly unprepossessing
Frisco toughs joined me in my cabin, which was none too large
for a single person. I was then told that yet another had somehow
to be wedged in. While I was wondering if he could be a more
ill-favored or dirtier specimen of humanity than the others the
last comer suddenly appeared--the jolliest and breeziest English
naval Second Lieutenant. It was Con Scott. I had never seen him
before, but we at once became friends and remained so till the
end. He was going up to join his ship which, I think, was the
Amphion, at Esquimault, B. C.
'As soon as we got outside the Golden Gates we ran into a full
gale which lasted all the way to Victoria, B. C. The ship was
so overcrowded that a large number of women and children were
allowed to sleep on the floor of the only saloon there was on
condition that they got up early, so that the rest of the
passengers could come in for breakfast and the other meals.
'I need scarcely say that owing to the heavy weather hardly a
woman was able to get up, and the saloon was soon in an
indescribable condition. Practically no attempt was made to serve
meals and the few so-called stewards were themselves mostly out
of action from drink or sea-sickness.
'Nearly all the male passengers who were able to be about spent
their time drinking and quarrelling. The deck cargo and some
of our top hamper were washed away and the cabins got their share
of the waves that were washing the deck.
'Then it was I first knew that Con Scott was no ordinary human
being. Though at that time still only a boy he practically took
command of the passengers and was at once accepted by them as
their Boss during the rest of the trip. With a small body of
volunteers he led an attack on the saloon--dressed the mothers,
washed the children, fed the babies, swabbed down the floors
and nursed the sick, and performed every imaginable service for
all hands. On deck he settled the quarrels and established order
either by his personality, or, if necessary, by his fists.
Practically by day and night he worked for the common good, never
sparing himself, and with his infectious smile gradually made
us all feel the whole thing was jolly good fun.
'I daresay there are still some of the passengers like myself
who, after a quarter of a century, have imprinted on their minds
the vision of this fair-haired English sailor boy with the laughing
blue eyes who at that early age knew how to sacrifice himself
for the welfare and happiness of others.'
THE VOYAGE OF THE 'DISCOVERY'
[Illustration: The 'Discovery'. Reproduced from a drawing by
Dr. E. A. Wilson.]
CHAPTER I
THE DISCOVERY
Do ye, by star-eyed Science led, explore
Each lonely ocean, each untrodden shore.
In June, 1899, Robert Falcon Scott was spending his short leave
in London, and happened to meet Sir Clements Markham in the
Buckingham Palace Road. On that afternoon he heard for the first
time of a prospective Antarctic expedition, and on the following
day he called upon Sir Clements and volunteered to command it. Of
this eventful visit Sir Clements wrote: 'On June 5, 1899, there
was a remarkable coincidence. Scott was then torpedo lieutenant
of the Majestic. I was just sitting down to write to my old friend
Captain Egerton [Footnote: Now Admiral Sir George Egerton, K.C.B.]
about him, when he was announced. He came to volunteer to command
the expedition. I believed him to be the best man for so great
a trust, either in the navy or out of it. Captain Egerton's reply
and Scott's testimonials and certificates most fully confirmed
a foregone conclusion.'
The tale, however, of the friendship between Sir Clements and
Scott began in 1887, when the former was the guest of his cousin,
the Commodore of the Training Squadron, and made the acquaintance
of every midshipman in the four ships that comprised it. During
the years that followed, it is enough to say that Scott more
than justified the hopes of those who had marked him down as
a midshipman of exceptional promise. Through those years Sir
Clements had been both friendly and observant, until by a happy
stroke of fortune the time came when he was as anxious for this
Antarctic expedition to be led by Scott as Scott was to lead
it. So when, on June 30, 1900, Scott was promoted to the rank
of Commander, and shortly afterwards was free to undertake the
work that was waiting for him, one great anxiety was removed
from the shoulders of the man who had not only proposed the
expedition, but had also resolved that nothing should prevent
it from going.
Great difficulties and troubles had, however, to be encountered
before the Discovery could start upon her voyage. First and foremost
was the question of money, but owing to indefatigable efforts
the financial horizon grew clearer in the early months of 1899.
Later on in the same year Mr. Balfour expressed his sympathy with
the objects of the undertaking, and it was entirely due to him that
the Government eventually agreed to contribute £45,000, provided
that a similar sum could be raised by private subscriptions.
In March, 1900, the keel of the new vessel, that the special
Ship Committee had decided to build for the expedition, was laid
in the yard of the Dundee Shipbuilding Company. A definite beginning,
at any rate, had been made; but very soon after Scott had taken
up his duties he found that unless he could obtain some control
over the various committees and subcommittees of the expedition,
the only day to fix for the sailing of the ship was Doomsday.
A visit to Norway, where he received many practical suggestions
from Dr. Nansen, was followed by a journey to Berlin, and there
he discovered that the German expedition, which was to sail from
Europe at the same time as his own, was already in an advanced
state of preparation. Considerably alarmed, he hurried back to
England and found, as he had expected, that all the arrangements,
which were in full swing in Germany, were almost at a standstill
in England. The construction of the ship was the only work that
was progressing, and even in this there were many interruptions
from the want of some one to give immediate decisions on points
of detail.
A remedy for this state of chaos had to be discovered, and on
November 4, 1900, the Joint Committee of the Royal Society and
the Royal Geographical Society passed a resolution, which left
Scott practically with a free hand to push on the work in every
department, under a given estimate of expenditure in each. To
safeguard the interests of the two Societies the resolution provided
that this expenditure should be supervised by a Finance Committee,
and to this Committee unqualified gratitude was due. Difficulties
were still to crop up, and as there were many scientific interests
to be served, differences of opinion on points of detail naturally
arose, but as far as the Finance Committee was concerned, it
is mere justice to record that no sooner was it formed than its
members began to work ungrudgingly to promote the success of
the undertaking.
In the meantime Scott's first task was to collect, as far as
possible, the various members of the expedition. Before he had
left the Majestic he had written, 'I cannot gather what is the
intention as regards the crew; is it hoped to be able to embody
them from the R.N.? I sincerely trust so.' In fact he had set
his heart on obtaining a naval crew, partly because he thought
that their sense of discipline would be invaluable, but also
because he doubted his ability to deal with any other class of
men.
The Admiralty, however, was reluctant to grant a concession that
Scott considered so necessary, and this reluctance arose not
from any coldness towards the enterprise, but from questions
of principle and precedent. At first the Admiralty assistance
in this respect was limited to two officers, Scott himself and
Royds, then the limit was extended to include Skelton the engineer,
a carpenter and a boatswain, and thus at least a small naval
nucleus was obtained. But it was not until the spring of 1901
that the Admiralty, thanks to Sir Anthony Hoskins and Sir Archibald
Douglas, gave in altogether, and as the selection of the most
fitting volunteers had not yet been made, the chosen men did
not join until the expedition was almost on the point of sailing.
For many reasons Scott was obliged to make his own headquarters
in London, and the room that had been placed at his disposal
in Burlington House soon became a museum of curiosities. Sledges,
ski, fur clothing and boots were crowded into every corner, while
tables and shelves were littered with correspondence and samples
of tinned foods. And in the midst of this medley he worked steadily
on, sometimes elated by the hope that all was going well, sometimes
depressed by the thought that the expedition could not possibly
be ready to start at the required date.
During these busy months of preparation he had the satisfaction
of knowing that the first lieutenant, the chief engineer and
the carpenter were in Dundee, and able to look into the numerous
small difficulties that arose in connection with the building
of the ship. Other important posts in the expedition had also
been filled up, and expeditionary work was being carried on in
many places. Some men were working on their especial subjects
in the British Museum, others were preparing themselves at the
Physical Laboratory at Kew, and others, again, were traveling
in various directions both at home and abroad. Of all these affairs
the central office was obliged to take notice, and so for its
occupants idle moments were few and very far between. Nansen
said once that the hardest work of a Polar voyage came in its
preparation, and during the years 1900-1, Scott found ample cause
to agree with him. But in spite of conflicting interests, which
at times threatened to wreck the well-being of the expedition,
work, having been properly organized, went steadily forward;
until on March 21, 1901, the new vessel was launched at Dundee
and named the 'Discovery' by Lady Markham.
In the choice of a name it was generally agreed that the best
plan was to revive some time-honored title, and that few names
were more distinguished than 'Discovery.' She was the sixth of
that name, and inherited a long record of honorable and fortunate
service.
The Discovery had been nothing more than a skeleton when it was
decided that she should be loaded with her freight in London;
consequently, after she had undergone her trials, she was brought
round from Dundee, and on June 3, 1901, was berthed in the East
India Docks. There, during the following weeks, all the stores
were gathered together, and there the vessel, which was destined
to be the home of the expedition for more than three years, was
laden.
Speaking at the Geographical Congress at Berlin in 1899, Nansen
strongly recommended a vessel of the Fram type with fuller lines
for South Polar work, but the special Ship Committee, appointed
to consider the question of a vessel for this expedition, had
very sound reasons for not following his advice. Nansen's celebrated
Fram was built for the specific object of remaining safely in
the North Polar pack, in spite of the terrible pressures which
were to be expected in such a vast extent of ice. This object
was achieved in the simplest manner by inclining the sides of
the vessel until her shape resembled a saucer, and lateral pressure
merely tended to raise her above the surface. Simple as this
design was, it fulfilled so well the requirements of the situation
that its conception was without doubt a stroke of genius. What,
however, has been generally forgotten is that the safety of the
Fram was secured at the expense of her sea-worthiness and powers
of ice-penetration.
Since the Fram was built there have been two distinct types of
Polar vessels, the one founded on the idea of passive security
in the ice, the other the old English whaler type designed to
sail the high seas and push her way through the looser ice-packs.
And a brief consideration of southern conditions will show which
of these types is more serviceable for Antarctic exploration,
because it is obvious that the exploring ship must first of all
be prepared to navigate the most stormy seas in the world, and
then be ready to force her way through the ice-floes to the
mysteries beyond.
By the general consent of those who witnessed her performances,
the old Discovery (the fifth of her name) of 1875 was the best
ship that had ever been employed on Arctic service, and the Ship
Committee eventually decided that the new vessel should be built
on more or less the same lines. The new Discovery had the honor
to be the first vessel ever built for scientific exploration,
and the decision to adopt well-tried English lines for her was
more than justified by her excellent qualities.
The greatest strength lay in her bows, and when ice-floes had
to be rammed the knowledge that the keel at the fore-end of the
ship gradually grew thicker, until it rose in the enormous mass
of solid wood which constituted the stem, was most comforting.
No single tree could provide the wood for such a stem, but the
several trees used were cunningly scarfed to provide the equivalent
of a solid block. In further preparation for the battle with
ice-floes, the stem itself and the bow for three or four feet
on either side were protected with numerous steel plates, so
that when the ship returned to civilization not a scratch remained
to show the hard knocks received by the bow.
The shape of the stem was also a very important consideration.
In the outline drawing of the Discovery will be seen how largely
the stem overhangs, and this was carried to a greater extent than
in any former Polar vessel. The object with which this was fitted
was often fulfilled during the voyage. Many a time on charging
a large ice-floe the stem of the ship glided upwards until the
bows were raised two or three feet, then the weight of the ship
acting downwards would crack the floe beneath, the bow would
drop, and gradually the ship would forge ahead to tussle against
the next obstruction. Nothing but a wooden structure has the
elasticity and strength to thrust its way without injury through
the thick Polar ice.
In Dundee the building of the Discovery aroused the keenest
interest, and the peculiar shape of her overhanging stern, an
entirely new feature in this class of vessel, gave rise to the
strongest criticism. All sorts of misfortunes were predicted,
but events proved that this overhanging rounded form of stem
was infinitely superior for ice-work to the old form of stem,
because it gave better protection to the rudder, rudder post
and screw, and was more satisfactory in heavy seas.
Both in the building and in the subsequent work of the Discovery
the deck-house, marked on the drawing 'Magnetic Observatory,'
was an important place. For the best of reasons it was important
that the magnetic observations taken on the expedition should
be as accurate as possible, and it will be readily understood
that magnetic observations cannot be taken in a place closely
surrounded by iron. The ardor of the magnetic experts on the
Ship Committee had led them at first to ask that there should
be neither iron nor steel in the vessel, but after it had been
pointed out that this could scarcely be, a compromise was arrived
at and it was agreed that no magnetic materials should be employed
within thirty feet of the observatory. This decision caused immense
trouble and expense, but in the end it was justified, for the
magnetic observations taken on board throughout the voyage required
very little correction. And if the demands of the magnetic experts
were a little exacting, some amusement was also derived from
them. At one time those who lived within the circle were threatened
with the necessity of shaving with brass razors; and when the
ship was on her way home from New Zealand a parrot fell into
dire disgrace, not because it was too talkative, but because
it had been hanging on the mess-deck during a whole set of
observations, and the wires of its cage were made of iron.
[Illustration: Outline drawings of 'Discovery' and 'Fram'.]
The Discovery was, in Scott's opinion, the finest vessel ever
built for exploring purposes, and he was as enthusiastic about
his officers and men as he was about the ship herself.
The senior of the ten officers who messed with Scott in the small
wardroom of the Discovery was Lieutenant A. B. Armitage, R.N.R.
He brought with him not only an excellent practical seamanship
training in sailing ships, but also valuable Polar experience;
for the P. and O. Company, in which he held a position, had in
1894 granted him leave of absence to join the Jackson-Harmsworth
Expedition to Franz-Josef Land.
Reginald Koettlitz, the senior doctor, had also seen Arctic service
in the Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition. As his medical duties were
expected to be light, he combined them with those of official
botanist.
The task of Thomas V. Hodgson, biologist, was to collect by hook
or crook all the strange beasts that inhabit the Polar seas,
and no greater enthusiast for his work could have been chosen.
Charles W. R. Royds was the first lieutenant, and had all to do
with the work of the men and the internal economy of the ship in
the way that is customary with a first lieutenant of a man-of-war.
Throughout the voyage he acted as meteorologist, and in face
of great difficulties he secured the most valuable records.
Michael Barne, the second naval lieutenant, had served with Scott
in the Majestic. 'I had thought him,' Scott wrote after the
expedition had returned, 'as he proved to be, especially fitted
for a voyage where there were many elements of dangers and
difficulty.'
The original idea in appointing two doctors to the Discovery was
that one of them should be available for a detached landing-party.
This idea was practically abandoned, but the expedition had reason
to be thankful that it ever existed, for the second doctor appointed
was Edward A. Wilson. In view of the glorious friendship which
arose between them, and which in the end was destined to make
history, it is of inestimable value to be able to quote what is
believed to be Scott's first written opinion of Wilson. In a letter
headed 'At sea, Sept. 27,' he said: 'I now come to the man who
will do great things some day--Wilson. He has quite the keenest
intellect on board and a marvelous capacity for work. You know
his artistic talent, but would be surprised at the speed at which
he paints, and the indefatigable manner in which he is always
at it. He has fallen at once into ship-life, helps with any job
that may be in hand... in fact is an excellent fellow all round.
Wilson, in addition to his medical duties, was also vertebrate
zoologist and artist to the expedition. In the first capacity
he dealt scientifically with the birds and seals, and in the
second he produced a very large number of excellent pictures
and sketches of the wild scenes among which he was living.
One of Scott's earliest acts on behalf of the expedition was to
apply for the services of Reginald W. Skelton as chief engineer.
At the time Skelton was senior engineer of the Majestic, and
his appointment to the Discovery was most fortunate in every
way. From first to last there was no serious difficulty with
the machinery or with anything connected with it.
The geologist, Hartley T. Ferrar, only joined the expedition
a short time before the Discovery sailed, and the physicist,
Louis Bernacchi, did not join until the ship reached New Zealand.
In addition there were two officers who did not serve throughout
the whole term. Owing to ill-health Ernest H. Shackleton was
obliged to return from the Antarctic in 1903, and his place was
taken by George F. A. Mulock, who was a sub-lieutenant in the
Navy when he joined.
Apart from Koettlitz, who was forty, and Hodgson, who was
thirty-seven, the average age of the remaining members of the
wardroom mess was just over twenty-four years, and at that time
Scott had little doubt as to the value of youth for Polar service.
Very naturally, however, this opinion was less pronounced as
the years went by, and on August 6, 1911, he wrote during his
last expedition: 'We (Wilson and I) both conclude that it is
the younger people who have the worst time... Wilson (39) says
he never felt cold less than he does now; I suppose that between
30 and 40 is the best all-round age. Bower is a wonder of course.
He is 29. When past the forties it is encouraging to remember
that Peary was 52!'
The fact that these officers lived in complete harmony for three
years was proof enough that they were well and wisely chosen,
and Scott was equally happy in his selection of warrant officers,
petty officers and men, who brought with them the sense of naval
discipline that is very necessary for such conditions as exist
in Polar service. The Discovery, it must be remembered, was not
in Government employment, and so had no more stringent regulations
to enforce discipline than those contained in the Merchant Shipping
Act. But everyone on board lived exactly as though the ship was
under the Naval Discipline Act; and as the men must have known
that this state of affairs was a fiction, they deserved as much
credit as the officers, if not more, for continuing rigorously
to observe it.
Something remains to be said about the Discovery's prospective
course, and of the instructions given to Captain Scott.
For purposes of reference Sir Clements Markham had suggested
that the Antarctic area should be divided into four quadrants,
to be named respectively the Victoria, the Ross, the Weddell, and
the Enderby, and when he also proposed that the Ross quadrant
should be the one chosen for this expedition, his proposal was
received with such unanimous approval that long before the Discovery
was built her prospective course had been finally decided. In
fact every branch of science saw a greater chance of success in
the Ross quadrant than in any other region. Concerning instructions
on such a voyage as the Discovery's it may be thought that, when
once the direction is settled, the fewer there are the better.
Provided, however, that they leave the greatest possible freedom
to the commander, they may be very useful in giving him a general
view of the situation, and in stating the order in which the
various objects are held. If scientific interests clash, it is
clearly to the commander's advantage to know in what light these
interests are regarded by those responsible for the enterprise.
Of such a nature were the instructions Scott received before
sailing for the South.
During the time of preparation many busy men gave most valuable
assistance to the expedition; but even with all this kindly aid
it is doubtful if the Discovery would ever have started had it
not been that among these helpers was one who, from the first,
had given his whole and undivided attention to the work in hand.
After all is said and done Sir Clements Markham conceived the
idea of this Antarctic Expedition, and it was his masterful
personality which swept aside all obstacles and obstructions.
CHAPTER II
SOUTHWARD HO!
They saw the cables loosened, they saw the gangways cleared,
They heard the women weeping, they heard the men who cheered.
Far off-far off the tumult faded and died away.
And all alone the sea wind came singing up the Bay.
--NEWBOLT.
On July 31, 1901, the Discovery left the London Docks, and slowly
wended her way down the Thames; and at Cowes, on August 5, she
was honored by a visit from King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra.
This visit must be ever memorable for the interest their Majesties
showed in the minutest details of equipment; but at the same time
it was natural for the members of the expedition to be obsessed
by the fear that they might start with a flourish of trumpets
and return with failure. The grim possibilities of the voyage
were also not to be forgotten--a voyage to the Antarctic, the
very map of which had remained practically unaltered from 1843-93.
With no previous Polar experience to help him, Scott was following
on the track of great Polar explorers, notably of James Cook and
James Ross, of whom it has been well said that the one defined the
Antarctic region and the other discovered it. Can it be wondered
therefore that his great anxieties were to be off and doing, to
justify the existence of the expedition at the earliest possible
moment, and to obey the instructions which had been given him?
Before the Discovery had crossed the Bay of Biscay it was evident
that she did not possess a turn of speed under any conditions,
and that there must be none but absolutely necessary delays on
the voyage, if she was to arrive in the Antarctic in time to
take full advantage of the southern summer of 1901-2 for the
first exploration in the ice. This proved a serious drawback,
as it had been confidently expected that there would be ample
time to make trial of various devices for sounding and dredging
in the deep sea, while still in a temperate climate. The fact
that no trials could be made on the outward voyage was severely
felt when the Antarctic was reached.
On October 2 the Discovery arrived within 150 miles of the Cape,
and on the 5th was moored off the naval station at Simon's Bay.
The main object of staying at the Cape was to obtain comparisons
with the magnetic instruments, but Scott wrote: 'It is much to
be deplored that no permanent Magnetic Station now exists at
the Cape. The fact increased the number and difficulty of our
own observations, and it was quite impossible to spare the time
for such repetitions and verifications as, under the circumstances,
could alone have placed them beyond dispute.' Armitage and Barne,
however, worked like Trojans in taking observations, and received
so much valuable assistance 'that they were able to accomplish
a maximum amount of work in the limited time at their disposal.'
In every way, indeed, the kindliest sympathy was shown at the
Cape.
The magnetic work was completed on October 12, and two days later
the Discovery once more put out to sea; and as time went on those
on board became more and more satisfied with her seaworthy qualities.
Towards the end of October there was a succession of heavy following
gales, but she rose like a cork to the mountainous seas that
followed in her wake, and, considering her size, she was wonderfully
free of water on the upper deck. With a heavy following sea,
however, she was, owing to her buoyancy, extremely lively, and
rolls of more than 40º were often recorded. The peculiar shape
of the stern, to which reference has been made, was now well
tested. It gave additional buoyancy to the after-end, causing
the ship to rise more quickly to the seas, but the same lifting
effect was also directed to throwing the ship off her course,
and consequently she was difficult to steer. The helmsmen gradually
became more expert, but on one occasion when Scott and some other
officers were on the bridge the ship swerved round, and was
immediately swept by a monstrous sea which made a clean breach
over her. Instinctively those on the bridge clutched the rails,
and for several moments they were completely submerged while
the spray dashed as high as the upper topsails.
On November 12 the Discovery was in lat. 51 S., long. 131 E.,
and had arrived in such an extremely interesting magnetic area
that they steered to the south to explore it. This new course
took them far out of the track of ships and towards the regions
of ice, and they had scarcely arrived in those lonely waters
when Scott was aroused from sleep by a loud knocking and a voice
shouting, 'Ship's afire, sir.' Without waiting to give any details
of this alarming news the informant fled, and when Scott appeared
hastily on the scenes he found that the deck was very dark and
obstructed by numerous half-clad people, all of whom were as
ignorant as he was. Making his way forward he discovered that
the fire had been under the forecastle, and had been easily
extinguished when the hose was brought to bear on it. In these
days steel ships and electric light tend to lessen the fear of
fire, but in a wooden vessel the possible consequences are too
serious not to make the danger very real and alarming. Henceforth
the risk of fire was constantly in Scott's thoughts, but this
was the first and last occasion on which an alarm was raised
in the Discovery.
On November 15 the 60th parallel was passed, and during the
following morning small pieces of sea-ice, worn into fantastic
shape by the action of the waves, appeared and were greeted with
much excitement and enthusiasm. As the afternoon advanced signs
of a heavier pack were seen ahead, and soon the loose floes were
all about the ship, and she was pushing her way amongst them
and receiving her baptism of ice.
This was Scott's first experience of pack-ice, and he has recorded
how deeply he was impressed by the novelty of his surroundings.
'The wind had died away; what light remained was reflected in
a ghostly glimmer from the white surface of the pack; now and
again a white snow petrel flitted through the gloom, the grinding
of the floes against the ship's side was mingled with the more
subdued hush of their rise and fall on the long swell, and for
the first time we felt something of the solemnity of these great
Southern solitudes.'
The Discovery was now within 200 miles of Adélie Land, and with
steam could easily have pushed on towards it. But delays had
already been excessive, and they could not be added to if New
Zealand was to be reached betimes. Reluctantly the ship's head
was again turned towards the North, and soon passed into looser
ice.
One great feature of the tempestuous seas of these southern oceans
is the quantity and variety of their bird life. Not only are
these roaming, tireless birds to be seen in the distance, but
in the majority of cases they are attracted by a ship and for
hours gather close about her. The greater number are of the petrel
tribe, and vary in size from the greater albatrosses, with their
huge spread of wing and unwavering flight, to the small Wilson
stormy petrel, which flits under the foaming crests of the waves.
For centuries these birds have been the friends of sailors, and
as Wilson was able to distinguish and name the various visitors
to the Discovery, the interest of the voyage was very greatly
increased.
'At 11 A.M. on the 22nd,' Scott wrote in his official report
of the Proceedings of the expedition, 'we sighted Macquarie Island,
exactly at the time and in the direction expected, a satisfactory
fact after so long an absence from land. As the island promised
so much of interest to our naturalists I thought a delay of the
few hours necessary for landing would be amply justified....
A landing was effected without much difficulty, and two penguin
rookeries which had been observed from the ship were explored
with much interest. One proved to be inhabited by the beautifully
marked King penguin, while the other contained a smaller
gold-crested broad-billed species.... At 8 P.M. the party returned
to the ship, and shortly after we weighed anchor and proceeded.
Including those collected in the ice, we had no fewer than 50
birds of various sorts to be skinned, and during the next few
days several officers and men were busily engaged in this work
under the superintendence of Dr. Wilson. The opportunity was
taken of serving out the flesh of the penguins for food. I had
anticipated considerable prejudice on the part of the men to
this form of diet which it will so often be essential to enforce,
and was agreeably surprised to find that they were by no means
averse to it. Many pronounced it excellent, and all seemed to
appreciate the necessity of cultivating a taste for it. I found
no prejudice more difficult to conquer than my own.'
Perhaps the most excited member of the party over this visit to
Macquarie Island was Scott's Aberdeen terrier 'Scamp,' who was
most comically divided between a desire to run away from the
penguins, and a feeling that in such strange company it behooved
him to be very courageous. This, however, was Scamp's first and
last experience of penguins, for it was felt that he would be
unable to live in the Antarctic, and so a comfortable home was
found for him in New Zealand.
Late on November 29 the Discovery arrived off Lyttelton Heads,
and on the following day she was berthed alongside a jetty in
the harbor. For both the private and the public kindness which
was shown to the expedition in New Zealand, no expressions of
gratitude can be too warm. On every possible occasion, and in
every possible way, efficient and kindly assistance was given,
and this was all the more valuable because a lot of work had
to be done before the ship could sail from Lyttelton. The rigging
had to be thoroughly overhauled and refitted; the magneticians
had to undertake the comparison of their delicate instruments,
and as this was the last occasion on which it could be done special
attention was necessary; and a large quantity of stores had to
be shipped, because some of those in the Discovery had been damaged
by the leaky state of the ship. This leak had never been dangerous,
but all the same it had entailed many weary hours of pumping,
and had caused much waste of time and of provisions. Among the
many skilled workmen, whose united labor had produced the solid
structure of the Discovery's hull, had been one who had shirked
his task, and although the ship was docked and most determined
and persistent efforts were made to find the leak, it succeeded
in avoiding detection.
As the month of December advanced the scene on the ship was a
very busy one, but at last the day for sailing from Lyttelton
arrived, though not for the final departure from civilization,
because a short visit was to be paid to Port Chalmers in the
south to complete the stock of coal. On Saturday, December 21,
the ship lay alongside the wharf ready for sea and very deeply
laden. 'One could reflect that it would have been impossible
to have got more into her, and that all we had got seemed necessary
for the voyage, for the rest we could only trust that Providence
would vouch-safe to us fine weather and an easy passage to the
south.'
New Zealand, to the last, was bent on showing its enthusiasm
for the expedition. Two men-of-war steamed slowly out ahead of
the Discovery, while no fewer than five steamers, crowded with
passengers, and with bands playing and whistles hooting, also
accompanied her, until the open sea was reached and the Discovery
slowly steamed out between the war-ships that seemed to stand
as sentinels to the bay. And then, before the cheers of thousands
of friends were hardly out of the ears of those on board, a tragedy
happened. Among the ship's company who had crowded into the rigging
to wave their farewells was one young seaman, named Charles Bonner,
who, more venturesome than the rest, had climbed above the
crow's-nest to the top of the main-mast. There, seated on the
truck, he had remained cheering, until in a moment of madness
he raised himself into a standing position, and almost directly
afterwards he fell and was instantaneously killed. On the Monday
the ship arrived at Port Chalmers, and Bonner was buried with
naval honors.
By noon on the following day the Discovery was clear of the harbor
bar, and was soon bowling along under steam and sail towards
the south. The last view of civilization, the last sight of fields
and flowers had come and gone on Christmas Eve, 1901, and Christmas
Day found the ship in the open expanse of the Southern Ocean,
though after such a recent parting from so many kind friends
no one felt inclined for the customary festivities.
In good sea trim the Discovery had little to fear from the worst
gales, but at this time she was so heavily laden that had she
encountered heavy seas the consequences must have been very
unpleasant. Inevitably much of her large deck cargo must have
been lost; the masses of wood on the superstructure would have
been in great danger, while all the sheep and possibly many of
the dogs would have been drowned. Fine weather, however, continued,
and on January 3 Scott and his companions crossed the Antarctic
Circle, little thinking how long a time would elapse before they
would recross it. At length they had entered the Antarctic regions;
before them lay the scene of their work, and all the trials of
preparation, and the anxiety of delays, were forgotten in the
fact that they had reached their goal in time to make use of
the best part of the short open season in these icebound regions.
Soon the pack was on all sides of them, but as yet so loose that
there were many large pools of open water. And then for several
days the ship had really to fight her way, and Scott gave high
praise to the way she behaved: 'The "Discovery" is a perfect
gem in the pack. Her size and weight behind such a stem seem
to give quite the best combination possible for such a purpose.
We have certainly tried her thoroughly, for the pack which we
have come through couldn't have been looked at by Ross even with
a gale of wind behind him.'
Necessarily progress became slow, but life abounds in the pack,
and the birds that came to visit the ship were a source of perpetual
interest. The pleasantest and most constant of these visitors
was the small snow petrel, with its dainty snow-white plumage
relieved only by black beak and feet, and black, beady eye. These
little birds abound in the pack-ice, but the blue-grey southern
fulmar and the Antarctic petrel were also to be seen, and that
unwholesome scavenger, the giant petrel, frequently lumbered by;
while the skua gull, most pugnacious of bullies, occasionally
flapped past, on his way to make some less formidable bird disgorge
his hard-earned dinner.
The squeak of the penguin was constantly heard, at first afar
and often long before the birds were seen. Curiosity drew them
to the ship, and as she forced her way onward these little visitors
would again and again leap into the water, and journey from floe
to floe in their eagerness to discover what this strange apparition
could be. Some of the sailors became very expert in imitating
their calls, and could not only attract them from a long distance,
but would visibly add to their astonishment when they approached.
These were busy days for the penguins.
In all parts of the pack seals are plentiful and spend long hours
asleep on the floes. The commonest kind is the crab-eater or
white seal, but the Ross seal is not rare, and there and there
is found the sea-leopard, ranging wide and preying on the penguins
and even on the young of its less powerful brethren. It is curious
to observe that both seals and penguins regard themselves as
safe when out of the water. In the sea they are running risks
all the time, and in that element Nature has made them swift
to prey or to avoid being preyed upon. But once on ice or land
they have known no enemy, and cannot therefore conceive one.
The seal merely raises its head when anyone approaches, and then
with but little fear; whereas it is often difficult to drive
the penguin into the water, for he is firmly convinced that the
sea is the sole source of danger. Several seals were killed for
food, and from the first seal-meat was found palatable, if not
altogether the form of diet to recommend to an epicure. The great
drawback to the seal is that there is no fat except blubber,
and blubber has a very strong taste and most penetrating smell.
At this time blubber was an abomination to everyone both in taste
and smell, and if the smallest scrap happened to have been cooked
with the meat, dinner was a wasted meal. Later on, however, this
smell lost most of its terrors, while seal-steaks and seal-liver
and kidneys were treated almost as luxuries.
On the morning of January 8 a strong water sky could be seen,
and soon afterwards the officer of the watch hailed from aloft
the glad tidings of an open sea to the south. Presently the ship
entered a belt where the ice lay in comparatively small pieces,
and after pushing her way through this for over a mile, she reached
the hard line where the ice abruptly ended, and to the south
nothing but a clear sky could be seen. At 10.30 P.M. on the same
evening the joy of being again in the open sea was intensified
by a shout of 'Land in sight,' and all who were not on deck quickly
gathered there to take their first look at the Antarctic Continent.
The sun, near the southern horizon, still shone in a cloudless
sky, and far away to the south-west the blue outline of the high
mountain peaks of Victoria Land could be seen. The course was
now directed for Robertson Bay, and after some difficulty, owing
to the reappearance of loose streams of pack-ice, the ship was
eventually steered into the open water within the bay.
Robertson Bay is formed by the long peninsula of Cape Adare,
within which, standing but slightly above the level of the sea,
is a curious triangular spit, probably the morainic remains of
the vaster ice conditions of former ages. It was on this spit
that the expedition sent forth by Sir George Newnes and commanded
by Borchgrevink spent their winter in 1896, the first party to
winter on the shores of the Antarctic Continent. Here Scott decided
to land for a short time, and very soon Armitage, Bernacchi and
Barne were at work among the thousands of penguins that abounded,
while the naturalists wandered further afield in search of specimens.
In the center of Cape Adare beach the hut used by the members
of Borchgrevink's party was still found to be standing in very
good condition, though at the best of times deserted dwellings
are far from cheerful to contemplate. Bernacchi had been a member
of this small party of eight, and on the spot he recalled the past,
and told of the unhappy death of Hanson--one of his comrades.
Later on Bernacchi and some others landed again to visit Hanson's
grave, and to see that all was well with it. They took a tin cylinder
containing the latest report of the voyage with them, and were
told to place it in some conspicuous part of the hut. In the
following year this cylinder was found by the Morning, [Footnote:
The relief ship.] and so the first information was given that
the Discovery had succeeded in reaching these southern regions.
On January 10, when the weather was still calm and bright, the
ship again stood out to sea, and was steered close around Cape
Adare in the hope of finding a clear channel near at hand. Very
soon, however, the tidal stream began to make from the south,
and the whole aspect of the streams of heavy pack-ice rapidly
changed. Almost immediately the pack was about the ship, and
she was being rapidly borne along with it. Across the entrance
to the bay was a chain of grounded icebergs, and it was in this
direction that she was being carried. For the first time they
faced the dangers of the pack, and realized its mighty powers.
Little or nothing could be done, for the floes around them were
heavier than anything they had yet encountered. Twist and turn
as they would no appreciable advance could be made, and in front
of one colossal floe the ship was brought to a standstill for
nearly half an hour. But they still battled on; Armitage remained
aloft, working the ship with admirable patience; the engine-room,
as usual, answered nobly to the call for more steam, and the
Discovery exerted all her powers in the struggle; but, in spite
of these efforts, progress was so slow that it looked almost
certain that she would be carried down among the bergs. 'It was
one of those hours,' Scott says, 'which impress themselves for
ever on the memory. Above us the sun shone in a cloudless sky,
its rays were reflected from a myriad points of tire glistening
pack; behind us lay the lofty snow-clad mountains, the brown
sun-kissed cliffs of the Cape, and the placid glassy waters of
the bay; the air about us was almost breathlessly still; crisp,
clear and sun-lit, it seemed an atmosphere in which all Nature
should rejoice; the silence was broken only by the deep panting
of our engines and the slow, measured hush of the grinding floes;
yet, beneath all, ran this mighty, relentless tide, bearing us
on to possible destruction. It seemed desperately unreal that
danger could exist in the midst of so fair a scene, and as one
paced to and fro on the few feet of throbbing plank that constituted
our bridge, it was difficult to persuade oneself that we were
so completely impotent.'
With the exception of Scott himself only those who were actually
on watch were on deck during this precarious time, for the hour
was early, and the majority were asleep in their bunks below,
happily oblivious of the possible dangers before them. And the
fact that they were not aroused is a proof that a fuss was rarely
made in the Discovery, if it could by any conceivable means be
avoided.
At last, however, release came from this grave danger, and it
came so gradually that it was difficult to say when it happened.
Little by little the tidal stream slackened, the close-locked
floes fell slightly apart, and under her full head of steam the
ship began to forge ahead towards the open sea and safety. 'For
me,' Scott adds, 'the lesson had been a sharp and, I have no
doubt, a salutary one; we were here to fight the elements with
their icy weapons, and once and for all this taught me not to
undervalue the enemy.' During the forenoon the ship was within
seven or eight miles of the high bold coast-line to the south
of Cape Adare, but later she had to be turned outwards so that
the heavy stream of pack-ice drifting along the land could be
avoided. By the morning of the 11th she was well clear of the
land, but the various peaks and headlands which Sir James Ross
had named could be distinctly seen, and gave everyone plenty
to talk and think about. Progress, however, was slow, owing to
a brisk S. E. wind and the fact that only one boiler was being
used.
Of all economies practiced on board the most important was that
of coal, but Scott was not at all sure that this decision to
use only one boiler was really economical. Certainly coal was
saved but time was also wasted, and against an adverse wind the
Discovery could only make fifty-five miles on the 11th, and on
the 12th she scarcely made any headway at all, for the wind had
increased and a heavy swell was coming up from the south.
To gain shelter Scott decided to turn in towards the high cliffs
of Coulman Island, the land of which looked illusively near as
they approached it. So strong was this deception that the engines
were eased when the ship was still nearly two miles away from
the cliffs. Later on, in their winter quarters and during their
sledge journeys, they got to know how easy it was to be deluded as
regards distance, and what very false appearances distant objects
could assume. This matter is of interest, because it shows that
Polar explorers must be exceedingly cautious in believing the
evidence of their own eyes, and it also explains the errors
which the Discovery expedition found to have been made by former
explorers, and which they knew must have been made in all good faith.
During the night of the 13th the ship lay under the shelter of
Coulman Island, but by the morning the wind had increased to
such a furious gale, and the squalls swept down over the cliffs
with such terrific violence, that in spite of every effort to
keep her in her station she began to lose ground. In the afternoon
the wind force was ninety miles an hour, and as they continued
to lose ground they got into a more choppy sea, which sent the
spray over them in showers, to freeze as it fell.
Again the situation was far from pleasant; to avoid one berg
they were forced to go about, and in doing so they ran foul of
another. As they came down on it the bowsprit just swept clear
of its pinnacled sides, and they took the shock broad on their
bows. It sent the ship reeling round, but luckily on the right
tack to avoid further complications. The following night was
dismal enough; again and again small bergs appeared through the
blinding spray and drift, and only with great difficulty could the
unmanageable ship be brought to clear them. Even gales, however,
must have an end, and towards morning the wind moderated, and
once more they were able to steam up close to the island. And
there, between two tongues of ice off Cape Wadworth, they landed
on the steep rocks and erected a staff bearing a tin cylinder
with a further record of the voyage. By the time this had been
done the wind had fallen completely, and in the evening the ship
entered a long inlet between Cape Jones and the barrier-ice, and
later turned out, of this into a smaller inlet in the barrier-ice
itself. She was now in a very well-sheltered spot, and night,
as often happened in the Antarctic regions, was turned into day
so that several seals could be killed. 'It, seemed a terrible
desecration,' Scott says, 'to come to this quiet spot only to
murder its innocent inhabitants, and stain the white snow with
blood.' But there was the best of all excuses, namely necessity,
for this massacre, because there was no guarantee that seals
would be found near the spot in which the ship wintered, and
undoubtedly the wisest plan was to make sure of necessary food.
While the seal carcasses and some ice for the boilers were being
obtained, Scott turned in to get some rest before putting out
to sea again, and on returning to the deck at 7.30 he was told
that the work was completed, but that some five hours before
Wilson, Ferrar, Cross and Weller had got adrift of a floe, and
that no one had thought of picking them up. Although the sun
had been shining brightly all night, the temperature had been down
to 18°, and afar off Scott could see four disconsolate figures
tramping about, and trying to keep themselves warm on a detached
floe not more than fifteen yards across.
When at length the wanderers scrambled over the side it was very
evident that they had a grievance, and not until they had been
warmed by hot cocoa could they talk with ease of their experiences.
They had been obliged to keep constantly on the move, and when
they thought of smoking to relieve the monotony they found that
they had pipes and tobacco, but no matches. While, however, they
were dismally bemoaning this unfortunate state of affairs Wilson,
who did not smoke, came to the rescue and succeeded in producing
fire with a small pocket magnifying glass--a performance which
testified not only to Wilson's resource, but also to the power
of the sun in these latitudes.
On the 17th the ship had to stand out farther and farther from
the land to clear the pack, and when on the 18th she arrived in
the entrance to Wood Bay it was also found to be heavily packed. A
way to the N. and N.W. the sharp peaks of Monteagle and Murchison,
among bewildering clusters of lesser summits, could be seen;
across the bay rose the magnificent bare cliff of Cape Sibbald,
while to the S.W. the eye lingered pleasantly upon the uniform
outline of Mount Melbourne. This fine mountain rears an almost
perfect volcanic cone to a height of 9,000 feet, and with no
competing height to take from its grandeur, it constitutes the
most magnificent landmark on the coast. Cape Washington, a bold,
sharp headland, projects from the foot of the mountain on its
eastern side, and finding such heavy pack in Wood Bay, Scott
decided to turn to the south to pass around this cape.
From this point the voyage promised to be increasingly interesting,
since the coast to the south of Cape Washington was practically
unknown. Pack-ice was still a formidable obstacle, but on the
20th the Discovery pushed her way into an inlet where she met
ice which had been formed inside and but recently broken up. The
ice was perfectly smooth, and as it showed absolutely no sign
of pressure there was no doubting that this inlet would make a
secure wintering harbor. Already a latitude had been reached in
which it was most desirable to find safe winter quarters for the
ship. In England many people had thought that Wood Bay would be
the most southerly spot where security was likely to be found, but
Scott had seen enough of the coast-line to the south of that place
to realize the impossibility of traveling along it in sledges,
and to convince him that if any advance to the south was to be
made, a harbor in some higher latitude must be found.
This inlet was afterwards named Granite Harbor, and so snug and
secure a spot was it to winter in that Scott expressed his
thankfulness that he did not yield to its allurements. 'Surrounded
as we should have been by steep and lofty hills, we could have
obtained only the most local records of climatic conditions, and
our meteorological observations would have been comparatively
valueless; but the greatest drawback would have been that we
should be completely cut off from traveling over the sea-ice
beyond the mouth of our harbor.... It is when one remembers how
naturally a decision to return to this place might have been
made, that one sees how easily the results of the expedition
might have been missed.'
It was, however, consoling at the time to know that, in default of
a better place, a safe spot had been found for wintering, so with
Granite Harbor in reserve the ship again took up her battle with
the ice; and on the 21st she was in the middle of McMurdo Sound,
and creeping very slowly through the pack-ice, which appeared
from the crow's-nest to extend indefinitely ahead. They were now
within a few miles of the spot where they ultimately took up their
winter quarters, but nearly three weeks were to pass before they
returned there. 'At 8 P.M. on the 21st,' Scott says, 'we thought
we knew as much of this region as our heavy expenditure of coal
in the pack-ice would justify us in finding out, and as before us
lay the great unsolved problem of the barrier and of what lay
beyond it, we turned our course with the cry of Eastward ho!'
CHAPTER III
IN SEARCH OF WINTER QUARTERS
Beholde I see the haven near at hand
To which I mean my wearie course to bend;
Vere the main sheet and bear up to the land
To which afore is fairly to be ken'd.
--SPENSER, Faerie Queene.
In their journey from Cape Washington to the south something had
already been done to justify the dispatch of the expedition. A
coast-line which hitherto had been seen only at a great distance,
and reported so indefinitely that doubts were left with regard
to its continuity, had been resolved into a concrete chain of
mountains; and the positions and forms of individual heights,
with the curious ice formations and the general line of the coast,
had been observed. In short the map of the Antarctic had already
received valuable additions, and whatever was to happen in the
future that, at any rate, was all to the good.
