We sighted our first iceberg in latitude 62 degrees on the evening of Wednesday, December 7. Cheetham's squeaky hail came down from aloft and I went up to the crow's-nest to look at it, and from this time on we passed all kinds of icebergs, from the huge tabular variety to the little weathered water-worn bergs. Some we steamed quite close to and they seemed for all the world like great masses of sugar floating in the sea.

From latitudes 60 to 63 degrees we saw a fair number of birds: southern fulmars, whale birds, molly-mawks, sooty albatrosses, and occasionally Cape-pigeons still. Then the brown-backed petrels began to appear, sure precursors of the pack ice—it was in sight right enough the day after the brown-backs were seen. By breakfast time on December 9, when nearly in latitude 65 degrees, we were steaming through thin streams of broken pack with floes from six to twelve feet across. A few penguins and seals were seen, and by 10 a.m. no less than twenty-seven icebergs in sight. The newcomers to these regions were clustered in little groups on the forecastle and poop sketching and painting, hanging over the bows and gleefully watching this lighter stuff being brushed aside by our strong stem.

We were passing through pack all day, but the ice hereabouts was not close enough nor heavy enough to stop us appreciably. The ship was usually conned by Pennell and myself from the crow's-nest, and I took the ship very near one berg for Ponting to cinematograph it. We now began to see snow petrels with black beaks and pure white bodies, rather resembling doves. Also we saw great numbers of brown-backed petrels the first day in the pack, whole flights of them resting on the icebergs. The sun was just below the horizon at midnight and we had a most glorious sunset, which was first a blazing copper changing to salmon pink and then purple. The pools of water between the floes caught the reflection, the sea was perfectly still and every berg and ice-floe caught something of the delicate colour. Wilson, of course, was up and about till long after midnight sketching and painting. The Antarctic pack ice lends itself to water-colour work far better than to oils.

When conning the ship from up in the crow's-nest one has a glorious view of this great changing ice-field. Moving through lanes of clear blue water, cannoning into this floe and splitting it with iron-bound stem, overriding that and gnawing off a twenty ton lump, gliding south, east, west, through leads of open water, then charging an innocent-looking piece which brings the ship up all-standing, astern and ahead again, screwing and working the wonderful wooden ship steadily southward until perhaps two huge floes gradually narrow the lane and hold the little lady fast in their frozen grip.

This is the time to wait and have a look round: on one side floes the size of a football field, all jammed together, with their torn up edges showing their limits and where the pressure is taken. Then three or four bergs, carved from the distant Barrier, imprisoned a mile or so away, with the evening sun's soft rays casting beautiful shadows about them and kissing their glistening cliff faces.

Glancing down from the crow's-nest the ship throws deep shadows over the ice and, while the sun is just below the southern horizon, the still pools of water show delicate blues and greens that no artist can ever do justice to. It is a scene from fairyland.

I loved this part of the voyage, for I was in my element. At odd times during the night, if one can call it night, the crow's-nest would have visitors, and hot cocoa would be sent up in covered pots by means of signal halyards. The pack ice was new to all the ship's officers except myself, but they soon got into the way of conning and working through open water leads and, as time went on, distinguished the thinner ice from the harder and more dangerous stuff.

On December 10 we stopped the ship and secured her to a heavy floe from which we took in sufficient ice to make eight tons of fresh water, and whilst doing this Rennick sounded and obtained bottom in 1964 fathoms, fora-minifera and decomposed skeleton unicellular organs, also two pieces of black basic lava. Lillie and Nelson took plankton and water bottle samples to about 280 fathoms. A few penguins came round and a good many crab-eater seals were seen. In the afternoon we got under way again and worked for about eight miles through the pack, which was gradually becoming denser. About 2:30 p.m. I saw from the crow's-nest four seals on a floe. I slid down a backstay, and whilst the officer on watch worked the ship close to them, I got two or three others with all our firearms and shot the lot from the forecastle head. We had seal liver for dinner that night; one or two rather turned up their noses at it, but, as Scott pointed out, the time would come when seal liver would be a delicacy to dream about.