At 8 P.M. on the 22nd the ship arrived off the bare land to the
westward of Cape Crozier, where it was proposed to erect a post
and leave a cylinder containing an account of their doings, so
that the chain of records might be completed. After a landing
had been made with some difficulty, a spot was chosen in the
center of the penguin rookery on a small cliff overlooking the
sea, and here the post was set up and anchored with numerous
boulders. In spite of every effort to mark the place, at a few
hundred yards it was almost impossible to distinguish it; but
although this small post on the side of a vast mountain looked
a hopeless clue, it eventually brought the Morning into McMurdo
Sound.
While Bernacchi and Barne set up their magnetic instruments and
began the chilly task of taking observations, the others set
off in twos and threes to climb the hillside. Scott, Royds and
Wilson scrambled on until at last they reached the summit of
the highest of the adjacent volcanic cones, and were rewarded
by a first view of the Great Ice Barrier. [Footnote: The immense
sheet of ice, over 400 miles wide and of still greater length.]
'Perhaps,' Scott says, 'of all the problems which lay before
us in the south we were most keenly interested in solving the
mysteries of this great ice-mass.... For sixty years it had been
discussed and rediscussed, and many a theory had been built on
the slender foundation of fact which alone the meager information
concerning it could afford. Now for the first time this extraordinary
ice-formation was seen from above.... It was an impressive sight
and the very vastness of what lay at our feet seemed to add to
our sense of its mystery.'
Early on the 23rd they started to steam along the ice-face of
the barrier; and in order that nothing should be missed it was
arranged that the ship should continue to skirt close to the
ice-cliff, that the officers of the watch should repeatedly observe
and record its height, and that three times in the twenty-four
hours the ship should be stopped and a sounding taken. In this
manner a comparatively accurate survey of the northern limit
of the barrier was made.
On steaming along the barrier it was found that although they
were far more eager to gain new information than to prove that
old information was incorrect, a very strong case soon began
to arise against the Parry Mountains, which Ross had described
as 'probably higher than we have yet seen'; and later on it was
known with absolute certainty that these mountains did not exist.
This error on the part of such a trustworthy and cautious observer,
Scott ascribes to the fact that Ross, having exaggerated the
height of the barrier, was led to suppose that anything seen
over it at a distance must be of great altitude. 'But,' he adds,
'whatever the cause, the facts show again how deceptive appearances
may be and how easily errors may arise. In fact, as I have said
before, one cannot always afford to trust the evidence of one's
own eyes.' Though the ship was steaming along this ice-wall for
several days, the passage was not in the least monotonous, because
new variations were continually showing themselves, and all of
them had to be carefully observed and recorded. This work continued
for several days until, on January 29, they arrived at a particularly
interesting place, to the southward and eastward of the extreme
position reached by Ross in 1842. From that position he had reported
a strong appearance of land to the southeast, and consequently
all eyes were directed over the icy cliffs in that direction.
But although the afternoon was bright and clear, nothing from
below or from aloft could be seen, and the only conclusion to
be made was that the report was based on yet another optical
illusion.
But in spite of the disappointment at being unable to report
that Ross's 'appearance of land' rested on solid foundations,
there was on the afternoon of the 29th an indescribable sense
of impending change. 'We all felt that the plot was thickening,
and we could not fail to be inspirited by the fact that we had
not so far encountered the heavy pack-ice which Ross reported
in this region, and that consequently we were now sailing in
an open sea into an unknown world.'
The course lay well to the northward of east, and the change came
at 8 P.M. when suddenly the ice-cliff turned to the east, and
becoming more and more irregular continued in that direction for
about five miles, when again it turned sharply to the north. Into
the deep bay thus formed they ran, and as the ice was approached
they saw at once that it was unlike anything yet seen. The ice-foot
descended to various heights of ten or twenty feet above the
water, and behind it the snow surface rose in long undulating
slopes to rounded ridges, the heights of which could only be
guessed. Whatever doubt remained in their minds that this was
snow-covered land, a sounding of 100 fathoms quickly removed it.
But what a land! On the swelling mounds of snow above them there
was not one break, not a feature to give definition to the hazy
outline. No scene could have been more perfectly devised to produce
optical illusions. And then, while there was so much to observe,
a thick fog descended, and blotted out all hope of seeing what
lay beyond the ice-foot. During the afternoon of January 30 the
fog was less dense, but still no sign of bare land could be seen,
and it was not until the bell had sounded for the evening meal
that two or three little black patches, which at first were mistaken
for detached cloud, appeared. 'We gazed idly enough at them till
someone remarked that he did not believe they were clouds; then all
glasses were leveled; assertions and contradictions were numerous,
until the small black patches gradually assumed more and more
definite shape, and all agreed that at last we were looking at
real live rock, the actual substance of our newly discovered
land.... It is curious to reflect now on the steps which led us
to the discovery of King Edward's Land, and the chain of evidence
which came to us before the actual land itself was seen: at first
there had been the shallow soundings, and the sight of gently
rising snow-slopes, of which, in the nature of things, one is
obliged to retain a doubt; then the steeper broken slopes of
snow, giving a contrast to convey a surer evidence to the eye;
and, finally the indubitable land itself, but even then surrounded
with such mystery as to leave us far from complete satisfaction
with our discovery.'
The temptation to push farther and farther to the east was almost
irresistible, but with the young ice forming rapidly around them,
Scott, on February 1, decided to return, and on their way back
along the barrier they experienced much lower temperatures than
on the outward journey. During the return journey they landed
on the barrier, and on February 4 preparations for a balloon
ascent were made. 'The honor,' Scott says, 'of being the first
aeronaut to make an ascent in the Antarctic Regions, perhaps
somewhat selfishly, I chose for myself, and I may further confess
that in so doing I was contemplating the first ascent I had made
in any region, and as I swayed about in what appeared a very
inadequate basket and gazed down on the rapidly diminishing figures
below, I felt some doubt as to whether I had been wise in my choice.'
If, however, this ascent was not altogether enjoyed by the aeronaut,
it, at any rate, gave him considerable information about the
barrier surface towards the south; and, to his surprise, he
discovered that instead of the continuous level plain that he had
expected, it continued in a series of long undulations running
approximately east and west, or parallel to the barrier surface.
Later on, however, when the sledge-party taken out by Armitage
returned, they reported that these undulations were not gradual
as had been supposed from the balloon, but that the crest of each
wave was flattened into a long plateau, from which the descent
into the succeeding valley was comparatively sharp. On the evening
of the 4th they put out to sea again, and on the 8th they were
once more in McMurdo Sound, with high hopes that they would soon
find a sheltered nook in which the Discovery could winter safely,
and from which the sledge-parties could set forth upon the task
of exploring the vast new world around them.
Without any delay they set out to examine their immediate
surroundings, and found a little bay which promised so well for
the winter that Scott's determination to remain in this region
was at once strengthened. The situation, however, was surrounded
with difficulties, for although the ice had broken far afield
it refused to move out of the small bay on which they had looked
with such eager eyes; consequently they were forced to cling to
the outskirts of the bay with their ice-anchors, in depths that
were too great to allow the large anchors to be dropped to the
bottom. The weather also was troublesome, for after the ship had
lain quietly during several hours a sudden squall would fling
her back on her securing ropes, and, uprooting the ice-anchors,
would ultimately send her adrift.
In spite, however, of the difficulty of keeping the ship in position,
steady progress was made with the work on shore, and this consisted
mainly in erecting the various huts which had been brought in
pieces. The original intention had been that the Discovery should
not winter in the Antarctic, but should land a small party and turn
northward before the season closed, and for this party a large hut
had been carried south. But even when it had been decided to keep
the ship as a home, it was obvious that a shelter on shore must be
made before exploring parties could be safely sent away; since
until the ship was frozen in a heavy gale might have driven her
off her station for several days, if not altogether. In seeking
winter quarters so early in February, Scott had been firmly
convinced that the season was closing in. 'With no experience
to guide us, our opinion could only be based on the very severe
and unseasonable conditions which we had met with to the east.
But now to our astonishment we could see no sign of a speedy
freezing of the bay; the summer seemed to have taken a new lease,
and for several weeks the fast sea-ice continued to break silently
and to pass quietly away to the north in large floes.'
In addition to the erection of the main hut, two small huts which
had been brought for the magnetic instruments had to be put together.
The parts of these were, of course, numbered, but the wood was
so badly warped that Dailey, the carpenter, had to use a lot
of persuasion before the joints would fit.
On February 14 Scott wrote in his diary: 'We have landed all
the dogs, and their kennels are ranged over the hillside below
the huts.... It is surprising what a number of things have to be
done, and what an unconscionable time it takes to do them. The
hut-building is slow work, and much of our time has been taken
in securing the ship.... Names have been given to the various
landmarks in our vicinity. The end of our peninsula is to be
called "Cape Armitage," after our excellent navigator. The sharp
hill above it is to be "Observation Hill."... Next comes the
"Gap," through which we can cross the peninsula at a comparatively
low level. North of the "Gap" are "Crater Heights," and the higher
volcanic peak beyond is to be "Crater Hill"; it is 1,050 feet
in height. Our protecting promontory is to be "Hut Point," with
"Arrival Bay" on the north and "Winter Quarter Bay" on the south;
above "Arrival Bay" are the "Arrival Heights," which continue
with breaks for about three miles to a long snow-slope, beyond
which rises the most conspicuous landmark on our peninsula, a
high, precipitous-sided rock with a flat top, which has been
dubbed "Castle Rock"; it is 1,350 feet in height.
'In spite of the persistent wind, away up the bay it is possible
to get some shelter, and here we take our ski exercise.... Skelton
is by far the best of the officers, though possibly some of the
men run him close.'
On the 19th the first small reconnoitering sledge party went
out, and on their return three days later they were so excited
by their experiences that some time passed before they could
answer the questions put to them. Although the temperature had
not been severe they had nearly got into serious trouble by
continuing their march in a snowstorm, and when they did stop
to camp they were so exhausted that frost-bites were innumerable.
The tent had been difficult to get up, and all sorts of trouble
with the novel cooking apparatus had followed. 'It is strange
now,' Scott wrote three years later, 'to look back on these first
essays at sledding, and to see how terribly hampered we were by
want of experience.'
By February 26 the main hut was practically finished, and as
a quantity of provisions and oil, with fifteen tons of coal,
had been landed, the ship could be left without anxiety, and
arrangements for the trip, which Scott hoped to lead himself,
were pushed forward. The object of this journey was to try and
reach the record at Cape Crozier over the barrier, and to leave
a fresh communication there with details of the winter quarters.
On the following day, however, Scott damaged his right knee while
skiing, and had to give up all idea of going to Cape Crozier.
'I already foresaw how much there was to be learnt if we were
to do good sledding work in the spring, and to miss such an
opportunity of gaining experience was terribly trying; however,
there was nothing to be done but to nurse my wounded limb and
to determine that never again would I be so rash as to run hard
snow-slopes on ski.'
By March 4 the preparation of the sledge party was completed.
The party consisted of four officers, Royds, Koettlitz, Skelton
and Barne, and eight men, and was divided into two teams, each
pulling a single sledge and each assisted by four dogs. But again
the want of experience was badly felt, and in every respect the
lack of system was apparent. Though each requirement might have
been remembered, all were packed in a confused mass, and, to
use a sailor's expression, 'everything was on top and nothing
handy.' Once more Scott comments upon this lack of experience: 'On
looking back I am only astonished that we bought that experience so
cheaply, for clearly there were the elements of catastrophe as
well as of discomfort in the disorganized condition in which our
first sledge parties left the ship.'
The days following the departure of the sledge party were
exceptionally fine, but on Tuesday, March 11, those on board
the ship woke to find the wind blowing from the east; and in
the afternoon the wind increased, and the air was filled with
thick driving snow. This Tuesday was destined to be one of the
blackest days spent by the expedition in the Antarctic, but no
suspicion that anything untoward had happened to the sledge party
arose until, at 8.30 P.M., there was a report that four men were
walking towards the ship. Then the sense of trouble was immediate,
and the first disjointed sentences of the newcomers were enough
to prove that disasters had occurred. The men, as they emerged
from their thick clothing, were seen to be Wild, Weller, Heald
and Plumley, but until Scott had called Wild, who was the most
composed of the party, aside, he could not get any idea of what
had actually happened, and even Wild was too exhausted, and
excited to give anything but a meager account.
Scott, however, did manage to discover that a party of nine,
In charge of Barne, had been sent back, and early in the day
had reached the crest of the hills somewhere by Castle Rock.
In addition, Wild told him, to the four who had returned, the
party had consisted of Barne, Quartley, Evans, Hare and Vince.
They had thought that they were quite close to the ship, and
when the blizzard began they had left their tents and walked
towards her supposed position. Then they found themselves on
a steep slope and tried to keep close together, but it was
impossible to see anything. Suddenly Hare had disappeared, and
a few minutes after Evans went. Barne and Quartley had left them
to try to find out what had become of Evans, and neither of them
had come back, though they waited. Afterwards they had gone on,
and had suddenly found themselves at the edge of a precipice with
the sea below; Vince had shot past over the edge. Wild feared
all the others must be lost; he was sure Vince had gone. Could
he guide a search party to the scene of the accident? He thought
he could--at any rate he would like to try.
The information was little enough but it was something on which
to act, and though the first disastrous news had not been brought
until 8.30 P.M. the relieving party had left the ship before
9 P.M. Owing to his knee Scott could not accompany the party,
and Armitage took charge of it.
Subsequently the actual story of the original sledge party was
known, and the steps that led to the disaster could be traced.
On their outward journey they had soon come to very soft snow,
and after three days of excessive labor Royds had decided that
the only chance of making progress was to use snow-shoes; but
unfortunately there were only three pairs of ski with the party,
and Royds resolved to push on to Cape Crozier with Koettlitz
and Skelton, and to send the remainder back in charge of Barne.
The separation took place on the 9th, and on the 11th the returning
party, having found an easier route than on their way out, were
abreast of Castle Rock. Scarcely, however, had they gained the
top of the ridge about half a mile south-west of Castle Rock, when
a blizzard came on and the tents were hastily pitched.
'We afterwards weathered many a gale,' Scott says, 'in our staunch
little tents, whilst their canvas sides flapped thunderously hour
after hour.... But to this party the experience was new; they
expected each gust that swept down on them would bear the tents
bodily away, and meanwhile the chill air crept through their
leather boots and ill-considered clothing, and continually some
frost-bitten limb had to be nursed back to life.'
At ordinary times hot tea or cocoa would have revived their spirits,
but now the cooking apparatus was out of order, and taking everything
into consideration it was small wonder that they resolved to make
for the ship, which they believed to be only a mile or so distant.
'Before leaving,' Barne wrote in his report, 'I impressed on the
men, as strongly as I could, the importance of keeping together, as
it was impossible to distinguish any object at a greater distance
than ten yards on account of the drifting snow.' But after they
had struggled a very short distance, Hare, who had been at the
rear of the party, was reported to be missing, and soon afterwards
Evans 'stepped back on a patch of bare smooth ice, fell, and
shot out of sight immediately.'
Then Barne, having cautioned his men to remain where they were,
sat down and deliberately started to slide in Evans's track.
In a moment the slope grew steeper, and he was going at such a
pace that all power to check himself had gone. In the mad rush
he had time to wonder vaguely what would come next, and then
his flight was arrested, and he stood up to find Evans within
a few feet of him. They had scarcely exchanged greetings when
the figure of Quartley came hurtling down upon them from the
gloom, for he had started on the same track, and had been swept
down in the same breathless and alarming manner. To return by
the way they had come down was impossible, and so they decided
to descend, but within four paces of the spot at which they had
been brought to rest, they found that the slope ended suddenly in
a steep precipice, beyond which nothing but clouds of snow could
be seen. For some time after this they sat huddled together,
forlornly hoping that the blinding drift would cease, but at
last they felt that whatever happened they must keep on the move,
and groping their way to the right they realized that the sea was
at their feet, and that they had been saved from it by a patch
of snow almost on the cornice of the cliff. Presently a short
break in the storm enabled them to see Castle Rock above their
heads, and slowly making their way up the incline, they sought
the shelter of a huge boulder; and there, crouched together,
they remained for several hours.
Meanwhile the party had remained in obedience to orders at the
head of the slope, and had shouted again and again in the lulls
of the whirling storm. But after waiting for a long time they
felt that something was amiss, and that it was hopeless to remain
where they were. 'As usual on such occasions,' Scott says, 'the
leading spirit came to the fore, and the five who now remained
submitted themselves to the guidance of Wild, and followed him
in single file as he again struck out in the direction in which
they supposed the ship to lie.' In this manner they descended for
about 500 yards, until Wild suddenly saw the precipice beneath
his feet, and far below, through the wreathing snow, the sea.
He sprang back with a cry of warning, but in an instant Vince
had flashed past and disappeared.
Then, horror-stricken and dazed, they vaguely realized that at
all costs they must ascend the slope down which they had just
come. All of them spoke afterwards of that ascent with horror,
and wondered how it had ever been made. They could only hold
themselves by the soles of their boots, and to slip to their
knees meant inevitably to slide backwards towards the certain
fate below. Literally their lives depended on each foothold.
Wild alone had a few light nails in his boots, and to his great
credit he used this advantage to give a helping hand in turn
to each of his companions. When, after desperate exertions, they
did reach the top of the slope their troubles were not finished,
for they were still ignorant of the position of the ship. Wild,
however, again took the lead, and it was largely due to him that
the party eventually saw the ship looming through the whirl of
snow. 'It is little wonder that after such an experience they
should have been, as I have mentioned, both excited and tired.'
The hours following the departure of Armitage and his search
party on this fatal night were unforgettable. Scott, hatefully
conscious of his inability to help on account of his injured leg,
admits that he could not think of any further means to render
assistance, but he says, 'as was always my experience in the
Discovery, my companions were never wanting in resource.' Soon
the shrill screams of the siren were echoing among the hills,
and in ten minutes after the suggestion had been made, a whaler
was swinging alongside ready to search the cliffs on the chance
of finding Vince.
But for Scott and those who had to wait inactively on board there
was nothing to do but stand and peer through the driving snow,
and fully three hours passed before there was a hail from without,
and Ferrar appeared leading three of the lost--Barne, Evans and
Quartley. An hour later the main search party returned, having
done all that men could do in such weather. A more complete search
was impossible, but it had to be admitted that the chance of
seeing Hare or Vince again was very small. Sadly it had to be
realized that two men were almost certainly lost, but there was
also no disguising the fact that a far greater tragedy might
have happened. Indeed, it seemed miraculous that any of the party
were alive to tell the tale, and had not Barne, Evans and Quartley
heard the faint shrieks of the siren, and in response to its
welcome sound made one more effort to save themselves, the sledge
party would in all probability not have found them. All three
of them were badly frost-bitten, and one of Barne's hands was
in such a serious condition that for many days it was thought
that his fingers would have to be amputated.
The end of this story, however, is not yet told, for on March
13 Scott wrote in his diary: 'A very extraordinary thing has
happened. At 10 A.M. a figure was seen descending the hillside.
At first we thought it must be some one who had been for an early
walk; but it was very soon seen that the figure was walking weakly,
and, immediately after, the men who were working in the hut were
seen streaming out towards it. In a minute or two we recognized
the figure as that of young Hare, and in less than five he was
on board.... We soon discovered that though exhausted, weak,
and hungry, he was in full possession of his faculties and quite
free from frost-bites. He went placidly off to sleep whilst
objecting to the inadequacy of a milk diet.'
Later on Hare, who like Vince had been wearing fur boots, explained
that he had left his companions to return to the sledges and get
some leather boots, and had imagined that the others understood
what he intended to do. Soon after he had started back he was
wandering backwards and forwards, and knew that he was walking
aimlessly to and fro. The last thing he remembered was making
for a patch of rock where he hoped to find shelter, and there
he must have lain in the snow for thirty-six hours, though he
required a lot of persuasion before he could be convinced of
this. When he awoke he found himself covered with snow, but on
raising himself he recognized Crater Hill and other landmarks,
and realized exactly where the ship lay. Then he started towards
her, but until his intense stiffness wore off he was obliged
to travel upon his hands and knees.
But though Hare was safe, Vince was undoubtedly gone. 'Finally
and sadly we had to resign ourselves to the loss of our shipmate,
and the thought was grievous to all.... Life was a bright thing
to him, and it is something to think that death must have come
quickly in the grip of that icy sea.'
This fatal mishap naturally caused increased anxiety about the
three men who had gone on, and anxiety was not diminished when,
on the 19th, Skelton was seen coming down, the hill alone. The
others, however, were close behind him, and all three of them
were soon safely on board.
On the 15th Royds had been compelled to abandon the attempt to
reach the record at Cape Crozier, but he did not turn back until
it was evident that a better equipped party with more favorable
weather would easily get to it. On comparing notes with his party,
Scott recognized what a difference there might be in the weather
conditions of places within easy reach of the ship, and not only
in temperature but also in the force and direction of the wind.
It had not occurred to anyone that within such a short distance
of the ship any large difference of temperature was probable,
and as the summer was barely over, Royds, Koettlitz and Skelton
had only taken a light wolf-skin fur suit for night-wear. This,
however, had proved totally inadequate when the thermometer fell
to -42°, and on the night of the 16th uncontrollable paroxysms of
shivering had prevented them from getting any sleep. The value of
proper clothing and the wisdom of being prepared for the unexpected
rigors of such a fickle climate, were two of the lessons learnt
from the experiences of the Cape Crozier party.
As the days of March went by Scott began really to wonder whether
the sea ever intended to freeze over satisfactorily, and at such
an advanced date there were many drawbacks in this unexpected
state of affairs. Until the ship was frozen in, the security of
their position was very doubtful; economy of coal had long since
necessitated the extinction of fires in the boilers, and if a
heavy gale drove the ship from her shelter, steam could only be
raised with difficulty and after the lapse of many hours. There
was, too, the possibility that the ship, if once driven off,
would not be able to return, and so it was obviously unsafe to
send a large party away from her, because if she went adrift
most of them would be needed.
Another annoying circumstance was that until they had a solid sheet
of ice around them they could neither set up the meteorological
screen, nor, in short, carry out any of the routine scientific
work which was such an important object of the expedition.
At this time Scott was eager to make one more sledding effort
before the winter set in. The ostensible reason was to layout a
depôt of provisions to the south in preparation for the spring,
but 'a more serious purpose was to give himself and those who had
not been away already a practical insight into the difficulties
of sledge traveling. But as this party would have to include
the majority of those on board, he was forced to wait until the
ship was firmly fixed, and it may be said that the Discovery
was as reluctant to freeze-in as she was difficult to get out
when once the process had been completed.
On March 28, however, Scott was able to write in his diary: 'The
sea is at last frozen over, and if this weather lasts the ice
should become firm enough to withstand future gales. We have
completed the packing of our sledges, though I cannot say I am
pleased with their appearance; the packing is not neat enough,
and we haven't got anything like a system.'
Three days later a party of twelve, divided into two teams, each
with a string of sledges and nine dogs, made a start. Their loads
were arranged on the theory of 200 lbs. to each man, and 100 lbs.
to each dog, but they very quickly discovered that the dogs were
not going to have anything to do with such a theory as this. The
best of them would only pull about 50 lbs., and some of the others
had practically to be pulled.
Later on Scott learned that it was a bad plan to combine men and
dogs on a sledge, because the dogs have their own pace and manner
of pulling, and neither of these is adapted to the unequal movement
caused by the swing of marching men. And on this occasion another
reason for the inefficiency of the dogs was that they were losing
their coats, and had but little protection against the bitterly
cold wind. 'As a matter of fact, our poor dogs suffered a great
deal from their poorly clothed condition during the next week or
two, and we could do little to help them; but Nature seemed to
realize the mistake, and came quickly to the rescue: the new coats
grew surprisingly fast, and before the winter had really settled
down on us all the animals were again enveloped in their normally
thick woolly covering.
The refusal of the dogs to work on this trip meant that the men
had to do far more than their share, and from the first they had
no chance of carrying out their intentions. Each hour, however,
was an invaluable experience, and when a return was made to the
ship Scott was left with much food for thought. 'In one way or
another each journey had been a failure; we had little or nothing
to show for our labors. The errors were patent; food, clothing,
everything was wrong, the whole system was bad. It was clear that
there would have to be a thorough reorganization before the spring,
and it was well to think that before us lay a long winter in which
this might be effected.'
But in a sense even these failures were successful, for everyone
resolved to profit by the mistakes that had been made and the
experience that had been gained, and the successful sledge journeys
subsequently made in the spring were largely due to the failures
of the autumn.
CHAPTER IV
THE POLAR WINTER
The cold ice slept below,
Above the cold sky shone,
And all around
With a chilling sound
From caves of ice and fields of snow
The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.
--SHELLEY.
The sun was due to depart before the end of April, and so no time
could be wasted if the outside work, which had been delayed by
the tardy formation of the ice-sheet, was to be completed before
the daylight vanished.
One of the most urgent operations was to get up the meteorological
screen, which had been made under the superintendence of Royds.
The whole of this rather elaborate erection was, placed about 100
yards astern of the ship, and consequently in a direction which,
with the prevalent south-easterly winds, would be to windward of
her. To obtain a complete record of meteorological observations
was one of the most important scientific objects of the expedition,
and it was decided that the instruments should be read and recorded
every two hours. Consequently in calm or storm some member of the
community had to be on the alert, and every other hour to make the
rounds of the various instruments. On a fine night this was no
great hardship, but in stormy weather the task was not coveted by
anyone. On such occasions it was necessary to be prepared to resist
the wind and snowdrift, and the round itself was often full of
exasperating annoyances. In fact the trials and tribulations of
the meteorological observers were numerous, and it was arranged
that throughout the winter each officer should take it in turn
to make the night observations from 10 P.M. to 6 A.M. Wilson
nobly offered always to take the 8 A.M. observation, but the
lion's share of the work fell on Royds himself, since besides
taking his share of the night work he also, throughout the first
winter and a great part of the second, took all the observations
between 10 A.M. and 10 P.M.
The magnetic huts and all that appertained to them were Bernacchi's
special business, and many times daily he was to be seen journeying
to and fro in attendance upon his precious charge. The general
reader may well ask why so much trouble should be taken to ascertain
small differences in the earth's magnetism, and he can scarcely
be answered in a few words. Broadly speaking, however, the earth
is a magnet, and its magnetism is constantly changing. But why
it is a magnet, or indeed what magnetism may be, is unknown, and
obviously the most hopeful way of finding an explanation of a
phenomenon is to study it. For many reasons the Discovery's winter
station in the Antarctic was an especially suitable place in
which to record the phenomenon of magnetism.
Besides establishing the routine of scientific work many preparations
had to be made for the comfort and well-being of the ship during
the winter, and long before the sun had disappeared the little
company had settled down to a regular round of daily life.
Later in the year Scott wrote in his diary: 'The day's routine for
the officers gives four clear hours before tea and three after;
during these hours all without exception are busily employed
except for the hour or more devoted to exercise.... It would
be difficult to say who is the most diligent, but perhaps the
palm would be given to Wilson, who is always at work; every rough
sketch made since we started is reproduced in an enlarged and
detailed form, until we now possess a splendid pictorial
representation of the whole coastline of Victoria Land.... At
home many no doubt will remember the horrible depression of spirit
that has sometimes been pictured as a pendant to the long polar
night. We cannot even claim to be martyrs in this respect; with
plenty of work the days pass placidly and cheerfully.'
Nearly seven months before Scott wrote in this cheerful spirit of
the winter, he had expressed himself warmly about those who were
to spend it with him. 'I have,' he said in a letter dispatched
from Port Chalmers on the voyage out, 'the greatest admiration
for the officers and men, and feel that their allegiance to me is
a thing assured. Our little society in the wardroom is governed
by a spirit of good fellowship and patience which is all that
the heart of man could desire; I am everlastingly glad to be
one of the company and not forced to mess apart.... The absence
of friction and the fine comradeship displayed throughout is
beyond even my best expectation.'
This spirit of good-fellowship and give-and-take was a remarkable
feature of life during the time spent in the Discovery, and the
only man Scott had a word to say against was the cook. 'We shipped
him at the last moment in New Zealand, when our trained cook
became too big for his boots, and the exchange was greatly for
the worse; I am afraid he is a thorough knave, but what is even
worse, he is dirty--an unforgivable crime in a cook.'
Under such circumstances it is obvious that tempers might have
been overstrained, and apart from the sins of the cook the weather
was unexpectedly troublesome. Almost without exception the North
Polar winter has been recorded as a period of quiescence, but in
the Antarctic the wind blew with monotonous persistency, and calm
days were very few and far between. Nevertheless Scott had little
reason to change his original opinion about his companions, all
of whom were prepared to put up with some unavoidable discomforts,
and to make the best of a long job.
During the winter a very regular weekly routine was kept up, each
day having its special food and its special tasks. The week's
work ended on Friday, and Saturday was devoted to 'clean ship,'
the officers doing their share of the scrubbing. In the forenoon
the living-spaces were thoroughly cleaned, holes and corners were
searched, and while the tub and scrubber held sway the deck became
a 'snipe marsh.' At this time the holds also were cleared up, the
bilges pumped out, the upper deck was 'squared up,' and a fresh
layer of clean snow was sprinkled over that which had been soiled
by the traffic of the week. Then a free afternoon for all hands
followed, and after dinner in the wardroom the toast was the
time-honored one of 'Sweethearts and Wives.'
On Sunday a different garment was put on, not necessarily a newer
or a cleaner one, the essential point being that it should be
different from that which had been worn during the week. By 9.30
the decks had been cleared up, the tables and shelves tidied, and
the first lieutenant reported 'All ready for rounds.' A humble
imitation of the usual man-of-war walk-round Sunday inspection
followed, and Scott had the greatest faith in this system of
routine, not only because it had a most excellent effect on the
general discipline and cleanliness of the ship, but also because
it gave an opportunity to raise and discuss each new arrangement
that was made to increase the comfort of all on board.
After this inspection of both ship and men, the mess-deck was
prepared for church; harmonium, reading-desk and chairs were all
placed according to routine, and the bell was tolled. Scott read
the service, Koettlitz the lessons, and Royds played the harmonium.
Service over, all stood off for the day and looked forward to the
feast of mutton which was limited to Sunday. 'By using it thus
sparingly the handsome gift of the New Zealand farmers should
last us till the early spring. But it is little use to think of
the sad day when it will fail; for the present I must confess that
we always take an extra walk to make quite sure of our appetites
on Sunday.'
On June 23 the festival of mid-winter was celebrated, and the
mess-deck was decorated with designs in colored papers and festooned
with chains and ropes of the same materials. Among the messes
there was a great contest to have the best decorations, and some
astonishing results were achieved with little more than brightly
colored papers, a pair of scissors and a pot of paste. On each
table stood a grotesque figure or fanciful erection of ice, which
was cunningly lighted up by candles from within and sent out
shafts of sparkling light. 'If,' Scott wrote in his diary, 'the
light-hearted scenes of to-day can end the first period of our
captivity, what room for doubt is there that we shall triumphantly
weather the whole term with the same general happiness and
contentment?'
During the winter months the South Polar Times, edited by
Shackleton, appeared regularly, and was read with interest and
amusement by everyone. At first it had been decided that each
number should contain, besides the editorial, a summary of the
events and meteorological conditions of the past month, some
scientifically instructive articles dealing with the work and
surroundings, and others written in a lighter vein; but, as the
scheme developed, it was found that such features as caricatures
and acrostics could be added. One of the pleasantest points in
connection with the Times was that the men contributed as well
as the officers; in fact some of the best, and quite the most
amusing, articles were written by the occupants of the mess-deck.
But beyond all else the journal owed its excellence to Wilson,
who produced drawings that deserved--and ultimately obtained--a
far wider appreciation than could be given to them in the Antarctic.
So great was the desire to contribute to the first number of
the S. P. T. that the editor's box was crammed with manuscripts
by the time the date for sending in contributions had arrived.
From these there was no difficulty in making a selection, but
as there was also some danger of hurting the feelings of those
whose contributions had been rejected, a supplementary journal
named The Blizzard was produced. This publication, however, had
but a brief career, for in spite of some good caricatures and a
very humorous frontispiece by Barne, it was so inferior to the
S. P. T. that even its contributors realized that their mission
in life did not lie in the paths of literary composition. The
Blizzard, in short, served its purpose, and then ceased to exist.
In considering the arrangements to make the ship comfortable
during the dark months, the question of artificial light was as
difficult as it was important. Paraffin had from the first been
suggested as the most suitable illuminant, its main disadvantage
being that it is not a desirable oil to carry in quantities in
a ship. 'Our luckiest find,' Scott says, 'was perhaps the right
sort of lamp in which to burn this oil. Fortunately an old Arctic
explorer, Captain Egerton, presented me with a patent lamp in which
the draught is produced by a fan worked by clockwork mechanism,
and no chimney is needed. One can imagine the great mortality
there would be in chimneys if we were obliged to employ them, so
that when, on trial, this lamp was found to give an excellent
light, others of the same sort were purchased, and we now use them
exclusively in all parts of the ship with extremely satisfactory
results.'
There was, however, a still brighter illuminant within their
reach in the shape of acetylene, but not until it became certain
that they would have to spend a second winter in the Antarctic,
did their thoughts fly to the calcium carbide which had been
provided for the hut, and which they had not previously thought
of using. 'In this manner the darkness of our second winter was
relieved by a light of such brilliancy that all could pursue
their occupations by the single burner placed in each compartment.
I lay great stress on this, because I am confident that this is
in every way the best illuminant that can be taken for a Polar
winter, and no future expedition should fail to supply themselves
with it.'
As has already been said, the meteorological observations had to
be read and recorded every two hours, and on July 21 Scott gave
in his diary a full and graphic account of the way he occupied
himself during his 'night on.' 'Each of us has his own way of
passing the long, silent hours. My own custom is to devote some
of it to laundry-work, and I must confess I make a very poor
fist of it. However, with a bath full of hot water, I commence
pretty regularly after the ten o'clock observation, and labor
away until my back aches. There is little difficulty with the
handkerchiefs, socks and such-like articles, but when it comes
to thick woolen vests and pajamas, I feel ready to own my
incapacity; one always seems to be soaping and rubbing at the
same place, and one is forced to wonder at the area of stuff
which it takes to cover a comparatively small body. My work is
never finished by midnight, but I generally pretend that it is,
and after taking the observations for that hour, return to wring
everything out. I am astonished to find that even this is no
light task; as one wrings out one end the water seems to fly to
the other; then I hang some heavy garment on a hook and wring
until I can wring no more; but even so, after it has been hung
for a few minutes on the wardroom clothes-line, it will begin
to drip merrily on the floor, and I have to tackle it afresh.
I shall always have a high respect for laundry-work in future,
but I do not think it can often have to cope with such thick
garments as we wear.
'Washing over, one can devote oneself to pleasanter occupations.
The night-watchman is always allowed a box of sardines, which
are scarce enough to be a great luxury, and is provided with
tea or cocoa and a spirit-lamp. Everyone has his own ideas as
to how sardines should be prepared... and I scarcely like to
record that there is a small company of gourmets, who actually
wake one another up in order that the night-watchman may present
his fellow epicures with a small finger of buttered toast, on
which are poised two sardines "done to a turn." The awakened
sleeper devours the dainty morsel, grunts his satisfaction, and
goes placidly off into dreamland again.
'I find that after my labors at the wash-tub and the pleasing
supper that follows, I can safely stretch myself out in a chair
without fear of being overcome by sleep, and so, with the
ever-soothing pipe and one's latest demand on the library
book-shelves, one settles down in great peace and contentment
whilst keeping an eye on the flying hours, ready to sally forth
into the outer darkness at the appointed time.
'The pleasure or pain of that periodic journey is of course entirely
dependent on the weather. On a fine night it may be quite a pleasure,
but when, as is more common, the wind is sweeping past the ship,
the observer is often subjected to exasperating difficulties,
and to conditions when his conscience must be at variance with
his inclination.
'Sometimes the lantern will go out at the screen, and he is forced
to return on board to light it; sometimes it will refuse to shine on
the thin threads of mercury of the thermometer until it is obvious
that his proximity has affected the reading, and he is forced to
stand off until it has again fallen to the air temperature....
These and many other difficulties in taking observations which
may be in themselves valueless are met in the right spirit. I
think we all appreciate that they are part of a greater whole
whose value must stand or fall by attention to detail.'
At the end of July a most unpleasant fact had to be faced in
a mishap to the boats. Early in the winter they had been hoisted
out to give more room for the awning, and had been placed in
a line about a hundred yards from the ice-foot on the sea-ice.
The earliest gale drifted them up nearly gunwale high, and thus
for the next two months they remained in sight. But then another
gale brought more snow, and was so especially generous with it
in the neighborhood of the boats, that they were afterwards found
to be buried three or four feet beneath the surface. With no
feelings of anxiety, but rather to provide occupation, Scott
ordered the snow on the top of them to be removed, and not until
the first boat had been reached was the true state of affairs
revealed. She was found lying in a mass of slushy ice with which
she was nearly filled, and though for a moment there was a wild
hope that she could be pulled up, this soon vanished; for the
air temperature promptly converted the slush into hardened ice,
and so she was stuck fast.
Nothing more could be done at that time to recover the boats,
because as fast as the sodden ice could be dug out, more sea-water
would have come in and frozen. But to try and prevent bad going to
worse before the summer brought hope with it, parties were engaged
day after day in digging away at the snow covering, and in the
course of months many tons must have been removed. The danger was
that fresh gales bringing more snow might have sunk the boats so
far below the surface that they could never be recovered, and
after each gale the diggers were naturally despondent, as to all
appearances they had to begin all over again. The prospect, however,
of having to leave the Antarctic without a single boat in the
ship, and also the feeling that so much labor must tell in the
end, spurred on the diggers to renewed vigor, but it was not
until December that the boats were finally liberated.
Early in August another gale with blinding drift was responsible
for an experience to Bernacchi and Skelton that once again
emphasized the bewildering effect of a blizzard. They were in the
smaller compartment of the main hut completing a set of pendulum
observations, while Royds was in the larger compartment--the
hut was used for many and various purposes--rehearsing his nigger
minstrel troupe. Either because nigger minstrelsy and scientific
work did not go hand in hand, or because their work was finished,
Bernacchi and Skelton, soon after the rehearsal began, left the
hut to return to the ship. Fully an hour and a half afterwards
Royds and his troupe, numbering more than a dozen, started back,
and found that the gale had increased and that the whirling snow
prevented them from seeing anything. Being, however, in such
numbers, they were able to join hands and sweep along until they
caught the guide-rope leading to the gangway; and then as they
traveled along it they heard feeble shouts, and again extending
their line suddenly fell upon Bernacchi and Skelton, who, having
entirely lost their bearings, had been reduced to shouting on
the chance of being heard and rescued.
The hut was scarcely 200 yards from the ship, and the latter
was not only a comparatively big object but was surrounded by
guide-ropes and other means of direction, which if encountered
would have informed the wanderers of their position. Additionally
Bernacchi and Skelton could be trusted to take the most practical
course in any difficulty, and so it seems the more incredible
that they could actually have been lost for two hours. Both of
them were severely frostbitten about the face and legs, but bitter
as their experience was it served as yet another warning to those
who were to go sledding in the spring that no risks could be
taken in such a capricious climate. Had not Royds been rehearsing
his troupe on this occasion the results to Bernacchi and Skelton
must have been more disastrous than they were; consequently the
idea of using the large hut as a place of entertainment was
fortunate in more ways than one.
During the first week of May a concert had been given in the
hut, but this was more or less in the nature of an experiment;
for Royds, who took infinite pains over these entertainments, had
arranged a long program with the object of bringing to light any
possible talent. The result of this was that even the uncritical
had to confess that most of the performers would have been less
out of place among the audience. So much dramatic ability, however,
was shown that Barne was entrusted with the work of producing a
play, which, after many rehearsals conducted with due secrecy,
was produced on June 25.
This play was entitled 'The Ticket of Leave,' 'a screaming comedy
in one act,' and was produced with unqualified success. 'I for
one,' Scott says, 'have to acknowledge that I have rarely been
so gorgeously entertained.'
Later on Royds began to organize his nigger minstrel troupe,
and when the doors of the Royal Terror Theatre opened at 7.30
on August 6, the temperature outside them was -40°, while inside
it was well below zero. Under these conditions it is small wonder
that the audience was glad when the curtain went up. 'There is
no doubt,' Scott says in reference to this performance, 'that
sailors dearly love to make up; on this occasion they had taken
an infinity of trouble to prepare themselves.... "Bones" and
"Skins" had even gone so far as to provide themselves with movable
top-knots which could be worked at effective moments by pulling
a string below.... To-night the choruses and plantation-songs
led by Royds were really well sung, and they repay him for the
very great pains he has taken in the rehearsals.'
So with entertainments to beguile the time, and with blizzards
to endure, and with preparations to make for sledding, the days
passed by until on August 21 the sun was once more due to return.
But on that day a few hours of calm in the morning were succeeded
by whirling snow-squalls from the south, and each lull was followed
by a wild burst of wind. Scott was glad enough to have everyone
on board in such weather, and at noon when he had hoped to be
far over the hills only vast sheets of gleaming snow could be
seen. The following day, however, was an ideal one for the first
view of the long-absent sun, and Scott went to the top of Crater
Hill to watch and welcome. 'Over all the magnificent view the
sunlight spreads with gorgeous effect after its long absence;
a soft pink envelops the western ranges, a brilliant red gold
covers the northern sky; to the north also each crystal of snow
sparkles with reflected light. The sky shows every gradation
of light and shade; little flakes of golden sunlit cloud float
against the pale blue heaven, and seem to hover in the middle
heights, whilst far above them a feathery white cirrus shades
to grey on its unlit sides.'
But when the men were told that the sun could be seen from Hut
Point, to Scott's astonishment they displayed little or no
enthusiasm. Everyone seemed glad to think that it had been punctual
in keeping its appointment, but after all they had seen the sun
a good many times before, and in the next few months they would
in all probability see it a good many times again, and there was
no sense in getting excited about it. Some of them did set off at
a run for the point, while others, since it seemed the right thing
to do, followed at a walk, but a good number remained on board
and had their dinner. On August 25 the Feast of the Sun was duly
celebrated, and the days that followed were fuller than ever with
preparations for the spring journeys. The only sewing-machine
clattered away all day long, and the whole company plied their
needles as if they were being sweated by iron-handed taskmasters.
The long winter was at an end, and everyone, in the best of spirits,
was looking forward eagerly to the spring sledge journeys, and
making garments in which to bid defiance to the wind and the
weather. As regards the actual sledge equipment which was taken
to the south, Scott had depended on the experience of others, and
especially on that of Armitage, but owing to a variety of reasons
the difficulty of providing an efficient sledding outfit had been
immense.
In England twenty-five years had passed since any important sledding
expedition had been accomplished, and during that time not a single
sledge, and very few portions of a sledge equipment, had been made
in the country. The popular accounts of former expeditions were
not written to supply the minute details required, and no memory
could be expected to retain these details after such a lapse of
time. In fact the art of sledge-making was lost in England, but
fortunately the genius of Nansen had transferred it to Norway.
In the autumn of 1900 Scott had visited Christiania, and there
received much advice and assistance from Nansen himself. It was
not, however, until Armitage agreed to serve as second in command
of the expedition that Scott had anyone on whom he could rely
to provide the sledding outfit.
In making these preparations for long journeys in the south,
there was no previous experience to go upon except that which
had been gained in the north; indeed it was necessary to assume
that southern conditions would be more or less similar to those
of the north, and in so far as they proved different the sledding
outfit ran the risk of failure. Experience taught Scott that in
many respects the sledding conditions of the south were different
from those of the north, and so it is only fair to consider the
sledge journeys taken by the Discovery expedition as pioneer
efforts. These differences are both climatic and geographical.
For instance, the conditions in the south are more severe than
those in the north, both in the lowness of the temperatures and
in the distressing frequency of blizzards and strong winds. And
the geographical difference between the work of the northern
and the southern sledge-traveler is as great as the climatic, if
not greater, for the main part of northern traveling has been
and will be done on sea-ice, while the larger part of southern
traveling has been and will be done over land surfaces, or what
in this respect are their equivalents.
[Illustration: Looking up the gateway from Pony Depôt.]
So impressed was Scott by the impossibility of dragging a sledge
over the surfaces of the Great Barrier to the South at the rate
maintained by the old English travelers on the northern sea-ice,
that he began seriously to think that the British race of explorers
must have deteriorated rapidly and completely in stamina. But later
on, in carrying out exploration to the west, he had to travel over
the sea-ice of the strait, and then he discovered that--given the
surface there was nothing wrong with the pace at which his sledge
parties could travel. Probably, however, the distances recorded by
the northern travelers will never be exceeded in the south, for
the Antarctic explorer has to meet severer climatic conditions, and
while pulling his sledge over heavier surfaces he is not likely to
meet with fewer obstacles in his path. To make marching records is
not, of course, the main purpose of sledge-travelers, but all the
same, where conditions are equal, speed and the distance traveled
are a direct test of the efficiency of sledding preparations, and
of the spirit of those who undertake this arduous service.
The main differences between the sledges used by the Discovery
expedition and those used by other explorers were a decrease in
breadth and an increase in runner surface. Measured across from
the center of one runner to the center of the other Scott's
sledges were all, with one exception, 1 foot 5 inches. The runners
themselves were 3-3/4 inches across, so that the sledge track
from side to side measured about 1 foot 8-3/4 inches. The lengths
varied from 12 feet to 7 feet, but the 11-foot sledges proved
to be by far the most convenient--a length of 12 feet seeming
to pass just beyond the limit of handiness.
Taking then 11 feet as about the best length for this type of
sledge, it will be seen that it differed considerably from the
old Arctic type, which was 10 feet long and 3 feet broad. The
weight of such all 11-foot sledge was anything between 40 and
47 lbs., and this was none too light when the full strength of
the structure was required. Generally speaking, the full load
that could be put upon them was about 600 lbs. The most important
part of the sledge is the runner, in which the grain must be
perfectly straight and even, or it will splinter very easily;
but it surprised Scott to find what a lot of wear a good wood
runner would stand, provided that it was only taken over snow.
'Some of our 9-foot sledges must,' he says, 'have traveled 1,000
miles, and there was still plenty of wear left in the runners.'
In point of numbers the Discovery's crew was far behind the old
Northern expeditions; and it was this fact that made Scott decide,
in arranging a sledge equipment where men and not dogs would
do most of the haulage, to divide his parties into the smallest
workable units. The old Northern plan had allowed for parties
of at least eight, who, having a common tent and cooking
arrangements, could not be subdivided. Scott's plan was not
necessarily to limit the number of men in his parties, but to
divide them into units of three, which should be self-contained,
so that whenever it was advisable a unit could be detached from
the main party. Under such a system it is obvious that each unit
must have its own tent, sleeping-bag, cooker, and so on; and
therein lay a disadvantage, as economy of material and weight
can be better carried out with a large unit than with a small
one.
The weights of a party naturally divide themselves under two
headings: the permanent, which will not diminish throughout the
trip, and the consumable, including food, oil, &c. The following
is a list of the permanent weights carried on Scott's journey to
the west, and it will give some idea of the variety of articles,
exclusive of provisions. The party numbered six.
lbs.
2 Sledges with fittings complete 130
Trace 5
2 Cookers, pannikins and spoons 30
2 Primus lamps, filled 10
2 Tents complete 60
2 Spades 9
2 Sleeping-bags with night-gear 100
Sleeping jackets, crampons, spare finnesko 50
[Footnote: Reindeer-fur boots.]
Medical bag 6
3 Ice-axes 8
Bamboos and marks 11.5
Instruments and camera 50
Alpine rope 9
Repair and tool bags, sounding-line, tape,
sledge brakes 15
Ski boots for party 15
Ski for party 60
Total 568.5
Roughly speaking, a man can drag from 200 to 240 lbs., but his
load was rarely above 200 lbs. This for six men gave a total
carrying capacity of 1,200 lbs. and hence about 630 lbs. could
be devoted to provisions.
Again, speaking very roughly, this amount is about six weeks'
food for a party of six, but as such a short period is often
not long enough to satisfy sledge-travelers, they are compelled
to organize means by which their journey can be prolonged. This
can be done in two ways; they may either go out earlier in the
season and lay a depôt at a considerable distance towards their
goal, or they may arrange to receive assistance from a supporting
party, which accompanies them for a certain distance on the road
and helps their advance party to drag a heavier load than they
can accomplish alone.
Both of these plans were adopted by Scott on the more important
journeys, and his parties were able to be absent from the ship
for long periods and to travel long distances.
CHAPTER V
THE START OF THE SOUTHERN JOURNEY
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To its full height...
...Shew us here
That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not.
For there is none so mean or base
That have not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start.
--SHAKESPEARE.
During the later months of the dark season all thoughts had been
turned to the prospects of the spring journeys, and many times
the advantages and disadvantages of dogs for sledding were discussed.
This question of the sacrifice of animal life was one on which
Scott felt strongly from the time he became an explorer to the
end of his life. Argue with himself as he might, the idea was
always repugnant to his nature.
'To say,' he wrote after his first expedition, that dogs do not
greatly increase the radius of action is absurd; to pretend that
they can be worked to this end without pain, suffering, and death,
is equally futile. The question is whether the latter can be
justified by the gain, and I think that logically it may be;
but the introduction of such sordid necessity must and does rob
sledge-traveling of much of its glory. In my mind no journey ever
made with dogs can approach the height of that fine conception
which is realized when a party of men go forth to face hardships,
dangers, and difficulties with their own unaided efforts, and
by days and weeks of hard physical labor succeed in solving some
problem of the great unknown. Surely in this case the conquest
is more nobly and splendidly won.'
When the spring campaign opened in 1902 the original team of
dogs had been sadly diminished. Of the nineteen that remained
for the southern journey, all but one--and he was killed at an
earlier period--left their bones on the great southern plains.
This briefly is the history of the dogs, but the circumstances
under which they met their deaths will be mentioned later on.
[Illustration: Sledding.]
Before Scott started on the southern journey he decided to make
a short trip to the north with the dogs and a party of six officers
and men, his main purposes being to test the various forms of
harness, and to find out whether the dogs pulled best in large
or small teams. During part of this journey, which only lasted
from September 2 to 5, the four sledges were taken independently
with four dogs harnessed to each, and it was discovered that if
the first team got away all right, the others were often keen to
play the game of 'follow my leader.' Sometimes, indeed, there was
a positive spirit of rivalry, and on one occasion two competing
teams got closer and closer to each other, with the natural result
that when they were near enough to see what was happening, they
decided that the easiest way to settle the matter was by a free
fight. So they turned inwards with one accord and met with a
mighty shock. In a moment there was a writhing mass of fur and
teeth, and an almost hopeless confusion of dog traces. But even
in this short trip some experience had been gained; for results
showed how unwise it was to divide the dogs into small parties,
and also there was no mistaking which were the strong and which
the weak dogs, and, what was of more importance, which the willing
and which the lazy ones.
On September 10, Royds and Koettlitz started off to the south-west
with Evans, Quartley, Lashly and Wild. And of this party Scott
wrote: 'They looked very workmanlike, and one could see at a
glance the vast improvement that has been made since last year.
The sledges were uniformly packed.... One shudders now to think
of the slovenly manner in which we conducted things last autumn;
at any rate here is a first result of the care and attention
of the winter.'
Armitage and Ferrar with four men left for the west on the following
day, but owing to the necessity of making fresh harness for the
dogs and to an exasperating blizzard, Scott was not able to start
on his southern reconnaissance journey until September 17.
On the morning of that day he and his two companions, Barne and
Shackleton, with thirteen dogs divided into two teams, left the
ship in bright sunshine; but by 1.15 P.M., when they camped for
lunch, the wind was blowing from the east and the thermometer
was down to -43°.
The sledges carried a fortnight's food for all concerned, together
with a quantity of stores to form a depôt, the whole giving a
load of about 90 lbs. per dog; but this journey was destined to
be only a short and bitter experience.
The reason was that on the night of the 17th the travelers were
so exhausted that they did not heap enough snow on the skirting
of the tent, and when Scott woke up on the following morning he
found himself in the open. 'At first, as I lifted the flap of
my sleeping-bag, I could not think what had happened. I gazed
forth on a white sheet of drifting snow, with no sign of the tent
or my companions. For a moment I wondered what in the world it
could mean, but the lashing of the snow in my face very quickly
awoke me to full consciousness, and I sat up to find that in
some extraordinary way I had rolled out of the tent.'
At the time a violent gale was raging, and through the blinding
snow Scott could only just see the tent, though it was flapping
across the foot of his bag; but when he had wriggled back to
the tent the snow was whirling as freely inside as without, and
the tent itself was straining so madly at what remained of its
securing, that something had to be done at once to prevent it
from blowing away altogether.
So with freezing fingers they gripped the skirting and gradually
pulled it inwards, and half sitting upon it, half grasping it,
they tried to hold it against the wild blasts of the storm, while
they discussed the situation. Discussion, however, was useless. An
attempt to secure the tent properly in such weather was impossible,
while they felt that if once they loosed their grip, the tent would
hasten to leave them at once and for ever. Every now and then
they were forced to get a fresh hold, and lever themselves once
more over the skirt. And as they remained hour after hour grimly
hanging on and warning each other of frostbitten features, their
sleeping-bags became fuller and fuller of snow, until they were
lying in masses of chilly slush. Not until 6 P.M. had they by
ceaseless exertions so far become masters of the situation, that
there was no further need for the tent to be held with anything
except the weight of their sleeping-bags. Then an inspection of
hands showed a number of frostbites, but Barne, whose fingers had
not recovered from the previous year, had suffered the most. 'To
have hung on to the tent through all those hours must have been
positive agony to him, yet he never uttered a word of complaint.'
By 10 P.M. the worst of the storm had passed, and after a few
hours' sleep and a hot meal, they soon decided that to push on
after this most miserable experience was very unwise, since by
returning to the ship they would only lose one day's march and
everything could be dried for a fresh start.
Apart from 'Brownie,' who spent his time inside the tent, the
rest of the dogs never uttered a sound during the storm, and
were found quite happily sleeping in their nests of snow. On
the journey back the thermometer recorded -53°, and the effect
of such a temperature upon wet clothing may be imagined. 'I shall
remember the condition of my trousers for a long while; they
might have been cut out of sheet iron. It was some time before I
could walk with any sort of ease, and even when we reached the
ship I was conscious of carrying an armor plate behind me....
It will certainly be a very long time before I go to sleep again
in a tent which is not properly secured.'
On September 24 Scott was ready to start again, but Barne's fingers
had suffered so severely that his place was taken by the boatswain,
Feather, who had taken a keen interest in every detail of sledding.
Owing to the dogs refusing to do what was expected of them, and
to gales, slow progress was made, but the wind had dropped by the
morning of September 29, and Scott was so anxious to push on that
he took no notice of a fresh bank of cloud coming up from the
south, with more wind and drift. Taking the lead himself, he gave
orders to the two teams to follow rigidly in his wake, whatever
turns and twists he might make. Notwithstanding the bad light
he could see the bridged crevasses, where they ran across the
bare ice surface, by slight differences in shade, and though he
could not see them where they dived into the valleys, he found
that the bridges were strong enough to bear. In his desire to use
the snowy patches as far as possible, the course he took was very
irregular, and the dogs invariably tried to cut corners. In this
manner they proceeded for some time, until Scott suddenly heard
a shout, and looking back saw to his horror that Feather had
vanished. The dog team and sledges were there all right, but their
leader was lost to sight. Hurrying back he found that the trace
had disappeared down a formidable crevasse, but to his great
relief Feather was at the end of the trace, and was soon hauled
up. One strand of Feather's harness was cut clean through where
it fell across the ice-edge, and although, being a man of few
words, he was more inclined to swear at 'Nigger' for trying to
cut a corner than to marvel at his own escape, there is no doubt
that he had a very close call.
After this accident the dog teams were joined, and reluctant
to give up they advanced again; but very soon the last of the
four sledges disappeared, and was found hanging vertically up
and down in an ugly-looking chasm. To the credit of the packing
not a single thing had come off, in spite of the jerk with which
it had fallen. It was, however, too heavy to haul up as it was,
but, after some consultation, the indefatigable Feather proposed
that he should be let down and undertake the very cold job of
unpacking it. So he was slung with one end of the Alpine rope,
while the other was used for hauling up the various packages;
and at last the load was got up, and the lightened sledge soon
followed. After this incident they thought it prudent to treat
these numerous crevasses with more respect, and on proceeding
they roped themselves together; but although no more mishaps
occurred, Scott afterwards was more inclined to attribute this
to good luck than to good judgment. 'Looking back on this day, I
cannot but think our procedure was extremely rash. I have not the
least doubt now that this region was a very dangerous one, and
the fact that we essayed to cross it in this light-hearted fashion
can only be ascribed to our ignorance. With us, I am afraid, there
were not a few occasions when one might have applied the proverb
that "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread."'
The depôt, leaving six weeks' provision for three men and 150 lbs.
of dog-food, was made on the morning of October 1, and besides
marking it with a large black flag, Scott was also careful to
take angles with a prismatic compass to all the points he could
see. Then they started home, and the dogs knowing at once what
was meant no longer required any driving. On the homeward march
the travelers went for all they were worth, and in spite of
perpetual fog covered eighty-five statute miles in less than
three days.
On returning to the ship Scott admits that he found it a most
delightful place. The sense of having done what he wanted to
do had something to do with this feeling of satisfaction, but
it was the actual physical comfort after days of privation that
chiefly affected him. The joy of possessing the sledding appetite
was sheer delight, and for many days after the travelers returned
from their sledding-trips, they retained a hunger which it seemed
impossible to satisfy.
In short Scott, on the night of his return, was very pleased with
himself and the world in general, but before he went to bed all
his sense of comfort and peace had gone. For he had discovered
what Armitage, wishing to give him some hours of unmixed enjoyment,
had not meant to mention until the following morning, and this
was that there had been an outbreak of scurvy--the disease that
has played a particularly important, and often a tragic, part
in the adventures of Polar travelers, and the seriousness of
which everyone who has read the history of Polar explorations
cannot fail to realize.
This outbreak had occurred during Armitage's journey, and when
he, after much anxiety, had got his men back to the ship, Wilson's
medical examination proved that Ferrar, Heald and Cross were all
attacked, while the remainder of the party were not above suspicion.
Very soon, however, symptoms of the disease began to abate, but
the danger lurking around them was continually in Scott's thoughts,
and he was determined not to give the dreaded enemy another chance
to break out.
Everything possible was done to make the ship and everything
in her sweet and clean, and after a large seal-killing party,
sent out at Wilson's suggestion, had returned, the order was
given that no tinned meat of any description should be issued.
By October 20 this grave disease had to all intents and purposes
passed away, but although evidence showed that it was caused by
tinned meats which were to all appearances of the best quality,
and by apparently fresh mutton taken in small quantities, there
was no positive proof that these were the causes of the trouble.
This attack of scurvy came as a great surprise to everyone, for
when the long winter was over and all of them were in good health
and high spirits, they had naturally congratulated themselves on
the effectiveness of their precautions. The awakening from this
pleasant frame of mind was rude, and though the disease vanished
with astonishing rapidity, it was--quite apart from the benefit
lost to medical science--very annoying not to be able to say
definitely from what the evil had sprung.
But although the seriousness of this outbreak was not underrated,
and every precaution was taken to prevent its recurrence,
preparations for the various journeys were pushed on with no
less vigor and enthusiasm. The game to play was that there was
nothing really to be alarmed about, and everyone played it with
the greatest success.
Scott's journey to the south had indicated that the main party
would have to travel directly over the snow-plain at a long distance
from, and perhaps out of sight of, land; and as in all probability
no further depôts could be established, it was desirable that this
party should be supported as far as possible on their route. To
meet these requirements it was decided that Barne, with a party of
twelve men, should accompany the dog-team, until the weights were
reduced to an amount which the dogs could drag without assistance.
Then Barne was to return to the ship, and after a short rest start
again with six men, to follow the coast-line west of the Bluff.
As soon as this was in train, Armitage was to have at his disposal
all the men and material left in the ship for his attack on the
western region.
On Friday, October 24, Royds, who had left the ship three weeks
before with Skelton, Lashly, Evans, Quartley and Wild, returned
with the good news that he had been able to communicate with the
'Record' post at Cape Crozier. If a relief ship was going to be
sent out, Scott now had the satisfaction of knowing that she had
a good prospect of being guided to the winter quarters of the
expedition. It was also a great source of satisfaction to find
that although Royds and his party had left almost immediately
after the outbreak of scurvy, they had all returned safe and
with no symptom of the disease.
From the 13th to the 18th this party had been kept in their tents
by a most persistent blizzard, and before the blizzard ceased
they were practically buried in the heart of a snowdrift; in
fact one tent had literally to be dug out before its occupants
could be got into the open, while the sledges and everything left
outside were completely buried. As the snow gradually accumulated
round the tents it became heavier and heavier on every fold of
canvas, and reduced the interior space to such an extent that
those inside were obliged to lie with their knees bent double.
Royds, whose reports were invariably very brief and to the point,
dismissed the tale of these five days in half a page, but no
great effort of imagination is needed to grasp the horrible
discomforts everyone must have endured. And yet when this party
recounted their adventures on board the ship, the hardships were
scarcely mentioned, and all that the men seemed to remember were
the amusing incidents that had happened.
On this journey a colony of Emperor penguins was discovered, and
among them were several which were nursing chicks. 'I will only
testify,' Scott says, 'to the joy which greeted this discovery
on board the ship. We had felt that this penguin was the truest
type of our region. All other birds fled north when the severity
of winter descended upon us: the Emperor alone was prepared to
face the extremest rigors of our climate; and we gathered no
small satisfaction from being the first to throw light on the
habits of a creature, which so far surpasses in hardihood all
others of the feathered tribe.'
Before the end of October everything was prepared for the southern
journey; every eventuality seemed to be provided for, and as it
was expected that the dogs would travel faster than the men Barne
and his party started off on October 30, while the dog team left
a few days later. 'The supporting party started this morning,
amidst a scene of much enthusiasm; all hands had a day off, and
employed it in helping to drag the sledges for several miles...
Barne's banner floated on the first, the next bore a Union Jack,
and another carried a flag with a large device stating "No dogs
needs apply"; the reference was obvious. It was an inspiriting
sight to see nearly the whole of our small company step out on
the march with ringing cheers, and to think that all work of this
kind promised to be done as heartily.'
And then the day that Scott had been so eagerly looking forward
to arrived, and at ten o'clock on the morning of November 2, he,
Shackleton and Wilson, amidst the wild cheers of their comrades,
started on the southern journey. 'Every soul was gathered on
the floe to bid us farewell, and many were prepared to accompany
us for the first few miles.' The dogs, as if knowing that a great
effort was expected of them, had never been in such form, and in
spite of the heavy load and the fact that at first two men had
to sit on the sledges to check them, it was as much as the rest
of the party could do to keep up. By noon the volunteers had all
tailed off, and the three travelers were alone with the dogs, and
still breathlessly trying to keep pace with them. Soon afterwards
they caught sight of a dark spot ahead and later on made this out
to be the supporting party, who, when they were overtaken on the
same evening, reported that they had been kept in their tents by
bad weather. Having relieved them of some of their loads, Scott
camped, while they pushed on to get the advantage of a night march.
During the next few days the two parties constantly passed and
re-passed each other, since it was impossible for Scott to push
on ahead of Barne's party, and the latter's progress was very
slow, as they could get no hold with their fur boots, and they
found their ski leather boots dreadfully cold for their feet. To
add to the slowness of the journey the weather was very unfavorable,
and the greater parts of the 8th and 9th were entirely wasted by a
blizzard. On the 10th Depôt A, that had previously been laid, was
reached and Scott wrote: 'Already it seems to me that the dogs feel
the monotony of a long march over the snow more than we do; they
seem easily to get dispirited, and that it is not due to fatigue
is shown when they catch a glimpse of anything novel.... To-day,
for instance, they required some driving until they caught sight
of the depôt flag, when they gave tongue loudly and dashed off as
though they barely felt the load behind them.'
The names of the dogs were:
Nigger Birdie Wolf
Jim Nell Vic
Spud Blanco Bismarck
Snatcher Grannie Kid
Fitzclarence Lewis Boss
Stripes Gus Brownie
Joe
Each of them had his peculiar characteristics, and what the Southern
party did not already know concerning their individualities, they had
ample opportunities of finding out in the course of the next few weeks.
Nigger was the leader of the team; a place he chose naturally
for himself, and if he was put into any other position he behaved
so unpleasantly to his neighbors, and so generally upset things,
that he was quickly shifted. A more perfect sledge-dog could
scarcely be imagined. He seemed to know the meaning of every move,
and in camp would be still as a graven image until he saw the snow
being shoveled from the skirting of the tent, when he would spring
up and pace to and fro at his picket, and give a low throaty bark
of welcome if anyone approached him. A few minutes later, when
the leading man came to uproot his picket, he would watch every
movement, and a slow wagging of the tail quite obviously showed
his approval: then, as the word came to start, he would push
affectionately against the leader, as much as to say, 'Now come
along!' and brace his powerful chest to the harness. At the
evening halt after a long day he would drop straight in his tracks
and remain perfectly still, with his magnificent black head resting
on his paws. Other dogs might clamor for food, but Nigger knew
perfectly well that the tent had first to be put up. Afterwards,
however, when the dog-food was approached his deep bell-like note
could always be distinguished amid the howling chorus, and if
disturbance was to be avoided it was well to attend to him first
of all.
Of the other dogs Lewis was noisily affectionate and hopelessly
clumsy; Jim could pull splendidly when he chose, but he was up
to all the tricks of the trade and was extraordinarily cunning at
pretending to pull; Spud was generally considered to be daft;
Birdie evidently had been treated badly in his youth and remained
distrustful and suspicious to the end; Kid was the most
indefatigable worker in the team; Wolf's character possessed no
redeeming point of any kind, while Brownie though a little too
genteel for very hard work was charming as a pet, and it may also
be said of him that he never lost an opportunity of using his
pleasant appearance and delightful ways to lighten his afflictions.
The load for this dog team after Depôt A had been passed was 1,850
lbs., which, considering that some of the dogs were of little
use, was heavy. But it must not be forgotten that the men also
expected to pull, and that each night the weight would be reduced
by thirty or forty pounds. By the 13th the travelers were nearly
up to the 79th parallel, and therefore farther south than anyone
had yet been. 'The announcement of the fact caused great jubilation,
and I am extremely glad that there are no fewer than fifteen
of us to enjoy this privilege of having broken the record.' A
photograph of the record-breakers was taken, and then half of the
supporting party started to return, and the other half stepped
out once more on a due south line, with the dogs following.
By the 15th, however, when the rest of the supporting party turned
back, Scott had begun to be anxious about the dogs. 'The day's
work has cast a shadow on our high aspirations, and already it is
evident that if we are to achieve much it will be only by extreme
toil, for the dogs have not pulled well to-day.... We have decided
that if things have not improved in the morning we will take on
half a load at a time; after a few days of this sort of thing the
loads will be sufficiently lightened for us to continue in the old
way again.'
On the following day an attempt to start with the heavy loads
promptly and completely failed, and the only thing to do was to
divide the load into two portions and take half on at a time. This
meant, of course, that each mile had to be traveled three times,
but there was no alternative to this tedious form of advance.
Even, however, with the half-loads the dogs seemed to have lost
all their spirit, and at the end of the march on the 18th they
were practically 'done.' Only five geographical miles [Footnote:
7 geographical miles = a little more than 8 statute miles.] were
gained on that day, but to do it they had to cover fifteen.
On the night of the 19th matters had gone from bad to worse,
and it had to be acknowledged that the fish diet the dogs were
eating permanently disagreed with them. Originally Scott had
intended to take ordinary dog-biscuits for the animals, but in
an unlucky moment he was persuaded by an expert in dog-driving
to take fish. The fish taken was the Norwegian stock-fish, such
as is split, dried and exported from that country in great
quantities for human food. But one important point was overlooked,
namely the probability of the fish being affected on passing
through the tropics. The lesson, Scott said, was obvious, that
in future travelers in the south should safeguard their dogs
as carefully as they do their men, for in this case it was the
dogs that called the halts; and so the party had to spend hours
in their tent which might have been devoted to marching.
Day after day relay work continued, the only relief from the
monotony of their toil being that land was sighted on the 21st,
and as the prospects of reaching a high latitude were steadily
disappearing, it was decided to alter their course to S. S. W. and
edge towards it. Then the surface over which they were traveling
showed signs of improvement, but the travelers themselves were
beginning to suffer from blistered noses and cracked lips, and
their eyes were also troubling them. Appetites, however, were
increasing by leaps and bounds. 'The only thing to be looked
to on our long marches is the prospect of the next meal.'
On November 24 a new routine was started which made a little
variation in the dull toil of relay work. After pushing on the
first half-load one of the three stopped with it, and got up
the tent and prepared the meal while the other two brought up
the second half-load. And then on the following day came one
of those rewards which was all the sweeter because it had been
gained by ceaseless and very monotonous toil.
'Before starting to-day I took a meridian altitude,' Scott wrote,
'and to my delight found the latitude to be 80° 1'. All our charts
of the Antarctic region show a plain white circle beyond the
eightieth parallel... It has always been our ambition to get
inside that white space, and now we are there the space can no
longer be a blank; this compensates for a lot of trouble.'
A blizzard followed upon this success, but the dogs were so
exhausted that a day's rest had been thought of even if the weather
had not compelled it. Wilson, to his great discomfort, was always
able to foretell these storms, for when they were coming on he
invariably suffered from rheumatism; so, however reluctant, he
could not help being a very effective barometer.
After the storm had passed an attempt was made on the morning
of the 27th to start with the full load, but it took next to no
time to discover that the dogs had not benefited by their rest,
and there was nothing to do except to go on with the old routine
of relay work. As the days passed with no signs of improvement
in the dogs, it became more and more necessary to reach the land
in hopes of making a depôt; so the course was laid to the westward
of S. W., which brought the high black headland, for which they
were making, on their port bow. 'I imagine it to be about fifty
miles off, but hope it is not so much; nine hours' work to-day
has only given us a bare four miles.'
Then for some days the only change in the toil of relay work
and the sickening task of driving tired dogs on and on was that
they marched by night, and rested by day. The breakfast hour was
between 4 and 5 P.M., the start at 6 P.M., and they came to camp
somewhere between three and four in the morning. Thus they rested
while the sun was at its greatest height; but although there were
certainly advantages in this, Scott could not get rid of a curious
feeling that something was amiss with such a topsy-turvy method of
procedure.
By December 3 they were close enough to the land to make out
some of its details. On their right was a magnificent range of
mountains, which by rough calculations Scott made out to be at
least fifty miles away. By far the nearest point of land was
an isolated snow-cape, an immense, and almost dome-shaped,
snow-covered mass. At first no rock at all could be seen on it,
but as they got nearer a few patches began to appear. For one
of these patches they decided to make so that they might establish
a depôt, but at the rate at which they were traveling there was
little hope of reaching it for several days.
By this time the appetites of the party were so ravenous that
when the pemmican bag was slung alongside a tin of paraffin,
and both smelt and tasted of oil, they did not really mind. But
what saddened them more than this taste of paraffin was the
discovery, on December 5, that their oil was going too fast.
A gallon was to have lasted twelve days, but on investigation
it was found on an average to have lasted only ten, which meant
that in the future each gallon would have to last a fortnight.
'This is a distinct blow, as we shall have to sacrifice our hot
luncheon meal and to economize greatly at both the others. We
started the new routine to-night, and for lunch ate some frozen
seal-meat and our allowance of sugar and biscuit.'
It was perhaps fortunate that their discovery about the oil was
not delayed any longer, but nevertheless it came at a time when
the outlook was dreary and dispiriting enough without additional
discomforts. On the 6th Spud gnawed through his trace, and when
Scott went outside before breakfast, one glance at the dog's
balloon-like appearance was enough to show how he had spent his
hours of freedom. He had, in fact, eaten quite a week's allowance
of the precious seal-meat, and though rather somnolent after his
gorge, he did not seem to be suffering any particular discomfort
from the enormous increase of his waist. On the next day there was
a blizzard, duly predicted by Wilson's twinges of rheumatism, and
on the 8th Scott reluctantly records that the dogs were steadily
going downhill. 'The lightening of the load is more than
counter-balanced by the weakening of the animals, and I can see
no time in which we can hope to get the sledges along without
pulling ourselves.'
By the 10th they were within ten or twelve miles of the coast,
but so exhausted that they felt no certainty of reaching it; and
even supposing they did get there and make a depôt, they doubted
very much if they would be in any condition to go on. One dog,
Snatcher, was already dead, and some of the others had only been
got to move with the second load by the ignominious device of
carrying food in front of them. To see the dogs suffering was
agony to those who had to drive and coax them on, and though
Scott refers often in these days to the hunger that was nipping
him, no one can read his diary without seeing how infinitely
more he was concerned over the suffering of the dogs than about
his own troubles. 'It is terrible,' he says, 'to see them.'
At last, on December 14, they arrived, when they were almost
spent, at a place where dog-food could be left. In their march
they had only managed to do two miles after the most strenuous
exertions, for the snow became softer as they approached the
land, and the sledge-runners sank from three to four inches.
On any particularly soft patch they could do little more than
mark time, and even to advance a yard was an achievement.
No wonder that Scott, after they had left three weeks' provisions
and a quantity of dog-food in Depôt B and had resumed their march,
sounded a note of thankfulness: 'As I write I scarcely know how
to describe the blessed relief it is to be free from our relay
work. For one-and-thirty awful days we have been at it, and whilst
I doubt if our human endurance could have stood it much more,
I am quite sure the dogs could not. It seems now like a nightmare,
which grew more terrible towards its end.' The sense of relief
was, however, not destined to last, for on December 21 the dogs
were in such a hopeless condition that they might at any moment
have completely collapsed. This was a fact that had to be faced,
and the question whether under such circumstances it was wise
to push on had to be asked and answered. The unanimous answer
was that the risk of going on should be taken, but on that same
night Wilson, in view of future plans, reported to Scott that
his medical examinations revealed that Shackleton had decidedly
angry-looking gums, and that for some time they had been slowly
but surely getting worse. It was decided not to tell Shackleton
of these symptoms of scurvy, and as the bacon they were using
seemed likely to be the cause of them, it was discarded and an
increased allowance of seal given in its place. This was a loss
in weight which was serious, for already they were reduced almost
to starvation rations of about a pound and a half a day.
Supper was the best meal, for then they had a hoosh which ran
from between three-quarters to a whole pannikin apiece, but even
this they could not afford to make thick. While it was being
heated in the central cooker, cocoa was made in the outer, but
the lamp was turned out directly the hoosh boiled, and by that
time the chill was barely off the contents of the outer cooker.
Of course the cocoa was not properly dissolved, but they were
long past criticizing the quality of their food. All they wanted
was something to 'fill up,' but needless to say they never got
it. Half an hour after supper was over they were as hungry as ever.
When they had started from the ship, there had been a vague idea
that they could go as they pleased with the food, but experience
showed that this would not do, and that there must be a rigid
system of shares. Consequently they used to take it in turn to
divide things into three equal portions, and as the man who made
the division felt called upon to take the smallest share, the
game of 'shut-eye' was invented to stop all arguments and
remonstrances. The shares were divided as equally as possible
by someone, then one of the other two turned his head away and
the divider pointed to a portion and said, 'Whose is this?' He
of the averted head named the owner, and thus this simple but
useful game was played.
Wilson's examination of Shackleton on December 24 was not
encouraging, but they had reached a much harder surface and under
those conditions Scott and Wilson agreed that it was not yet
time to say 'Turn.' Besides, Christmas Day was in front of them,
and for a week they had all agreed that it would be a crime to
go to bed hungry on that night. In fact they meant it to be a
wonderful day, and everything conspired to make it so.
The sun shone gloriously from a clear sky, and not a breath of
wind disturbed the calmness of the morning, but entrancing as
the scene was they did not stay to contemplate it, because for
once they were going to have a really substantial breakfast,
and this was an irresistible counter-attraction.
And afterwards, when they felt more internally comfortable than
they had for weeks, the surface continued to be so much better
that the sledges could be pulled without any help from the dogs.
On that day they had the satisfaction of covering nearly eleven
miles, the longest march they had made for a long time. So when
camp was pitched they were thoroughly pleased with the day, and
ready to finish it off with a supper to be remembered. A double
'whack' of everything was poured into the cooking-pot, and in
the hoosh that followed a spoon would stand without any support,
and the cocoa was also brought to boiling-point.
'I am writing,' Scott says, 'over my second pipe. The sun is
still circling our small tent in a cloudless sky, the air is
warm and quiet. All is pleasant without, and within we have a
sense of comfort we have not known for many a day; we shall sleep
well tonight--no dreams, no tightening of the belt.
'We have been chattering away gaily, and not once has the
conversation turned to food. We have been wondering what Christmas
is like in England... and how our friends picture us. They will
guess that we are away on our sledge journey, and will perhaps
think of us on plains of snow; but few, I think, will imagine the
truth, that for us this has been the reddest of all red-letter days.'
CHAPTER VI
THE RETURN
How many weary steps
Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
Are numbered to the travel of one mile.
--SHAKESPEARE.
Some days passed before the pleasing effects of Christmas Day
wore off, for it had been a delightful break in an otherwise
uninterrupted spell of semi-starvation, and the memories lingered
long after hunger had again gripped the three travelers. By this
time they knew that they had cut themselves too short in the
matter of food, but the only possible alteration that could now
be made in their arrangements was to curtail their journey, and
rather than do that they were ready cheerfully to face the distress
of having an enormous appetite, and very little with which to
appease it.
Thinking over the homeward marches after he had returned to the
ship, Scott expresses his emphatic opinion that the increasing
weariness showed that they were expending their energies at a
greater rate than they could renew them, and that the additional
weight, caused by carrying a proper allowance of food, would
have been amply repaid by the preservation of their full strength
and vigor.
Apart, however, from the actual pangs of hunger, there was another
disadvantage from this lack of food, for try as they would it
was impossible not to think and talk incessantly of eating. Before
they went to sleep it was almost certain that one of them would
give a detailed description of what he considered an ideal feast,
while on the march they found themselves counting how many footsteps
went to the minute, and how many, therefore, had to be paced
before another meal.
But if, during these days of hunger, thoughts of what they could
eat if only the chance was given to them kept constantly cropping
up, there were also very real compensations for both their mental
and physical weariness. Day by day, as they journeyed on, they
knew that they were penetrating farther and farther into the
unknown. Each footstep was a gain, and made the result of their
labors more assured. And as they studied the slowly revolving
sledge-meter or looked for the calculated results of their
observations, it is not surprising that above all the desires
for food was an irresistible eagerness to go on and on, and to
extend the line which they were now drawing on the white space
of the Antarctic chart.
Day by day, too, the magnificent panorama of the Western land
was passing before their eyes. 'Rarely a march passed without
the disclosure of some new feature, something on which the eye
of man had never rested; we should have been poor souls indeed
had we not been elated at the privilege of being the first to
gaze on these splendid scenes.'
From the point of view of further exploration their position
on December 26 was not very hopeful. On their right lay a high
undulating snow-cap and the steep irregular coast-line, to the
south lay a cape beyond which they could not hope to pass, and
to all appearances these conditions were likely to remain to
the end of their journey. But on that night they had christened
a distant and lofty peak 'Mount Longstaff,' in honor of the man
whose generosity had alone made the expedition possible, and
although they thought that this was the most southerly land to
which they would be able to give a name, they were in no mood
to turn back because the outlook was unpromising. Arguing on
the principle that it was impossible to tell what may turn up,
they all decided to push on; and their decision was wise, for
had they returned at that point one of the most important features
of the whole coast-line would have been missed.
On the 26th and 27th Wilson had a very bad attack of snow-blindness,
which caused him the most intense agony. Some days before Scott
had remarked in his diary upon Wilson's extraordinary industry:
'When it is fine and clear, at the end of our fatiguing days
he will spend two or three hours seated in the door of the tent
sketching each detail of the splendid mountainous coast-scene
to the west. His sketches are most astonishingly accurate; I
have tested his proportions by actual angular measurements and
found them correct.... But these long hours in the glare are
very bad for the eyes; we have all suffered a good deal from
snow-blindness of late, though we generally march with goggles,
but Wilson gets the worst bouts, and I fear it is mainly due
to his sketching.'
The attack, however, after Christmas was very much worse than
anything that had gone before, and all day long during the 27th
Wilson was pulling alongside the sledges with his eyes completely
covered. To march blindfold with an empty stomach must touch
the bottom of miserable monotony, but Wilson had not the smallest
intention of giving in. With Scott walking opposite to him and
telling him of the changes that were happening around them he
plodded steadily on, and during the afternoon of the 27th it
happened that a most glorious mountainous scene gradually revealed
itself. With some excitement Scott noticed that new mountain
ridges were appearing as high as anything they had seen to the
north, and his excitement increased when these ridges grew higher
and higher. Then, instead of a downward turn in the distant outline
came a steep upward line, and as they pressed on apace to see
what would happen next, Scott did his best to keep Wilson posted
up in the latest details. The end came in a gloriously sharp
double peak crowned with a few flecks of cirrus cloud, and all
they could think of in camp that night was this splendid twin-peaked
mountain, which even in such a lofty country looked like a giant
among pigmies. 'At last we have found something which is fitting
to bear the name of him whom we must always the most delight
to honor, and "Mount Markham" it shall be called in memory of
the father of the expedition.'
Wilson, in spite of his recent experiences, did not mean to miss
this, and however much his eyes had to suffer the scene had to
be sketched. Fortunately a glorious evening provided a perfect
view of their surroundings, for very soon they knew that the
limit of their journey would be reached, and that they would
have but few more opportunities to increase their stock of
information.
After a day that had brought with it both fine weather and most
interesting discoveries, they settled down in their sleeping-bags,
full of hope that the morrow would be equally kind. But instead
of the proposed advance the whole day had to be spent in the
tent while a strong southerly blizzard raged without, and when
they got up on the following morning they found themselves enveloped
in a thick fog.
Reluctantly the decision was made that this camp must be their
last, and consequently their southerly limit had been reached.
Observations gave it as between 82.16 S. and 82.17 S., and though
this record may have compared poorly with what Scott had hoped
for when leaving the ship, it was far more favorable than he
anticipated when the dogs had begun to fail. 'Whilst,' he says,
'one cannot help a deep sense of disappointment in reflecting
on the "might have been" had our team remained in good health,
one cannot but remember that even as it is we have made a greater
advance towards a pole of the earth than has ever yet been achieved
by a sledge party.'
With less than a fortnight's provision to take them back to Depôt
B, they turned their faces homewards on the last day of the year,
and it was significant of the terrible condition of the surviving
dogs that the turn did not cause the smallest excitement. Many
of them were already dead, killed to keep the others alive, but
those which remained seemed to guess how poor a chance they had
of getting back to the ship. Again and again Scott refers to
the suffering of the dogs on the homeward march, and how intensely
he felt for them is proved beyond all manner of doubt. 'January
3. This afternoon, shortly after starting, "Gus" fell, quite
played out, and just before our halt, to our greater grief, "Kid"
caved in. One could almost weep over this last case; he has pulled
like a Trojan throughout, and his stout little heart bore him
up till his legs failed beneath him.' Only seven of the team
now remained, and of them Jim seemed to be the strongest, but
Nigger, though weak, was still capable of surprising efforts. But
at the end of a week on the return journey, all of the remaining
dogs were asked to do nothing except walk by the sledges.
For several hours on January 7 the men pulled steadily and covered
ten good miles. But the distance they succeeded in traveling
was as nothing compared with the relief they felt at no longer
having to drive a worn-out team. In the future no more cheering
and dragging in front would be needed, no more tangled traces
would have to be put straight, and above all there would be no
more whip. So far steady though rather slow progress had been
made, but January 8 brought an unpleasant surprise. Try as they
would the sledge could scarcely be made to move, and after three
hours of the hardest work only a mile and a quarter had been
gained. Sadly they were compelled to admit that the surface had
so completely changed that the only thing to do was to remain
in camp until it improved. But whether it would improve was an
anxious matter, for they had less than a week's provisions and
were at least fifty miles from Depôt B.
The next day, however, saw an improvement in the surface, and
a fairly good march was done. By this time only four dogs were
left, Nigger, Jim, Birdie and Lewis, and poor Nigger was so lost
out of harness that he sometimes got close to the traces and
marched along as if he was still doing his share of the pulling.
But this more or less ordinary day was followed on the 10th by
a march in a blizzard that exhausted Scott and Wilson, and had
even a more serious effect upon Shackleton. With the wind behind
them they had gained many miles, but the march had tired them
out, because instead of the steady pulling to which they were
accustomed they had been compelled sometimes to run, and sometimes
to pull forwards, backwards, sideways, and always with their
senses keenly alert and their muscles strung up for instant action.
On that night Scott in no very cheerful frame of mind wrote:
'We cannot now be far from our depôt, but then we do not exactly
know where we are; there is not many days' food left, and if
this thick weather continues we shall probably not be able to
find it.' And after two more days of bad surface and thick weather
he wrote again: 'There is no doubt we are approaching a very
critical time. The depôt is a very small spot on a very big ocean
of snow; with luck one might see it at a mile and a half or two
miles, and fortune may direct our course within this radius of
it; but, on the other hand, it is impossible not to contemplate
the ease with which such a small spot can be missed.... The annoying
thing is that one good clear sight of the land would solve all
our difficulties.'
At noon on January 13 the outlook was more hopeless than ever.
Three hours' incessant labor had gained only three-quarters of
a mile, and consequently they had to halt though their food-bag
was a mere trifle to lift, and they could have finished all that
remained in it at one sitting and still have been hungry. But
later on Scott caught a glimpse of the sun in the tent, and
tumbled hastily out of his sleeping-bag in the hope of obtaining
a meridional altitude; and after getting the very best result
he could under the very difficult conditions prevailing, he casually
lowered the telescope and swept it round the horizon. Suddenly
a speck seemed to flash by, and a vehement hope as suddenly arose.
Then he brought the telescope slowly back, and there it was again,
and accompanied this time by two smaller specks on either side
of it. Without a shadow of doubt it was the depôt which meant
the means of life to them. 'I sprang up and shouted, "Boys, there's
the depôt." We are not a demonstrative party, but I think we
excused ourselves for the wild cheer that greeted this announcement.'
In five minutes everything was packed on the sledges, but though
the work was as heavy as before the workers were in a very different
mood to tackle it. To reach those distant specks as quickly as
possible was their one desire and all minor troubles were forgotten
as they marched, for before them was the knowledge that they
were going to have the fat hoosh which would once more give them
an internal sense of comfort. In two hours they were at the depôt,
and there they found everything as they had left it.
On that same morning they had stripped off the German silver
from the runners of one of their sledges, and now fortified by
the fat hoosh of their dreams they completed the comparison between
the two sledges, which respectively had metal and wood runners.
Having equalized the weights as much as possible they towed the
sledges round singly, and found that two of them could scarcely
move the metalled sledge as fast as one could drag the other.
Of course they decided to strip the second sledge, and with only
about 130 miles to cover to their next depôt, a full three weeks'
provisions, and the prospect of better traveling on wood runners,
they went to bed feeling that a heavy load of anxiety had been
lifted. The chief cause of worry left was the question of health,
and the result of a thorough medical examination on the morning
of the 14th did nothing to remove this. Shackleton was found
to be very far indeed from well, but although Scott and Wilson
both showed symptoms of scurvy they still felt that, as far as
they were concerned, there was no danger of a breakdown.