Campbell did not do much conning except in the early morning, as his executive duties kept him well occupied. The Polar sledge journey had its attractions, but Campbell's party were to have interesting work and were envied by many on board. For reasons which need not here be entered into Campbell had to abandon the King Edward VII. Land programme, but in these days his mob were known as the Eastern Party, to consist of the Wicked Mate, Levick, and Priestley, with three seamen, Abbott, Browning, and Dickason. Campbell had the face of an angel and the heart of a hornet. With the most refined and innocent smile he would come up to me and ask whether the Eastern Party could have a small amount of this or that luxury. Of course I would agree, and sure enough Bowers would tell me that Campbell had already appropriated a far greater share than he was ever entitled to of the commodity in question. This happened again and again, but the refined smile was irresistible and I am bound to say the Wicked Mate generally got away with it, for even Bowers, the incomparable, was bowled over by that smile.

We crossed the Antarctic Circle on the morning of the 10th, little dreaming in those happy days that the finest amongst us would never recross it again.

We took a number of deep-sea soundings, several of over 2000 fathoms, on this first southward voyage. Rennick showed himself very expert with the deep-sea gear and got his soundings far more easily than we had done in the "Discovery" and "Morning" days.

We were rather unfortunate as regards the pack ice met with, and must have passed through 400 miles of it from north to south. On my two previous voyages we had had easier conditions altogether, and then it had not mattered, but all with these dogs and ponies cooped up and losing condition, with the "Terra Nova" eating coal and sixty hungry men scoffing enormous meals, we did not seem to be doing much or getting on with the show. It was, of course, nobody's fault, but our patience was sorely tried.

We made frequent stops in the pack ice, even letting fires out and furling sail, and sometimes the ice would be all jammed up so that not a water hole was visible—this condition would continue for days. Then, for no apparent reason, leads would appear and black water-skies would tempt us to raise steam again. Scott himself showed an admirable patience, for the rest of us had something to occupy our time with. Pennell and I, for instance, were constantly taking sights and working them out to find our position and also to get the set and drift of the current. Then there were magnetic observations to be taken on board and out on the ice away from the magnetic influence of the ship, such as it was. Simpson had heaps to busy himself with, and Ponting was here, there, and everywhere with his camera and cinematograph machine. Had it not been for our anxiety to make southward progress, the time would have passed pleasantly enough, especially in fine weather. Days came when we could get out on the floe and exercise on ski, and Gran zealously looked to all our requirements in this direction.

December 11 witnessed the extraordinary sight of our company standing bareheaded on deck whilst Captain Scott performed Divine Service. Two hymns were sung, which broke strangely the great white silence. The weather was against us this day in that we had snow, thaw, and actually rain, but we could not complain on the score of weather conditions generally. Practically all the ship's company exercised on the floes while we remained fast frozen. Next day there was some slight loosening of the pack and we tried sailing through it and managed half a degree southward in the forty-eight hours. We got along a few miles here and there, but when ice conditions continued favourable for making any serious advance it was better to light up and push our way onward with all the power we could command. We got some heavy bumps on the 13th December and as this hammering was not doing the ship much good, since I was unable to make southing then at a greater rate than one mile an hour, we let fires right out and prepared, as Captain Scott said, "To wait till the clouds roll by." For the next few days there was not much doing nor did we experience such pleasant weather.

Constant visits were made to the crow's-nest in search of a way through. December 16 and 17 were two very gray days with fresh wind, snow, and some sleet. Affectionate memories of Captain Colbeck and the little relief ship, "Morning," came back when the wind soughed and whistled through the rigging: This sound is most uncanny and the ice always seemed to exaggerate any noise.

I hated the overcast days in the pack. It was bitterly cold in the crow's-nest however much one put on then, and water skies often turned out to be nimbus clouds after we had laboured and cannoned towards them. The light, too, tired and strained one's eyes far more than on clear days.

When two hundred miles into the pack the ice varied surprisingly. We would be passing through ice a few inches thick and then suddenly great floes four feet above the water and twelve to fifteen feet deep would be encountered. December 18 saw us steaming through tremendous leads of open water. A very funny occurrence was witnessed in the evening when the wash of the ship turned a floe over under water and on its floating back a fish was left stranded. It was a funny little creature, nine inches in length, a species of notathenia. Several snow petrels and a skua-gull made attempts to secure the fish, but the afterguard kept up such a chorus of cheers, hoots and howls that the birds were scared away till one of us secured the fish from the floe.

Early on the 19th we passed close to a large iceberg which had a shelving beach like an island. We began to make better progress to the south-westward and worked into a series of open leads. We came across our first emperor penguin, a young one, and two sea-leopards, besides crab-eater seals, many penguins, some giant petrels, and a Wilson petrel. That afternoon tremendous pieces of ice were passed; they were absolutely solid and regular floes, being ten to twelve feet above water and, as far as one could judge, about 50 feet below. The water here was beautifully clear.

We had now reached latitude 68 degrees and, as penguins were plentiful, Archer and Clissold, the cooks, made us penguin stews and "hooshes" to eke out our fresh provisions. Concerning the penguins, they frequently came and inspected the ship. One day Wilson and I chased some, but they continually kept just out of our reach; then Uncle Bill lay down on the snow, and when one, out of curiosity, came up to him he grabbed it by the leg and brought it to the ship, protesting violently, for all the world like a little old man in a dinner jacket. Atkinson and Wilson found a new kind of tapeworm in this penguin, with a head like a propeller. This worm has since been named after one of us!

We were now down to under 300 tons of coal, some of which had perforce to be landed, in addition to the 30 tons of patent fuel which were under the forward stores. I had no idea that Captain Scott could be so patient. He put the best face on everything, although he certainly was disappointed in the "Terra Nova" and her steaming capacity. He could not well have been otherwise when comparing her with his beloved "Discovery." Whilst in the pack our leader spent his time in getting hold of the more detailed part of our scientific programme and mildly tying the scientists in knots.

We had some good views of whales in the pack. Whenever a whale was sighted Wilson was called to identify it unless it proved to belong to one of the more common species. We saw Sibbald's whale; Rorquals, and many killer whales, but no Right whales were properly identified this trip.

I very much wanted to show Scott the island we had discovered in the first Antarctic Relief Expedition and named after him, but when in its vicinity snow squalls and low visibility prevented this.

On the 22nd Bowers, Wright, Griffith Taylor and myself chased a lot of young penguins on the ice and secured nine for our Christmas dinner. We spent a very pleasant Christmas this year, devoting great attention to food. We commenced the day with kidneys from our frozen meat store. Captain Scott conducted the Christmas church service and all hands attended since we had no steam up and were fast held in the pack. The ward-room was decorated with our sledge flags and a new blue tablecloth generally brightened up our Mess. We had fresh mutton for lunch and the seamen had their Christmas dinner at this time. The afterguard dined at 6.30 on fresh penguin, roast beef, plum pudding, mince pies, and asparagus, while we had champagne, port, and liqueurs to drink and an enormous box of Fry's fancy chocolates for dessert. This "mortal gorge" was followed by a sing-song lasting until midnight, nearly every one, even the most modest, contributing. Around the Christmas days we made but insignificant headway, only achieving thirty-one miles in the best part of the week, but on the 29th the floes became thin and the ice showed signs of recent formation, though intermingled with heavier floes of old and rotten ice. There was much diatomacea in the rotten floes. About 2.40 a.m. the ship broke through into a lead of open water six miles in length.

I spent the middle watch in the crow's-nest, Bowers being up there with me talking over the Expedition, his future and mine. He was a wonderful watch companion, especially when he got on to his favourite subject, India. He had some good tales to tell of the Persian Gulf, of days and weeks spent boat-cruising, of attacks made on gun-running dhows and kindred adventure. He told me that one dhow was boarded while he was up the Gulf, when the Arabs, waiting until most of the boat's crew of bluejackets were on board, suddenly let go the halyards of their great sail and let it down crash over the lot, the boom breaking many heads and the sail burying our seamen, while the Arabs got to work and practically scuppered the crowd.

Soon after 4 a.m. I went below and turned in, confident that we were nearing the southern extreme of the pack. Captain Scott awoke when I went into the cabin, pleased at the prospect, but after so many adverse ice conditions he shook his head, unwilling to believe that we should get clear yet awhile. I bet him ten sardine sandwiches that we should be out of the pack by noon on the 30th, and when I turned out at 8 o'clock I was delighted to find the ship steaming through thin floes and passing into a series of great open water leads. By 6 p.m. on the 29th a strong breeze was blowing, snow was falling, and we were punching along under steam and sail. Sure enough we got out of the pack early on the 30th and, cracking on all our canvas, were soon doing eight knots with a following wind.