On that day they made a fairly good march, but at the end of
it Wilson had to warn Scott that Shackleton's condition was really
alarming. Commenting on this Scott wrote: 'It's a bad case, but
we must make the best of it and trust to its not getting worse;
now that human life is at stake, all other objects must be
sacrificed.... It went to my heart to give the order, but it
had to be done, and the dogs are to be killed in the morning.
'One of the difficulties we foresee with Shackleton, with his
restless, energetic spirit, is to keep him idle in camp, so to-night
I have talked seriously to him. He is not to do any camping work,
but to allow everything to be done for him.... Every effort must
be devoted to keeping him on his legs, and we must trust to luck
to bring him through.'
With the morning of the 15th came the last scene in the tragic
story of the dogs, and poor Nigger and Jim, the only survivors
of that team of nineteen, were taken a short distance from the
camp and killed. 'I think we could all have wept.... Through
our most troublous time we always looked forward to getting some
of our animals home. At first it was to have been nine, then
seven, then five, and at the last we thought that surely we should
be able to bring back these two.'
During the part of the return journey which was now beginning,
they had promised themselves an easier time, but instead of that
it resolved itself into days of grim struggle to save a sick
companion. The weather also added to their troubles, because
it was so overcast that steering was extremely difficult. For
nearly ten consecutive days this gloomy weather continued to
harass them, but on the 20th it cleared as they were on their
march, and on the following day with a brisk southerly breeze
and their sail set they traveled along at a fine rate. The state
of Shackleton's health was still a source of acutest anxiety,
but each march brought safety nearer and nearer, and on the 23rd
Scott was able to write in a much more hopeful spirit. Next day
a glimpse of the Bluff to the north was seen, but this encouraging
sight was accompanied by a new form of surface which made the
pulling very wearisome. An inch or so beneath the soft snow surface
was a thin crust, almost, but not quite, sufficient to bear their
weight. The work of breaking such a surface as this would, Scott
says, have finished Shackleton in no time, but luckily he was
able to go on ski and avoid the jars. 'In spite of our present
disbelief in ski, one is bound to confess that if we get back
safely Shackleton will owe much to the pair he is now using.'
[Illustration: Mount Erebus.]
But in spite of bad surfaces and increasingly heavy work, Scott
and Wilson were determined to leave as little as possible to
chance, and to get their invalid along as quickly as his condition
would allow. Directly breakfast was over Shackleton started off
and got well ahead, while Scott and Wilson packed up camp; and
after lunch the same procedure was adopted. By this means he
was able to take things easily, and though eager to do his share
of the work he was wise enough to see that every precaution taken
was absolutely necessary.
Encouragements in this stern struggle were few and far between,
but when the smoke of Erebus was seen on the 25th, it cheered
them to think that they had seen something that was actually
beyond the ship. Probably it was more than a hundred miles away,
but they had become so accustomed to seeing things at a distance
that they were not in the least astonished by this.
January 26, too, had its consolations, for while plodding on
as usual the travelers suddenly saw a white line ahead, and soon
afterwards discovered that it was a sledge track. There was no
doubt that the track was Barne's on his way back from his survey
work to the west, but it was wonderful what that track told them.
They could see that there had been six men with two sledges,
and that all of the former had been going strong and well on
ski. From the state of the track this party had evidently passed
about four days before on the homeward route, and from the
zig-zagging of the course it was agreed that the weather must
have been thick at the time. Every imprint in the soft snow added
some small fact, and the whole made an excellent detective study.
But the main point was that they knew for certain that Barne
and his party were safe, and this after their own experiences
was a great relief.
Another day and a half of labor brought them to the depôt, and
the land of plenty. 'Directly,' Scott wrote on the 28th, 'our tent
was up we started our search among the snow-heaps with childish
glee. One after another our treasures were brought forth: oil
enough for the most lavish expenditure, biscuit that might have
lasted us for a month, and, finally, a large brown provision-bag
which we knew would contain more than food alone. We have just
opened this provision-bag and feasted our eyes on the contents.
There are two tins of sardines, a large tin of marmalade, soup
squares, pea soup, and many other delights that already make
our mouths water. For each one of us there is some special trifle
which the forethought of our kind people has provided, mine being
an extra packet of tobacco; and last, but not least, there are
a whole heap of folded letters and notes--billets-doux indeed.
I wonder if a mail was ever more acceptable.'
The news, too, was good; Royds, after desperate labor, had succeeded
in rescuing the boats; Blissett had discovered an Emperor penguin's
egg, and his messmates expected him to be knighted. But the meal
itself, though 'pure joy' at first, was not an unqualified success,
for after being accustomed to starvation or semi-starvation rations,
they were in no condition either to resist or to digest any unstinted
meal, and both Scott and Wilson suffered acutely.
On the next morning they awoke to find a heavy blizzard, and
the first thought of pushing on at all hazards was abandoned
when Shackleton was found to be extremely ill. Everything now
depended upon the weather, for should the blizzard continue Scott
doubted if Shackleton would even be well enough to be carried
on the sledge. 'It is a great disappointment; last night we thought
ourselves out of the wood with all our troubles behind us, and
to-night matters seem worse than ever. Luckily Wilson and I are
pretty fit, and we have lots of food.' By great luck the weather
cleared on the morning of the 30th, and as Shackleton after a
very bad night revived a little it was felt that the only chance
was to go on. 'At last he was got away, and we watched him almost
tottering along with frequent painful halts. Re-sorting our
provisions, in half an hour we had packed our camp, set our sail,
and started with the sledges. It was not long before we caught
our invalid, who was so exhausted that we thought it wiser he
should sit on the sledges, where for the remainder of the forenoon,
with the help of our sail, we carried him.'
In Wilson's opinion Shackleton's relapse was mainly due to the
blizzard, but fortune favored them during the last stages of the
struggle homewards, and the glorious weather had a wonderful
effect upon the sick man. By the night of February 2 they were
within ten or twelve miles of their goal, and saw a prospect of
a successful end to their troubles. During the afternoon they
had passed round the corner of White Island, and as they did
so the old familiar outline of the friendly peninsula suddenly
opened up before them. On every side were suggestions of home,
and their joy at seeing the well-known landmarks was increased
by the fact that they were as nearly 'spent as three persons
can well be.'
Shackleton, it is true, had lately shown an improvement, but his
companions placed but little confidence in that, for they knew
how near he had been, and still was, to a total collapse. And
both Scott and Wilson knew also that their scurvy had again been
advancing rapidly, but they scarcely dared to admit either to
themselves or each other how 'done' they were. For many a day
Wilson had suffered from lameness, and each morning had vainly
tried to disguise his limp, but from his set face Scott knew
well enough how much he suffered before the first stiffness wore
off. 'As for myself, for some time I have hurried through the
task of changing my foot-gear in an attempt to forget that my
ankles are considerably swollen. One and all we want rest and
peace, and, all being well, tomorrow, thank Heaven, we shall get
them.'
These are the final words written in Scott's sledge-diary during
this remarkable journey, for on the next morning they packed up
their camp for the last time and set their faces towards Observation
Hill. Brilliant weather still continued, and after plodding on for
some hours two specks appeared, which at first were thought to be
penguins, but presently were seen to be men hurrying towards them.
Early in the morning they had been reported by watchers on the
hills, and Skelton and Bernacchi had hastened out to meet them.
Then the tent was put up, and while cocoa was made they listened
to a ceaseless stream of news, for not only had all the other
travelers returned safe and sound with many a tale to tell, but
the relief ship, the Morning, had also arrived and brought a
whole year's news.
So during their last lunch and during the easy march that followed,
they, gradually heard of the events in the civilized world from
December, 1901, to December, 1902, and these kept their thoughts
busy until they rounded the cape and once more saw their beloved
ship.
Though still held fast in her icy prison the Discovery looked
trim and neat, and to mark the especial nature of the occasion
a brave display of bunting floated gently in the breeze, while
as they approached, the side and the rigging were thronged with
their cheering comrades.
With every want forestalled, and every trouble lifted from their
shoulders by companions vying with one another to attend to them,
no welcome could have been more delightful, and yet at the time
it appeared unreal to their dull senses. 'It seemed too good to
be true that all our anxieties had so completely ended, and that
rest for brain and limb was ours at last.' For ninety-three days
they had plodded over a vast snow-field and slept beneath the
fluttering canvas of a tent; during that time they had covered
960 statute miles; and if the great results hoped for in the
beginning had not been completely achieved, they knew at any
rate that they had striven and endured to the limit of their
powers.
CHAPTER VII
A SECOND WINTER
As cold waters to a thirsty soul,
So is good news from a far country.
--PROVERBS.
In a very short time Scott discovered that the sledding resources
of the ship had been used to their fullest extent during his
absence, and that parties had been going and coming and ever
adding to the collection of knowledge.
On November 2 Royds had gone again to Cape Crozier to see how
the Emperor penguins were faring, and in the meantime such rapid
progress had been made in the preparations for the western party
that November 9, being King Edward's birthday, was proclaimed a
general holiday and given up to the eagerly anticipated athletic
sports.
Of all the events perhaps the keenest interest was shown in the
toboggan race, for which the men entered in pairs. Each couple
had to provide their own toboggan, subject to the rule that no
sledge, or part of a sledge, and no ski should be used. The start
was high up the hillside, and as the time for it approached the
queerest lot of toboggans gradually collected. The greater number
were roughly made from old boxes and cask staves, but something
of a sensation was caused when the canny Scottish carpenter's mate
arrived with a far more pretentious article, though built from
the same material. In secret he had devoted himself to making what
was really a very passable sledge, and when he and his companion
secured themselves to this dark horse, the result of the race
was considered a foregone conclusion. But soon after the start
it was seen that this couple had labored in vain; for although
they shot ahead at first, their speed was so great that they
could not control their machine. In a moment they were rolling
head-over-heels in clouds of snow, and while the hare was thus
amusing itself a tortoise slid past and won the race.
By the end of November everything was ready for the western journey,
and a formidable party set out on the 29th to cross McMurdo Sound
and attack the mainland. In Armitage's own party were Skelton
and ten men, while the supports consisted of Koettlitz, Ferrar,
Dellbridge and six men. Excellent pioneer work was done by Armitage
and his party during their seven weeks' journey. Without a doubt
a practicable road to the interior was discovered and traversed,
and the barrier of mountains that had seemed so formidable an
obstruction from the ship was conquered. It was equally certain
that the party could claim to be the first to set foot on the
interior of Victoria Land but they had been forced to turn back
at an extremely interesting point, and in consequence were unable
to supply very definite information with regard to the ice-cap.
They had, however, fulfilled their main object, and in doing so
had disclosed problems that caused the deepest interest to be
focussed upon the direction in which they had traveled.
Perhaps the most promising circumstance of all was that among
the rock specimens brought back were fragments of quartz-grits.
These, with other observations, showed the strong probability
of the existence of sedimentary deposits which might be reached
and examined, and which alone could serve to reveal the geological
history of this great southern continent. At all hazards Scott
determined that the geologist of the expedition must be given
a chance to explore this most interesting region.
The extensive preparations for the western journey had practically
stripped the ship of sledge equipment, and those who went out on
shorter journeys were obliged to make the best of the little that
remained. This did not, however, balk their energies, and by
resorting to all kinds of shifts and devices they made many useful
expeditions.
While these efforts at exploration were being carried out the
ship was left in the charge of Royds, who employed everyone on
board in the most important task of freeing the boats. Drastic
measures had to be taken before they could be released from their
beds of ice, and with sawing and blasting going on in the unseen
depths, it was not possible that the task could be accomplished
without doing considerable damage. When at length all of them
had been brought to the surface their condition was exceedingly
dilapidated; indeed only two of them were in a condition to float;
but although it was evident that the carpenter would be busy for
many weeks before they would be seaworthy, their reappearance was
a tremendous relief.
Long before his departure to the south, Scott had given instructions
that the Discovery should be prepared for sea by the end of
January. Consequently, after the boats had been freed, there was
still plenty of employment for everybody, since 'preparations for
sea' under such circumstances meant a most prodigious amount of
labor. Tons and tons of snow had to be dug out from the deck with
pick-axes and shoveled over the side; aloft, sails and ropes had
to be looked to, the running-gear to be re-rove, and everything
got ready for handling the ship under sail; many things that
had been displaced or landed near the shore-station had to be
brought on board and secured in position; thirty tons of ice
had to be fetched, melted, and run into the boilers; below,
steam-pipes had to be rejointed, glands re-packed, engines turned
by hand, and steam raised to see that all was in working order.
Not doubting that the ice would soon break up and release the ship,
this work was carried on so vigorously that when the southern
travelers returned all was ready for them to put to sea again.
But eleven days before Scott and his companions struggled back
to safety the great event of the season had happened in the arrival
of the Morning. How the funds were raised by means of which this
ship was sent is a tale in itself; briefly, however, it was due to
the untiring zeal and singleness of purpose shown by Sir Clements
Markham that the Morning, commanded by Lieutenant William Colbeck,
R.N.R., was able to leave the London Docks on July 9, 1902.
Long before the Discovery had left New Zealand the idea of a
relief ship had been discussed, and although Scott saw great
difficulties in the way, he also felt quite confident that if
the thing was to be done Sir Clements was the man to do it.
Obviously then it was desirable to leave as much information
as possible on the track, and the relief ship was to try and
pick up clues at the places where Scott had said that he would
attempt to leave them. These places were Cape Adare, Possession
Islands, Coulman Island, Wood Bay, Franklin Island and Cape
Crozier.
On January 8 a landing was effected at Cape Adare, and there
Colbeck heard of the Discovery's safe arrival in the south. The
Possession Islands were drawn blank, because Scott had not been
able to land there, and south of this the whole coast was so
thickly packed that the Morning could not approach either Coulman
Island or Wood Bay.
Franklin Island was visited on January 14, but without result;
and owing to the quantities of pack ice it was not until four days
later that a landing was made at Cape Crozier. Colbeck himself
joined the landing party, and after spending several hours in
fruitless search, he was just giving up the hunt and beginning
despondently to wonder what he had better do next, when suddenly
a small post was seen on the horizon. A rush was made for it,
and in a few minutes Colbeck knew that he had only to steer into
the mysterious depths of McMurdo Sound to find the Discovery,
and practically to accomplish the work he had set out to do.
On board the Discovery the idea had steadily grown that a relief
ship would come. For no very clear reason the men had begun to look
upon it as a certainty, and during the latter part of January it
was not uncommon for wild rumors to be spread that smoke had been
seen to the north. Such reports, therefore, were generally received
without much excitement, but when a messenger ran down the hill
on the night of the 23rd to say that there was actually a ship
in sight the enthusiasm was intense. Only the most imperturbable
of those on board could sleep much during that night, and early
on the 24th a large party set out over the floe. The Morning was
lying some ten miles north of the Discovery, but it was far easier
to see her than to reach her. At last, however, the party, after
various little adventures, stood safely on deck and received the
warmest of welcomes.
During the last week of January the weather was in its most glorious
mood, and with some of the treacherous thin ice breaking away the
Morning was able to get a mile nearer. Parties constantly passed
to and fro between the two ships, and everyone--with unshaken
confidence that the Discovery would soon be free--gave themselves
up to the delight of fresh companionship, and the joy of good news
from the home country. To this scene of festivity and cheeriness
Scott, Wilson and Shackleton returned on February 3, and though
the last to open their letters they had the satisfaction of knowing
that the Morning had brought nothing but good news.
By a curious coincidence Colbeck chose the night of the Southern
party's return to make his first visit to the Discovery, and
soon after Scott had come out of his delicious bath and was reveling
in the delight of clean clothes, he had the pleasure of welcoming
him on board. 'In those last weary marches over the barrier,'
Scott says, 'I had little expected that the first feast in our
home quarters would be taken with strange faces gathered round
our festive table, but so it was, and I can well remember the
look of astonishment that dawned on those faces when we gradually
displayed our power of absorbing food.'
But however difficult the appetites of the party were to appease,
for a fortnight after they had reached the ship their condition
was very wretched. Shackleton at once went to bed, and although
he soon tried to be out and about again, the least exertion caused
a return of his breathlessness, and he still suffered from the
violent fits of coughing that had troubled him so much on the
journey. With Wilson, who at one time had shown the least signs
of scurvy, the disease had increased so rapidly at the end that
on his return he wisely decided to go to bed, where he remained
quietly for ten days. 'Wilson,' Scott wrote on February 16, 'is
a very fine fellow, his pluck and go were everything on our southern
journey; one felt he wouldn't give in till he dropped.' And this
collapse when he got back to the ship was in itself a proof of the
determination which must have upheld him during the last marches.
Scott, though the least affected of the three, was also by no
means fit and well. Both his legs were swollen and his gums were
very uncomfortable, but in addition to these troubles he was
attacked by an overwhelming feeling of both physical and mental
weariness. 'Many days passed,' he says, 'before I could rouse
myself from this slothful humour, and it was many weeks before
I had returned to a normally vigorous condition. It was probably
this exceptionally relaxed state of health that made me so slow
to realize that the ice conditions were very different from what
they had been in the previous season.... The prospect of the
ice about us remaining fast throughout the season never once
entered my head.' His diary, however, for the month shows how he
gradually awakened to the true state of affairs, and on February
13 he decided to begin the transport of stores from the Morning
to the Discovery, so that the former ship 'should run no risk
of being detained.' And on the 18th when he paid his first visit
to the Morning and found the journey 'an awful grind,' he had
begun to wonder whether the floe was ever going to break up.
A week later he was clearly alive to the situation. 'The Morning
must go in less than a week, and it seems now impossible that
we shall be free by that time, though I still hope the break-up
may come after she has departed.' Some time previously he had
decided that if they had to remain the ship's company should
be reduced, and on the 24th he had a talk with the men and told
them that he wished nobody to stop on board who was not willing.
On the following day a list was sent round for the names of those
who wanted to go, and the result was curiously satisfactory--for
Scott had determined that eight men should go, and not only were
there eight names on the list, but they were also precisely those
which Scott would have put there had he made the selection.
Shackleton also had to be told that he must go, as in his state
of health Scott did not think that any further hardships ought
to be risked; but in his place Scott requisitioned Mulock who
by an extraordinary chance is just the very man we wanted. We
have now an immense amount of details for charts... and Mulock
is excellent at this work and as keen as possible. It is rather
amusing, as he is the only person who is obviously longing for
the ice to stop in, though of course he doesn't say so. The other
sporting characters are still giving ten to one that it will go
out, but I am bound to confess that I am not sanguine.'
The letter from which the last extract is taken was begun on
February 16, and before the end of the month all hope of the
Discovery being able to leave with the Morning had been abandoned.
On March 2 nearly the whole of the Discovery's company were
entertained on board the Morning, and on the following day the
relief ship slowly backed away from the ice-edge, and in a few
minutes she was turning to the north, with every rope and spar
outlined against the black northern sky. Cheer after cheer was
raised as she gathered way, and long after she had passed out
of earshot the little band stood gazing at her receding hull,
and wondering when they too would be able to take the northern
track.
In the Morning went a letter from Scott which shows that although
in a sense disappointed by the prospect of having to remain for
another winter, both he and his companions were not by any means
dismayed. 'It is poor luck,' he wrote, 'as I was dead keen on
getting a look round C. North before making for home. However
we all take it philosophically, and are perfectly happy and
contented on board, and shall have lots to do in winter, spring
and summer. We will have a jolly good try to free the ship next
year, though I fear manual labor doesn't go far with such terribly
heavy ice as we have here; but this year we were of course
unprepared, and when we realized the situation it was too late
to begin anything like extensive operations. I can rely on every
single man that remains in the ship and I gave them all the option
of leaving... the ship's company is now practically naval-officers
and men--it is rather queer when one looks back to the original
gift of two officers.'
Referring to the Southern journey he says, 'We cut our food and
fuel too fine.... I never knew before what it was to be hungry;
at times we were famished and had to tighten our belts nightly
before going to sleep. The others dreamt of food snatched away
at the last moment, but this didn't bother me so much.'
But characteristically the greater part of this long letter refers
not to his own doings, but to the admirable qualities of those
who were with him. Wilson, Royds, Skelton, Hodgson, Barne and
Bernacchi are all referred to in terms of the warmest praise,
and for the manner in which Colbeck managed the relief expedition
the greatest admiration is expressed. But in some way or other
Scott discovered good points in all the officers he mentioned,
and if they were not satisfactory in every way his object seemed
to be rather to excuse than to blame them. He was, however,
unaffectedly glad to see the last of the cook, for the latter
had shown himself far more capable at talking than at cooking,
and had related so many of his wonderful adventures that one
of the sailors reckoned that the sum total of these thrilling
experiences must have extended over a period of five hundred
and ninety years--which, as the sailor said, was a fair age even
for a cook.
By March 14 even the most optimistic of the company were compelled
to admit the certainty of a second winter, and orders were given
to prepare the ship for it. Compared with the previous year the
weather had been a great deal worse, for there had been more
wind and much lower temperatures, and under such conditions it
was hopeless to go on expecting the ice to break up. But it was
not to be wondered at that they found themselves wondering what
their imprisonment meant. Was it the present summer or the last
that was the exception? For them this was the gravest question,
since on the answer to it their chance of getting away next year,
or at all, depended.
While, however, the situation as regards the future was not
altogether without anxiety, they sturdily determined to make the
best of the present. To ward off any chance of scurvy, it was
determined to keep rigidly to a fresh-meat routine throughout
the winter, and consequently a great number of seals and skuas
had to be killed. At first the skua had been regarded as unfit
for human food, but Skelton on a sledding trip had caught one in
a noose and promptly put it into the pot. And the result was so
satisfactory that the skua at once began to figure prominently on
the menu. They had, however, to deplore the absence of penguins
from their winter diet, because none had been seen near the ship
for a long time.
On Wednesday, April 24, the sun departed, but Scott remarks upon
this rather dismal fact with the greatest cheerfulness: 'It would
be agreeable to know what is going to happen next year, but
otherwise we have no wants. Our routine goes like clock-work;
we eat, sleep, work and play at regular hours, and are never in
lack of employment. Hockey, I fear, must soon cease for lack of
light, but it has been a great diversion, although not unattended
with risks, for yesterday I captured a black eye from a ball
furiously driven by Royds.'
Of the months that followed little need be said, except that
Scott's anticipations were fully realized. In fact the winter
passed by without a hitch, and their second mid-winter day found
them even more cheerful than their first. Hodgson continued to
work away with his fish-traps, tow-nets and dredging; Mulock, who
had been trained as a surveyor and had great natural abilities
for the work, was most useful, first in collecting and re-marking
all the observations, and later on in constructing temporary
charts; while Barne generally vanished after breakfast and spent
many a day at his distant sounding holes.
Throughout the season the routine of scientific observations was
carried out in the same manner as in the previous year, while
many new details were added; and so engaged was everyone in
serviceable work that when the second long Polar night ended,
Scott was able to write: 'I do not think there is a soul on board
the Discovery who would say that it has been a hardship.... All
thoughts are turned towards the work that lies before us, and
it would be difficult to be blind to the possible extent of its
usefulness. Each day has brought it more home to us how little
we know and how much there is to be learned, and we realize fully
that this second year's work may more than double the value of
our observations. Life in these regions has lost any terror it
ever possessed for us, for we know that, come what may, we can
live, and live well, for any reasonable number of years to come.'
CHAPTER VIII
THE WESTERN JOURNEY
Path of advance! but it leads
A long steep journey through sunk
Gorges, o'er mountains in snow.
--M. ARNOLD.
During the second winter much time and attention had to be given
to the sledge equipment, for there was scarcely an article in it
that did not need to be thoroughly overhauled and refitted. But
in spite of all their efforts, the outfit for the coming season
was bound to be a tattered and makeshift affair. Skins of an
inferior quality had to be used for sleeping-bags; the tents were
blackened with use, threadbare in texture, and patched in many
places; the cooking apparatus was considerably the worse for wear;
the wind clothes were almost worn out, while for all the small
bags, which were required for provisions, they were obliged to
fall back on any sheets and tablecloths that could be found. This
state of things, however, was very far from daunting their spirits,
and long before the winter was over the plan of campaign for the
next season had been drawn up.
In making the program Scott knew that extended journeys could
only be made by properly supported parties, and it was easy to
see that his small company would not be able to make more than
two supported journeys, though it might be just possible to make
a third more or less lengthy journey without support. The next
thing to decide was in what direction these parties should go,
and in this connection the greatest interest undoubtedly lay in
the west. To explore the Ferrar Glacier from a geological point
of view and find out the nature of the interior ice-cap must,
Scott determined, be attempted at all costs, and this journey
to the west he decided to lead himself.
In the south it was evident that without dogs no party could hope
to get beyond the point already reached. But Scott's journey had
been made a long way from land, and consequently had left many
problems unsolved, chief among which were the extraordinary
straits that had appeared to run through the mountain ranges
without rising in level. It was therefore with the main object
of exploring one of them that the second supported party, under
the leadership of Barne and Mulock, was to set out.
The credit in arranging the direction in which the unsupported
party should go belongs to Bernacchi, who was the first to ask
Scott what proof they had that the barrier surface continued on
a level to the eastward; and when Scott began to consider this
question, he discovered that there was no definite proof, and
decided that the only way to get it was to go and see.
[Illustration: Pinnacled ice at mouth of Ferrar Glacier.]
[Illustration: Pressure ridges north side of Discovery Bluff.]
Besides the longer journeys, the program included a number of
shorter ones for specific purposes, and the most important of
these were the periodic visits to the Emperor penguin rookery,
as it was hoped that Wilson would be able to observe these birds
from the beginning of their breeding season.
Finally, one important factor was to dominate all the sledding
arrangements, for although the Discovery was mainly at the mercy
of natural causes, Scott made up his mind that everything man
could do to free her from the ice should be done. As soon as
they could hope to make any impression upon the great ice-sheet
around them, the whole force of the company was to set to work
at the task of extrication, and so all sledding journeys were to
start in time to assure their return to the ship by the middle
of December.
On September 9 Scott got away with his own party of Skelton,
Dailey, Evans, Lashly and Handsley, their object being to find
a new road to the Ferrar Glacier, and on it to place a depôt
ready for a greater effort over the ice-cap. The Ferrar Glacier
descends gradually to the inlet, which had been named New Harbor,
but Armitage had reported most adversely on this inlet as a route
for sledges, and in conducting his own party had led it across
the high foot-hills. As yet Scott had not been to this region,
but in the nature of things he could not help thinking that some
practical route must exist up the New Harbor inlet, and that if
it could be found the journey to the west would be much easier.
And the result of this little journey was really important, for
whereas Armitage, at the foot of the Ferrar Glacier, had seen
the disturbance on the south side, and had concluded that it
must extend right across, Scott's party fortunately pushed over
this disturbance and found much easier conditions beyond it.
The fact thus discovered, and which was amply supported by further
observations, was that invariably in the Antarctic regions where
glaciers run more or less east and west, the south side will be
found to be much broken up and decayed, while the north side will
be comparatively smooth and even. The reason of this, of course,
is simple enough, for the sun achieves its highest altitude in
the north, and consequently its warmest and most direct rays fall
on the south side of a valley. Here, therefore, the greater part
of the summer melting takes place, and a wild chaos of ice
disturbance is caused.
Scott's party, by taking a different route, laid a depôt at a
spot which Armitage had taken three weeks to reach, and was back
again at the ship in less than a fortnight.
'We were,' Scott says, 'inclined to be exceedingly self-satisfied;
we had accomplished our object with unexpected ease, we had done
a record march, and we had endured record temperatures--at least,
we thought so, and thought also how pleasant it would be to tell
these things in front of a nice bright fire. As we approached the
ship, however, Hodgson came out to greet us, and his first question
was, "What temperatures have you had?" We replied by complacently
quoting our array of minus fifties, but he quickly cut us short by
remarking that we were not in it.'
In fact during those few days there had been a very cold snap
throughout the region. Barne's party on the barrier, where they
had been laying a depôt, had the coldest time, and after their
thermometer had fallen lower and lower its spirit-column broke
at -67.7°. Royds and his party also had to endure -62°, but in
other respects they were in luck. For on arriving at Cape Crozier
they found that the Emperor penguins had already hatched out
their young, and Wilson was delighted to get the opportunity of
studying the chicks at such a tender age. Commenting upon this
and another journey to Cape Crozier, Wilson wrote: 'The Emperor
penguin stands nearly four feet high, and weighs upward of eighty
to ninety pounds.... I think the chickens hate their parents,
and when one watches the proceedings in a rookery it strikes
one as not surprising. In the first place there is about one
chick to ten or twelve adults, and each adult has an overpowering
desire to "sit" on something. Both males and females want to
nurse, and the result is that when a chicken finds himself alone
there is a rush on the part of a dozen unemployed to seize him.
Naturally he runs away, and dodges here and there till a six-stone
Emperor falls on him, and then begins a regular football scrimmage,
in which each tries to hustle the other off, and the end is too
often disastrous to the chick.... I think it is not an exaggeration
to say that of the 77 per cent. that die no less than half are
killed by kindness.'
From Cape Crozier Cross resolved to try to bring two chickens
back to the ship, and by giving up his sleeping jacket to keep
them warm and tending them with the utmost care, he succeeded
in his attempt. But eventually they died from unnatural feeding,
and Wilson says: 'Had we even succeeded in bringing them to the
age when they put on their feathers, I fear that the journey
home through the tropics would have proved too much for them,
as we had no means of making a cool place for them on the ship.'
September 21 brought with it a grievous disappointment, as on
that day the nautical almanac announced that nine-tenths of the
sun would be obscured. For this event Bernacchi had made the
most careful preparations, and everyone was placed under his
orders during the day. Telescopes and the spectroscopic camera
were trained in the right direction, magnetic instruments were
set to run at quick speed, and observers were told off to watch
everything on which the absence of sun could possibly have the
smallest effect. Everything, in short, was ready except the sun
itself which obstinately refused to come out. 'There may,' Scott
says, 'have been an eclipse of the sun on September 21, 1903, as
the almanac said, but we should none of us have liked to swear
to the fact.'
The next three weeks or so were spent in preparations for the
long journeys, and on October 12 Scott left the ship with a party
of twelve, and four 11-foot sledges. First came his own party,
which included Skelton, Feather, Evans, Lashly and Handsley;
secondly there was a small party for the geologist, Ferrar, who
was accompanied by Kennar and Weller; and thirdly there were
the supports, consisting of Dailey, Williamson and Plumley.
Scott guessed rightly that in many respects this was going to
be the hardest task he had yet undertaken, but he knew also that
experience would be a thing to be reckoned upon, and that it
would take a good deal to stop the determined men whom he had
chosen. At the start their loads were a little over 200 lbs.
per man, but most of the party were by this time in thoroughly
good condition, and by hard marching they covered the forty-five
miles to New Harbor and reached the snow-cape early on the 14th.
This snow-cape in future was to be known as Butter Point, for
here on their return journey they could hope to obtain fresh
seal-meat, and in preparation for this great event a tin of butter
was carried and left at the point for each party.
At first all went well with the travelers, and it was not until
the evening of the 17th, when they were camped amid indescribably
beautiful scenery, that the first cloud of trouble arose. Then
Dailey the carpenter reported that the German silver had split
under the runners of two sledges, and this was a most serious
blow; for although the wood runners were capable of running on
snow without protection, on hard, sharp ice, especially if the
sledge was heavily laden, they would be knocked to pieces in
a very short time. It was, therefore, absolutely necessary to
protect the runners on this journey, but unfortunately the German
silver protection had already stood a season's work, and had worn
thin without giving any outward sign.
From start to finish of the Ferrar Glacier about ninety miles
of hard ice were to be expected, and the problem that immediately
arose was how to get the sledges over this without damage.
By lunch-time on the 18th they had achieved a height of over
6,000 feet, and by that time the sledges were in such a parlous
state that Scott had all of them unpacked and the runners turned
up for inspection. Horrid revelations followed; one sledge remained
sound, and Scott promptly decided that there was one course and
only one to take, and that was to return to the ship as fast as
they could. Had two sledges been available the advance party
might have struggled on, but with one they could do nothing; so
they left the sound sledge with everything else except the
half-week's provisions necessary to take them back, and on the
following days they 'came as near flying as is possible with a
sledge party.' On the morning of the 19th they had eighty-seven
miles to cover, and by 8.30 P.M. on the 21st they had reached
the ship.
During this march Scott had determined to test his own party
to the utmost, but seeing no necessity for the supports to be
dragged into this effort he told them to take their own time.
The supporting party, however, did not mean to be left behind
if they could help it, and later on the night of the 21st they
also reached the ship. In the hard struggle of the last hours
some of the members of the supporting party, though determined
not to give in, had been comically astounded by the pace which
was set, and Kennar, presumably referring to Scott, kept on
repeating, 'If he can do it, I don't see why I can't: my legs
are as long as his.
Five days after their flying return they were off again, and
although the material for repairing sledges was very scanty,
one sound 11-foot sledge had been made and also a 7-foot one for
Ferrar's glacier work. Trouble, however, almost at once began
with the runners, and on the 29th Ferrar's sledge gave out and
caused a long delay. But in spite of being held up by wind for
two days, they reached their depôt on November 1, and thought
at first that everything was safe. On examination, however, they
discovered that a violent gale had forced open the lid of the
instrument box, and that several things were missing, among which
Scott found to his dismay was the 'Hints to Travelers.'
'The gravity of this blow,' he wrote in his diary on November
1, 'can scarcely be exaggerated; but whilst I realized the blow
I felt that nothing would induce me to return to the ship a second
time; I thought it fair, however, to put the case to the others,
and I am, as I expected, fortified by their willing consent to
take the risks of pushing on.'
In traveling to the west, Scott expected to be--as indeed he
was--out of sight of landmarks for some weeks. In such a case
as this the sledge-traveler is in precisely the same position
as a ship or a boat at sea: he can only obtain a knowledge of
his whereabouts by observation of the sun or stars, and with the
help of these observations he finds his latitude and longitude,
but to do this a certain amount of data is required. 'Hints to
Travelers' supplies these necessary data, and it was on this book
that Scott had been relying to help him to work out his sights
and fix accurately the position of his party. Unless he went back
to the ship to make good his loss, he was obliged to take the
risk of marching into the unknown without knowing exactly where
he was or how he was to get back. 'If,' he says, 'the loss of
our "Hints to Travelers" did not lead us into serious trouble it
caused me many a bad half-hour.'
Having, however, decided to push on, they wasted no time about
it, and although the sledge-runners continued to need constant
attention they arrived at the base of the upper glacier reach
on the 2nd, and on the following day gained a height of 7,000
feet. So far nothing exceptionally eventful had occurred, but
November 4 was destined to begin a time that Scott described
afterwards as 'the most miserable week I have ever spent.' In
the morning of the 4th there was bright sunshine with a cold,
increasing wind, but later on the sun disappeared and the weather
became very threatening. Still, however, they battled on and
were half-way up the bare, icy slope they were climbing, when
the air became thick with driving snow and the full force of the
gale burst upon them. Pushing on at almost a run they succeeded
in reaching the top, and hurriedly started to search for a patch
of snow on which to camp, but nothing could be found except bare,
blue ice. By this time the position was becoming serious, all of
them were frost-bitten in the face, and although the runners of
the sledges were split again so badly that they could barely pull
them over the surface, they did not dare to leave the sledges in
the thick drift.
At last a white patch was seen and a rush was made for it, but
the snow discovered was so ancient and wind-swept that it was
almost as hard as the ice itself. Nevertheless they knew it was
this or nothing, and Scott seized a shovel for his own tent-party,
and dug for all he was worth without making the least impression.
At this moment Feather, the boatswain, luckily came to help him,
and being more expert with the shovel managed to chip out a few
small blocks. Then they tried to get up a tent, but again and
again it and the poles were blown flat, and at least an hour
passed before the tents were erected. 'Nothing,' Scott wrote,
'but experience saved us from disaster to-day, for I feel pretty
confident that we could not have stood another hour in the open.'
Little, however, did they expect when shelter was gained that
a week would pass before they could resume their march. From
November 4-11 the gale raged unceasingly, and meanwhile not a
vision of the outer world came to them, for they were enveloped
continuously in a thick fog of driving snow.
In Scott's tent there was one book, Darwin's 'Cruise of the Beagle,'
and first one and then another would read this aloud, until frozen
fingers prevented the pages from being turned over. Only one
piece of work were they able to perform, and this on the first
day when, thinking the storm would soon blow over, they hauled
the sledges beneath one of the tents and stripped the German
silver ready for the onward march.
By the fifth day of their imprisonment sleep began to desert them,
and Scott, realizing that the long inactivity was telling on the
health of the party, determined that whatever the conditions might
be he would try to start on the following morning.
This attempt, however, resulted in complete failure. In ten minutes
both of Scott's hands were 'gone,' Skelton had three toes and the
heel of one foot badly frost-bitten, and Feather lost all feeling
in both feet. 'Things are looking serious,' Scott wrote after this
unsuccessful effort to be up and doing, 'I fear the long spell of
bad weather is telling on us. The cheerfulness of the party is
slowly waning; I heard the usual song from Lashly this morning,
but it was very short-lived and dolorous.... Something must be
done to-morrow, but what it will be, to-morrow only can show.'
Fortunately the next morning brought a lull in the storm, and
though the air was still as thick as a hedge it was possible at
last to break away from 'Desolation Camp.' Then Scott's party
separated from Ferrar's, the former making for the ice-fall and
eventually and miraculously reaching the top without accident. On
starting they could not see half-a-dozen yards ahead, and at once
went as nearly as possible into an enormous chasm; and when they
began to ascend they crossed numerous crevasses without waiting
to see if the bridges would bear. 'I really believe that we were
in a state when we none of us really cared much what happened;
our sole thought was to get away from that miserable spot.'
But during the succeeding days fortune was with them, and by the
night of the 13th the fight was won and the summit reached. With
five weeks' provisions in hand, and the prospect of covering many
miles before a return to the glacier would be necessary, they were,
as they camped at the elevation of 8,900 feet, a very different
party from the one which had struggled out of 'Desolation Camp'
on the morning of the 11th.
But they had scarcely gained the summit of the icecap and started
the journey to the west before troubles again began to gather
round them. The long stay in 'Desolation Camp' had covered their
sleeping-bags and night-jackets with ice, and with falling
temperatures this ice had so little chance to evaporate that
camping arrangements were acutely uncomfortable; and as each
night the thermometer fell a little lower, the chance of relief
from this state of things could scarcely be said to exist. The
wind, too, was a constant worry, for though it was not very strong,
when combined with the low temperature and rarefied air its effect
was blighting.
'I do not think,' Scott wrote, 'that it would be possible to
conceive a more cheerless prospect than that which faced us at
this time, when on this lofty, desolate plateau we turned our backs
upon the last mountain peak that could remind us of habitable lands.
Yet before us lay the unknown. What fascination lies in that word!
Could anyone wonder that we determined to push on, be the outlook
ever so comfortless?'
So they plodded forward with all their strength, but in spite
of every effort their progress gradually became slower. By the
17th the sledges had been divided, Scott, Feather, and Evans
leading with one, while Skelton, Handsley, and Lashly followed
with the other. But Scott found very soon that the second sledge
had great difficulty in keeping up, and that although he himself
felt thoroughly strong and well, some of his companions were
beginning to fail. As was natural with such men not one of them
would own that he was exhausted, and in consequence it was only
by paying the keenest attention that he could detect those who
from sheer incapacity were relaxing their strain on the traces.
And his position was not pleasant even when he knew, for to tell
any of these brave people that they must turn back was a most
unenviable task. Thus it came about that all six of them marched
on, though Scott was sure that better progress would have been
made had the party been divided.
Something like a climax was reached on the 20th, when Handsley
more or less broke down. Not for a moment, however, did he mean
to give up, and when he was relieved of some part of his work he
begged Scott not again to make an example of him. In Handsley's
opinion his breakdown was a disgrace, and no arguments would
make him change it. Small wonder then that Scott wrote in his
diary: 'What children these men are, and yet what splendid children!
The boatswain has been suffering agonies from his back; he has
been pulling just behind me, and in some sympathy that comes
through the traces I have got to know all about him, yet he has
never uttered a word of complaint, and when he knows my eye is
on him he straightens up and pretends he is just as fit as ever.
What is one to do with such people?'
What Scott did was to try for another day to go on as before,
but on November 22 he had to tell Skelton, Feather, and Handsley
that they must turn back, and though 'they could not disguise
their disappointment, they all seemed to understand that it had
to be.'
From the date on which Scott reluctantly came to this decision,
three weeks of the hardest physical toil followed for him and
his companions, Evans and Lashly. Nevertheless Scott looked back
upon this strenuous time with unmixed satisfaction, and paid a
high tribute of praise to his companions for their part in the
successful work that was done.
'With these two men behind me,' he says, 'our sledge seemed to be
a living thing, and the days of slow progress were numbered....
Troubles and discomforts were many, and we could only guess at
the progress we made, but we knew that by sticking to our task
we should have our reward when our observations came to be worked
out on board the ship.'
Regularly each night the temperature fell to -40° or below, while
during the marching hours it rarely rose much above -25°, and
with this low temperature there was a constant wind. In fact the
wind was the plague of their lives and cut them to pieces. So
cracked were their faces that laughing hurt horribly, and the
first half-hour of the morning march, before they were warmed
up to the work, was dreadful, as then all their sore places got
frost-bitten. In short the last week of their outward march was
a searching test of endurance, but they had resolved to march
on until November 30, and in spite of the miserable conditions
there was no turning back before the month had ended.
Scott, however, was most undisguisedly glad when November 30
had come and gone. 'We have finished our last outward march,
thank heaven! Nothing has kept us going during the past week
but the determination to carry out our original intention of
going on to the end of the month, and so here we have pitched
our last camp.'
CHAPTER IX
THE RETURN FROM THE WEST
Ceaseless frost round the vast solitude
Bound its broad zone of stillness.
--SHELLEY.
'We are all,' Scott wrote in his diary, 'very proud of our march
out. I don't know where we are, but I know we must be a long
way to the west from my rough noon observation of the compass
variation.' But not for anything in the world did he want again
to see the interior of Victoria Land. Writing two years after
this great march he says: 'For me the long month which we spent
on the Victoria Land summit remains as some vivid but evil dream.
I have a memory of continuous strain on mind and body, lightened
only by the unfailing courage and cheerfulness of my companions.'
From first to last the month of November had been a struggle to
penetrate into this barren, deserted, wind-swept, piercingly cold,
and fearfully monotonous region, and although on turning homewards
the travelers were relieved by having the wind at their backs, the
time of trial was by no means over. Only by utilizing all their
powers of marching could they hope to retreat in safety from their
position, and December opened with such overcast weather that
valuable time had to be spent in the tent. During the next few days,
however, good marches were made, until on December 9 everything
changed abruptly for the worse.
On the afternoon of the 9th the surface became so abominably
bad, that by pulling desperately they could not get the sledge
along at more than a mile an hour. Oil was growing short, and in
view of the future Scott had to propose that marching hours should
be increased by one hour, that they should use half allowance of
oil, and that if they did not sight landmarks within a couple of
days their rations should be reduced. 'When I came to the cold
lunch and fried breakfast poor Evans' face fell; he evidently
doesn't much believe in the virtue of food, unless it is in the
form of a hoosh and has some chance of sticking to one's ribs.'
Land was sighted on the 10th, 11th, and 12th, but the weather was
as overcast as ever, and Scott was still in dreadful uncertainty
of their whereabouts, because he was unable to recognize a single
point. Ten hours' pulling per day was beginning to tell upon
them, and although apart from the increasing pangs of hunger
there was no sign of sickness, Scott remarks, on the 12th, that
they were becoming 'gaunt shadows.'
During the morning of the 13th Evans' nose, which had been more
or less frost-bitten for some weeks, had an especially bad attack.