Later in the day the wind headed us with driving snow, fine rain, and, unfortunately, a considerable head swell. This caused the ship to pitch so badly that the ponies began to give trouble again. Oates asked for the speed to be reduced, but we got over this by setting fore and aft sail and keeping the ship's head three or four points off the wind. New Year's Eve gave us another anxious time, for we encountered a hard blow from the S.S.E. It was necessary to heave the ship to most of the day under bare poles with the engines just jogging to keep the swell on her bow. A thin line of pack ice was sighted in the morning and this turned out to be quite a blessing in disguise, for I took the ship close to the edge of it and skirted along to leeward. The ice formed a natural break-water and damped the swell most effectually. The swell and sea in the open would have been too much for the ponies as it must be remembered that they had been in their stalls on board for five weeks.

We had now reached the Continental Shelf, the depth of water had changed from 1111 fathoms on the 30th to 180 fathoms this day. The biologists took advantage of our jogging along in the open water to trawl, but very few specimens were obtained. At midnight the "youth of the town" made the devil of a din by striking sixteen bells, blowing whistles on the siren, hooting with the foghorn, cheering and singing. What children we were, but what matter!

1911 came like the opening of a new volume of an exciting book. This was the year in which Scott hoped to reach the Pole, the ideal date he had given being December 21. This was the year that Campbell and his party were looking forward to so eagerly—if only they could be successful in landing their gear and equipment in King Edward VII. Land—and, for the less showy but more scientific sledgers, 1911 held a wealth of excitement in store. Griffith Taylor and Debenham knew pretty well that next New Year's Day would see them in the midst of their Western journey with the secrets of those rugged mountains revealed perhaps. I do not know what my own feelings were, it would be impossible to describe them. I read up part of Shackleton's diary and something of what his companion Wilde had written. Just this:

12 miles, 200 yards.—1/1/08.

"Started usual time. Quan (pony) got through the forenoon fairly well with assistance, but after lunch the poor chap broke down and we had to take him out of harness. Shackleton, Adams, and Marshall dragged his sledge, and I brought the ponies along with the other load. As soon as we camped I gave Quan the bullet, and Marshall and I cut him up. He was a tough one. I am cook this week with Marshall as my tent mate."

The more one read into Shackleton's story the more wonderful it all seemed, and with our resources failure appeared impossible—yet that telegram which Captain Scott had received at Melbourne:

"Beg leave to inform you proceeding Antarctic.
——AMUNDSEN."

We all knew that Amundsen had no previous Antarctic sledging experience, but no one could deny that to Norwegians ice-work, and particularly ski-ing, was second nature, and here lay some good food for thought and discussion. Where would the "Fram" enter the pack? Where would Amundsen make his base? The answers never once suggested anything like the truth.

Actually on New Year's Day Amundsen was between 500 and 600 miles north of us, but of Roald Amundsen more anon.

How strange to be once more in open water, able to steer whatever course we chose, with broad daylight all night, and at noon only a couple of days' run from Cape Crozier. Practically no ice in sight, but a sunlit summer sea in place of the pack, with blue sky and cumulo stratus clouds, so different from the gray, hard skies that hung so much over the great ice field we had just forced. The wind came fair as the day wore on and by 10 p.m. we were under plain sail, doing a good six knots. High mountains were visible to the west-ward, part of the Admiralty Range, two splendid peaks to be seen towering above the remainder, which appeared to be Mounts Sabine and Herschell. Coulman Island was seen in the distance during the day.

What odd thrills the sight of the Antarctic Continent sent through most of us. Land was first sighted late on New Year's Eve and I think everybody had come on deck at the cry "Land oh!" To me those peaks always did and always will represent silent defiance; there were times when they made me shudder, but it is good to have looked upon them and to remember them in those post-War days of general discontent, for they remind me of the four Antarctic voyages which I have made and of the unanimous goodwill that obtained in each of the little wooden ships which were our homes for so long. How infinitely distant those towering mountains seemed and how eternal their loneliness.

As we neared Cape Crozier Wilson became more and more interested. He was dreadfully keen on the beach there being selected as a base, and his enthusiasm was infectious. Certainly Scott was willing enough to try to effect a landing even apart from the advantage of having a new base. The Cape Crozier beach would probably mean a shorter journey to the Pole, for we should be spared the crevasses which radiated from White Island and necessitated a big detour being made to avoid them.

As we proceeded the distant land appeared more plainly and we were able to admire and identify the various peaks of the snow-clad mountain range. The year could not have opened more pleasantly. We had church in a warm sun, with a temperature several degrees above freezing point, and most of us spent our off-time basking in the sunshine, yarning, skylarking, and being happy in general.

We tried to get a white-bellied whale on the 2nd January, but our whale-gun did not seem to have any buck in it and the harpoon dribbled out a fraction of the distance it was expected to travel.

The same glorious weather continued on January 2, and Oates took five of the ponies on to the upper deck and got their stables cleared out. The poor animals had had no chance of being taken from their stalls for thirty-eight days, and their boxes were between two and three feet deep with manure. The four ponies stabled on the upper deck looked fairly well but were all stiff in their legs.

Rennick took soundings every forty or fifty miles in the Ross Sea, the depth varying from 357 fathoms comparatively close up to Cape Crozier to 180 fathoms in latitude 73 degrees.

Cape Crozier itself was sighted after breakfast on the 3rd, and the Great Ice Barrier appeared like a thin line on the southern horizon at 11.30 that morning. We were close to the Cape by lunch time, and by 1.30 we had furled sail in order to manoeuvre more freely. The "Terra Nova" steamed close up to the face of the Barrier, then along to the westward until we arrived in a little bay where the Barrier joins Cape Crozier. Quite a tide was washing past the cliff faces of the ice; it all looked very white, like chalk, while the sun was near the northern horizon, but later in the afternoon blue and green shadows were cast over the ice, giving it a softer and much more beautiful appearance. Ponting was given a chance to get some cinema films of the Barrier while we were cruising around, and then we stopped in the little bay where the Ice Barrier joins Cape Crozier, lowered a boat, and Captain Scott, Wilson, myself, and several others went inshore in a whaler. We were, however, unable to land as the swell was rather too heavy for boat work. We saw an Emperor penguin chick and a couple of adult Emperors, besides many AdÈlie penguins and skua-gulls. We pulled along close under the great cliffs which frown over the end of the Great Ice Barrier. They contrasted strangely in their blackness with the low crystal ice cliffs of the Barrier itself. In one place we were splashed by the spray from quite a large waterfall, and one realised that the summer sun, beating down on those black foothills, must be melting enormous quantities of ice and snow. A curious ozone smell, which must have been the stench of the guano from the penguin rookeries, was noticed, but land smells of any sort were pleasant enough now for it brought home to us the fact that we should shortly embark on yet another stage of the Expedition.

Pennell conned the ship close under the cliffs and followed the boat along the coast. The "Terra Nova" was quite dwarfed by the great rocky bluffs and we realised the height of the cliffs for the first time.

Whilst we were prospecting Nelson obtained water-bottle samples and temperatures at 10, 50, 100, and 200 fathoms. The deep water apparently continued to the foot of the cliff in most places but there were two or three tiny steep beaches close to the junction of the Barrier and Ross Island.

Captain Scott being satisfied that no landing was possible, we in the boat returned to the ship and proceeded in her to the penguin rookery, a mile or so farther west. When half a mile from the shore, we found the bottom rapidly shoaling, the least depth being 9 1/2 fathoms. Several small bergs were ashore hereabouts, but the swell breaking on the beach plainly told us that a landing was out of the question. After carefully searching the shore with glasses while the ship steamed slowly along it all, ideas of a landing were abandoned and we set course for McMurdo Sound. As soon as the ship was headed for her new destination we commenced to make a running survey of the coast to Cape Bird. This took until ten o'clock at night, and we found a great bight existed in Ross Island which quite changed its shape on the map. After 10 p.m. we ran into some fairly heavy pack ice, gave up surveying, and had a meal.

I went up to the crow's-nest in order to work the ship to the best advantage, and spent eleven hours on end there, but the excitement of getting the "Terra Nova" round Cape Bird and into McMurdo Sound made the time fly. Occasionally the ship crashed heavily as she charged her way through the ice masses which skirted the shore. Whilst I conned the ship leadsmen sounded carefully, and I was able to work her close in to the coast near Cape Bird and avoid some heavy ice which we could never have forced. At 4.30 a.m. I broke through the Cape Bird ice-field and worked the ship on as far as Cape Royds, which was passed about 6.30 a.m. Looking through our binoculars we noticed Shackleton's winter hut looking quite new and fresh.