His attitude to this unruly member was one of comic forbearance,
as though, while it scarcely belonged to him, he was more or less
responsible for it and so had to make excuses. On this occasion
when told that it had 'gone,' he remarked in a resigned tone,
'My poor old nose again; well, there, it's chronic!' By the time
it had been brought round a storm was blowing, and though they
continued to march, the drift was so thick that at any moment
they might have walked over the edge of a precipice--a fitting
prelude to what, by general consent, was admitted to be the most
adventurous day in their lives.
Prospects, when they started to march on the next morning, were
at first a little brighter, but soon a bitterly cold wind was
blowing and high ice hummocks began to appear ahead of them. In
this predicament Scott realized that it was both rash to go
forward, as the air was becoming thick with snow-drift, and equally
rash to stop, for if they had to spend another long spell in a
blizzard camp, starvation would soon be staring them in the face.
So he asked Evans and Lashly if they were ready to take the risk
of going on, and promptly discovered that they were. Then they
marched straight for the ice disturbance, and as the surface
became smoother and the slope steeper their sledge began to
overrun them. At this point Scott put Evans and Lashly behind
to hold the sledge back, while he continued in front to guide
its course, and what happened afterwards is described most
graphically in the diary of the 15th.
'Suddenly Lashly slipped, and in an instant he was sliding downward
on his back; directly the strain came on Evans, he too was thrown
off his feet. It all happened in a moment, and before I had time
to look the sledge and the two men hurtled past me; I braced
myself to stop them, but might as well have attempted to hold an
express train. With the first jerk I was whipped off my legs, and
we all three lay sprawling on our backs and flying downward with
an ever-increasing velocity. For some reason the first thought
that flashed into my mind was that someone would break a limb if
he attempted to stop our mad career, and I shouted something to
this effect, but might as well have saved my breath. Then there
came a sort of vague wonder as to what would happen next, and in
the midst of that I was conscious that we had ceased to slide
smoothly and were now bounding over a rougher incline, sometimes
leaving it for several yards at a time; my thought flew to broken
limbs again, for I felt we could not stand much of such bumping.
'At length we gave a huge leap into the air, and yet we traveled
with such velocity that I had not time to think before we came
down with tremendous force on a gradual incline of rough, hard,
wind-swept snow. Its irregularities brought us to rest in a moment
or two, and I staggered to my feet in a dazed fashion, wondering
what had happened.
'Then to my joy I saw the others also struggling to their legs, and
in another moment I could thank heaven that no limbs were broken.
But we had by no means escaped scathless; our legs now show one
black bruise from knee to thigh, and Lashly was unfortunate enough
to land once on his back, which is bruised and very painful....
I, as the lightest, escaped the easiest, yet before the two men
crawled painfully to their feet their first question was to ask
if I had been hurt.
'As soon as I could pull myself together I looked round, and now
to my astonishment I saw that we were well on towards the entrance
of our own glacier; ahead and on either side of us appeared
well-remembered landmarks, whilst behind, in the rough broken
ice-wall over which we had fallen, I now recognized at once the
most elevated ice cascade of our valley....
'I cannot but think that this sudden revelation of our position
was very wonderful. Half an hour before we had been lost; I could
not have told whether we were making for our own glacier or any
other, or whether we were ten or fifty miles from our depôt; it
was more than a month since we had seen any known landmark. Now
in this extraordinary manner the curtain had been raised... and
down the valley we could see the high cliffs of the Depôt Nunatak
where peace and plenty awaited us.'
The sledge had not capsized until they all rolled over at the
end, but the jolting had scattered their belongings and broken
open the biscuit box, with the result that they had no provisions
left, except the few scraps they could pick up and the meager
contents of their food bag. As quickly as stiffening limbs would
allow they collected their scattered articles, repacked the sledge
and marched on towards the depôt. Before them lay a long plateau,
at the edge of which Scott knew that they would find a second
cascade, and beneath it the region of Desolation Camp and a more
gradual icy surface down to the depôt.
Fortune favored them in descending the second cascade, and quite
unsuspicious of any further danger they joined up their harness
to their usual positions in front of the sledge. This brought
Scott in the middle and a little in advance, with Lashly on his
right and Evans on his left. Presently the sledge began to skid,
and Scott told Lashly to pull wide to steady it. Scarcely had
this order been obeyed when Scott and Evans stepped on nothing
and disappeared, while Lashly miraculously saved himself from
following and sprang back with his whole weight on the trace.
The sledge flashed by him and jumped the crevasse down which
Scott and Evans had gone, one side of the sledge being cracked
by the jerk but the other side mercifully holding. 'Personally,'
Scott says, 'I remember absolutely nothing until I found myself
dangling at the end of my trace with blue walls on either side
and a very horrid looking gulf below; large ice-crystals dislodged
by our movements continued to shower down on our heads. As a
first step I took off my goggles; I then discovered that Evans
was hanging just above me. I asked him if he was all right, and
received a reassuring reply in his calm, matter-of-fact tones.'
Then Scott began to grope about on every side with his cramponed
feet, but not until his struggles set him swinging did his leg
suddenly strike a projection. At a glance he saw that by raising
himself he could get a foothold on this, and after a short struggle
he stood upon a thin shaft of ice, which was wedged providentially
between the walls of the chasm, and could look about him. To the
right or left, above or below, there was not the vestige of another
such support, nothing, in fact, but the smooth walls of ice. The
projection seemed to have got there by a miracle, but miracle or
not the thing to do was to help Evans, and when the latter had
slipped his harness well up beneath his arms Scott found that he
could pilot his feet to the bridge.
'All this had occupied some time, and it was only now that I
realized what had happened above us, for there, some twelve feet
over our heads, was the outline of the broken sledge. I saw at
once what a frail support remained, and shouted to Lashly to ask
what he could do, and then I knew the value of such a level-headed
companion; for whilst he held on grimly to the sledge and us with
one hand, his other was busily employed in withdrawing our ski.
At length he succeeded in sliding two of these beneath the broken
sledge, and so making our support more secure.'
But clever as this device was it still left them without Lashly's
active assistance, because directly he relaxed his hold the sledge
began to slip. The only possible course, therefore, was for Scott
and Evans to climb out unaided, and, after a word with Evans
Scott decided to try first; though he confessed afterwards that
he never expected to reach the top. Not for a longtime had he
swarmed a rope, and to do so in thick clothing, heavy crampons,
and with frost-bitten fingers seemed to him impossible. Of the
struggle that followed he remembered little except that he got a
rest when he could plant his foot in the belt of his own harness,
and again when his feet held on the rings of the belt. 'Then
came a mighty effort, till I reached the stirrup formed by the
rope span of the sledge, and then, mustering all the strength
that remained, I reached the sledge itself and flung myself on
to the snow beyond. Lashly said, "Thank God!" and it was perhaps
then that I realized that his position had been the worst of all.'
But having arrived at the top he was completely out of action
for several minutes, for his hands were white to the wrists,
and not until their circulation came back could he get to work.
With two on top and only one below the position, however, was
very different, and presently Evans, badly frost-bitten, was
landed on the surface. For a minute or two they could only stand
and look at one another. Then Evans said, 'Well, I'm blowed,'
which was the first sign of surprise he had shown.
By six o'clock on that same evening they reached their depôt,
and passed from abject discomfort to rest and peace. Bruised,
sore and tired as they were, Lashly sang merrily as he stirred
the pot, while Scott and Evans sat on the sledge, shifted their
foot-gear, spread out their clothes to dry, and talked cheerily
about the happenings of the day.
From this time onward their camp-life was wholly, pleasant, except
to Lashly who had an attack of snow-blindness. Apart from that
they were in the best of condition for the hard marching in front
of them, and when on the night of the 20th they reached their
second depôt and could look out towards the sea, they did not
care how far round they might have to walk if only that stubborn
sheet of ice had broken away. But it was too evident that their
homeward track might be as straight as they chose, as only in
the far distance was open water to be seen, and with sorrow they
realized that there must still be many miles of ice between it
and the Discovery.
Late on Christmas Eve they were once more on board the ship after
an absence of fifty-nine days, during which they had traveled 725
miles. Taking the eighty-one days of absence which had constituted
the whole sledding season, Scott, Evans and Lashly had covered
l,098 miles, and, not including minor undulations, had climbed
heights which totaled to 19,000 feet. On getting back to the
Discovery Scott found only Koettlitz, Handsley and Quartley on
board, because all the rest of the company had gone to the north
to saw through the ice; and during the few days of rest that he
allowed himself before going to the sawing-camp, he was able to
read the reports of the officers who had led the other journeys,
and to see what excellent work had been done during his absence.
Ferrar's survey and Skelton's photographic work had added materially
to the value of the western journey; the party led by Barne and
Mulock to the south had met with ill-fortune from the start, but
throughout the journey Mulock used the theodolite indefatigably,
with the results that this stretch of coast-line was more accurately
plotted than any other part of Victoria Land, and that the positions
and height of over two hundred mountain peaks were fixed. Barne
also obtained a very good indication of the movement of the Great
Barrier ice-sheet. During Royds' journey, on which the party went
on very short food allowance, Bernacchi took a most interesting
series of magnetic observations. And although to Bernacchi himself
belongs the greatest credit, some reflected glory, at any rate, fell
upon his companions, because they had to stay shivering outside the
tent while he was at work inside it.
Wilson had not only been busy with the penguins at Cape Crozier,
but had also made a complete examination of the enormous and
interesting pressure ridges which form the junction of the Great
Barrier ice-mass with the land, and subsequently had spent much
time in studying the windless area to the south of Ross Island.
Also, with Armitage and Heald, he had made an excellent little
journey, on which Armitage obtained some very good photographs,
sufficient in themselves to prove the receding glacial conditions
of the whole continent.
In short during Scott's absence his companions had been working
strenuously to increase the supply of information; so when the
second sledding-season ended, they could with reason congratulate
themselves that the main part of their work was done.
CHAPTER X
RELEASE
And Thor
Set his shoulder hard against the stern
To push the ship through...
...and the water gurgled in
And the ship floated on the waves and rock'd.
--M. ARNOLD.
After a few days on board Scott became restless to see what was
going on in the sawing-camp, and on the morning of the 31st he
started off with Evans, Lashly and Handsley to march the ten and
a half miles to the north. When the instructions for this attempt
to free the Discovery were drawn up, there had been, of course,
no telling how broad the ice-sheet would be when operations began,
and Scott had been obliged to assume that it would be nearly the
same as in the previous year, when the open water had extended to
the Dellbridge Islets about eleven miles from the ship. There he
directed that the camp should be made, and Armitage, on whom in
Scott's absence the command had devolved, made all preparations
in accordance with the instructions he had received.
At the outset, however, a difficulty awaited him, as in the middle
of December the open water, instead of being up to the islets,
ended at least ten miles farther to the north. Under the
circumstances he considered it dangerous to take the camp out
to the ice-edge, and so the sawing work had been begun in the
middle of the ice-sheet instead of at its edge.
Thirty people were in the camp when Scott arrived, and though at
first the work had been painful both to arms and backs they were
all in splendid condition and spirits. Fortunately this was a land
of plenty, penguins and seals abounded, and everyone agreed that,
apart from the labor, they were having a most enjoyable time,
though no one imagined that the work would be useful.
In two days Scott was as convinced as anyone that the work must
be in vain, and ordered the sawing to stop. 'I have been much
struck,' he wrote, 'by the way in which everyone has cheerfully
carried on this hopeless work until the order came to halt. There
could have been no officer or man among them who did not see
from the first how utterly useless it was, and yet there has
been no faltering or complaint, simply because all have felt
that, as the sailor expresses it, "Them's the orders."'
With twenty miles of ice between the Discovery and freedom, the
possibility of yet another winter had to be considered, so although
most of the company returned to the ship, Lashly, Evans, Handsley
and Clarke were left behind to make sure of an adequate stock of
penguins. And then Scott being unable to do any good by remaining
in the ship started off to the north with Wilson, the former
being anxious to watch the ice-edge and see what chance there
was of a break-up, while Wilson wanted to study the life of that
region. This journey was to be 'a real picnic,' with no hard
marching and plenty to eat; and, pursuing their leisurely way,
on January 4 they were within half a mile of the open water when
Wilson suddenly said, 'There they are.' Then Scott looked round,
and on the rocks of Cape Royds saw a red smudge dotted with
thousands of little black and white figures. Without doubt they
had stumbled upon a penguin rookery, but interesting as it was
to have made the discovery, it was at the same time exasperating
to think of the feast of eggs they had missed in the last two
years. During the rest of the day they watched the penguins and
the skua gulls which were nesting around them; and before supper
they took soap and towels down to a rill of thaw-water that ran
within a few yards of their tent, and washed in the warm sunlight.
'Then,' Scott says, 'we had a dish of fried penguin's liver with
seal kidneys; eaten straight out of the frying-pan, this was
simply delicious. I have come to the conclusion that life in the
Antarctic Regions can be very pleasant.'
Still in the proper picnic spirit they dawdled over their breakfast
on the following day, and were lazily discussing plans when Scott,
looking through the open door of the tent to the clear sea beyond,
suddenly caught sight of a ship. In a moment haste and bustle
reigned supreme, and while they were searching for boots and other
things necessary for the march, Wilson said, 'Why, there's another,'
and without any doubt two vessels were framed in the doorway. It
had at once been taken for granted that the first ship was the
Morning, but what in the name of fortune was the meaning of the
other neither Scott nor Wilson could imagine. The easiest and
quickest way to find out was to go straight on board, for the
ships were making for the ice-edge some five miles to the westward,
but if they had followed this simple plan their companions on the
Discovery would have known nothing about it, and would have been
compelled to wait for their mails. So they started southward to
find the penguin hunters, and then to send them to establish
communications with the ship. For a long time no sight of the
men could be seen, but after traveling about six miles Scott and
Wilson saw the tent, though without any signs of life about it;
indeed they were within a hundred yards before in answer to their
shouts four very satisfied figures emerged, still munching the
remains of a meal. 'Of course,' Scott says, 'I thought they had
not seen the ships, but they had, only, as they explained, they
didn't see there was any cause for them to do anything in the
matter. I said, "But, good heavens, you want your mails, don't
you?" "Oh, yes, sir," they replied, "but we thought that would
be all right." In other words, they as good as said that life
was so extremely easy and pleasant that there was no possible
object in worrying over such a trifle as the arrival of a relief
expedition.' When, however, they had got their orders they were
off at once, and Scott and Wilson went back to the ships and soon
found out from Colbeck why the Terra Nova had accompanied the
Morning, and how strangely the aspect of affairs had altered.
Writing in his diary on that night Scott says, 'I can only record
that in spite of the good home news, and in spite of the pleasure
of seeing old friends again, I was happier last night than I am
to-night.'
Briefly the reasons for the sending of the two ships instead of
one were these. Scott's report taken by the Morning had left the
strong impression that the relief ship must again be sent to the
south in 1903. The 'Morning' fund, however, was inadequate to
meet the requirements of another year, and there was not time
enough to appeal to the public and to explain the full necessities
of the case. In these circumstances there was nothing for the
Societies to do but to appeal to the Government, and eventually
the latter agreed to undertake the whole conduct of the relief
expedition, provided that the Morning, as she stood, was delivered
over to them. The Government naturally placed the management of
affairs in the hands of the Admiralty, and once having taken the
responsibility it was felt that two ships must be sent, in order
that there should be no risk of the pledge being unfulfilled.
The Terra Nova, one of the finest of the whaling ships, was bought,
and a whaling crew, under the command of Captain Harry MacKay, was
engaged to navigate her. Towards the end of November 1903 she
layoff Hobart Town in Tasmania, and in December she was joined
by the Morning, Captain Colbeck being directed to take charge
of this joint venture until both ships could come under Scott's
command.
Thus it happened that, much to every one's surprise, two ships
arrived off the edge of the fast ice on January 4, 1904. It was
not, however, the arrival of the Terra Nova, whose captain from
the first was anxious to help in every way, but quite another
matter that made Scott so sad--and naturally sad--at this time.
In England the majority of those competent to judge the situation
had formed the opinion that the Discovery was stuck fast in the
ice for all time. Whether the Admiralty held this opinion or
not is of no consequence, because in any case it was their duty
to see that the expense of another relief expedition should be
avoided. Consequently there was no other course open to them
except to tell Scott to abandon the Discovery, if she could not
be freed in time to accompany the relief ships to the north. But
necessary as this order was, it placed Scott and his companions
in a very cruel position. Under the most ordinary conditions a
sailor would go through much rather than abandon his ship, but
the ties which bound Scott and his company to the Discovery were
very far beyond the ordinary; indeed they involved a depth of
sentiment not in the least surprising when their associations
with her are remembered.
In spite of their long detention in the ice, the thought of leaving
her had never entered their heads. Some time she would be free
again, and even if they had to spend a third winter in her they
had determined to go through with it, and make themselves as
comfortable as possible.
It was from this passably contented frame of mind that they were
rudely awakened. Now they were obliged to face the fact that
unless a twenty-mile plain of ice broke up within six weeks,
they must bid a long farewell to their beloved ship and return
to their homes as castaways. So with the arrival of the relief
ships there fell the first and last cloud of gloom which was
ever allowed on board the Discovery. And as day followed day with
no improvement in the ice conditions, the gloom deepened until
anyone might easily have imagined that an Antarctic expedition
was a most dismal affair.
On January 10 Scott wrote: 'Reached the ship this morning, and
this afternoon assembled all hands on the mess-deck, where I
told them exactly how matters stood. There was a stony silence.
I have not heard a laugh in the ship since I returned.'
For some time a flagstaff had been erected on Tent Islet, ten
miles to the north, and a system of signals had been arranged
to notify any changes in the ice, but day after day the only
signal was 'No change in the ice conditions.'
On the 15th to relieve the weariness of waiting for something
that did not happen, Scott arranged that their collections and
instruments should be transported to the relief ships. Whatever
the future held in store he saw no reason why this should not
be done, and to have anything at all to do during this trying
time was a blessing; though he had by no means given up hope
that the Discovery would be freed. After a long spell at Cape
Royds camp, Wilson returned to the ship on the night of the 21st
with news that was all the more welcome at such an anxious time.
Strolling over the beach one day to inspect what he thought was
a prodigiously large seal he saw that it was quite different
from any of the ordinary seals, and went back to the camp for
his gun. Two of the Morning officers were in camp with him, and
all three of them proceeded to stalk this strange new beast.
Their great fear was that they might only succeed in wounding
it and that it might escape into the sea; so in spite of the
temperature of the water they waded round it before they attacked.
These tactics were successful, but their quarry when dispatched
was far too heavy for them to move, or for Wilson to examine
where it lay. On the following day, however, Colbeck came over
in the Morning, and with the aid of boats and ropes the carcass
was landed on his decks. Then Wilson came to the conclusion that
the animal was a sea-elephant commonly found at Macquarie Island,
but never before seen within the Antarctic circle.
No change in the ice occurred until the 18th when some large pieces
broke away, and by the 23rd Scott reckoned that the relief ships
were four or five miles nearer than they had been a fortnight
before. But, if the conditions were to be as they had been two
years before, thirteen or fourteen miles of ice must go out in
fifteen days, a far more rapid rate than it had been going during
the previous fortnight. On the 28th, however, the first sign of
real promise occurred, for the whole ice-sheet began to sway
very slightly under the action of a long swell, its edge against
the land rising and falling as much as 18 inches. 'We are all
very restless, constantly dashing up the hill to the lookout
station or wandering from place to place to observe the effects
of the swell. But it is long since we enjoyed such a cheerful
experience as we get on watching the loose pieces of ice jostling
one another at Hut Point.'
Days of hope and anxiety followed, until the 14th of February
arrived and brought the best of news with it. During the day
nothing unusual happened, and it was not until Scott was at dinner
that the excitement began. Then he heard a shout on deck, and
a voice sang out down the hatchway, 'The ships are coming, sir!'
'There was no more dinner, and in a moment we were racing for Hut
Point, where a glorious sight met our view. The ice was breaking
up right across the strait, and with a rapidity which we had not
thought possible. No sooner was one great floe borne away. Than
a dark streak cut its way into the solid sheet that remained and
carved out another, to feed the broad stream of pack which was
hurrying away to the north-west.
'I have never witnessed a more impressive sight; the sun was low
behind us, the surface of the ice-sheet in front was intensely
white, and in contrast the distant sea and its forking leads
looked almost black. The wind had fallen to a calm, and not a
sound disturbed the stillness about us. Yet, in the midst of
this peaceful silence, was an awful unseen agency rending that
great ice-sheet as though it had been none but the thinnest paper.'
But fast as the ice was breaking, it was not fast enough for the
relief ships. Evidently there was a race between them to be the
first to pass beyond the flagstaff round which the small company
of spectators had clustered; although the little Morning, with
her bluff bows and weak engines, could scarcely expect to hold
her own against such a powerful competitor. By half-past ten
those on shore could see the splintering of the ice as the ships
crashed into the floes, and the shouts of the men as with wild
excitement they cheered each fresh success, could be distinctly
heard.
Scarcely half a mile of ice remained and the contest became keener
and keener. On came the Terra Nova, but in spite of all her mighty
efforts the persistent little Morning, dodging right and left and
seizing every chance opening, kept doggedly at her side, and still
seemed to have a chance of winning the race.
Meanwhile the spectators, in their nondescript tattered garments,
stood breathlessly watching this wonderful scene.
'For long intervals we remained almost spell-bound, and then
a burst of frenzied cheering broke out. It seemed to us almost
too good to be real. By eleven o'clock all the thick ice had
vanished, and there remained only the thin area of decayed floe
which has lately made the approach to the ships so dangerous;
a few minutes later the Terra Nova forged ahead and came crashing
into the open, to be followed almost immediately by her stout
little companion, and soon both ships were firmly anchored to
all that remains of the Discovery's prison, the wedge that still
holds in our small bay....
'And so to-night the ships of our small fleet are lying almost
side by side; a rope from the Terra Nova is actually secured to
the Discovery. Who could have thought it possible? Certainly not
we who have lived through the trying scenes of the last month.'
The small wedge of sea-ice that still remained in the bay was
cracked in many places, and would doubtless have departed of
its own accord in a few days; but Scott, naturally impatient to
get away, decided to hasten matters by explosions. Consequently
at 1 A.M. on February 16 there was an explosion which shook the
whole bay, and rudely disturbed not only the ice but also the
slumbers of those who were not members of the explosion party.
A few hours later another explosive charge was borne out, and
when all was ready Scott pressed the firing key. 'There was a
thunderous report which shook the ship throughout, and then all
was calm again. For a brief moment one might have imagined that
nothing had happened, but then one saw that each crack was slowly
widening; presently there came the gurgle of water as it was
sucked into our opening ice-bed, and in another minute there
was a creaking aft and our stern rose with a jump as the keel
was freed from the ice which had held it down. Then, as the great
mass of ice on our port hand slowly glided out to sea, our good
ship swung gently round and lay peacefully riding to her anchors
with the blue water lapping against her sides.... Thus it was
that the Discovery came to her own again--the right to ride the
high seas.'
On that day it would have been impossible to find a prouder or
happier ship's company, but with all their feelings of elation
they did not imagine that everything would run smoothly after
such a long period of disuse, and they knew also that much hard
work lay in front of them if they were to carry out the remainder
of their program. If the Discovery was free before the navigable
season closed Scott had resolved to spend the remaining time
in exploring the region to the westward of Cape North, but now
after two years' imprisonment coal was lacking for such a scheme.
Directly the relief ships had arrived he had asked them for as
great a quantity as possible, but although the replies had at
first been satisfactory, a long month's fight with wind and ice
had sadly reduced the amount they could afford to give. The only
thing to do was to get without any delay what could be spared, and
on the afternoon of the 16th the Terra Nova came alongside to hand
over her supply. 'The afternoon,' Scott says, 'was beautifully
calm and bright, and the weather seemed to smile peacefully on
the termination of our long and successful struggle with the
ice.... We little guessed what lay before us.'
On the 15th a large wooden cross, bearing a simply carved
inscription to the memory of poor Vince, was erected on the summit
of Hut Point, and on the following day the small company landed
together and stood bareheaded round this memorial, while Scott
read some short prayers.
The water was oily calm and the sky threatening as they pulled
back to the ship after paying this last tribute of homage to
their shipmate, but weather of this kind had been too common
to attract attention. On that night Captain MacKay was dining
in the Discovery for the first time, and a great effort had been
made to show him how good an Antarctic feast could be. In the
middle of dinner, however, word came down to Scott that the wind
had sprung up, and although he expected nothing serious he went
up to see what was happening. Then he saw they were in for a
stiff blow, and reluctantly had to inform his guests of the fact.
One glance at the sky satisfied MacKay, who was over the rail
like a shot, and in a few minutes the Terra Nova was steaming
for the open and lost in the drift. '
[Illustration: The 'Terra Nova' leaving the Antarctic.]
Very soon both wind and sea had risen, but although Scott did
not altogether like the look of things and determined to get up
steam as soon as possible, he did not want to hurry those in the
engine-room after such a long period of disuse. But early in the
morning of the 17th the situation became really dangerous, and
the Discovery began to jerk at her cables in the most alarming
manner.
'I knew,' he wrote on the night of that eventful day, 'that in
spite of our heavy anchor the holding ground was poor, and I
watched anxiously to see if the ship dragged.
'It came at last, just as Skelton sent a promise of steam in
half an hour. The sea was again breaking heavily on the ice-foot
astern and I walked up and down wondering which was coming first,
the steam or this wave-beaten cliff. It was not a pleasant
situation, as the distance grew shorter every minute, until
the spray of the breaking waves fell on our poop, and this was
soon followed by a tremendous blow as our stern struck the ice.
We rebounded and struck again, and our head was just beginning
to falloff and the ship to get broadside on (heaven knows what
would have happened then) when steam was announced.'
Then the ship just held her own and only just; the engines alone
would not send her to windward in the teeth of the gale. Once
around Hut Point, Scott knew that they would be safe with open
sea before them; and the end of the Point was only a quarter
of a mile out, though off the end there was a shallow patch which
had to be cleared before safety could be reached. So finding
that no headway was being made he began to edge out towards the
Point, and all seemed well until, nearly opposite to the Point
itself, he saw to his alarm that a strong current was sweeping
past.
'Nothing remained but to make a dash for it, and I swung the helm
over and steered for the open. But the moment our bows entered the
fast-running stream we were swung round like a top, and the instant
after we crashed head foremost onto the shoal and stopped dead with
our masts shivering. We were in the worst possible position, dead
to windward of the bank with wind, sea, and current all tending to
set us faster ashore.
'We took the shore thus at about 11 A.M., and the hours that
followed were truly the most dreadful I have ever spent. Each
moment the ship came down with a sickening thud which shook her
from stem to stern, and each thud seemed to show more plainly
that, strong as was her build, she could not long survive such
awful blows.'
Hour after hour passed while the ship quivered and trembled and
crashed again and again into her rocky bed. Nothing more could be
done for her until the gale abated, but seeing the impossibility
of doing anything at the time, Scott recognized that the next
best thing was to be prepared to act promptly when the weather
moderated. Then he discovered once more how absolutely he could
rely on the support and intelligence of his companions. Skelton
already had made a list of weights by the removal of which the
ship could be lightened, and when the boatswain was summoned
to discuss the manner in which the anchors could be laid out he
also had his scheme cut and dried.
The first sign of a lull came at 7 P.M., and soon after they
assembled to the dreariest dinner ever remembered in the Discovery.
But when they were half-way through this silent meal Mulock, the
officer of the watch, suddenly burst in and said, 'The ship's
working astern, sir.'
In record time Scott reached the bridge, and found that both
wind and sea had dropped in the most extraordinary manner. But
what surprised him even more was that the current, which had
been running strongly to the north, had turned and was running
with equal speed to the south. Each time that the ship lifted
on a wave she worked two or three inches astern, and though she
was still grinding heavily she no longer struck the bottom with
such terrific force. Scarcely, however, had these facts been
observed when Skelton rushed up to say that the inlets were free
again.
'Every soul was on deck and in a moment they were massed together
and running from side to side in measured time. The telegraphs
were put full speed astern; soon the engines began to revolve,
and the water foamed and frothed along the side. For a minute or
two the ship seemed to hesitate, but then there came a steady
grating under the bottom, which gradually traveled forward, and
ceased as the ship, rolling heavily, slid gently into deep water....
Rarely, if ever, can a ship have appeared in such an uncomfortable
plight as ours to find herself free and safe within the space
of an hour.... To be in ten feet of water in a ship that draws
fourteen feet cannot be a pleasant position--nor can there be
a doubt that the shocks which the Discovery sustained would have
very seriously damaged a less stoutly built vessel.'
None too soon were they clear of the shoal, for in a very short
time the wind was again blowing from the south; but as, on the
18th, the wind though still blowing strong had gone round to the
southeast and brought smoother water in the Sound, it was decided
to make for the inlets of the glacier tongue to the north, and
complete the coaling operations.
On occasions when haste was necessary there was, by mutual consent,
no distinction between officers and men. And Scott mentions 'as
a sight for the gods' the scene of biologists, vertebrate zoologists,
lieutenants, and A.B.'s with grimed faces and chafed hands working
with all their might on the coaling whips.
The Morning handed over twenty-five tons of coal, and this was
all the more a generous gift since it reduced Colbeck to the
narrowest margin, and compelled him to return directly homeward
without joining in any attempt at further exploration. 'His
practical common sense told him he could be of little use to
us, and with his usual loyalty he never hesitated to act for
the best, at whatever sacrifice to his own hopes and wishes.'
Before they left the glacier in McMurdo Sound it was arranged
that the three ships should journey up the coast together and
then separate, the Morning proceeding to the north, while the
Discovery and the Terra Nova turned west. The companies of both
Relief ships, however, expressed a strong desire to be with the
Discovery when she entered her first civilized port; so Scott
fixed upon Port Ross, in the Auckland Islands, as a spot at which
they might meet before the final return to New Zealand.
February 20 saw the Discovery speeding along a stretch of coast
that had been quite unknown until she had two years previously
made her way south along it, and at that time she had been obliged
to keep a long distance out on account of the pack-ice. But now
gaps which had been missed could be filled in; and even more than
this was done, for Mulock remained on deck night and day taking
innumerable angles to peaks and headlands, while Wilson, equally
indefatigable, transferred this long panorama of mountain scenery
to his sketch-book.
Two days later the pumps refused to act, and the whole of the
engine-room staff were on duty for twenty-four hours on end;
and on the 24th the carpenter called attention to the rudder. On
inspection Scott saw that the solid oak rudder-head was completely
shattered, and was held together by little more than its weight;
as the tiller was moved right or left the rudder followed it, but
with a lag of many degrees, so that the connection between the two
was evidently insecure. In such a condition it was obvious that
they could not hope to weather a gale without losing all control
over the ship, and that no time was to be lost in shipping their
spare rudder in place of the damaged one. So Scott determined to
seek shelter in Robertson Bay, and by night the damaged rudder
had been hoisted on deck and the spare one prepared for lowering
into its place. Since the Discovery had left winter quarters an
almost incredible amount of work had been done to bring her into
sea trim. Difficulty after difficulty had arisen, but the energy
of the company had never slackened, and by February 25 Scott was
able to say that everything was once more in order, though he was
a little doubtful about the steering power of their spare rudder.
At this time it was all the more important that the ship should
give no further trouble, because according to their program they
were about to penetrate a new region, and expected to find quite
enough to do without considering internal difficulties. With
high hopes that steam power would enable them to pass beyond the
point reached by Sir James Ross in his sailing ships they turned
to the west, and at first all went well with them. Pack-ice,
however, was destined to be an insuperable obstacle to their
advance, and on the 26th they decided to turn to the north-east
and try to find a way around this formidable barrier. 'It is
grievously disappointing to find the pack so far to the east;
Ross carried the open water almost to Cape North.' And again
on March 1, Scott sounds a note of lamentation: 'There can be
no doubt that since leaving Victoria Land we have been skirting
a continuous mass of pack, which must cover the whole sea south
of the Balleny Islands. That it should have lain so far to the
eastward this year is very annoying; however, if we can push on
upon this course we ought to strike the islands.'
Early in the morning of the following day land was reported, and
by noon they were abreast of it; but what this island, and others
that were dimly to be seen to the north, could be, puzzled them
considerably, and not until some time later was the problem
solved. In 1839 Balleny discovered a group of islands in this
region, and three years later Ross saw land which he imagined
was to the southward of Balleny's discoveries, and believing it
to be divided into three distinct masses named it the Russell
Islands. Consequently Scott arrived expecting to see two groups
of islands, and was naturally perplexed when only one group was
to be seen. After, however, studying the accounts of these islands
and comparing them with what he could actually see, he recognized
that they had just passed Balleny's Sturge Island, which Balleny
had seen from the north, and so could have had no idea of its
length in a north-and-south line. Later Ross must have seen this
same island, and, as Scott saw to be quite possible, from a great
distance must have thought that it was divided into three, and
hence made the mistake of naming it as a separate group.
Fortunately Mulock was able to obtain sufficient bearings to
fix accurately the position of each island.
Now that the knotty question as to the geography of the Balleny
Islands was settled, they went on to look for the land that Wilkes
claimed to have discovered in 1840, but not a glimpse nor a vestige
of it could they see; and, on March 4, they had to conclude that
Wilkes Land was once and for all definitely disposed of. With
this negative, but nevertheless important, result, the exploring
work ended, and although a lack of coal had prevented their
cherished plan of rounding Cape North, they had at least the
satisfaction of clearing up some geographical misconceptions
in a more northerly latitude.
From the 6th to the 14th continuous gales brought conditions of
greater physical discomfort than had ever been experienced on
board the Discovery, for she was in very light trim and tossed
about the mountainous seas like a cork. It was, therefore, the
greatest relief to furl their sails off the entrance of Ross
Harbor on the 15th, and to steam into the calm waters of the Bay.
Neither the Terra Nova nor the Morning had yet arrived, and the
days of waiting were spent in making their ship as smart as possible
before the eyes of the multitude gazed upon her. Thus, in a few
days, the Discovery looked as though she had spent her adventurous
years in some peaceful harbor.
On March 19 the Terra Nova hove in sight, and was followed on
the next day by the Morning. Both ships had experienced the most
terrible weather, and everyone on board the little Morning declared
that she had only been saved from disaster by the consummate
seamanship of Captain Colbeck.
A few days later the small fleet again set sail, and after a most
favorable voyage was at daybreak on April 1 off the Heads of
Lyttelton Harbor; and before noon they were safely berthed alongside
the jetty, from which they had sailed with such hearty wishes
more than two years before.
'New Zealand,' Scott said, 'welcomed us as its own, and showered
on us a wealth of hospitality and kindness which assuredly we can
never forget, however difficult we may have found it to express
our thanks. In these delightful conditions, with everything that
could make for perfect rest and comfort, we abode for two full
months before we set out on our last long voyage.'
June 8, however, found them at sea again, and a month or so later
they anchored in Port Stanley (Falkland Islands), where they
replenished their stock of coal and took the last series of magnetic
observations in connection with their Southern Survey. And from
the Falkland Islands, Scott wrote a letter which is yet another
testimony of the admiration he felt for his companions. 'The
praise,' he wrote, 'for whatever success we have had is really
due to the ship's company as a whole rather than to individuals.
That is not very clear, perhaps; what I mean is that the combination
of individual effort for the common good has achieved our results,
and the absence of any spirit of self-seeking. The motto throughout
has been "share and share alike," and its most practical form
lies, perhaps, in the fact that throughout our three years there
has been no distinction between the food served to officers and men.
Under these circumstances I naturally feel that I can claim no
greater share of achievement than those who have stood by me so
loyally, and so I regard myself merely as the lucky figure-head.
'But it is good news to hear that the Admiralty are sympathetic,
for I feel that no effort should be spared to gain their recognition
of the splendid qualities displayed by officers and men.'
Early on the morning of September 9 the homeland was sighted,
and for those who gazed longingly over the bulwarks and waited to
welcome and be welcomed, there was only one cloud to dim the joy
of their return. For with the happiness came also the sad thought
that the end had come to those ties, which had held together the
small band of the Discovery in the closest companionship and most
unswerving loyalty.
THE LAST EXPEDITION
PREFACE TO 'SCOTT'S LAST EXPEDITION'
By SIR CLEMENTS R MARKHAM, K.C.B.
Fourteen years ago Robert Falcon Scott was a rising naval officer,
able, accomplished, popular, highly thought of by his superiors,
and devoted to his noble profession. It was a serious responsibility
to induce him to take up the work of an explorer; yet no man
living could be found who was so well fitted to command a great
Antarctic Expedition. The undertaking was new and unprecedented.
The object was to explore the unknown Antarctic Continent by
land. Captain Scott entered upon the enterprise with enthusiasm
tempered by prudence and sound sense. All had to be learnt by a
thorough study of the history of Arctic traveling, combined with
experience of different conditions in the Antarctic Regions. Scott
was the initiator and founder of Antarctic sledge-traveling. His
discoveries were of great importance. The survey and soundings
along the Barrier cliffs, the discovery of King Edward Land, the
discovery of Ross Island and the other volcanic islets, the
examination of the Barrier surface, the discovery of the Victoria
Mountains--a range of great height and many hundreds of miles
in length, which had only before been seen from a distance out
at sea--and above all the discovery of the great ice cap on which
the South Pole is situated, by one of the most remarkable Polar
journeys on record. His small but excellent scientific staff
worked hard and with trained intelligence, their results being
recorded in twelve large quarto volumes.
The great discoverer had no intention of losing touch with his
beloved profession though resolved to complete his Antarctic work.
The exigencies of the naval service called him to the command of
battleships and to confidential work of the Admiralty; so that
five years elapsed before he could resume his Antarctic labors.
The object of Captain Scott's second expedition was mainly
scientific, to complete and extend his former work in all branches
of science. It was his ambition that in his ship there should be
the most completely equipped expedition for scientific purposes
connected with the Polar regions, both as regards men and material,
that ever left these shores. In this he succeeded. He had on
board a fuller complement of geologists, one of them especially
trained for the study, of physiography, biologists, physicists,
and surveyors than ever before composed the staff of a Polar
expedition. Thus Captain Scott's objects were strictly scientific,
including the completion and extension of his former discoveries.
The results will be explained in the second volume of this work.
They will be found to be extensive and important. Never before,
in the Polar regions, have meteorological, magnetic and tidal
observations been taken, in one locality, during five years. It
was also part of Captain Scott's plan to reach the South Pole by
a long and most arduous journey, but here again his intention
was, if possible, to achieve scientific results on the way,
especially hoping to discover fossils which would throw light
on the former history of the great range of mountains which he
had made known to science.
The principal aim of this great man--for he rightly has his niche
among the Polar Dii Majores--was the advancement of knowledge.
From all aspects Scott was among the most remarkable men of our
time, and the vast number of readers of his journal will be deeply
impressed with the beauty of his character. The chief traits
which shone forth through his life were conspicuous in the hour
of death. There are few events in history to be compared, for
grandeur and pathos, with the last closing scene in that silent
wilderness of snow. The great leader, with the bodies of his
dearest friends beside him, wrote and wrote until the pencil
dropped from his dying grasp. There was no thought of himself,
only the earnest desire to give comfort and consolation to others
in their sorrow. His very last lines were written lest he who
induced him to enter upon Antarctic work should now feel regret
for what he had done.
'If I cannot write to Sir Clements, tell him I thought much of him,
and never regretted his putting me in command of the Discovery.'
* * * * *
The following appointments were held in the Royal Navy by Captain
Scott between 1905 and 1910:
January to July, 1906 Admiralty (Assistant Director
of Naval Intelligence.)
Aug. 21, 1906, to Jan. 1, 1907 Victorious (Flag Captain to
Rear-Admiral Egerton, Rear-Admiral
in the Atlantic Fleet).
Jan. 2, 1907, to Aug. 24, 1907 Albermarle (Flag Captain to
Rear-Admiral Egerton, Rear-Admiral
in the Atlantic Fleet).
Aug. 25, 1907, to Jan. 24, 1908 Not actively employed afloat
between these dates.
Jan. 25, 1908, to May 29, 1908 Essex (Captain).
May 30, 1908, to March 23, 1909 Bulwark (Flag Captain to
Rear-Admiral Colville, Rear-Admiral
the Nore Division, Home Fleet).
Then Naval Assistant to Second Sea Lord of the Admiralty. Appointed
to H.M.S. President for British Antarctic Expedition June 1, 1910.
On September 2, 1908, at Hampton Court Palace, Captain Scott was
married to Kathleen, daughter of the late Canon Lloyd Bruce. Peter
Markham Scott was born on September 14, 1909.
On September 13, 1909, Captain Scott published his plans for
the British Antarctic Expedition of the following year, and his
appeal resulted in £10,000 being collected as a nucleus fund.
Then the Government made a grant of £20,000, and grants followed
from the Governments of Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa.
Nine days after the plans were published arrangements were made
to purchase the steamship Terra Nova, the largest and strongest
of the old Scottish whalers. The original date chosen for sailing
was August 1, 1910, but owing to the united efforts of those engaged
upon the fitting out and stowing of the ship, she was able to leave
Cardiff on June 15. Business, however, prevented Captain Scott from
leaving England until a later date, and in consequence he sailed in
the Saxon to South Africa, and there awaited the arrival of the
Terra Nova.
BRITISH ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION, 1910
SHORE PARTIES
Officers
Name Rank, &c.
Robert Falcon Scott Captain, C.V.O., R.N.
Edward R. G. R. Evans Lieutenant, R.N.
Victor L. A. Campbell Lieutenant, R.N. (Emergency List)
Henry R. Bowers Lieutenant, R.I.M.
Lawrence E. G. Oates Captain 6th Inniskilling Dragoons.
G. Murray Levick Surgeon, R.N.
Edward L. Atkinson Surgeon, R.N., Parasitologist.
Scientific Staff
Edward Adrian Wilson B.A., M.B. (Cantab), Chief of the
Scientific Staff, and Zoologist.
George C. Simpson D.Sc., Meteorologist.
T. Griffith Taylor B.A., B.Sc., B.E., Geologist.
Edward W. Nelson Biologist
Frank Debenham B.A., B.Sc., Geologist.
Charles S. Wright B.A., Physicist.
Raymond E. Priestley Geologist.
Herbert G. Ponting F.R.G.S, Camera Artist.
Cecil H. Meares In Charge of Dogs.
Bernard C. Day Motor Engineer.
Apsley Cherry-Garrard B.A., Asst. Zoologist.
Tryggve Gran Sub-Lieutenant, Norwegian N.R.,
B.A., Ski Expert.
Men
W. Lashly Chief Stoker, R.N.
W. W. Archer Chief Steward, late R.N.
Thomas Clissold Cook, late R.N.
Edgar Evans Petty Officer, R.N.
Robert Forde Petty Officer, R.N.
Thomas Crean Petty Officer, R.N.
Thomas S. Williamson Petty Officer, R.N.
Patrick Keohane Petty Officer, R.N.
George P. Abbott Petty Officer, R.N.
Frank V. Browning Petty Officer, 2nd class, R.N.
Harry Dickason Able Seaman, R.N.
F. J. Hooper Steward, late R.N.
Anton Omelchenko Groom.
Demetri Gerof Dog Driver.
SHIP'S PARTY
Officers, &c.
Harry L. L. Pennell Lieutenant, R.N.
Henry E. de P. Rennick Lieutenant, R.N.
Wilfred M. Bruce Lieutenant, R.N.R.
Francis R. H. Drake Asst. Paymaster, R.N. (Retired),
Secretary and Meteorologist in Ship.
Denis G. Lillie M.A., Biologist in Ship.
James R. Dennistoun In Charge of Mules in Ship.
Alfred B. Cheetham R.N.R., Boatswain.
William Williams Chief Engine-room Artificer, R.N.,
2nd Engineer.
William A. Horton Eng. Rm. Art. 3rd Class, R.N. 2nd Engineer.