Leaving Cape Royds we made our way up McMurdo's Sound as far as Inaccessible Island, where we found the Strait frozen over from east to west. Skirting along the edge of the sea ice I found there was no way in, although I endeavoured to break into it at several points to reach what looked like open water spaces a mile or two from the ice edge. Accordingly, we stopped and I came down to report on the outlook. Captain Scott, Wilson, and I eventually went aloft to the cross-trees and had a good look round; we finally decided to land and look at a place where there appeared to be a very good beach. In "Discovery" days this spot was known as the skuary, being a favourite nesting place for skua-gulls, a sort of little cape. I piloted the ship as close I could to this position, which is situate midway between Cape Bird and Cape Armitage on Ross Island. An ice anchor was laid out and then Scott, Wilson, and I landed on the sea ice and walked a mile or so over it to the little cape in question.

It appeared to be an ideal winter quarters, and was then and there selected as our base. Captain Scott named it Cape Evans, after me, for which I was very grateful. Wilson already had a Cape named after him on the Victoria Land coast in latitude 82 degrees.

We now returned on board and immediately commenced landing motor sledges, ponies, etc. For better working, once the various parties were landed, we adopted the standard time of meridian 180 degrees, in other words, twelve hours fast on Greenwich Mean Time.

We now organised ourselves into three parties and I gave up the command of the "Terra Nova" to Pennell till the ship returned from New Zealand next year. The charge of the transport over the one and a half miles of sea ice which lay between the ship and shore was given to Campbell, whilst I took charge of the Base Station, erection of huts, and so forth, Captain Scott himself supervising, planning and improving.

We continued getting stuff out on the ice until late at night, and by dinner time, 7 p.m., we had put two motor sledges, all the dogs and ponies ashore, besides most of the ordinary sledges and tents.

Next day we turned out all hands at 4.30, breakfasted at 5, started work at 6, and landed all the petrol, kerosene, and hut timber. Most of the haulage was done by motors and men, but a few runs were made with ponies. We erected a big tent on the beach at Cape Evans and in this the hut-building party and those who were stowing stores and unloading sledges on the beach got their meals and sleep. We worked continuously until 10 p.m. with only the shortest of meal intervals, and then, tired but contented, we "flattened out" in our sleeping-bags, bunks, or hammocks.

The following day the same routine was continued and nearly the whole of the provision cases came ashore and were stacked in neat little piles under Bowers's direction. This indefatigable little worker now devoted himself entirely to the western party stores. He knew every case and all about it. Each one weighed approximately 60 lb. We had purposely arranged that this should be so when ordering stores in London to save weight and space. The cases were made of Venesta 3-ply wood. Of course, the instruments and heavier scientific gear could not stow in these handy packages, but the sixty-pound-Venesta was adhered to whenever possible. The ponies were not worked till the afternoon of the 6th, and then only the best of them with light loads.

Davis, the carpenter, had with him seaman Ford, Keohane, and Abbot. Their routine was a little different from ours: they worked at hut building from 7 a.m. till midnight usually, and their results were little short of marvellous. Odd people helped them when they could, and of these Pouting showed himself to be facile princeps as carpenter. I never saw anything like the speed in which he set up tongued and grooved match boarding.

Day, Nelson, and Lashly worked with the motor sledges; the newest motor frequently towed loads of 2500 lb. over the ice at a six mile an hour speed. The oldest hauled a ton and managed six double trips a day. Day, the motor engineer, had been down here before—both he and Priestley came from the Shackleton Expedition. The former had a decidedly comic vein which made him popular all round. From start to finish Day showed himself to be the most undefeated sportsman, and it was not his fault that the motor sledges did badly in the end.

Perhaps my diary from January 7, 1911, to the 8th gives a good idea of the progress we were making with the base station and of the general working day here. It reads as follows:

"Saturday, January 7, 1911.

"All hands hard at work landing stores. Meares and Dimitri running dog teams to and fro for light gear.