Francis E. C. Davies Leading Shipwright, R.N.
Frederick Parsons Petty Officer, R.N.
William L. Heald Late P.O., R.N.
Arthur S. Bailey Petty Officer, 2nd Class, R.N.
Albert Balson Leading Seaman, R.N.
Joseph Leese Able Seaman, R.N.
John Hugh Mather Petty Officer, R.N.V.R.
Robert Oliphant Able Seaman.
Thomas F. McLeod Able Seaman.
Mortimer McCarthy Able Seaman.
William Knowles Able Seaman.
Charles Williams Able Seaman.
James Skelton Able Seaman.
William McDonald Able Seaman.
James Paton Able Seaman.
Robert Brissenden Leading Stoker, R.N.
Edward A. McKenzie Leading Stoker, R.N.
William Burton Leading Stoker, R.N.
Bernard J. Stone Leading Stoker, R.N.
Angus McDonald Fireman.
Thomas McGillon Fireman.
Charles Lammas Fireman.
W. H. Neale Steward.
CHAPTER I
THROUGH STORMY SEAS
The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound.
--COLERIDGE.
No sooner was it known that Scott intended to lead another Antarctic
expedition than he was besieged by men anxious to go with him. The
selection of a small company from some eight thousand volunteers
was both a difficult and a delicate task, but the fact that the
applications were so numerous was at once a convincing proof of
the interest shown in the expedition, and a decisive answer to
the dismal cry that the spirit of romance and adventure no longer
exists in the British race.
On June 15, 1910, the Terra Nova left Cardiff upon her great
mission, and after a successful voyage arrived, on October 28,
at Lyttelton. There an enormous amount of work had to be done
before she could be ready to leave civilization, but as usual
the kindness received in New Zealand was 'beyond words.'
A month of strenuous labor followed, and then, on November 26, they
said farewell to Lyttelton, and after calling at Port Chalmers set
out on Tuesday, the 29th, upon the last stage of their voyage. Two
days later they encountered a stiff wind from the N. W. and a
confused sea.
'The ship a queer and not altogether cheerful sight under the
circumstances.
'Below one knows all space is packed as tight as human skill can
devise--and on deck! Under the forecastle fifteen ponies close
side by side, seven one side, eight the other, heads together
and groom between--swaying, swaying continually to the plunging,
irregular motion.'
Outside the forecastle and to leeward of the fore hatch were four
more ponies, and on either side of the main hatch were two very
large packing-cases containing motor sledges, each 16 X 5 X 4.
A third sledge stood across the break of the poop in the space
hitherto occupied by the after winch, and all these cases were
so heavily lashed with heavy chain and rope lashings that they
were thought to be quite secure. The petrol for the sledges was
contained in tins and drums protected in stout wooden packing-cases,
which were ranged across the deck immediately in front of the
poop and abreast the motor sledges.
Round and about these packing-cases, stretching from the galley
forward to the wheel aft, coal bags containing the deck cargo of
coal were stacked; and upon the coal sacks, and upon and between
the motor sledges, and upon the ice-house were the thirty-three
dogs. Perforce they had to be chained up, and although they were
given as much protection as possible, their position was far
from pleasant. 'The group formed,' in Scott's opinion, 'a picture
of wretched dejection: such a life is truly hard for these poor
creatures.'
The wind freshened with great rapidity on Thursday evening, and
very soon the ship was plunging heavily and taking much water
over the lee rail. Cases of all descriptions began to break
loose on the upper deck, the principal trouble being caused by
the loose coal bags, which were lifted bodily by the seas and
swung against the lashed cases. These bags acted like battering
rams, no lashings could possibly have withstood them, and so the
only remedy was to set to work and heave coal sacks overboard and
re-lash the cases. During this difficult and dangerous task seas
continually broke over the men, and at such times they had to
cling for dear life to some fixture to prevent themselves from
being washed overboard. No sooner was some appearance of order
restored than another unusually heavy wave tore away the lashings,
and the work had to be done allover again.
As the night wore on the sea and wind continued to rise, and the
ship to plunge more and more. 'We shortened sail to main topsail
and staysail, stopped engines and hove to, but to little purpose.'
From Oates and Atkinson, who worked through the entire night,
reports came that it was impossible to keep the ponies on their
legs. But worse news was to follow, for in the early morning
news came from the engine-room that the pumps had choked, and
that the water had risen over the gratings.
From that moment, about 4 A.M., the engine-room became the center
of interest, but in spite of every effort the water still gained.
Lashly and Williams, up to their necks in rushing water, stuck
gamely to the work of clearing suctions, and for a time, with
donkey engine and bilge pump sucking, it looked as if the water
might be got under. But the hope was short-lived; five minutes
of pumping invariably led to the same result--a general choking
of the pumps.
The ship was very deeply-laden and was in considerable danger
of becoming waterlogged, in which condition anything might have
happened. The hand pump produced nothing more than a dribble
and its suction could not be reached, for as the water crept
higher it got in contact with the boiler and eventually became
so hot that no one could work at the suctions. A great struggle
to conquer these misfortunes followed, but Williams had at last
to confess that he was beaten and must draw fires.
'What was to be done? Things for the moment appeared very black.
The sea seemed higher than ever; it came over lee rail and poop,
a rush of green water; the ship wallowed in it; a great piece of
the bulwark carried clean away. The bilge pump is dependent on
the main engine. To use the pump it was necessary to go ahead.
It was at such times that the heaviest seas swept in over the
lee rail; over and over again the rail, from the forerigging
to the main, was covered by a solid sheet of curling water which
swept aft and high on the poop. On one occasion I was waist deep
when standing on the rail of the poop.'
All that could be done for the time being was to organize the
afterguard to work buckets, and to keep the men steadily going on
the choked hand-pumps, which practically amounted to an attempt
to bale out the ship! For a day and a night the string of buckets
was passed up a line from the engine-room; and while this arduous
work was going on the officers and men sang chanteys, and never
for a moment lost their good spirits.
In the meantime an effort was made to get at the suction of the
pumps; and by 10 P.M. on Friday evening a hole in the engine-room
bulkhead had been completed. Then E. R. Evans, wriggling over the
coal, found his way to the pump shaft and down it, and cleared
the suction of the coal balls (a mixture of coal and oil) which
were choking it. Soon afterwards a good stream of water came
from the pump, and it was evident that the main difficulty had
been overcome. Slowly the water began to decrease in the
engine-room, and by 4 A.M. on Saturday morning the bucket-parties
were able to stop their labors.
The losses caused by this gale were serious enough, but they
might easily have been worse. Besides the damage to the bulwarks
of the ship, two ponies, one dog, ten tons of coal, sixty-five
gallons of petrol, and a case of biologists' spirit were lost.
Another dog was washed away with such force that his chain broke
and he disappeared, but the next wave miraculously washed him
back on board. In a few hours everyone was hopeful again, but
anxiety on account of the ponies remained. With the ship pitching
heavily to a south-westerly swell, at least two of these
long-suffering animals looked sadly in need of a spell of rest,
and Scott's earnest prayer was that there might be no more gales.
'December ought to be a fine month in the Ross Sea; it always
has been, and just now conditions point to fine weather. Well,
we must be prepared for anything, but I'm anxious, anxious about
these animals of ours.'
Meanwhile Bowers and Campbell had worked untiringly to put things
straight on deck, and with the coal removed from the upper deck
and the petrol re-stored, the ship was in much better condition
to fight the gales. 'Another day,' Scott wrote on Tuesday, December
6, 'ought to put us beyond the reach of westerly gales'; but two
days later the ship was once more plunging against a stiff breeze
and moderate sea, and his anxiety about the ponies was greater
than ever. The dogs, however, had recovered wonderfully from the
effects of the great gale, their greatest discomfort being that
they were almost constantly wet.
During Friday, December 9, some very beautiful bergs were passed,
the heights of which varied from sixty to eighty feet. Good progress
was made during this day, but the ice streams thickened as they
advanced, and on either side of them fields of pack began to
appear. Yet, after the rough weather they had been having, the
calm sea was a blessing even if the ice had arrived before it was
expected. 'One can only imagine the relief and comfort afforded
to the ponies, but the dogs are visibly cheered and the human
element is full of gaiety. The voyage seems full of promise in
spite of the imminence of delay.'
Already Scott was being worried by the pace at which the coal
was going, and he determined if the pack became thick to put
out the fires and wait for the ice to open. Very carefully all
the evidence of former voyages had been examined so that the
best meridian to go south on might be chosen, and the conclusion
arrived at was that the 178 W. was the best. They entered the
pack more or less on this meridian, and were rewarded by meeting
worse conditions than any ship had ever experienced--worse, indeed,
than Scott imagined to be possible on any meridian which they
might have chosen. But as very little was known about the movements
of the pack the difficulties of making a choice may very easily be
imagined, and, in spite of disappointments, Scott's opinion that
the 178 W. was the best meridian did not change. 'The situation
of the main bodies of pack,' he says, 'and the closeness with
which the floes are packed depend almost entirely on the prevailing
winds. One cannot tell what winds have prevailed before one's
arrival; therefore one cannot know much about the situation or
density. Within limits the density is changing from day to day
and even from hour to hour; such changes depend on the wind,
but it may not necessarily be a local wind, so that at times
they seem almost mysterious. One sees the floes pressing closely
against one another at a given time, and an hour or two afterwards
a gap of a foot or more may be seen between each. When the floes
are pressed together it is difficult and sometimes impossible
to force a way through, but when there is release of pressure
the sum of many little gaps allows one to take a zigzag path.'
During Sunday they lay tight in the pack, and after service at
10 A.M. all hands exercised themselves on ski over the floes and
got some delightful exercise. 'I have never thought of anything
as good as this life. The novelty, interest, color, animal life,
and good fellowship go to make up an almost ideal picnic just at
present,' one of the company wrote on that same day--an abundant
proof that if delays came they brought their compensations with
them.
With rapid and complete changes of prospect they managed to
progress--on the Monday--with much bumping and occasional stoppages,
but on the following day they were again firmly and tightly wedged
in the pack. To most of them, however, the novelty of the experience
prevented any sense of impatience, though to Scott the strain of
waiting and wondering what he ought to do as regards the question
of coal was bound to be heavy.
This time of waiting was by no means wasted, for Gran gave hours
of instruction in the use of ski, and Meares took out some of
the fattest dogs and exercised them with a sledge. Observations
were also constantly taken, while Wilson painted some delightful
pictures and Ponting took a number of beautiful photographs of
the pack and bergs. But as day followed day and hopes of progress
were not realized, Scott, anxious to be free, decided on Monday,
December 19, to push west. 'Anything to get out of these terribly
heavy floes. Great patience is the only panacea for our ill case.
It is bad luck.'
Over and over again when the end of their troubles seemed to be
reached, they found that the thick pack was once more around
them. And what to do under the circumstances called for most
difficult decisions. If the fires were let out it meant a dead
loss of two tons of coal when the boilers were again heated.
But these two tons only covered a day under banked fires, so
that for anything longer than twenty-four hours it was a saving
to put out the fires. Thus at each stoppage Scott was called
upon to decide how long it was likely to last.
Christmas Day came with the ice still surrounding the ship, but
although the scene was 'altogether too Christmassy,' a most merry
evening was spent. For five hours the officers sat round the
table and sang lustily, each one of them having to contribute
two songs to the entertainment. 'It is rather a surprising
circumstance,' Scott remarks, 'that such an unmusical party should
be so keen on singing.'
Christmas, however, came and went without any immediate prospect
of release, the only bright side of this exasperating delay being
that everyone was prepared to exert himself to the utmost, quite
regardless of the results of his labors. But on Wednesday, December
28, the ponies, despite the unremitting care and attention that
Oates gave to them, were the cause of the gravest anxiety. 'These
animals are now the great consideration, balanced as they are
against the coal expenditure.'
By this time, although the ice was still all around them, many
of the floes were quite thin, and even the heavier ice appeared
to be breakable. So, after a consultation with Wilson, Scott
decided to raise steam, and two days later the ship was once
more in the open sea.
From the 9th to the 30th they had been in the pack, and during
this time 370 miles had been covered in a direct line. Sixty-one
tons [Footnote: When the Terra Nova left Lyttelton she had 460
tons of coal on board.] of coal had been used, an average of six
miles to the ton, and although these were not pleasant figures
to contemplate, Scott considered that under the exceptional
conditions they might easily have been worse. For the ship herself
he had nothing but praise to give. 'No other ship, not even the
Discovery, would have come through so well.... As a result I have
grown strangely attached to the Terra Nova. As she bumped the
floes with mighty shocks, crushing and grinding her way through
some, twisting and turning to avoid others, she seemed like a
living thing fighting a great fight. If only she had more economical
engines she would be suitable in all respects.'
Scientifically as much as was possible had been done, but many
of the experts had of necessity been idle in regard to their
own specialties, though none of them were really idle; for those
who had no special work to do were magnificently eager to find
any kind of work that required to be done. 'Everyone strives to
help everyone else, and not a word of complaint or anger has
been heard on board. The inner life of our small community is
very pleasant to think upon, and very wonderful considering the
extremely small space in which we are confined. The attitude
of the men is equally worthy of admiration. In the forecastle
as in the wardroom there is a rush to be first when work is to
be done, and the same desire to sacrifice selfish consideration
to the success of the expedition. It is very good to be able to
write in such high praise of one's companions, and I feel that
the possession of such support ought to ensure success. Fortune
would be in a hard mood indeed if it allowed such a combination
of knowledge, experience, ability, and enthusiasm to achieve
nothing.'
Fortune's wheel, however, was not yet prepared to turn in their
favor, for after a very few hours of the open sea a southern
blizzard met them. In the morning watch of December 31, the wind
and sea increased and the outlook was very distressing, but at
6 A.M. ice was sighted ahead. Under ordinary conditions the safe
course would have been to go about and stand to the east, but
on this occasion Scott was prepared to run the risk of trouble
if he could get the ponies into smoother water. Soon they passed
a stream of ice over which the sea was breaking heavily, and
the danger of being among loose floes in such a sea was acutely
realized. But presently they came to a more compact body of floes,
and running behind this they were agreeably surprised to find
themselves in comparatively smooth water. There they lay to in
a sort of ice bay, and from a dangerous position had achieved
one that was safe as long as their temporary shelter lasted.
As the day passed their protection, though still saving them
from the heavy swell, gradually diminished, but 1910 did not mean
to depart without giving them an Old Year's gift and surprise. 'At
10 P.M. to-night as the clouds lifted to the west a distant but
splendid view of the great mountains was obtained. All were in
sunshine; Sabine and Whewell were most conspicuous--the latter
from this view is a beautiful sharp peak, as remarkable a landmark
as Sabine itself. Mount Sabine was 110 miles away when we saw it.
I believe we could have seen it at a distance of thirty or forty
miles farther--such is the wonderful clearness of the atmosphere.'
The New Year brought better weather with it, and such good progress
was made that by mid-day on Tuesday, January 3, the ship reached
the Barrier five miles east of Cape Crozier. During the voyage
they had often discussed the idea of making their winter station
at this Cape, and the prospect had seemed to become increasingly
fascinating the more they talked of it.
But a great disappointment awaited them, for after one of the
whale boats had been lowered and Scott, Wilson, Griffith Taylor,
Priestley, and E. R. Evans had been pulled towards the shore,
they discovered that the swell made it impossible for them to
land.
'No good!! Alas! Cape Crozier with all its attractions is denied
us.'
On the top of a floe they could see an old Emperor penguin molting
and a young one shedding its down. This was an age and stage of
development of the Emperor chick of which they were ignorant,
but fortune decreed that this chick should be undisturbed. Of
this incident Wilson wrote in his Journal: 'A landing was out
of the question.... But I assure you it was tantalizing to me,
for there, about 6 feet above us on a small dirty piece of the
old bay ice about ten feet square, one living Emperor penguin
chick was standing disconsolately stranded, and close by stood
one faithful old Emperor parent asleep. This young Emperor was
still in the down, a most interesting fact in the bird's life
history at which we had rightly guessed, but which no one had
actually observed before.... This bird would have been a treasure
to me, but we could not risk life for it, so it had to remain
where it was.'
Sadly and reluctantly they had to give up hopes of making their
station at Cape Crozier, and this was all the harder to bear
because every detail of the shore promised well for a wintering
party. There were comfortable quarters for the hut, ice for water
snow for the animals, good slopes for skiing, proximity to the
Barrier and to the rookeries of two types of penguins, good ground
for biological work, a fairly easy approach to the Southern Road
with no chance of being cut off, and so forth. 'It is a thousand
pities to have to abandon such a spot.'
The Discovery's post-office was still standing as erect as when it
had been planted, and comparisons between what was before their
eyes and old photographs showed that no change at all seemed to
have occurred anywhere--a result that in the case of the Barrier
caused very great surprise.
In the meantime all hands were employed in making a running survey,
the program of which was:
Bruce continually checking speed with hand log.
Bowers taking altitudes of objects as they come abeam.
Nelson noting results.
Pennell taking verge plate bearings on bow and quarter.
Cherry-Garrard noting results.
Evans taking verge plate bearings abeam.
Atkinson noting results.
Campbell taking distances abeam with range finder.
Wright noting results.
Rennick sounding with Thomson machine.
Drake noting results.
We plotted the Barrier edge from the point at which we met it to
the Crozier cliffs; to the eye it seems scarcely to have changed
since Discovery days, and Wilson thinks it meets the cliff in
the same place.'
Very early on Wednesday morning they rounded Cape Bird and came
in sight of Mount Discovery and the Western Mountains. 'It was
good to see them again, and perhaps after all we are better this
side of the Island. It gives one a homely feeling to see such
a familiar scene.' Scott's great wish now was to find a place
for winter quarters that would not easily be cut off from the
Barrier, and a cape, which in the, Discovery days had been called
'the Skuary,' was chosen. 'It was separated from old Discovery
quarters by two deep bays on either side of the Glacier Tongue,
and I thought that these bays would remain frozen until late in
the season, and that when they froze over again the ice would
soon become firm.'
There Scott, Wilson, and E. R. Evans landed, and at a glance saw,
as they expected, that the place was ideal for their wintering
station. A spot for the hut was chosen on a beach facing northwest
and well protected behind by numerous small hills; but the most
favorable circumstance of all in connection with this cape, which
was re-christened Cape Evans, was the strong chance of communication
being established at an early date with Cape Armitage. [Footnote:
The extreme south point of the Island, 12 miles further, on one
of whose minor headlands, Hut Point, stood the Discovery hut.]
Not a moment was wasted, and while Scott was on shore Campbell
took the first steps towards landing the stores.
Fortunately the weather was gloriously calm and fine, and the
landing began under the happiest conditions. Two of the motors
were soon hoisted out, and in spite of all the bad weather and
the tons of sea-water that had washed over them the sledges and
all the accessories appeared to be in perfect condition. Then
came the turn of the ponies, and although it was difficult to
make some of them enter the horse box, Oates rose to the occasion
and got most of them in by persuasion, while the ones which refused
to be persuaded were simply lifted in by the sailors. 'Though all
are thin and some few looked pulled down I was agreeably surprised
at the evident vitality which they still possessed--some were even
skittish. I cannot express the relief when the whole seventeen were
safely picketed on the floe.'
Meares and the dogs were out early on the Wednesday morning,
and ran to and fro during most of the day with light loads. The
chief trouble with the dogs was due to the fatuous conduct of
the penguins, the latter showing a devouring curiosity in the
proceedings and a total disregard for their own safety, with the
result that a number of them were killed in spite of innumerable
efforts to teach the penguins to keep out of reach, they only
squawked and ducked as much as to say, 'What's it got to do with
you, you silly ass? Let us alone.' These incidents naturally
demoralized the dogs and annoyed Meares, who while trying to stop
one sledge, fell into the middle of the dogs and was carried along
until they reached the penguins of their desire.
The motor sledges were running by the afternoon, Day managing
one and Nelson the other. 'It is early to call them a success,
but they are certainly extremely promising.' Before night the
site for the hut was leveled, and the erecting party was encamped
on shore in a large tent with a supply of food for eight days.
Nearly all the timber, &c., for the hut and a supply of food
for both ponies and dogs had also been landed.
Despite this most strenuous day's labor, all hands were up again
at 5 A.M. on Thursday.
'Words cannot express the splendid way in which everyone works
and gradually the work gets organized. I was a little late on the
scene this morning, and thereby witnessed a most extraordinary
scene. Some six or seven killer whales, old and young, were skirting
the fast floe edge ahead of the ship; they seemed excited and dived
rapidly, almost touching the floe. As we watched, they suddenly
appeared astern, raising their snouts out of water. I had heard
weird stories of these beasts, but had never associated serious
danger with them. Close to the water's edge lay the wire stern
rope of the ship, and our two Esquimaux dogs were tethered to
this. I did not think of connecting the movements of the whales
with this fact, and seeing them so close I shouted to Ponting,
who was standing abreast of the ship. He seized his camera and
ran towards the floe edge to get a close picture of the beasts,
which had momentarily disappeared. The next moment the whole
floe under him and the dogs heaved up and split into fragments.
One could hear the "booming" noise as the whales rose under the
ice and struck it with their backs. Whale after whale rose under
the ice, setting it rocking fiercely; luckily Ponting kept his
feet and was able to fly to security; by an extraordinary chance
also, the splits had been made around and between the dogs, so
that neither of them fell into the water. Then it was clear that
the whales shared our astonishment, for one after another their
huge hideous heads shot vertically into the air through the cracks
which they had made... There cannot be a doubt that they looked
up to see what had happened to Ponting and the dogs....
'Of course, we have known well that killer whales continually
skirt the edge of the floes and that they would undoubtedly snap
up anyone who was unfortunate enough to fall into the water; but
the facts that they could display such deliberate cunning, that
they were able to break ice of such thickness (at least 2-1/2
feet), and that they could act in unison, were a revelation to
us. It is clear that they are endowed with singular intelligence,
and in future we shall treat that intelligence with every respect.'
On Thursday the motor sledges did good work, and hopes that they
might prove to be reliable began to increase. Infinite trouble
had been taken to obtain the most suitable material for Polar
work, and the three motor sledge tractors were the outcome of
experiments made at Lantaret in France and at Lillehammer and
Fefor in Norway, with sledges built by the Wolseley Motor Company
from suggestions offered principally by B. T. Hamilton, R. W.
Skelton, and Scott himself. With his rooted objection to cruelty
in any shape or form, Scott had an intense, and almost pathetic,
desire that these sledges should be successful; over and over
again he expressed his hopes and fears of them.
With ponies, motor sledges, dogs, and men parties working hard,
the transportation progressed rapidly on the next two days, the
only drawback being that the ice was beginning to get thin in the
cracks and on some of the floes. Under these circumstances the
necessity for wasting no time was evident, and so on the Sunday
the third motor was got out and placed on the ice, and Scott,
leaving Campbell to find the best crossing for the motor, started
for the shore with a single man load.
Soon after the motor had been brought out Campbell ordered that
it should be towed on to the firm ice, because the ice near the
ship was breaking up. And then, as they were trying to rush the
machine over the weak place, Williamson suddenly went through;
and while he was being hauled out the ice under the motor was
seen to give, and slowly the machine went right through and
disappeared. The men made strenuous efforts to keep hold of the
rope, but it cut through the ice towards them with an increasing
strain, and one after another they were obliged to let go. Half
a minute later nothing remained but a big hole, and one of the
two best motors was lying at the bottom of the sea.
The ice, too, was hourly becoming more dangerous, and it was
clear that those who were on shore were practically cut off from
the ship. So in the evening Scott went to the ice-edge farther to
the north, and found a place where the ship could come and be near
ice heavy enough for sledding. Then he semaphored directions to
Pennell, and on the following morning the ship worked her way
along the ice-edge to the spot that had been chosen.
A good solid road was formed right up to the ship, and again
the work of transportation went on with the greatest energy. In
this Bowers proved 'a perfect treasure,' there was not a single
case he did not know nor a single article on which he could not
at once place his hand, and every case as it came on shore was
checked by him.
On Tuesday night, January 10, after six days in McMurdo Sound,
the landing was almost completed, and early in the afternoon of
Thursday a message was sent from the ship that nothing remained on
board except mutton, books, pictures, and the pianola. 'So at last
we really are a self-contained party ready for all emergencies. We
are LANDED eight days after our arrival--a very good record.'
CHAPTER II
DEPÔT LAYING TO ONE TON CAMP
And the deed of high endeavour
Was no more to the favoured few.
But brain and heart were the measure
Of what every man might do.
--RENNELL RODD.
While the landing was being carried out, the building party had
worked so rapidly that, if necessity had arisen, the hut could
have been inhabited by the 12th; at the same time another small
party had been engaged in making a cave in the ice which was to
serve as a larder, and this strenuous work continued until the
cave was large enough to hold all the mutton, and a considerable
quantity of seal and penguin. Close to this larder Simpson and
Wright were busy in excavating for the differential magnetic hut.
In every way indeed such good progress had been made that Scott
could begin to think about the depôt journey. The arrangements
of this he discussed with Bowers, to whose grasp of the situation
he gives the highest praise. 'He enters into one's idea's at once,
and evidently thoroughly understands the principles of the game.'
Of these arrangements Wilson wrote in his journal: 'He (Scott)
wants me to be a driver with himself, Meares, and Teddie Evans,
and this is what I would have chosen had I had a free choice
of all. The dogs run in two teams and each team wants two men.
It means a lot of running as they are being driven now, but it
is the fastest and most interesting work of all, and we go ahead
of the whole caravan with lighter loads and at a faster rate....
About this time next year may I be there or thereabouts! With so
many young bloods in the heyday of youth and strength beyond my
own I feel there will be a most difficult task in making choice
towards the end and a most keen competition--and a universal lack
of selfishness and self-seeking, with a complete absence of any
jealous feeling in any single one of any of the comparatively
large number who at present stand a chance of being on the last
piece next summer.... I have never been thrown in with a more
unselfish lot of men--each one doing his utmost fair and square
in the most cheery manner possible.'
Sunday, January 15, was observed as a 'day of rest,' and at 10
A.M. the men and officers streamed over from the ship, and Scott
read Divine Service on the beach. Then he had a necessary but
unpalatable task to perform, because some of the ponies had not
fulfilled expectations, and Campbell had to be told that the
two allotted to him must be exchanged for a pair of inferior
animals. At this time the party to be led by Campbell was known
as the Eastern Party, but, owing to the impossibility of landing
on King Edward's Land, they were eventually taken to the north
part of Victoria Land, and thus came to be known as the Northern
Party. Scott's reluctance to make the alteration in ponies is
evident, but in writing of it he says: 'He (Campbell) took it
like the gentleman he is, thoroughly appreciating the reason.'
On that same afternoon Scott and Meares took a sledge and nine
dogs, some provisions, a cooker and sleeping-bags, and started
to Hut Point; but, on their arrival at the old Discovery hut,
a most unpleasant surprise awaited them, for to their chagrin
they found that some of Shackleton's party, who had used the
hut for shelter, had left it in an uninhabitable state.
'There was something too depressing in finding the old hut in such
a desolate condition.... To camp outside and feel that all the old
comfort and cheer had departed, was dreadfully heartrending. I went
to bed thoroughly depressed. It seems a fundamental expression of
civilized human sentiment that men who come to such places as this
should leave what comfort they can to welcome those who follow, and
finding that such a simple duty had been neglected by our immediate
predecessors oppressed me horribly.'
After a bad night they went up the hills, and there Scott found
much less snow than he had ever seen. The ski run was completely
cut through in two places, the Gap and Observation Hill were almost
bare, on the side of Arrival Heights was a great bare slope, and
on the top of Crater Heights was an immense bare tableland. The
paint was so fresh and the inscription so legible on the cross
put up to the memory of Vince that it looked as if it had just
been erected, and although the old flagstaff was down it could
with very little trouble have been put up again. Late in the
afternoon of Monday Scott and Meares returned to Cape Evans,
and on the following day the party took up their abode in the hut.
'The word "hut,"' Scott wrote, 'is misleading. Our residence is
really a house of considerable size, in every respect the finest
that has ever been erected in the Polar regions. The walls and
roof have double thickness of boarding and seaweed insulation
on both sides of the frames. The roof with all its coverings
weighs six tons. The outer shell is wonderfully solid therefore
and the result is extraordinary comfort and warmth inside, whilst
the total weight is comparatively small. It amply repays the
time and attention given to its planning.
'On the south side Bowers has built a long annex, to contain
spare clothing and ready provisions, on the north there is a
solid stable to hold our fifteen ponies in the winter. At present
these animals are picketed on long lines laid on a patch of snow
close by, above them, on a patch of black sand and rock, the
dogs extend in other long lines. Behind them again is a most
convenient slab of hard ice in which we have dug two caverns.
The first is a larder now fully stocked with seals, penguins,
mutton, and beef. The other is devoted to science in the shape
of differential magnetic instruments which will keep a constant
photographic record of magnetic changes. Outside these caverns
is another little hut for absolute magnetic observations, and
above them on a small hill, the dominant miniature peak of the
immediate neighborhood, stand the meteorological instruments
and a flagstaff carrying the Union Jack.
'If you can picture our house nestling below this small hill
on a long stretch of black sand, with many tons of provision
cases ranged in neat blocks in front of it and the sea lapping
the ice-foot below, you will have some idea of our immediate
vicinity. As for our wider surroundings it would be difficult
to describe their beauty in sufficiently glowing terms. Cape
Evans is one of the many spurs of Erebus and the one that stands
closest under the mountain, so that always towering above us we
have the grand snowy peak with its smoking summit. North and
south of us are deep bays, beyond which great glaciers come
rippling over the lower slopes to thrust high blue-walled snouts
into the sea. The sea is blue before us, dotted with shining
bergs or ice floes, whilst far over the Sound, yet so bold and
magnificent as to appear near, stand the beautiful Western
Mountains with their numerous lofty peaks, their deep glacial
valley and clear-cut scarps, a vision of mountain scenery that
can have few rivals.
'Ponting is the most delighted of men; he declares this is the
most beautiful spot he has ever seen, and spends all day and
most of the night in what he calls "gathering it in" with camera
and cinematograph.
'I have told you of the surroundings of our house but nothing of
its internal arrangements. They are in keeping with the dignity
of the mansion.
'The officers (16) have two-thirds of the interior, the men (9)
the remaining third; the dividing line is fixed by a wall of
cases containing things which suffer from being frozen.
'In the officers' quarters there is an immense dark room, and
next it on one side a space devoted to the physicist and his
instruments, and on the other a space devoted to charts,
chronometers and instruments generally.
'I have a tiny half cabin of my own, next this Wilson and Evans
have their beds. On the other side is a space set apart for five
beds, which are occupied by Meares, Oates, Atkinson, Garrard and
Bowers. Taylor, Debenham and Gran have another proportional space
opposite. Nelson and Day have a little cabin of their own with a
bench. Lastly Simpson and Wright occupy beds bordering the space
set apart for their instruments and work. In the center is a
12-foot table with plenty of room for passing behind its chairs....
'To sum up, the arrangements are such that everyone is completely
comfortable and conveniently placed for his work--in fact we
could not be better housed. Of course a good many of us will
have a small enough chance of enjoying the comforts of our home.
We shall be away sledding late this year and off again early
next season, but even for us it will be pleasant to feel that
such comfort awaits our return.'
So in less than a fortnight after the arrival in McMurdo Sound
they had absolutely settled down, and were anxious to start upon
their depôt journey as soon as the ponies had recovered thoroughly
from the effects of the voyage. These autumn journeys, however,
required much thought and preparation, mainly because the prospect
of the parties being cut off from their winter quarters necessitated
a great deal of food being taken both for men and animals. Sledding
gear and wintering boots were served out to the selected travelers,
sledges were prepared by P.O. Evans and Crean, and most of the
stores were tested and found to be most excellent in quality.
'Our clothing is as good as good. In fact first and last, running
through the whole extent of our outfit, I can say with pride
that there is not a single arrangement which I would have had
altered.... Everything looks hopeful for the depôt journey if
only we can get our stores and ponies past the Glacier Tongue.'
Thus Scott wrote on the 20th, but the following day brought a
serious suspense with it; for during the afternoon came a report
that the Terra Nova was ashore, and Scott, hastening to the Cape,
saw at once that she was firmly fixed and in a very uncomfortable
position.
Visions of the ship being unable to return to New Zealand arose in
his mind 'with sickening pertinacity,' and it was characteristic of
him that at the moment when there was every prospect of a complete
disarrangement of well-laid plans, he found his one consolation in
determining that, whatever happened, nothing should interfere with
the southern work.
The only possible remedy seemed to be an extensive lightening of
the ship with boats, as the tide had evidently been high when she
struck. Scott, with two or three companions, watched anxiously
from the shore while the men on board shifted cargo aft, but no
ray of hope came until the ship was seen to be turning very slowly,
and then they saw the men running from side to side and knew that
an attempt was being made to roll her off. At first the rolling
produced a more rapid turning movement, and then she seemed again
to hang though only for a short time. Meanwhile the engines had
been going astern and presently a slight movement became apparent,
but those who were watching the ship did not know that she was
getting clear until they heard the cheers on board. Then she
gathered stern way and was clear.
'The relief was enormous. The wind dropped as she came off, and
she is now securely moored off the northern ice-edge, where I
hope the greater number of her people are finding rest. For here
and now I must record the splendid manner in which these men
are working. I find it difficult to express my admiration for
the manner in which the ship is handled and worked under these
very trying circumstances... Pennell has been over to tell me
about it to-night; I think I like him more every day.'
On that same day Meares and Oates went to the Glacier Tongue
and satisfied themselves that the ice was good; and with the
25th fixed for the date of departure it was not too much to hope
that the ice would remain for three or four more days. The ponies
for Campbell's party were put on board on the 22nd, but when
Scott got up at 5 A.M. on the following morning he saw, to his
astonishment, that the ice was going out of the bay in a solid
mass. Then everything was rushed on at top speed, and a wonderful
day's work resulted. All the forage, food, sledges and equipment
were got off to the ship at once, the dogs followed; in short
everything to do with the depôt party was hurriedly put on board
except the ponies, which were to cross the Cape and try to get
over the Southern Road on the morning of the 24th.
The Southern Road was the one feasible line of communication
between the new station at Cape Evans and the Discovery hut,
for the rugged mountains and crevassed ice-slopes of Ross Island
prevented a passage by land. The Road provided level going below
the cliffs of the ice-foot except where disturbed by the descending
glacier; and there it was necessary to cross the body of the
glacier itself. It consisted of the more enduring ice in the bays
and the sea-ice along the coast, which only stayed fast for the
season. Thus it was most important to get safely over the dangerous
part of this Road before the seasonal going-out of the sea-ice. To
wait until after the ice went out and the ship could sail to Hut
Point would have meant both uncertainty and delay. Scott knew well
enough that the Road might not hold for many more hours, and it
actually broke up on the very day after the party had passed.
Early on Tuesday, January 24, a boat from the ship fetched Scott
and the Western Party; and at the same time the ponies were led
out of the camp, Wilson and Meares going ahead of them to test
the track. No sooner was Scott on board than he was taken to
inspect Lillie's catch of sea animals. 'It was wonderful, quantities
of sponges, isopods, pentapods, large shrimps, corals, &c. &c.;
but the pièce de résistance was the capture of several bucketsful
of cephalodiscus of which only seven pieces had been previously
caught. Lillie is immensely pleased, feeling that it alone repays
the whole enterprise.' In the forenoon the ship skirted the Island,
and with a telescope those on board could watch the string of
ponies steadily progressing over the sea-ice past the Razor Back
Islands; and, as soon as they were seen to be well advanced, the
ship steamed on to the Glacier Tongue, and made fast in the narrow
angle made by the sea-ice with the glacier.
Then, while Campbell investigated a broad crack in the sea ice on
the Southern Road, Scott went to meet the ponies, which, without
much difficulty, were got on to the Tongue, across the glacier,
and then were picketed on the sea-ice close to the ship. But
when Campbell returned with the news that the big crack was 30
feet across, it was evident that they must get past it on the
glacier, and Scott asked him to peg out a road clear of cracks.
Soon afterwards Oates reported that the ponies were ready to
start again, and they were led along; Campbell's road, their
loads having already been taken on the floe. At first all went
well, but when the animals got down on the floe level and Oates
led across an old snowed-up crack, the third pony made a jump at
the edge and sank to its stomach in the middle. Gradually it
sank deeper and deeper until only its head and forelegs showed
above the slush. With some trouble ropes were attached to these,
and the poor animal, looking very weak and miserable, was eventually
pulled out.
After this experience the other five ponies were led farther
round to the west and were got safely out on the floe; a small
feed was given to them, and then they were started off with their
loads.
The dogs in the meantime were causing some excitement for, starting
on hard ice with a light load, they obviously preferred speed
to security. Happily, however, no accident happened, and Scott,
writing from Glacier Tongue on January 24, was able to say: 'All
have arrived safely, and this evening we start our sledges south.
I expect we shall have to make three relays to get all our stores
on to the Barrier some fifteen miles away. The ship is to land
a geologising party on the west side of the Sound, and then to
proceed to King Edward's Land to put the Eastern party on short.'
The geologising party consisted of Griffith Taylor, Debenham,
Wright, and P.O. Evans, and for reasons already mentioned the
Eastern party were eventually known as the Northern party.
On the night of the 24th Scott camped six miles from the glacier
and two miles from Hut Point, he and Wilson having driven one
team of dogs, while Meares and E. Evans drove the other. But on
the following day Scott drove his team to the ship, and when the
men had been summoned aft he thanked them for their splendid work.
'They have behaved like bricks and a finer lot of fellows never
sailed in a ship.... It was a little sad to say farewell to all
these good fellows and Campbell and his men. I do most heartily
trust that all will be successful in their ventures, for indeed
their unselfishness and their generous high spirit deserves reward.
God bless them.'
* * * * *
How completely Scott's hopes were realized in the case of Campbell's
party is now well known. Nothing more miraculous than the story of
their adventures has ever been told. The party consisted of Campbell,
Levick, Priestley, Abbott, Browning, and Dickason, and the courage
shown by the leader and his companions in facing endless difficulties
and privations has met with the unstinted admiration that it most
thoroughly deserved.
* * * * *
For the depôt laying journey Scott's party consisted of 12 men
(Wilson, Bowers, Oates, Atkinson, Cherry-Garrard, E. Evans, Gran,
Meares, Forde, Keohane, Crean, and himself), 8 ponies and 26 dogs.
Of the dogs he felt at this time more than a little doubtful,
but the ponies were in his opinion bound to be a success. 'They
work with such extraordinary steadiness, stepping out briskly and
cheerfully, following in each other's tracks. The great drawback
is the ease with which they sink in soft snow: they go through
in lots of places where the men scarcely make an impression--they
struggle pluckily when they sink, but it is trying to watch them.'
In three days he hoped that all the loads would be transported to
complete safety, and on Friday, the 27th, only one load remained
to be brought from Hut Point. The strenuous labor of this day
tired out the dogs, but the ponies worked splendidly. On the
next day, however, both Keohane's and Bowers' ponies showed signs
of breaking down, and Oates began to take a gloomy view of the
situation. In compensation for these misfortunes the dogs, as they
got into better condition, began to do excellent work. During
Sunday they ran two loads for over a mile past the stores on the
Barrier to the spot chosen for 'Safety Camp,' the big home depôt.
'I don't think that any part of the Barrier is likely to go, but
it's just as well to be prepared for everything, and our camp
must deserve its distinctive title of "Safety."'
By this time the control of the second dog team had been definitely
handed over to Wilson, and in his journal he gives an admirable
account of his experiences. 'The seals have been giving a lot of
trouble, that is just to Meares and myself with our dogs....
Occasionally when one pictures oneself quite away from trouble
of that kind, an old seal will pop his head up at a blowhole
a few yards ahead of the team, and they are all on top of him
before one can say "knife"! Then one has to rush in with the
whip--and everyone of the team of eleven jumps over the harness
of the dog next to him, and the harnesses become a muddle that
takes much patience to unravel, not to mention care lest the
whole team should get away with the sledge and its load, and
leave one behind.... I never did get left the whole of this depôt
journey, but I was often very near it, and several times had
only time to seize a strap or a part of the sledge, and be dragged
along helter-skelter over everything that came in the way, till
the team got sick of galloping and one could struggle to one's
feet again. One gets very wary and wide-awake when one has to
manage a team of eleven dogs and a sledge load by oneself, but
it was a most interesting experience, and I had a delightful
leader, "Stareek" by name--Russian for "Old Man," and he was
the most wise old man.... Dog driving like this in the orthodox
manner is a very different thing from the beastly dog driving
we perpetrated in the Discovery days.... I got to love all my team
and they got to know me well.... Stareek is quite a ridiculous
"old man" and quite the nicest, quietest, cleverest old dog I
have ever come across. He looks in face as if he knew all the
wickedness of all the world and all its cares, and as if he were
bored to death by them.'
When Safety Camp was reached there was no need for haste until
they started upon their journey. 'It is only when we start that we
must travel fast.' Work, however, on the Monday was more strenuous
than successful, for the ponies sank very deep and had great
difficulty in bringing up their loads. During the afternoon Scott
disclosed his plan of campaign, which was to go forward with
five weeks' food for men and animals, then to depôt a fortnight's
supply after twelve or thirteen days and return to Safety Camp.
The loads for ponies under this arrangement worked out at a little
over 600 lbs., and for the dog teams at 700 lbs., both apart from
sledges. Whether the ponies could manage these loads depended on
the surface, and there was a great possibility that the dogs would
have to be lightened, but under the circumstances it was the best
plan they could hope to carry out.
On Tuesday when everything was ready for the start the one pair
of snow-shoes was tried on 'Weary Willy' with magical effect.
In places where he had floundered woefully without the shoes he
strolled round as if he was walking on hard ground. Immediately
after this experiment Scott decided that an attempt must be made
to get more snow-shoes, and within half an hour Meares and Wilson
had started, on the chance that the ice had not yet gone out, to
the station twenty miles away. But on the next day they returned
with the news that there was no possibility of reaching Cape
Evans, and an additional stroke of bad fortune fell when Atkinson's
foot, which had been troublesome for some time, was examined and
found to be so bad that he had to be left behind with Crean as a
companion.
Writing on Wednesday, February 1, from 'Safety Camp, Great Barrier,'
Scott said: 'I told you that we should be cut off from our winter
station, and that I had to get a good weight of stores on to the
Barrier to provide for that contingency. We are safely here with
all requisite stores, though it has taken nearly a week. But we
find the surface very soft and the ponies flounder in it. I sent
a dog team back yesterday to try and get snow-shoes for ponies,
but they found the ice broken south of Cape Evans and returned
this morning. Everyone is doing splendidly and gaining the right
sort of experience for next year. Every mile we advance this year
is a help for next.'
[Illustration: Pony Camp on the barrier.]
At last the start was made on Thursday, February 2, but when, after
marching five miles, Scott asked for their one pair of snow-shoes,
he found that they had been left behind, and Gran--whose expertness
on ski was most useful--immediately volunteered to go back and get
them. While he was away the party rested, for at Scott's suggestion
they had decided to take to night marching. And so at 12.30 A.M.
they started off once more on a surface that was bad at first but
gradually improved, until just before camping time Bowers, who was
leading, suddenly plunged into soft snow. Several of the others,
following close behind him, shared the same fate, and soon three
ponies were plunging and struggling in a drift, and had to be
unharnessed and led round from patch to patch until firmer ground
was reached.
Then came another triumph for the snow-shoes, which were put
on Bowers' pony, with the result that after a few minutes he
settled down, was harnessed to his load, and brought in not only
that but also another over places into which he had previously
been plunging. Again Scott expressed his regret that such a great
help to their work had been left behind at the station, and it
was all the more trying for him to see the ponies half engulfed
in the snow, and panting and heaving from the strain, when the
remedies for his state of affairs were so near and yet so impossible
to reach.
During the next march ten miles were covered, and the ponies,
on a better surface, easily dragged their loads, but signs of
bad weather began to appear in the morning, and by 4 P.M. on
Saturday a blizzard arrived and held up the party in Corner Camp
for three days. 'No fun to be out of the tent--but there are
no shirkers with us. Oates has been out regularly to feed the
ponies; Meares and Wilson to attend to the dogs; the rest of us
as occasion required.'
The ponies looked fairly comfortable during the blizzard, but
when it ceased and another march was made on Tuesday night, the
effects of the storm were too clearly seen. All of them finished
the march listlessly, and two or three were visibly thinner.
But by far the worst sufferer was Forde's 'Blucher' whose load
was reduced to 200 lbs., and finally Forde pulled this in and
led his pony. Extra food was given in the hope that they would
soon improve again; but at all costs most of them had got to
be kept alive, and Scott began to fear that very possibly the
journey would have to be curtailed.
During the next two marches, however, the ponies seemed to be
stronger. 'Surface very good and animals did splendidly,' Scott
wrote on Friday, February 10, and then gave in his diary for
the day an account of their nightly routine. 'We turn out of
our sleeping-bags about 9 P.M. Somewhere about 11.30 I shout
to the Soldier [Footnote: Oates.] "How are things?" There is a
response suggesting readiness, and soon after figures are busy
amongst sledges and ponies. It is chilling work for the fingers
and not too warm for the feet. The rugs come off the animals,
the harness is put on, tents and camp equipment are loaded on
the sledges, nosebags filled for the next halt; one by one the
animals are taken off the picketing rope and yoked to the sledge.
Oates watches his animal warily, reluctant to keep such a nervous
creature standing in the traces. If one is prompt one feels
impatient and fretful whilst watching one's more tardy fellows.
Wilson and Meares hang about ready to help with odds and ends.
'Still we wait: the picketing lines must be gathered up, a few
pony putties need adjustment, a party has been slow striking
their tent. With numbed fingers on our horse's bridle and the
animal striving to turn its head from the wind one feels resentful.
At last all is ready. One says "All right, Bowers, go ahead," and
Birdie leads his big animal forward, starting, as he continues, at
a steady pace. The horses have got cold and at the word they are
off, the Soldier's and one or two others with a rush. Finnesko give
poor foothold on the slippery sastrugi, [Footnote: Irregularities
formed by the wind on a snow-plain.] and for a minute or two
drivers have some difficulty in maintaining the pace on their
feet. Movement is warming, and in ten minutes the column has
settled itself to steady marching.
'The pace is still brisk, the light bad, and at intervals one or
another of us suddenly steps on a slippery patch and falls prone.
These are the only real incidents of the march--for the rest it
passes with a steady tramp and slight variation of formation. The
weaker ponies drop a bit but not far, so that they are soon up in
line again when the first halt is made. We have come to a single
halt in each half march. Last night it was too cold to stop long
and a very few minutes found us on the go again.
'As the end of the half march approaches I get out my whistle.
Then at a shrill blast Bowers wheels slightly to the left, his
tent mates lead still farther out to get the distance for the
picket lines; Oates and I stop behind Bowers and Evans, the two
other sledges of our squad behind the two other of Bowers'. So we
are drawn up in camp formation. The picket lines are run across
at right angles to the line of advance and secured to the two
sledges at each end. It a few minutes ponies are on the lines
covered, tents up again and cookers going.
'Meanwhile the dog drivers, after a long cold wait at the old camp,
have packed the last sledge and come trotting along our tracks.
They try to time their arrival in the new camp immediately after
our own, and generally succeed well. The mid-march halt runs into
an hour to an hour and a half, and at the end we pack up and tramp
forth again. We generally make our final camp about 8 o'clock, and
within an hour and a half most of us are in our sleeping-bags....
At the long halt we do our best for our animals by building snow
walls and improving their rugs, &c.
A softer surface on the 11th made the work much more difficult,
and even the dogs, who had been pulling consistently well, showed
signs of exhaustion before the march was over. Early on Sunday
morning they were near the 79th parallel, and exact bearings had
to be taken, since this camp, called Bluff Camp, was expected to
play an important part in the future. By this time three of the
ponies, Blossom, James Pigg, and Blucher, were so weak that Scott
decided to send E. Evans, Forde and Keohane back with them.
Progress on the next march was interrupted by a short blizzard,
and Scott, not by any means for the first time, was struck by
Bowers' imperviousness to cold. 'Bowers,' he wrote, 'is wonderful.
Throughout the night he has worn no head-gear but a common green
felt hat kept on with a chin-stay and affording no cover whatever
for the ears. His face and ears remain bright red. The rest of
us were glad to have thick Balaclavas and wind helmets. I have
never seen anyone so unaffected by the cold. To-night he remained
outside a full hour after the rest of us had got into the tent.
He was simply pottering about the camp doing small jobs to the
sledges, &c. Cherry-Garrard is remarkable because of his eyes. He
can only see through glasses and has to wrestle with all sorts of
inconveniences in consequence. Yet one could never guess it--for
he manages somehow to do more than his share of the work.'
Another disappointing day followed, on which the surface was so
bad that the ponies frequently sank lower than their hocks, and
the soft patches of snow left by the blizzard lay in sandy heaps
and made great friction for the runners. Still, however, they
struggled on; but Gran with Weary Willy could not go the pace,
and when they were three-quarters of a mile behind the others
the dog teams (which always left the camp after the others)
overtook them. Then the dogs got out of hand and attacked Weary
Willy, who put up a sterling fight but was bitten rather badly
before Meares and Gran could drive off the dogs. Afterwards it
was discovered that Weary Willy's load was much heavier than
that of the other ponies, and an attempt to continue the march
had quickly to be abandoned owing to his weak condition. As some
compensation for his misfortunes he was given a hot feed, a large
snow wall, and some extra sacking, and on the following day he
showed appreciation of these favors by a marked improvement.
Bowers' pony, however, refused work for the first time, and Oates
was more despondent than ever; 'But,' Scott says, 'I've come to
see that this is a characteristic of him. In spite of it he pays
every attention to the weaker horses.'
No doubt remained on the Thursday that both Weary Willy and Bowers'
pony could stand very little more, and so it was decided to turn
back on the following day. During the last march out the temperature
fell to -21° with a brisk south-west breeze, and frost-bites were
frequent. Bowers with his ears still uncovered suffered severely,
but while Scott and Cherry-Garrard nursed them back he seemed to
feel nothing but surprise and disgust at the mere fact of possessing
such unruly organs. 'It seems as though some of our party will find
spring journeys pretty trying. Oates' nose is always on the point
of being frost-bitten; Meares has a refractory toe which gives him
much trouble--this is the worse prospect for summit work. I have
been wondering how I shall stick the summit again, this cold spell
gives ideas. I think I shall be all right, but one must be prepared
for a pretty good doing.'
The depôt was built during the next day, February 17, Lat. 79°
29' S, and considerably over a ton of stuff was landed.
Stores left in depôt:
lbs.
245 7 weeks' full provision bags for 1 unit
12 2 days' provision bags for 1 unit
8 8 weeks' tea
31 6 weeks' extra butter
176 lbs. biscuit (7 weeks' full biscuit)
85 8-1/2 gallons oil (12 weeks' oil for 1 unit)
850 5 sacks of oats
424 4 bales of fodder
250 Tank of dog biscuit
100 2 cases of biscuit
----
2181
1 skein white line
1 set breast harness
2 12 ft. sledges
2 pair ski, 1 pair ski sticks
1 Minimum Thermometer
1 tin Rowntree cocoa
1 tin matches
Sorry as Scott was not to reach 80°, he was satisfied that they
had 'a good leg up' for next year, and could at least feed the
ponies thoroughly up to this point. In addition to a flagstaff
and black flag, One Ton Camp was marked with piled biscuit boxes
to act as reflectors, and tea-tins were tied on the top of the
sledges, which were planted upright in the snow. The depôt cairn
was more than six feet above the surface, and so the party had
the satisfaction of knowing that it could scarcely fail to show
up for many miles.
CHAPTER III
PERILS
...Yet I argue not
Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
Right onward.
--MILTON.
On the return journey Scott, Wilson, Meares and Cherry-Garrard
went back at top speed with the dog teams, leaving Bowers, Oates
and Gran to follow with the ponies. For three days excellent
marches were made, the dogs pulling splendidly, and anxious as
Scott was to get back to Safety Camp and find out what had happened
to the other parties and the ponies, he was more than satisfied
with the daily records. But on Tuesday, February 21, a check came
in their rapid journey, a check, moreover, which might have been a
most serious disaster.
The light though good when they started about 10 P.M. on Monday
night quickly became so bad that but little of the surface could
be seen, and the dogs began to show signs of fatigue. About an
hour and a half after the start they came upon mistily outlined
pressure ridges and were running by the sledges when, as the
teams were trotting side by side, the middle dogs of the teams
driven by Scott and Meares began to disappear. 'We turned,'
Cherry-Garrard says, 'and saw their dogs disappearing one after
another, like dogs going down a hole after a rat.'
In a moment the whole team were sinking; two by two they vanished
from sight, each pair struggling for foothold. Osman, the leader,
put forth all his strength and most wonderfully kept a foothold.
The sledge stopped on the brink of the crevasse, and Scott and
Meares jumped aside.
In another moment the situation was realized. They had actually
been traveling along the bridge of a crevasse, the sledge had
stopped on it, while the dogs hung in their harness in the abyss.
'Why the sledge and ourselves didn't follow the dogs we shall
never know. I think a fraction of a pound of added weight must
have taken us down.' Directly the sledge had been hauled clear
of the bridge and anchored, they peered into the depths of the
cracks. The dogs, suspended in all sorts of fantastic positions,
were howling dismally and almost frantic with terror. Two of them
had dropped out of their harness and, far below, could be seen
indistinctly on a snow-bridge. The rope at either end of the
chain had bitten deep into the snow at the side of the crevasse
and with the weight below could not possibly be moved.
By this time assistance was forthcoming from Wilson and
Cherry-Garrard, the latter hurriedly bringing the Alpine rope,
the exact position of which on the sledge he most fortunately
knew. The prospect, however, of rescuing the team was not by
any means bright, and for some minutes every attempt failed. In
spite of their determined efforts they could get not an inch
on the main trace of the sledge or on the leading rope, which
with a throttling pressure was binding poor Osman to the snow.
Then, as their thoughts became clearer, they set to work on a
definite plan of action. The sledge was unloaded, and the tent,
cooker, and sleeping-bags were carried to a safe place; then
Scott, seizing the lashing off Meares' sleeping-bag, passed the
tent-poles across the crevasse, and with Meares managed to get
a few inches on the leading line. This freed Osman, whose harness
was immediately cut. The next step was to secure the leading
rope to the main trace and haul up together. By this means one
dog was rescued and unlashed, but the rope already had cut so
far back at the edge that efforts to get more of it were useless.
[Illustration: Snowed-up tent after three days' blizzard.]
'We could now unbend the sledge and do that for which we should
have aimed from the first, namely, run the sledge across the gap
and work from it.' So the sledge was put over the crevasse and
pegged down on both sides, Wilson holding on to the anchored
trace while the others worked at the leader end. The leading
rope, however, was so very small that Scott was afraid of its
breaking, and Meares was lowered down to secure the Alpine rope
to the leading end of the trace; when this had been done the
chance of rescuing the dogs at once began to improve.
Two by two the dogs were hauled up until eleven out of the thirteen
were again in safety. Then Scott began to wonder if the two other
dogs could not be saved, and the Alpine rope was paid down to see
if it was long enough to reach the bridge on which they were coiled.
The rope was 90 feet, and as the amount remaining showed that the
depth of the bridge was about 65 feet, Scott made a bowline and
insisted upon being lowered down. The bridge turned out to be firm,
and he quickly got hold of the dogs and saw them hauled to the
surface. But before he could be brought up terrific howls arose
above, and he had to be left while the rope-tenders hastened to
stop a fight between the dogs of the two teams.
'We then hauled Scott up,' Cherry-Garrard says; 'it was all three
of us could do, my fingers a good deal frost-bitten in the end.
That was all the dogs, Scott has just said that at one time he
never hoped to get back with the thirteen, or even half of them.
When he was down in the crevasse he wanted to go off exploring,
but we dissuaded him.... He kept on saying, "I wonder why this
is running the way it is, you expect to find them at right angles."'
For over two hours the work of rescue had continued, and after it
was finished the party camped and had a meal, and congratulated
themselves on a miraculous escape. Had the sledge gone down Scott
and Meares must have been badly injured, if not killed outright,
but as things had turned out even the dogs showed wonderful signs
of recovery after their terrible experience.
On the following day Safety Camp was reached, but the dogs were
as thin as rakes and so ravenously hungry that Scott expressed
a very strong opinion that they were underfed. 'One thing is
certain, the dogs will never continue to drag heavy loads with
men sitting on the sledges; we must all learn to run with the
teams and the Russian custom must be dropped.'
At Safety Camp E. Evans, Forde and Keohane were found, but to
Scott's great sorrow two of their ponies had died on the return
journey. Forde had spent hour after hour in nursing poor Blucher,
and although the greatest care had also been given to Blossom,
both of them were left on the Southern Road. The remaining one
of the three, James Pigg, had managed not only to survive but
actually to thrive, and, severe as the loss of the two ponies was,
some small consolation could be gained from the fact that they
were the oldest of the team, and the two which Oates considered
to be the least useful.
After a few hours' sleep Scott, Wilson, Meares, Cherry-Garrard
and Evans started off to Hut Point, and on arrival were astonished
to find that, although the hut had been cleared and made habitable,
no one was there. A pencil line on the wall stated that a bag
containing a mail was inside, but no bag was to be found. But
presently what turned out to be the true solution of this curious
state of affairs was guessed, namely, that Atkinson and Crean
had been on their way from the hut to Safety Camp as the others
had come from the camp to the hut, and later on Scott saw their
sledge track leading round on the sea-ice.
Feeling terribly anxious that some disaster might have happened
to Atkinson and Crean owing to the weakness of the ice round
Cape Armitage, Scott and his party soon started back to Safety
Camp, but it was not until they were within a couple of hundred
yards of their destination that they saw three tents instead
of two, and knew that Atkinson and Crean were safe. No sooner,
however, had Scott received his letters than his feelings of
relief were succeeded by sheer astonishment.
'Every incident of the day pales before the startling contents
of the mail bag which Atkinson gave me--a letter from Campbell
setting out his doings and the finding of Amundsen established
in the Bay of Whales.
'One thing only fixes itself definitely in my mind. The proper,
as well as the wiser, course for us is to proceed exactly as
though this had not happened. To go forward and do our best for
the honor of the country without fear or panic.
'There is no doubt that Amundsen's plan is a very serious menace
to ours. He has a shorter distance to the Pole by 60 miles--I
never thought he could have got so many dogs [116] safely to
the ice. His plan for running them seems excellent. But above
and beyond all he can start his journey early in the season--an
impossible condition with ponies.'
The ship, to which Scott had said good-by a month before, had,
after landing the Western Geological Party at Butter Point,
proceeded along the Barrier, and on February 5 had come across
Amundsen camped in the Bay of Whales. No landing place, however,
for Campbell's party could be found. 'This,' Campbell says, 'was
a great disappointment to us all, but there was nothing for it
but to return to McMurdo Sound to communicate with the main party,
and then try to effect a landing in the vicinity of Smith's Inlet
or as far to the westward as possible on the north coast of
Victoria Land, and if possible to explore the unknown coast west
of Cape North. We therefore made the best of our way to Cape
Evans, and arrived on the evening of the 8th. Here I decided
to land the two ponies, as they would be very little use to us
on the mountainous coast of Victoria Land, and in view of the
Norwegian expedition I felt the Southern Party would require
all the transport available. After landing the ponies we steamed
up to the sea-ice by Glacier Tongue, and from there, taking
Priestley and Abbott, I went with letters to Hut Point, where
the depôt party would call on their way back.'
Thus Scott came on Wednesday, February 22, to receive the news
which was bound to occupy his thoughts, however resolutely he
refused to allow it to interfere in any way with his plans.
Thursday was spent preparing sledges to meet Bowers, Oates and
Gran at Corner Camp, and on the following day Scott, Crean and
Cherry-Garrard with one sledge and tent, E. Evans, Atkinson and
Forde with second sledge and tent, and Keohane leading James
Pigg, started their march. At 3 P.M. on Saturday Scott turned out
and saw a short black line on the horizon towards White Island.
Presently he made certain that it was Bowers and his companions,
but they were traveling fast and failed to see Scott's camp;
so when the latter reached Corner Camp he did not find Bowers,
but was glad to see five pony walls and consequently to know
that all the animals were still alive.
Having depôted six full weeks' provisions, Scott, Cherry-Garrard
and Crean started for home, leaving the others to bring James
Pigg by easier stages. The next day, however, had to be spent in
the tent owing to a howling blizzard, and not until the Tuesday
did Scott reach Safety Camp, where he found that the ponies were
without exception terribly thin, and that Weary Willy was especially
in a pitiable condition.
As no advantage was to be gained by staying at Safety Camp,
arrangements were made immediately for a general shift to Hut
Point, and about four o'clock the two dog teams driven by Wilson
and Meares got safely away. Then the ponies were got ready to
start, the plan being for them to follow in the tracks of the
dogs; the route was over about six miles of sea-ice, which, owing
to the spread of water holes, caused Scott to feel gravely anxious.
At the very start, however, Weary Willy fell down, and his plight
was so critical that Bowers, Cherry-Garrard and Crean were sent on
with Punch, Cuts, Uncle Bill and Nobby to Hut Point, while Scott,
with Oates and Gran, decided to stay behind and attend to the
sick pony. But despite all the attempts to save him, Weary Willy
died during the Tuesday night. 'It makes a late start necessary
for next year,' Scott wrote in his diary on Wednesday, March 1,
but on the following day he had to add to this, 'The events of
the past 48 hours bid fair to wreck the expedition, and the only
one comfort is the miraculous avoidance of loss of life.'
Early on the morning following Weary Willy's death, Scott, Oates
and Gran started out and pulled towards the forage depôt, which
was at a point on the Barrier half a mile from the edge, in a
S.S.E. direction from Hut Point. On their approach the sky looked
black and lowering, and mirage effects of huge broken floes loomed
out ahead. At first Scott thought that this was one of the strange
optical illusions common in the Antarctic, but as he drew close
to the depôt all doubt was dispelled. The sea was full of broken
pieces of Barrier edge, and at once his thoughts flew to the
ponies and dogs.
They turned to follow the sea-edge, and suddenly discovering a
working crack, dashed over it and hastened on until they were in
line between Safety Camp and Castle Rock. Meanwhile Scott's first
thought was to warn E. Evans' party which was traveling back from
Corner Camp with James Pigg. 'We set up tent, and Gran went to
the depôt with a note as Oates and I disconsolately thought out
the situation. I thought to myself that if either party had
reached safety either on the Barrier or at Hut Point they would
immediately have sent a warning messenger to Safety Camp. By
this time the messenger should have been with us. Some half-hour
passed, and suddenly with a "Thank God!" I made certain that
two specks in the direction of Pram Point were human beings.'
When, however, Scott hastened in their direction he discovered
them to be Wilson and Meares, who were astonished to see him,
because they had left Safety Camp before the breakdown of Weary
Willy had upset the original program. From them Scott heard alarming
reports that the ponies were adrift on the sea-ice.
The startling incidents that had led to this state of affairs
began very soon after Bowers, Crean and Cherry-Garrard had left
Safety Camp with the ponies. 'I caught Bowers up at the edge
of the Barrier,' Cherry-Garrard wrote in his diary, 'the dogs
were on ahead and we saw them turn and make right round Cape
Armitage. "Uncle Bill" got done, and I took up the dog tracks
which we followed over the tide crack and well on towards Cape
Armitage.
'The sea-ice was very weak, and we came to fresh crack after
fresh crack, and at last to a big crack with water squelching
through for many feet on both sides. We all thought it impossible
to proceed and turned back.... The ponies began to get very done,
and Bowers decided to get back over the tide crack, find a snowy
place, and camp.
'This had been considered with Scott as a possibility and agreed
to. Of course according to arrangements then Scott would have
been with the ponies.
'We camped about 11 P.M. and made walls for the ponies. Bowers
cooked with a primus of which the top is lost, and it took a
long time. He mistook curry powder for cocoa, and we all felt
very bad for a short time after trying it. Crean swallowed all
his. Otherwise we had a good meal.
'While we were eating a sound as though ice had fallen outside
down the tent made us wonder. At 2 A.M. we turned in, Bowers
went out, and all was quiet. At 4.30 A.M. Bowers was wakened
by a grinding sound, jumped up, and found the situation as
follows:--
'The whole sea-ice had broken up into small floes, from ten to
thirty or forty yards across. We were on a small floe, I think
about twenty yards across, two sledges were on the next floe,
and "Cuts" had disappeared down the opening. Bowers shouted to
us all and hauled the two sledges on to our floe in his socks.
We packed anyhow, I don't suppose a camp was ever struck quicker.
It seemed to me impossible to go on with the ponies and I said
so, but Bowers decided to try.
'We decided that to go towards White Island looked best, and for
five hours traveled in the following way:--we jumped the ponies
over floe to floe as the cracks joined.... We then man-hauled
the sledges after them, then according to the size of the floe
sometimes harnessed the ponies in again, sometimes man-hauled
the sledge to the next crack, waited our chance, sometimes I
should think five or ten minutes, and repeated the process.'
At length they worked their way to heavier floes lying near the
Barrier edge, and at one time thought that it was possible to get
up; but very soon they discovered that there were gaps everywhere
off the high Barrier face. In this dilemma Crean volunteered to
try and reach Scott, and after traveling a great distance and
leaping from floe to floe, he found a thick floe from which with
the help of his ski stick he could climb the Barrier face. 'It
was a desperate venture, but luckily successful.'
And so while Scott, Oates, Wilson, Meares and Gran were discussing
the critical situation, a man, who proved to be Crean, was seen
rapidly making for the depôt from the west.
As soon as Scott had considered the latest development of the
situation he sent Gran back to Hut Point with Wilson and Meares,
and started with Oates, Crean, and a sledge for the scene of
the mishap. A halt was made at Safety Camp to get some provisions
and oil, and then, marching carefully round, they approached
the ice-edge, and to their joy caught sight of Bowers and
Cherry-Garrard. With the help of the Alpine rope both the men
were dragged to the surface, and after camp had been pitched
at a safe distance from the edge all hands started upon salvage
work. The ice at this time lay close and quiet against the Barrier
edge, and some ten hours after Bowers and Cherry-Garrard had been
hauled up, the sledges and their contents were safely on the
Barrier. But then, just as the last loads were saved, the ice
began to drift again, and so, for the time, nothing could be
done for the ponies except to leave them well-fed upon their floes.
'None of our party had had sleep the previous night and all were
dog tired. I decided we must rest, but turned everyone out at 8.30
yesterday morning [after three or four hours]. Before breakfast we
discovered the ponies had drifted away. We had tried to anchor their
floes with the Alpine rope, but the anchors had drawn. It was a sad
moment.'
Presently, however, Bowers, who had taken the binoculars, announced
that he could see the ponies about a mile to the N. W. 'We packed
and went on at once. We found it easy enough to get down to the
poor animals and decided to rush them for a last chance of life.
Then there was an unfortunate mistake: I went along the Barrier edge
and discovered what I thought and what proved to be a practicable
way to land a pony, but the others meanwhile, a little overwrought,
tried to leap Punch across a gap. The poor beast fell in; eventually
we had to kill him--it was awful. I recalled all hands and pointed
out my road. Bowers and Oates went out on it with a sledge and
worked their way to the remaining ponies, and started back with
them on the same track.... We saved one pony; for a time I thought
we should get both, but Bowers' poor animal slipped at a jump
and plunged into the water: we dragged him out on some brash ice--
killer whales all about us in an intense state of excitement.
The poor animal couldn't rise, and the only merciful thing was to
kill it. These incidents were too terrible. At 5 P.M. (Thursday,
March 2), we sadly broke our temporary camp and marched back to
the one I had just pitched.... So here we are ready to start our
sad journey to Hut Point. Everything out of joint with the loss
of our ponies, but mercifully with all the party alive and well.'
At the start on the march back the surface was so bad that only
three miles were covered in four hours, and in addition to this
physical strain Scott was also deeply anxious to know that E.
Evans and his party were safe; but while they were camping that
night on Pram Point ridges, Evans' party, all of whom were well,
came in. Then it was decided that Atkinson should go on to Hut
Point in the morning to take news to Wilson, Meares and Gran,
who were looking after the dogs, and having a wretched time in
trying to make two sleeping-bags do the work of three.
On March 2 Wilson wrote in his journal: 'A very bitter wind blowing
and it was a cheerless job waiting for six hours to get a sleep in
the bag.... As the ice had all gone out of the strait we were cut
off from any return to Cape Evans until the sea should again freeze
over, and this was not likely until the end of April. We rigged up
a small fireplace in the hut and found some wood and made a fire
for an hour or so at each meal, but as there was no coal and not
much wood we felt we must be economical with the fuel, and so also
with matches and everything else, in case Bowers should lose his
sledge loads, which had most of the supplies for the whole party
to last twelve men for two months.... There was literally nothing
in the hut that one could cover oneself with to keep warm, and we
couldn't run to keeping the fire going. It was very cold work.
There were heaps of biscuit cases here which we had left in
Discovery days, and with these we built up a small inner hut to
live in.'
On Saturday Scott and some of his party reached the hut, and on
Sunday he was able to write: 'Turned in with much relief to have
all hands and the animals safely housed.' Only two ponies, James
Pigg and Nobby, remained out of the eight that had started on
the depôt journey, but disastrous as this was to the expedition
there was reason to be thankful that even greater disasters had
not happened.
CHAPTER IV
A HAPPY FAMILY
By mutual confidence and mutual aid
Great deeds are done and great discoveries made.
--ANON.
With the certainty of having to stay in the Discovery hut for
some time, the party set to work at once to make it as comfortable
as possible. With packing-cases a large L-shaped inner apartment
was made, the intervals being stopped with felt, and an empty
kerosene tin and some firebricks were made into an excellent
little stove which was connected to the old stove-pipe.
As regards food almost an unlimited supply of biscuit was available,
and during a walk to Pram Point on Monday, March 6, Scott and
Wilson found that the sea-ice in Pram Point Bay had not gone out
and was crowded with seals, a happy find that guaranteed the party
as much meat as they wanted. 'We really have everything necessary
for our comfort and only need a little more experience to make the
best of our resources.... It is splendid to see the way in which
everyone is learning the ropes, and the resource which is being
shown. Wilson as usual leads in the making of useful suggestions
and in generally providing for our wants. He is a tower of strength
in checking the ill-usage of clothes--what I have come to regard as
the greatest danger with Englishmen.'
On Saturday night a blizzard sprang up and gradually increased
in force until it reminded Scott and Wilson of the gale which
drove the Discovery ashore. The blizzard continued until noon
on Tuesday, on which day the Western Geological Party (Griffith
Taylor, Wright, Debenham and P.O. Evans) returned to the hut
after a successful trip.
Two days later another depôt party started to Corner Camp, E. Evans,
Wright, Crean and Forde in one team; Bowers, Oates, Cherry-Garrard
and Atkinson in the other. 'It was very sporting of Wright to join
in after only a day's rest. He is evidently a splendid puller.'
During the absence of this party the comforts of the hut were
constantly being increased, but continuous bad weather was both
depressing to the men and very serious for the dogs. Every effort
had been made to make the dogs comfortable, but the changes of
wind made it impossible to give them shelter in all directions.
At least five of them were in a sorry plight, and half a dozen
others were by no means strong, but whether because they were
constitutionally harder or whether better fitted by nature to
protect themselves the other ten or a dozen animals were as fit
as they could be. As it was found to be impossible to keep the
dogs comfortable in the traces, the majority of them were allowed
to run loose; for although Scott feared that this freedom would
mean that there would be some fights to the death, he thought it
preferable to the risk of losing the animals by keeping them on
the leash. The main difficulty with them was that when the ice once
got thoroughly into the coats their hind legs became half paralyzed
with cold, but by allowing them to run loose it was hoped that
they would be able to free themselves of this serious trouble.
'Well, well, fortune is not being very kind to us. This month
will have sad memories. Still I suppose things might be worse;
the ponies are well housed and are doing exceedingly well....'
The depôt party returned to the hut on March 23, but though the
sea by this time showed symptoms of wanting to freeze, there
was no real sign that the ice would hold for many a long day.
Stock therefore was taken of their resources, and arrangements
were made for a much longer stay than had been anticipated. A
week later the ice, though not thickening rapidly, held south of
Hut Point, but the stretch from Hut Point to Turtle Back Island
still refused to freeze even in calm weather, and Scott began
to think that they might not be able to get back to Cape Evans
before May. Soon afterwards, however, the sea began to freeze
over completely, and on Thursday evening, April 6, a program,
subject to the continuance of good weather, was arranged for a
shift to Cape Evans. 'It feels good,' Cherry-Garrard wrote, 'to
have something doing in the air.' But the weather prevented them
from starting on the appointed day, and although Scott was most
anxious to get back and see that all was well at Cape Evans, the
comfort achieved in the old hut was so great that he confessed
himself half-sorry to leave it.
Describing their life at Hut Point he says, 'We gather around
the fire seated on packing-cases, with a hunk of bread and butter
and a steaming pannikin of tea, and life is well worth living.
After lunch we are out and about again; there is little to tempt
a long stay indoors, and exercise keeps us all the fitter.
'The failing light and approach of supper drives us home again
with good appetites about 5 or 6 o'clock, and then the cooks rival
one another in preparing succulent dishes of fried seal liver....
Exclamations of satisfaction can be heard every night--or nearly
every night; for two nights ago (April 4) Wilson, who has proved
a genius in the invention of "plats," almost ruined his reputation.
He proposed to fry the seal liver in penguin blubber, suggesting
that the latter could be freed from all rankness.... The "fry"
proved redolent of penguin, a concentrated essence of that
peculiar flavor which faintly lingers in the meat and should not
be emphasized. Three heroes got through their pannikins, but the
rest of us decided to be contented with cocoa and biscuit after
tasting the first mouthful. [Footnote: Wilson, referring to this
incident in his Journal, showed no signs of contrition. 'Fun over
a fry I made in my new penguin lard. It was quite a success and
tasted like very bad sardine oil.']
'After supper we have an hour or so of smoking and conversation--a
cheering, pleasant hour--in which reminiscences are exchanged by a
company which has very literally had world-wide experience. There
is scarce a country under the sun which one or another of us has
not traveled in, so diverse are our origins and occupations.
'An hour or so after supper we tail off one by one.... Everyone can
manage eight or nine hours' sleep without a break, and not a few
would have little difficulty in sleeping the clock round, which
goes to show that our exceedingly simple life is an exceedingly
healthy one, though with faces and hands blackened with smoke,
appearances might not lead an outsider to suppose it.'
On Tuesday, April 11, a start could be made for Cape Evans, the
party consisting of Scott, Bowers, P.O. Evans and Taylor in one
tent; E. Evans, Gran, Crean, Debenham and Wright in another;
Wilson being left in charge at Hut Point, with Meares, Forde,
Keohane, Oates, Atkinson and Cherry-Garrard.
In fine weather they marched past Castle Rock, and it soon became
evident that they must go well along the ridge before descending,
and that the difficulty would be to get down over the cliffs.
Seven and a half miles from the start they reached Hutton Rocks,
a very icy and wind-swept spot, and as the wind rose and the light
became bad at the critical moment they camped for a short time.
Half an hour later the weather cleared and a possible descent to
the ice cliffs could be seen, but between Hutton Rock and Erebus
all the slope was much cracked and crevassed. A clear track to
the edge of the cliffs was chosen, but on arriving there no low
place could be found (the lowest part being 24 feet sheer drop),
and as the wind was increasing and the snow beginning to drift
off the ridge a quick decision had to be made.
Then Scott went to the edge, and having made standing places to
work the Alpine rope, Bowers., E. Evans and Taylor were lowered.
Next the sledges went down fully packed and then the remainder
of the party, Scott being the last to go down. It was a neat and
speedy piece of work, and completed in twenty minutes without
serious frost-bites.
The surface of ice covered with salt crystals made pulling very
heavy to Glacier Tongue, which they reached about 5.30 P.M. A
stiff incline on a hard surface followed, but as the light was
failing and cracks were innumerable, several of the party fell
in with considerable risk of damage. The north side, however,
was well snow-covered, with a good valley leading to a low ice
cliff in which a broken piece provided an easy descent. Under
the circumstances Scott decided to push on to Cape Evans, but
darkness suddenly fell upon them, and after very heavy pulling
for many hours they were so totally unable to see anything ahead,
that at 10 P.M. they were compelled to pitch their camp under
little Razor Back Island. During the night the wind began to
rise, and in the morning a roaring blizzard was blowing, and
obviously the ice on which they had pitched their camp was none
too safe. For hours they waited vainly for a lull, until at 3
P.M. Scott and Bowers went round the Island, with the result
that they resolved to shift their camp to a little platform under
the weather side. This operation lasted for two very cold hours,
but splendid shelter was gained, the cliffs rising almost sheer
from the tents. 'Only now and again a whirling wind current eddied
down on the tents, which were well secured, but the noise of the
wind sweeping over the rocky ridge above our heads was deafening;
we could scarcely hear ourselves speak.' Provisions for only
one more meal were left, but sleep all the same was easier to
get than on the previous night, because they knew that they were
no longer in danger of being swept out to sea.
The wind moderated during the night, and early in the morning
the party in a desperately cold and stiff breeze and with frozen
clothes were again under weigh. The distance, however, was only
two miles, and after some very hard pulling they arrived off
the point and found that the sea-ice continued around it. 'It
was a very great relief to see the hut on rounding it and to
hear that all was well.'
In choosing the site of the hut Scott had thought of the possibility
of northerly winds bringing a swell, but had argued, first, that
no heavy northerly swell had ever been recorded in the Sound;
secondly, that a strong northerly wind was bound to bring pack
which would damp the swell; thirdly, that the locality was well
protected by the Barne Glacier; and, lastly, that the beach itself
showed no signs of having been swept by the sea. When, however,
the hut had been erected and he found that its foundation was
only eleven feet above the level of the sea-ice, he could not
rid himself entirely of misgivings.
As events turned out the hut was safe and sound enough, but not
until Scott reached it, on April 13, did he realize how anxious
he had been. 'In a normal season no thoughts of its having been
in danger would have occurred to me, but since the loss of the
ponies and the breaking of Glacier Tongue, I could not rid myself
of the fear that misfortune was in the air and that some abnormal
swell had swept the beach.' So when he and his party turned the
small headland and saw that the hut was intact, a real fear was
mercifully removed. Very soon afterwards the travelers were seen
by two men at work near the stables, and then the nine occupants
(Simpson, Day, Nelson, Ponting, Lashly, Clissold, Hooper, Anton
and Demetri) came rapidly to meet and welcome them. In a minute
the most important events of the quiet station life were told,
the worst news being that one pony, named Hacken-schmidt, and
one dog had died. For the rest the hut arrangements had worked
admirably, and the scientific routine of observations was in full
swing.
After their primitive life at the Discovery hut the interior
space of the home at Cape Evans seemed palatial, and the comfort
luxurious. 'It was very good to eat in civilized fashion, to
enjoy the first bath for three months, and have contact with
clean, dry clothing. Such fleeting hours of comfort (for custom
soon banished their delight) are the treasured remembrance of
every Polar traveler.' Not for many hours or even minutes, however,
was Scott in the hut before he was taken round to see in detail
the transformation that had taken place in his absence, and in
which a very proper pride was taken by those who had created it.
First of all a visit was paid to Simpson's Corner, where numerous
shelves laden with a profusion of self-recording instruments,
electric batteries and switchboards were to be seen, and the
tickings of many clocks, the gentle whir of a motor and occasionally
the trembling note of an electric bell could be heard. 'It took me
days and even months to realize fully the aims of our meteorologist
and the scientific accuracy with which he was achieving them.'
From Simpson's Corner Scott was taken on his tour of inspection
into Ponting's dark room, and found that the art of photography
had never been so well housed within the Polar regions and rarely
without them. 'Such a palatial chamber for the development of
negatives and prints can only be justified by the quality of the
work produced in it, and is only justified in our case by such
an artist as Ponting.'
From the dark room he went on to the biologists' cubicle, shared, to
their mutual satisfaction, by Day and Nelson. There the prevailing
note was neatness, and to Day's mechanical skill everyone paid
tribute. The heating, lighting and ventilating arrangements of the
hut had been left entirely in his charge, and had been carried out
with admirable success. The cook's corner was visited next, and
Scott was very surprised to see the mechanical ingenuity shown by
Clissold. 'Later,' he says, 'when I found that Clissold was called
in to consult on the ailments of Simpson's motor, and that he was
capable of constructing a dog sledge out of packing-cases, I was
less surprised, because I knew by this time that he had had
considerable training in mechanical work before he turned his
attention to pots and pans.'
The tour ended with an inspection of the shelters for the animals,
and when Scott saw the stables he could not help regretting that
some of the stalls would have to remain empty, though he appreciated
fully the fact that there was ample and safe harborage for the ten
remaining ponies. With Lashly's help, Anton had completed the
furnishing of the stables in a way that was both neat and effective.
Only five or six dogs had been left in Demetri's charge, and it
was at once evident that every care had been taken of them; not
only had shelters been made, but a small 'lean to' had also been
built to serve as a hospital for any sick animal. The impressions,
in short, that Scott received on his return to Cape Evans were
almost wholly pleasant, and in happy contrast with the fears that
had assailed him on the homeward route.
Not for long, however, did he, Bowers and Crean stay to enjoy the
comforts of Cape Evans, as on Monday, April 17, they were off
again to Hut Point with two 10-foot sledges, a week's provisions
of sledding food, and butter, oatmeal, &c., for the hut. Scott,
Lashly, Day and Demetri took the first sledge; Bowers, Nelson,
Crean and Hooper the second; and after a rather adventurous journey,
in which 'Lashly was splendid at camp work as of old,' they reached
Hut Point at 1 P.M. on the following day, and found everyone well
and in good spirits. The party left at the hut were, however, very
short of seal-meat, a cause of anxiety, because until the sea froze
over there was no possibility of getting the ponies back to Cape
Evans. But three seals were reported on the Wednesday and promptly
killed, and so Scott, satisfied that this stock was enough for
twelve days, resolved to go back as soon as the weather would allow
him.
Leaving Meares in charge of the station with Demetri to help with
the dogs, Lashly and Keohane to look after the ponies, and Nelson,
Day and Forde to get some idea of the life and experience, the
homeward party started on Friday morning. On this journey Scott,
Wilson, Atkinson and Crean pulled one sledge, and Bowers, Oates,
Cherry-Garrard and Hooper the other. Scott's party were the
leaders, and their sledge dragged so fearfully that the men with
the second sledge had a very easy time in keeping up. Then Crean
declared that although the loads were equal there was a great
difference in the sledges. 'Bowers,' Scott says, 'politely assented
when I voiced this sentiment, but I am sure he and his party
thought it the plea of tired men. However, there was nothing like
proof, and he readily assented to change sledges. The difference
was really extraordinary; we felt the new sledge a featherweight
compared with the old, and set up a great pace for the home quarters
regardless of how much we perspired.'
All of them arrived at Cape Evans with their garments soaked
through, and as they took off their wind clothes showers of ice
fell upon the floor. The accumulation was almost beyond belief
and showed the whole trouble of sledding in cold weather. Clissold,
however, was at hand with 'just the right meal,' an enormous dish
of rice and figs, and cocoa in a bucket. The sledding season was
at an end, and Scott admitted that in spite of all the losses
they had sustained it was good to be home again, while Wilson,
Oates, Atkinson and Cherry-Garrard, who had not seen the hut
since it had been fitted out, were astonished at its comfort.
On Sunday, April 23, two days after the return from Hut Point,
the sun made it's last appearance and the winter work was begun.
Ponies for exercise were allotted to Bowers, Cherry-Garrard,
Hooper, Clissold, P.O. Evans and Crean, besides Oates and Anton,
but in making this allotment Scott was obliged to add a warning
that those who exercised the ponies would not necessarily lead
them in the spring.
Wilson at once began busily to paint, and Atkinson was equally
busy unpacking and setting up his sterilizers and incubators.
Wright began to wrestle with the electrical instruments; Oates
started to make bigger stalls in the stables; Cherry-Garrard
employed himself in building a stone house for taxidermy and
with a view to getting hints for a shelter at Cape Crozier during
the winter, while Taylor and Debenham took advantage of the last
of the light to examine the topography of the peninsula. E. Evans
surveyed the Cape and its neighborhood, and Simpson and Bowers, in
addition to their other work, spent hours over balloon experiments.
In fact everyone was overflowing with energy.
On Friday, April 28, Scott, eager to get the party safely back
from Hut Point, hoped that the sea had at last frozen over for
good, but a gale on the following day played havoc with the ice;
and although the strait rapidly froze again, the possibility of
every gale clearing the sea was too great to be pleasant. Obviously,
however, it was useless to worry over a state of affairs that
could not be helped, and the arrangements for passing the winter
steadily progressed.
At Scott's request Cherry-Garrard undertook the editorship of
the South Polar Times and the following notice was issued:
The first number of the South Polar Times will be published
on Midwinter Day.
All are asked to send in contributions, signed anonymously,
and to place these contributions in this box as soon as possible.
No contributions for this number will be accepted after May 31.
A selection of these will be made for publication. It is not
intended that the paper shall be too scientific.
Contributions may take the form of prose, poetry or drawing.
Contributors whose writings will lend themselves to illustration
are asked to consult with the Editor as soon as possible.
The Editor,
S. P. T.
The editor, warned by Scott that the work was not easy and required
a lot of tact, at once placed great hopes in the assistance he
would receive from Wilson, and how abundantly these hopes were
fulfilled has been widely recognized not only by students of Polar
literature, but also by those who admire art merely for art's sake.
On the evening of Tuesday, May 2, Wilson opened the series of
winter lectures with a paper on 'Antarctic Flying Birds,' and
in turn Simpson, Taylor, Ponting, Debenham and others lectured
on their special subjects. But still the Discovery hut party did
not appear, although the strait (by May 9) had been frozen over
for nearly a week; and repeatedly Scott expressed a wish that
they would return. In the meantime there was work and to spare
for everyone, and as the days went by Scott was also given ample
opportunities to get a thorough knowledge of his companions.
'I do not think,' he wrote, 'there can be any life quite so
demonstrative of character as that which we had on these
expeditions. One sees a remarkable reassortment of values. Under
ordinary conditions it is so easy to carry a point with a little
bounce; self-assertion is a mask which covers many a weakness....
Here the outward show is nothing, it is the inward purpose that
counts. So the "gods" dwindle and the humble supplant them.
Pretence is useless.
'One sees Wilson busy with pencil and color box, rapidly and
steadily adding to his portfolio of charming sketches and at
intervals filling the gaps in his zoological work of Discovery
times; withal ready and willing to give advice and assistance
to others at all times; his sound judgment appreciated and
therefore a constant referee.
'Simpson, master of his craft... doing the work of two observers
at least... So the current meteorological and magnetic observations
are taken as never before on Polar expeditions.'
'Wright, good-hearted, strong, keen, striving to saturate his
mind with the ice problems of this wonderful region...'
And then after referring in terms of praise to the industry of E.
Evans, the versatile intellect of Taylor, and the thoroughness and
conscientiousness of Debenham, Scott goes on to praise unreservedly
the man to whom the whole expedition owed an immense debt of
gratitude.
'To Bowers' practical genius is owed much of the smooth working
of our station. He has a natural method in line with which all
arrangements fall, so that expenditure is easily and exactly
adjusted to supply, and I have the inestimable advantage of knowing
the length of time which each of our possessions will last us and
the assurance that there can be no waste. Active mind and active
body were never more happily blended. It is a restless activity
admitting no idle moments and ever budding into new forms.
'So we see the balloon ascending under his guidance and anon he is
away over the floe tracking the silk thread which held it. Such
a task completed, he is away to exercise his pony, and later out
again with the dogs, the last typically self-suggested, because
for the moment there is no one else to care for these animals....
He is for the open air, seemingly incapable of realizing any
discomfort from it, and yet his hours within doors spent with
equal profit. For he is intent on tracking the problems of sledding
food and clothes to their innermost bearings and is becoming an
authority on past records. This will be no small help to me and
one which others never could have given.
'Adjacent to the physicists' corner of the hut Atkinson is quietly
pursuing the subject of parasites. Already he is in a new world.
The laying out of the fish trap was his action and the catches are
his field of labor.... His bench with its array of microscopes,
etc., is next the dark room in which Ponting spends the greater
part of his life. I would describe him as sustained by artistic
enthusiasm....
'Cherry-Garrard is another of the open-air, self-effacing, quiet
workers; his whole heart is in the life, with profound eagerness
to help everyone. One has caught glimpses of him in tight places;
sound all through and pretty hard also....
'Oates' whole heart is in the ponies. He is really devoted to
their care, and I believe will produce them in the best possible
form for the sledding season. Opening out the stores, installing
a blubber stove, etc., has kept him busy, whilst his satellite,
Anton, is ever at work in the stables--an excellent little man.
'P.O. Evans and Crean are repairing sleeping-bags, covering felt
boots, and generally working on sledding kit. In fact there is
no one idle, and no one who has the least prospect of idleness.
On May 8 as one of the series of lectures Scott gave an outline
of his plans for next season, and hinted that in his opinion the
problem of reaching the Pole could best be solved by relying on
the ponies and man haulage. With this opinion there was general
agreement, for as regards glacier and summit work everyone seemed
to distrust the dogs. At the end of the lecture he asked that the
problem should be thought over and freely discussed, and that any
suggestions should be brought to his notice. 'It's going to be
a tough job; that is better realized the more one dives into it.'
At last, on May 13, Atkinson brought news that the dogs were
returning, and soon afterwards Meares and his team arrived, and
reported that the ponies were not far behind. For more than three
weeks the weather at Hut Point had been exceptionally calm and
fine, and with joy Scott saw that all of the dogs were looking
remarkably well, and that the two ponies also seemed to have
improved. 'It is a great comfort to have the men and dogs back,
and a greater to contemplate all the ten ponies comfortably stabled
for the winter. Everything seems to depend on these animals.'
With their various occupations, lectures in the evening, and
games of football--when it was not unusual for the goal-keepers
to get their toes frost-bitten--in the afternoons, the winter
passed steadily on its way; the only stroke of misfortune being
that one of the dogs died suddenly and that a post-mortem did
not reveal any sufficient cause of death. This was the third
animal that had died without apparent reason at winter-quarters,
and Scott became more than ever convinced that to place any
confidence in the dog teams would be a mistake.
On Monday, May 22, Scott, Wilson, Bowers, Atkinson, P.O. Evans
and Clissold went off to Cape Royds with a go-cart which consisted
of a framework of steel tubing supported on four bicycle wheels--
and sleeping-bags, a cooker and a small quantity of provisions.
The night was spent in Shackleton's hut, where a good quantity of
provisions was found; but the most useful articles that the party
discovered were five hymn-books, for hitherto the Sunday services
had not been fully choral because seven hymn-books were all that
could be mustered.
[Illustration: "Birdie" Bowers reading the thermometer on the
ramp, June 6th, 1911.]
June 6 was Scott's birthday, a fact which his small company did
not forget. At lunch an immense birthday cake appeared, the top
of which had been decorated by Clissold with various devices in
chocolate and crystallized fruit, a flag and photographs of Scott.
A special dinner followed, and to this sumptuous meal they sat
down with their sledge banners hung around them. 'After this
luxurious meal everyone was very festive and amiably argumentative.
As I write there is a group in the dark room discussing political
progress with large discussions, another at one corner of the
dinner table airing its views on the origin of matter and the
probability of its ultimate discovery, and yet another debating
military problems.... Perhaps these arguments are practically
unprofitable, but they give a great deal of pleasure to the
participants.... They are boys, all of them, but such excellent
good-natured ones; there has been no sign of sharpness or anger,
no jarring note, in all these wordy contests; all end with a
laugh. Nelson has offered Taylor a pair of socks to teach him
some geology! This lulls me to sleep!'
On Monday evening, June 12, E. Evans gave a lecture on surveying,
and Scott took the opportunity to note a few points to which he
wanted especial attention to be directed. The essential points
were:
1. Every officer who takes part in the Southern journey ought to
have in his memory the approximate variation of the compass
at various stages of the journey and to know how to apply it
to obtain a true course from the compass....
2. He ought to know what the true course is to reach one depôt
from another.
3. He should be able to take an observation with the theodolite.
4. He should be able to work out a meridian altitude observation.
5. He could advantageously add to his knowledge the ability to
work out a longitude observation or an ex-meridian altitude.
6. He should know how to read the sledgemeter.
7. He should note and remember the error of the watch he carries
and the rate which is ascertained for it from time to time.
8. He should assist the surveyor by noting the coincidences of
objects, the opening out of valleys, the observation of new
peaks, &c.
That these hints upon Polar surveying did not fall upon deaf ears
is proved by a letter Scott wrote home some four months later.
In it he says '"Cherry" has just come to me with a very anxious
face to say that I must not count on his navigating powers. For
the moment I didn't know what he was driving at, but then I
remembered that some months ago I said that it would be a good
thing for all the officers going South to have some knowledge of
navigation so that in emergency they would know how to steer a
sledge home. It appears that "Cherry" thereupon commenced a serious
and arduous course of abstruse navigational problems which he found
exceedingly tough and now despaired mastering. Of course there is
not one chance in a hundred that he will ever have to consider
navigation on our journey and in that one chance the problem must
be of the simplest nature, but it makes it much easier for me to
have men who take the details of one's work so seriously and who
strive so simply and honestly to make it successful.'
In Wilson's diary there is also this significant entry: 'Working at
latitude sights--mathematics which I hate--till bedtime. It will be
wiser to know a little navigation on the Southern sledge journey.'
Some time before Scott's suggestions stimulated his companions
to master subjects which they found rather difficult and irksome,
a regular daily routine had begun. About 7 A.M. Clissold began
to prepare breakfast, and half an hour later Hooper started to
sweep the floor and lay the table. Between 8 and 8.30 the men
were out and about doing odd jobs, Anton going off to feed the
ponies, Demetri to see to the dogs. Repeatedly Hooper burst upon
the slumberers with announcements of the time, and presently
Wilson and Bowers met in a state of nature beside a washing basin
filled with snow and proceeded to rub glistening limbs with this
chilly substance. A little later others with less hardiness could
be seen making the most of a meager allowance of water. A few
laggards invariably ran the nine o'clock rule very close, and
a little pressure had to be applied so that they should not delay
the day's work.
By 9.20 breakfast was finished, and in ten minutes the table
was cleared. Then for four hours the men were steadily employed
on a program of preparation for sledding. About 1.30 a cheerful
half-hour was spent over the mid-day meal, and afterwards, if
the weather permitted, the ponies were exercised, and those who
were not employed in this way generally exercised themselves
in some way or other. After this the officers went steadily on
with their special work until 6.30, when dinner was served and
finished within the hour. Then came reading, writing, games, and
usually the gramophone, but three nights of the week were given
up to lectures. At 11 P.M. the acetylene lights were put out,
and those who wished to stay up had to depend on candle-light.
The majority of candles, however, were extinguished by midnight,
and the night watchman alone remained awake to keep his vigil
by the light of an oil lamp.
Extra bathing took place either on Saturday afternoon or Sunday
morning; chins were shaven, and possibly clean clothes put on.
'Such signs, with the regular service on Sunday, mark the passage
of the weeks. It is not a very active life, perhaps, but certainly
not an idle one. Few of us sleep more than eight hours of the
twenty-four.'
On June 19, Day gave a lecture on his motor sledge and was very
hopeful of success, but Scott again expressed his doubts and
fears. 'I fear he is rather more sanguine in temperament than
his sledge is reliable in action. I wish I could have more
confidence in his preparations, as he is certainly a delightful
companion.' Three days later Midwinter was celebrated with great
festivities, and after lunch the Editor handed over the first
number of the S. P. T. to Scott. Everyone at once gathered at
the top of the table; 'It was like a lot of schoolgirls round a
teacher' is the editor's description of the scene, and Scott read
aloud most of the contents. An article called 'Valhalla,' written
by Taylor, some verses called 'The Sleeping Bag,' and Wilson's
illustrations to 'Antarctic Archives' were the popular favorites;
indeed the editor attributed the success of the paper mainly to
Wilson, though Day's delightful cover of carved venesta wood and
sealskin was also 'a great help.' As all the contributions were
anonymous great fun was provided by attempts to guess the various
authors, and some of the denials made by the contributors were
perhaps more modest than strictly truthful.
These festive proceedings, however, were almost solemn when compared
with the celebrations of the evening. In preparation for dinner the
'Union Jacks' and sledge flags were hung about the large table, and
at seven o'clock everyone sat down to a really good dinner.
Scott spoke first, and drew attention to the nature of the
celebration as a half-way mark not only in the winter but in
the plans of the expedition. Fearing in his heart of hearts that
some of the company did not realize how rapidly the weeks were
passing, and that in consequence work which ought to have been in
full swing had barely been begun, he went on to say that it was
time they knew how they stood in every respect, and especially
thanked the officer in charge of the stores and those who looked
after the animals, for knowing the exact position as regards
provision and transport. Then he said that in respect to the
future chance must play a great part, but that experience showed
him that no more fitting men could have been chosen to support
him on the journey to the South than those who were to start in
that direction in the following spring. Finally he thanked all
of his companions for having put their shoulders to the wheel
and given him so much confidence.
Thereupon they drank to the Success of the Expedition, and
afterwards everyone was called to speak in turn.
'Needless to say, all were entirely modest and brief; unexpectedly,
all had exceedingly kind things to say of me--in fact I was obliged
to request the omissions of compliments at an early stage.
Nevertheless it was gratifying to have a really genuine recognition
of my attitude towards the scientific workers of the expedition,
and I felt very warmly towards all these kind, good fellows for
expressing it. If good will and fellowship count towards success,
very surely shall we deserve to succeed. It was matter for comment,
much applauded, that there had not been a single disagreement
between any two members of our party from the beginning. By the
end of dinner a very cheerful spirit prevailed.'
The table having been cleared and upended and the chairs arranged
in rows, Ponting displayed a series of slides from his own local
negatives, and then, after the healths of Campbell's party and
of those on board the Terra Nova had been drunk, a set of lancers
was formed. In the midst of this scene of revelry Bowers suddenly
appeared, followed by satellites bearing an enormous Christmas
tree, the branches of which bore flaming candles, gaudy crackers,
and little presents for everyone; the distribution of which caused
infinite amusement. Thus the high festival of Midwinter was
celebrated in the most convivial way, but that it was so reminiscent
of a Christmas spent in England was partly, at any rate, due to
those kind people who had anticipated the celebration by providing
presents and other tokens of their interest in the expedition.
'Few,' Scott says, 'could take great exception to so rare an
outburst in a long run of quiet days. After all we celebrated
the birth of a season, which for weal or woe must be numbered
amongst the greatest in our lives.'
CHAPTER V
WINTER
Come what may
Time and the hour runs through the darkest day.
--SHAKESPEARE.
During the latter part of June the Cape Crozier Party were busy
in making preparations for their departure. The object of their
journey to the Emperor penguin rookery in the cold and darkness
of an Antarctic winter was to secure eggs at such a stage as
could furnish a series of early embryos, by means of which alone
the particular points of interest in the development of the bird
could be worked out. As the Emperor is peculiar in nesting at
the coldest season of the year, this journey entailed the risk
of sledge traveling in mid-winter, and the travelers had also to
traverse about a hundred miles of the Barrier surface, and to
cross a chaos of crevasses which had previously taken a party as
much as two hours to cross by daylight.
[Illustration: Pitching the double tent on the summit.
(P.O. Evans; Dr. Wilson.)]
Such was the enterprise for which Wilson, Bowers and Cherry-Garrard
were with the help of others making preparations, and apart
from the extraordinarily adventurous side of this journey, it
was most interesting because the travelers were to make several
experiments. Each man was to go on a different food scale,
eiderdown sleeping-bags were to be carried inside the reindeer
ones, and a new kind of crampon and a double tent were to be
tried. 'I came across a hint as to the value of a double tent
in Sverdrup's book, "New Land,"' Scott wrote on June 20, 'and
P.O. Evans has made a lining for one of the tents, it is secured
on the inner side of the poles and provides an air space inside
the tent. I think it is going to be a great success.'
By the 26th preparations for the party to start from Cape Evans
were completed, their heavy load when they set out on the following
morning being distributed on two 9-foot sledges, 'This winter
travel is a new and bold venture, but the right men have gone
to attempt it. All good luck go with them!'
While the winter travelers were pursuing their strenuous way work
went steadily on at Cape Evans, with no exciting nor alarming
incident until July 4. On the morning of that day the wind blew
furiously, but it moderated a little in the afternoon when Atkinson
and Gran, without Scott's knowledge, decided to start over the
floe for the North and South Bay thermometers respectively. This
happened at 5.30 P.M., and Gran had returned by 6.45, but not
until later did Scott hear that he had only gone two or three
hundred yards from the land, and that it had taken him nearly
an hour to find his way back.
Atkinson's continued absence passed unnoticed until dinner was
nearly finished, but Scott did not feel seriously alarmed until
the wind sprang up again and still the wanderer did not return. At
9.30, P.O. Evans, Crean and Keohane, who had been out looking for
him, returned without any news, and the possibility of a serious
accident had to be faced. Organized search parties were at once
dispatched, Scott and Clissold alone remaining in the hut. And as
the minutes slipped slowly by Scott's fears naturally increased,
as Atkinson had started for a point not much more than a mile off
and had been away more than five hours. From that fact only one
conclusion could be drawn, and there was but small comfort to be
got from the knowledge that every spot which was likely to be the
scene of an accident would be thoroughly searched.
Thus 11 o'clock came, then 11.30 with its six hours of absence;
and the strain of waiting became almost unbearable. But a quarter
of an hour later Scott heard voices from the Cape, and presently,
to his extreme relief, Meares and Debenham appeared with Atkinson,
who was badly frost-bitten in the hand, and, as was to be expected
after such an adventure, very confused.
At 2 A.M. Scott wrote in his diary, 'The search parties have
returned and all is well again, but we must have no more of these
very unnecessary escapades. Yet it is impossible not to realize
that this bit of experience has done more than all the talking
I could have ever accomplished to bring home to our people the
dangers of a blizzard.'
On investigation it was obvious that Atkinson had been in great
danger. First of all he had hit Inaccessible Island, and not
until he arrived in its lee did he discover that his hand was
frost-bitten. Having waited there for some time he groped his
way to the western end, and then wandering away in a swirl of
drift to clear some irregularities at the ice-foot, he completely
lost the island when he could only have been a few yards from it.
In this predicament he clung to the old idea of walking up wind,
and it must be considered wholly providential that on this course
he next struck Tent Island. Round this island he walked under the
impression that it was Inaccessible Island, and at last dug
himself a shelter on its lee side. When the moon appeared he
judged its bearing well, and as he traveled homeward was vastly
surprised to see the real Inaccessible Island appear on his left.
'There can be no doubt that in a blizzard a man has not only
to safeguard the circulation in his limbs, but must struggle
with a sluggishness of brain and an absence of reasoning power
which is far more likely to undo him.'
About mid-day on Friday, July 7, the worst gale that Scott had
ever known in Antarctic regions began, and went on for a week.
The force of the wind, although exceptional, had been equaled
earlier in the year, but the extraordinary feature of this gale
was the long continuance of a very cold temperature. On Friday
night the thermometer registered -39°, and throughout Saturday
and the greater part of Sunday it did not rise above -35°. It
was Scott's turn for duty on Saturday night, and whenever he had
to go out of doors the impossibility of enduring such conditions
for any length of time was impressed forcibly upon him. The fine
snow beat in behind his wind guard, the gusts took away his breath,
and ten paces against the wind were enough to cause real danger
of a frost-bitten face. To clear the anemometer vane he had to go
to the other end of the hut and climb a ladder; and twice while
engaged in this task he had literally to lean against the wind
with head bent and face averted, and so stagger crab-like on his
course.
By Tuesday the temperature had risen to +5° or +7°, but the gale
still continued and the air was thick with snow. The knowledge,
however, that the dogs were comfortable was a great consolation to
Scott, and he also found both amusement and pleasure in observing
the customs of the people in charge of the stores. The policy
of every storekeeper was to have something up his sleeve for a
rainy day, and an excellent policy Scott thought it. 'Tools, metal
material, leather, straps, and dozens of items are administered
with the same spirit of jealous guardianship by Day, Lashly,
Oates and Meares, while our main storekeeper Bowers even affects
to bemoan imaginary shortages. Such parsimony is the best guarantee
that we are prepared to face any serious call.'
For an hour on Wednesday afternoon the wind moderated, and the
ponies were able to get a short walk over the floe, but this was
only a temporary lull, for the gale was soon blowing as furiously
as ever. And the following night brought not only a continuance
of the bad weather but also bad news. At mid-day one of the best
ponies, Bones, suddenly went off his feed, and in spite of Oates'
and Anton's most careful attention he soon became critically ill.
Oates gave him an opium pill and later on a second, and sacks
were heated and placed on the suffering animal, but hour after
hour passed without any improvement. As the evening wore on
Scott again and again visited the stable, only to hear the same
tale from Oates and Crean, [Footnote: Bones was the pony which
had been allotted to Crean.] who never left their patient.
'Towards midnight,' Scott says, 'I felt very downcast. It is so
certain that we cannot afford to lose a single pony--the margin of
safety has already been overstepped, we are reduced to face the
circumstance that we must keep all the animals alive or greatly
risk failure.'
Shortly after midnight, however, there were signs of an improvement,
and two or three hours afterwards the pony was out of danger and
proceeded to make a rapid and complete recovery. So far, since the
return to Cape Evans, the ponies had given practically no cause for
anxiety, and in consequence Scott's hopes that all would continue
to be well with them had steadily grown; but this shock shattered
his sense of security, and although various alterations were made
in the arrangements of the stables and extra precautions were taken
as regards food, he was never again without alarms for the safety
of the precious ponies.
Another raging blizzard swept over Cape Evans on July 22 and 23,
but the spirit of good comradeship still survived in spite of the
atrocious weather and the rather monotonous life. 'There is no
longer room for doubt that we shall come to our work with a unity
of purpose and a disposition for mutual support which have never
been equaled in these paths of activity. Such a spirit should tide
us over all minor difficulties.'
By the end of the month Scott was beginning to wonder why the
Crozier Party did not return, but on Tuesday, August 1, they
came back looking terribly weather-worn and 'after enduring for
five weeks the hardest conditions on record.' Their faces were
scarred and wrinkled, their eyes dull, and their hands whitened
and creased with the constant exposure to damp and cold. Quite
obviously the main part of their afflictions arose from sheer
lack of sleep, and after a night's rest they were very different
people both in mind and body.
Writing on August 2, Scott says, 'Wilson is very thin, but this
morning very much his keen, wiry self--Bowers is quite himself
to-day. Cherry-Garrard is slightly puffy in the face and still
looks worn. It is evident that he has suffered most severely--but
Wilson tells me that his spirit never wavered for a moment. Bowers
has come through best, all things considered, and I believe that
he is the hardest traveler that ever undertook a Polar journey,
as well as one of the most undaunted; more by hint than direct
statement I gather his value to the party, his untiring energy
and the astonishing physique which enables him to continue to
work under conditions which are absolutely paralyzing to others.
Never was such a sturdy, active, undefeatable little man.'
Gradually Scott gathered an account of this wonderful journey
from the three travelers who had made it. For more than a week
the thermometer fell below -60°, and on one night the minimum
showed -71°, and on the next -77°. Although in this fearful cold
the air was comparatively still, occasional little puffs of wind
eddied across the snow plain with blighting effect. 'No civilized
being has ever encountered such conditions before with only a
tent of thin canvas to rely on for shelter.' Records show that
Amundsen when journeying to the N. magnetic pole met temperatures
of a similar degree, but he was with Esquimaux who built him
an igloo shelter nightly, he had also a good measure of daylight,
and finally he turned homeward and regained his ship after five
days' absence, while this party went outward and were absent for
five weeks.
Nearly a fortnight was spent in crossing the coldest region,
and then rounding C. Mackay they entered the wind-swept area.
Blizzard followed blizzard, but in a light that was little better
than complete darkness they staggered on. Sometimes they found
themselves high on the slopes of Terror on the left of the track,
sometimes diving on the right amid crevasses and confused ice
disturbance. Having reached the foothills near Cape Crozier they
ascended 800 feet, packed their belongings over a moraine ridge,
and began to build a hut. Three days were spent in building the
stone walls and completing the roof with the canvas brought for
the purpose, and then at last they could attend to the main object
of their journey.
The scant twilight at mid-day was so short that a start had to be
made in the dark, and consequently they ran the risk of missing
their way in returning without light. At their first attempt they
failed to reach the penguin rookery, but undismayed they started
again on the following day, and wound their way through frightful
ice disturbances under the high basalt cliffs. In places the rock
overhung, and at one spot they had to creep through a small channel
hollowed in the ice. At last the sea-ice was reached, but by that
time the light was so far spent that everything had to be rushed.
Instead of the 2,000 or 3,000 nesting birds that had been seen
at this rookery in Discovery days, they could only count about a
hundred. As a reason for this a suggestion was made that possibly
the date was too early, and that if the birds had not permanently
deserted the rookery only the first arrivals had been seen.
With no delay they killed and skinned three penguins to get blubber
for their stove, and with six eggs, only three of which were saved,
made a hasty dash for their camp, which by good luck they regained.
On that same night a blizzard began, and from moment to moment
increased in fury. Very soon they found that the place where they
had, with the hope of shelter, built their hut, was unfortunately
chosen, for the wind instead of striking them directly was deflected
on to them in furious, whirling gusts. Heavy blocks of snow and
rock placed on the roof were hurled away and the canvas ballooned
up, its disappearance being merely a question of time.
Close to the hut they had erected their tent and had left several
valuable articles inside it; the tent had been well spread and
amply secured with snow and boulders, but one terrific gust tore
it up and whirred it away. Inside the hut they waited for the
roof to vanish, and wondered, while they vainly tried to make it
secure, what they could do if it went. After fourteen hours it
disappeared, as they were trying to pin down one corner. Thereupon
the smother of snow swept over them, and all they could do was
to dive immediately for their sleeping-bags. Once Bowers put
out his head and said, 'We're all right,' in as ordinary tones
as he could manage, whereupon Wilson and Cherry-Garrard replied,
'Yes, we're all right'; then all of them were silent for a night
and half a day, while the wind howled and howled, and the snow
entered every chink and crevice of their sleeping-bags.
'This gale,' Scott says, 'was the same (July 23) in which we
registered our maximum wind force, and it seems probable that
it fell on Cape Crozier even more violently than on us.'
The wind fell at noon on the following day, and the wretched
travelers then crept from their icy nests, spread the floorcloth
over their heads, and lit their primus. For the first time in
forty-eight hours they tasted food, and having eaten their meal
under these extraordinary conditions they began to talk of plans
to build shelters on the homeward route. Every night, they decided,
they must dig a large pit and cover it as best they could with
their floorcloth.
Fortune, however, was now to befriend them, as about half a mile
from the hut Bowers discovered their tent practically uninjured. But
on the following day when they started homeward another blizzard
fell upon them, and kept them prisoners for two more days.
By this time the miserable condition of their effects was beyond
description. The sleeping-bags could not be rolled up, in fact
they were so thoroughly frozen that attempts to bend them actually
broke the skins. All socks, finnesko, and mitts had long been
coated with ice, and when placed in breast-pockets or inside
vests at night they did not even show signs of thawing. Indeed
it is scarcely possible to realize the horrible discomforts of
these three forlorn travelers, as they plodded back across the
Barrier in a temperature constantly below -60°.
[Illustration: Adélie penguin on nest.]
[Illustration: Emperor penguins on sea-ice.]
'Wilson,' Scott wrote, 'is disappointed at seeing so little of
the penguins, but to me and to everyone who has remained here the
result of this effort is the appeal it makes to our imagination
as one of the most gallant stories of Polar history. That men
should wander forth in the depth of a Polar night to face the
most dismal cold and the fiercest gales in darkness is something
new; that they should have persisted in this effort in spite of
every adversity for five full weeks is heroic. It makes a tale
for our generation which I hope may not be lost in the telling.
'Moreover the material results are by no means despicable. We shall
know now when that extraordinary bird the Emperor penguin lays
its eggs, and under what conditions; but even if our information
remains meager concerning its embryology, our party has shown
the nature of the conditions which exist on the Great Barrier in
winter. Hitherto we have only imagined their severity; now we have
proof, and a positive light is thrown on the local climatology
of our Strait.'
Of the indomitable spirit shown by his companions on this journey
Cherry-Garrard gives wonderful and convincing proof in his diary.
Bowers, with his capacity for sleeping under the most distressing
conditions, was 'absolutely magnificent'; and the story of how
he arranged a line by which he fastened the cap of the tent to
himself, so that if it went away a second time it should not be
unaccompanied, is only one of the many tales of his resource and
determination.
In addition to the eggs that the party had brought back and the
knowledge of the winter conditions on the Barrier that they had
gained, their journey settled several points in connection with
future sledding work. They had traveled on a very simple food
ration in different and extreme proportions, for the only provisions
they took were pemmican, butter, biscuit and tea. After a short
experience they found that Wilson, who had arranged for the greatest
quantity of fat, had too much of it, while Cherry-Garrard, who had
declared for biscuit, had more than he could eat. Then a middle
course was struck which gave a proportion agreeable to all of them,
and which at the same time suited the total quantities of their
various articles of food. The only change that was suggested was
the addition of cocoa for the evening meal, because the travelers,
thinking that tea robbed them of their slender chance of sleep,
had contented themselves with hot water. 'In this way,' Scott
decided, 'we have arrived at a simple and suitable ration for the
inland plateau.'
Of the sleeping-bags there was little to be said, for although the
eiderdown bag might be useful for a short spring trip, it became
iced up too quickly to be much good on a long journey. Bowers
never used his eiderdown bag, [Footnote: He insisted upon giving
it to Cherry-Garrard. 'It was,' the latter says, 'wonderfully
self-sacrificing of him, more than I can write. I felt a brute
to take it, but I was getting useless unless I got some sleep,
which my big bag would not allow.'] and in some miraculous manner
he managed more than once to turn his reindeer bag. The weights
of the sleeping-bags before and after the journey give some idea
of the ice collected.
Starting Final
Weight Weight
Wilson, reindeer and eiderdown. 17 lbs. 40 lbs.
Bowers, reindeer only. 17 " 33 "
C.-Garrard, reindeer and eiderdown. 18 " 45 "
The double tent was considered a great success, and the new crampons
were much praised except by Bowers, whose fondness for the older
form was not to be shaken. 'We have discovered,' Scott stated
in summing up the results of the journey, 'a hundred details of
clothes, mitts, and footwear: there seems no solution to the
difficulties which attach to these articles in extreme cold; all
Wilson can say, speaking broadly, is "The gear is excellent,
excellent." One continues to wonder as to the possibilities of
fur clothing as made by the Esquimaux, with a sneaking feeling
that it may outclass our more civilized garb. For us this can
only be a matter of speculation, as it would have been quite
impossible to have obtained such articles. With the exception
of this radically different alternative, I feel sure we are as
near perfection as experience can direct. At any rate we can
now hold that our system of clothing has come through a severer
test than any other, fur included.'
With the return of the Cape Crozier Party lectures were resumed,
and apart from one or two gales the weather was so good and the
returning light so stimulating both to man and beast, that the
spirits of the former rose apace while those of the latter became
almost riotous when exercised. On August 10, Scott and the new
masters were to take charge on September 1, so that they could
exercise their respective animals and get to know them as well
as possible. The new arrangement was:
Bowers Victor
Wilson Nobby
Atkinson Jehu
Wright Chinaman
Cherry-Garrard Michael
Evans (P.O.) Snatcher
Crean Bones
Keohane Jimmy Pigg
Oates Christopher
Scott and Oates Snippets.
On the same day Oates gave his second excellent lecture on 'Horse
Management,' and afterwards the problem of snow-shoes was seriously
discussed. Besides the problem of the form of the shoes was also
the question of the means of attachment, and as to both points
all sorts of suggestions were made. At that time Scott's opinion
was that the pony snow-shoes they had, which were made on the
grating or racquet principle, would probably be the best, the
only alternative seeming to be to perfect the principle of the
lawn mowing shoe. 'Perhaps,' he adds, 'we shall come to both
kinds: the first for the quiet animals and the last for the more
excitable. I am confident the matter is of first importance.'
Ten days later Scott had to admit that the ponies were becoming
a handful, and for the time being they would have been quite
unmanageable if they had been given any oats. As it was,
Christopher, Snippets and Victor were suffering from such high
spirits that all three of them bolted on the 21st.
A prolonged gale arrived just as the return of the sun was due,
and for three days everyone was more or less shut up in the hut.
Although the temperature was not especially low anyone who went
outside for even the briefest moment had to dress in wind clothes,
because exposed woolen or cloth materials became so instantaneously
covered with powdery crystals, that when they were brought back
into the warmth they were soon wringing wet. When, however, there
was no drift it was quicker and easier to slip on an overcoat, and
for his own garment of this description Scott admits a sentimental
attachment. 'I must confess,' he says, 'an affection for my veteran
uniform overcoat, inspired by its persistent utility. I find that
it is twenty-three years of age and can testify to its strenuous
existence. It has been spared neither rain, wind, nor salt sea
spray, tropic heat nor Arctic cold; it has outlived many sets of
buttons, from their glittering gilded youth to green old age, and
it supports its four-stripe shoulder straps as gaily as the single
lace ring of the early days which proclaimed it the possession of
a humble sub-lieutenant. Withal it is still a very long way from
the fate of the "one-horse shay."'
Not until August 26 did the sun appear, and everyone was at once
out and about and in the most cheerful frame of mind. The shouts
and songs of men could be heard for miles, and the outlook on
life of every member of the expedition seemed suddenly to have
changed. For if there is little that is new to be said about the
return of the sun in Polar regions, it must always be a very real
and important event to those who have lived without it for so many
months, and who have almost forgotten the sensation of standing in
brilliant sunshine.
CHAPTER VI
GOOD-BYE TO CAPE EVANS
So far as I can venture to offer an opinion on such a matter,
the purpose of our being in existence, the highest object that
human beings can set before themselves, is not the pursuit of
any such chimera as the annihilating of the unknown; but it is
simply the unwearied endeavor to remove its boundaries a little
further from our little sphere of action.
--HUXLEY.
With the return of the sun preparations for the summer campaign
continued more zealously and industriously than ever, and what
seemed like a real start was made when Meares and Demetri went
off to Hut Point on September 1 with the dog teams. For such an
early departure there was no real reason unless Meares hoped to
train the dogs better when he had got them to himself; but he
chose to start, and Scott, after setting out the work he had to
do, left him to come and go between the two huts as he pleased.
Meanwhile with Bowers' able assistance Scott set to work at sledding
figures, and although he felt as the scheme developed that their
organization would not be found wanting, he was also a little
troubled by the immense amount of detail, and by the fact that
every arrangement had to be more than usually elastic, so that
both the complete success and the utter failure of the motors
could be taken fully into account. 'I think,' he says, 'that our
plan will carry us through without the motors (though in that
case nothing else must fail), and will take full advantage of
such help as the motors may give.'
The spring traveling could not be extensive, because of necessity
the majority of the company had to stay at home and exercise the
ponies, which was not likely to be a light task when the food of
these enterprising animals was increased. E. Evans, Gran and Forde,
however, were to go and re-mark Corner Camp, and then Meares with
his dogs was to carry as much fodder there as possible, while
Bowers, Simpson, P.O. Evans and Scott were to 'stretch their legs'
across the Western Mountains.
[Illustration: Dog party starting from Hut Point.]
[Illustration: Dog lines.]
During the whole of the week ending on September 10, Scott was
occupied with making detailed plans for the Southern journey,
every figure being checked by Bowers, 'who has been an enormous
help.' And later on, in speaking of the transport department,
Scott says, 'In spite of all the care I have taken to make the
details of my plan clear by lucid explanation, I find that Bowers
is the only man on whom I can thoroughly rely to carry out the
work without mistakes.' The result of this week's work and study
was that Scott came to the conclusion that there would be no
difficulty in getting to the Glacier if the motors were successful,
and that even if the motors failed they still ought to get there
with any ordinary degree of good fortune. To work three units of
four men from that point onward would, he admitted, take a large
amount of provisions, but with the proper division he thought that
they ought to attain their object. 'I have tried,' he said, 'to take
every reasonable possibility of misfortune into consideration;...
I fear to be too sanguine, yet taking everything into consideration
I feel that our chances ought to be good. The animals are in
splendid form. Day by day the ponies get fitter as their exercise
increases.... But we cannot spare any of the ten, and so there must
always be anxiety of the disablement of one or more before their
work is done.'
Apart from the great help he would obtain if the motors were
successful, Scott was very eager that they should be of some
use so that all the time, money and thought which had been given
to their construction should not be entirely wasted. But whatever
the outcome of these motors, his belief in the possibility of
motor traction for Polar work remained, though while it was in
an untried and evolutionary state he was too cautious and wise
a leader to place any definite reliance upon it.
If, however, Scott was more than a little doubtful about the motors,
he was absolutely confident about the men who were chosen for the
Southern advance. 'All are now experienced sledge travelers, knit
together with a bond of friendship that has never been equaled
under such circumstances. Thanks to these people, and more
especially to Bowers and Petty Officer Evans, there is not a
single detail of our equipment which is not arranged with the
utmost care and in accordance with the tests of experience.'
On Saturday, September 9, E. R. Evans, Forde and Gran left for
Corner Camp, and then for a few days Scott was busy finishing
up the Southern plans, getting instruction in photography, and
preparing for his journey to the west. On the Southern trip he had
determined to make a better show of photographic work than had yet
been accomplished, and with Ponting as eager to help others as he
was to produce good work himself an invaluable instructor was at
hand.
With the main objects of having another look at the Ferrar Glacier
and of measuring the stakes put out by Wright in the previous
year, of bringing their sledge impressions up to date, and of
practicing with their cameras, Scott and his party started off
to the west on the 15th, without having decided precisely where
they were going or how long they would stay away.
Two and a half days were spent in reaching Butter Point, and then
they proceeded up the Ferrar Glacier and reached the Cathedral
Rocks on the 19th. There they found the stakes placed by Wright
across the glacier, and spent the remainder of that day and the
whole of the next in plotting accurately their position. 'Very
cold wind down glacier increasing. In spite of this Bowers wrestled
with theodolite. He is really wonderful. I have never seen anyone
who could go on so long with bare fingers. My own fingers went
every few moments.'
After plotting out the figures it turned out that the movement
varied from 24 to 32 feet, an extremely important observation,
and the first made on the movements of the coastal glaciers.
Though a greater movement than Scott expected to find, it was
small enough to show that the idea of comparative stagnation was
correct. On the next day they came down the Glacier, and then went
slowly up the coast, dipping into New Harbor, where they climbed
the moraine, took angles and collected rock specimens. At Cape
Bernacchi a quantity of pure quartz was found, and in it veins of
copper ore--an interesting discovery, for it was the first find
of minerals suggestive of the possibility of working.
On the next day they sighted a long, low ice wall, and at a distance
mistook it for a long glacier tongue stretching seaward from the
land. But as they approached it they saw a dark mark, and it
suddenly dawned upon them that the tongue was detached from the
land. Half recognizing familiar features they turned towards it,
and as they got close they saw that it was very like their old
Erebus Glacier Tongue. Then they sighted a flag upon it, and
realized that it was the piece broken off from the Erebus Tongue.
Near the outer end they camped, and climbing on to it soon found
the depôt of fodder left by Campbell, and the line of stakes
planted to guide the ponies in the autumn. So there, firmly
anchored, was the piece broken from the Glacier Tongue in the
previous March, a huge tract about two miles long which had
turned through half a circle, so that the old western end was
towards the east. 'Considering the many cracks in the ice mass
it is most astonishing that it should have remained intact
throughout its sea voyage. At one time it was suggested that the
hut should be placed on this Tongue. What an adventurous voyage
the occupants would have had! The Tongue which was 5 miles south
of Cape Evans is now 4° miles W.N.W. of it.'
[Illustration: Panorama at Cape Evans. (Cliffs of Barne Glacier;
Open Sea; Mount Erebus.)]
[Illustration: Berg in South Bay.]
From the Glacier Tongue they still pushed north, and on the 24th,
just before the fog descended upon them, they got a view along
the stretch of coast to the north. So far the journey had been
more pleasant than Scott had anticipated, but two days after they
had turned back a heavy blizzard descended upon them, and although
an attempt was made to continue marching, they were soon compelled
to camp. After being held up completely on the 27th they started
again on the following day in a very frost-biting wind. From time
to time they were obliged to halt so that their frozen features
could be brought round, Simpson suffering more than the rest of
the party; and with drift coming on again they were weather-bound
in their tent during the early part of the afternoon. At 3 P.M.,
however, the drift ceased, and they started off once more in a
wind as biting as ever. Then Scott saw an ominous yellow fuzzy
appearance on the southern ridges of Erebus, and knew that another
snowstorm was approaching; but hoping that this storm would miss
them, he kept on until Inaccessible Island was suddenly blotted
out. Thereupon a rush was made for a camp site, but the blizzard
swept upon them, and in the driving snow they found it utterly
impossible to set up their inner tent, and could only just manage
to set up the outer one. A few hours later the weather again
cleared, and as they were more or less snowed up, they decided
to push for Cape Evans in spite of the wind. 'We arrived in at
1.15 A.M., pretty well done. The wind never let up for an instant;
the temperature remained about -16°, and the 21 statute miles
which we marched in the day must be remembered amongst the most
strenuous in my memory.... The objects of our little journey
were satisfactorily accomplished, but the greatest source of
pleasure to me is to realize that I have such men as Bowers and
P.O. Evans for the Southern journey. I do not think that harder
men or better sledge travelers ever took the trail. Bowers is
a little wonder. I realize all that he must have done for the
C. Crozier Party in their far severer experience.'
Late as the hour was when the travelers appeared at Cape Evans,
everyone was soon up and telling Scott what had happened during
his absence. E. Evans, Gran and Forde had reached Corner Camp and
found that it showed up well, and consequently all anxiety as to
the chance of finding One Ton Camp was removed. Forde, however,
had got his hand so badly frost-bitten that he was bound to be
incapacitated for some time, and this meant that the arrangements
that had already been made for a geological party to go to the
west would in all probability have to be altered.
All of the ponies were reported to be very well, but Scott's joy
at this news vanished on October 3 when Atkinson reported that
Jehu was still too weak to pull a load. Oates also was having
great trouble with Christopher, who did not appreciate being
harnessed and generally bolted at the mere sight of a sledge.
'He is going,' Scott, in referring to this most intractable pony,
wrote, 'to be a trial, but he is a good strong pony and should
do yeoman service. Day is increasingly hopeful about the motors.
He is an ingenious person and has been turning up new rollers out
of a baulk of oak supplied by Meares, and with Simpson's small
motor as a lathe. The motors may save the situation.'
On the 5th Scott made a thorough inspection of Jehu and became
convinced that he was useless. Chinaman and James Pigg were also
no towers of strength. 'But the other seven are in fine form and
must bear the brunt of the work somehow. If we suffer more loss
we shall depend on the motor, and then!... well, one must face
the bad as well as the good.'
During the following day, after Christopher had given his usual
exhibition at the start, Wilson, Oates, Cherry-Garrard and Crean
went over to Hut Point with their ponies; and late on the same
afternoon the Hut Point telephone bell suddenly rang. The line
had been laid by Meares some time before, but hitherto there
had been no communication. Now, however, Scott heard a voice and
found himself able to hold long conversations with Meares and
Oates. 'Not a very wonderful fact, perhaps, but it seems wonderful
in this primitive land to be talking to one's fellow beings 15
miles away. Oates told me that the ponies had arrived in fine
order, Christopher a little done, but carrying the heaviest load.
If we can keep the telephone going it will be a great boon,
especially to Meares later in the season.'
After service on Sunday morning Scott, continuing his course of
photography under the excellent instruction of Ponting, went out
to the Pressure Ridge, and thoroughly enjoyed himself. Worries,
however, were in store, for later in the afternoon, by which
time Scott had returned to the hut, a telephone message from
Nelson's igloo brought the news that Clissold had fallen from a
berg and hurt his back. In three minutes Bowers had organized a
sledge party, and fortunately Atkinson was on the spot and able
to join it. Scott himself at once hurried over the land, and
found Ponting very distressed and Clissold practically insensible.
It appeared that Clissold had been acting as Ponting's 'model,'
and that they had been climbing about the berg to get pictures.
Ponting had lent his crampons and ice-axe to Clissold, but the
latter nevertheless missed his footing after one of the 'poses,'
and after sliding over a rounded surface of ice for some twelve
feet, had dropped six feet on to a sharp angle in the wall of
the berg. Unquestionably Clissold was badly hurt, and although
neither Wilson nor Atkinson thought that anything very serious
had happened, there was no doubt that the accident would prevent
him from taking the place allotted to him in the motor sledge
party. Thus there were two men on the sick list, and after all
the trouble that had been taken to get things ready for the summer
journeys Scott naturally felt that these misfortunes were more
than a little deplorable. On the other hand, all was going well
with the ponies, though Christopher's dislike to sledges seemed
rather to increase than to lessen. When once he was in the sledge
he had always behaved himself until October 13, when he gave a
really great exhibition of perversity. On this occasion a dog
frightened him, and having twisted the rope from Oates' hands
he bolted for all he was worth. When, however, he had obtained
his freedom, he set about most systematically to get rid of his
load. At first he gave sudden twists and thus dislodged two bales
of hay, but when he caught sight of some other sledges a better
idea at once struck him, and he dashed straight at them with
the evident intention of getting free of his load at one fell
swoop. Two or three times he ran for Bowers and then he turned
his attention to Keohane, his plan being to charge from a short
distance with teeth bared and heels flying. By this time his
antics had brought a small group to the scene, and presently
Oates, Bowers, Nelson and Atkinson managed to clamber on to the
sledge. Undaunted, however, by this human burden, he tried to
treat it as he had the bales of hay, and he did manage to dispose
of Atkinson with violence; but the others dug their heels into the
snow and succeeded at last in tiring him out. 'I am exceedingly
glad,' Scott says, 'there are not other ponies like him. These
capers promise trouble, but I think a little soft snow on the
Barrier may effectually cure them.'
On Tuesday, October 17, the motors were to be taken on to the floe,
but the attempt was not successful, the axle casing (aluminum)
splitting soon after the trial had begun. Once again Scott expressed
his conviction that the motors would be of little assistance,
though at the same time retaining his opinion that with more
experience they might have been of the greatest service. 'The
trouble is that if they fail, no one will ever believe this.'
The days at Cape Evans were now rapidly drawing to a close. Plans
and preparations occupied the attention of everyone, and Scott's
time was almost wholly occupied in preparing details and in writing.
'Words,' he said in a letter dated October, 1912, 'must always
fail me when I talk of Bill Wilson. I believe he really is the
finest character I eve |