"Captain Scott, Dr. Wilson, Griffith Taylor, Debenham, Cherry-Garrard, and Browning leading ponies. Campbell, Levick, and Priestley hauling sledges with colossal energy and enormous loads, the majority of the ship's party unloading stores; Bowers, two seamen, Atkinson, and I unloading sledges on the beach and carrying their contents up to their assigned positions, Simpson and Wright laying the foundations for a magnetic hut, and so on. Every one happy and keen, working as incessantly as ants. I took on the job of ice inspector, and three or four times a day I go out and inspect the ice, building snow bridges over the tide cracks and thin places. The ice, excepting the floe to which the ship is fast, is several feet thick. The floe by the 'Terra Nova' is very thin and rather doubtful. We, ashore, had dinner at 10 p.m. and turned in about 11."

But the following day, although included here, was by no means typical.

"Sunday, January 8.

"This morning a regrettable accident took place. The third and newest motor sledge was hoisted out and, while being hauled clear on to the firm ice, it broke through and sank in deep water. Campbell and Day came in with the news, which Captain Scott took awfully well.

"It was nobody's fault, as Simpson and Campbell both tested the floe
first and found it quite thick and apparently good. However, there it
is, in about 100 fathoms of water.

"We stopped sledging for the day and those on board shifted the ship
by warping, but could not get her into a satisfactory billet, so
raised steam.

"We spent the day working on the hut and putting chairs and benches together. Captain Scott put the sledge meters together and I helped him. These are similar to the distance meters on motor-cars. They register in nautical miles (6084 feet) and yards, to 25 yards or less by interpolation.

"Took a True Bearing and found the approximate variation for Simpson (149 degrees E.)."

On the following day those on board the ship shifted her to a new position alongside the fast ice, just under a mile from our beach. The transportation of stores continued and we got ashore a great number of bales of compressed fodder, also some Crown Preserve Patent Fuel. As there was nothing much to do on the beach my party lent a hand with the landing of fodder, and I led the ponies Miki, Jehu, and Blossom; the latter, having suffered greatly on the outward voyage, was in poor condition. Still, most of the ponies were doing well, and at night were picketed on a snowdrift behind the hut. They occasionally got adrift, but I usually heard them and got up to make them fast, my small sleeping-tent being right alongside their tethering space.

Nelson continued working with me unless the requirements of his biological work called him away. In less than a week we had the whole of our stores and equipment landed, and from the beginning many of us took up our quarters at Cape Evans itself. We pitched several small tents on the beach; and it was an agreeable change to roll up and sleep in a fur bag after the damp, cold berths we had occupied in the ship. Teddy Nelson became my particular friend in the shore party and shared a sledging tent with me. The rest of the shore staff paired off and slept in the small tents, while Captain Scott had one to himself. We called it the "Holy of Holies," and from the privacy of this tiny dwelling Scott issued his directions, supervised, planned, and improved whenever improvement could be made in anything. He had a marvellous brain and a marvellous way of getting the best possible work out of his subordinates, still he never spared himself. One did with extraordinary little sleep, and in the sunny days it became necessary to leave tent doors wide open, otherwise the close-woven wind-proof tent cloth kept all the fresh air out and one woke with a terrific head.

To rightly get hold of our wintering place one must imagine a low spit of land jutting out into a fiord running, roughly north and south and bounded on both sides by a steep-to coast line indented with glaciers of vast size. Here and there gigantic snow-slopes were to be seen which more gradually lowered into the sea, and all around ice-covered mountains with black and brown foothills. A few islands rose to heights of 300 or 400 feet in McMurdo Sound, and these had no snow on them worth speaking of even in the winter. The visible land was of black or chocolate-brown, being composed of volcanic tuff, basalts, and granite. There were occasional patches of ruddy brown and yellow which relieved the general black and white appearance of this uninhabitable land, and close to the shore on the north side of Cape Evans were small patches of even gritty sand. In the neighbourhood of our Cape hard, brittle rocks cropped up everywhere, rocks that played havoc with one's boots. Sloping up fairly steeply from Cape Evans itself we had more and more rock masses until a kind of rampart was reached, on which one could see a number of extraordinary conical piles of rock, which looked much as if they had been constructed by human hands for landmarks or surveying beacons—these were called debris cones. This part above and behind Cape Evans was christened The Ramp, and from it one merely had to step from boulders and stones on to the smooth blue ice-slope that extended almost without interruption to the summit of Erebus itself. From The Ramp one could gaze in wonder at that magnificent volcano, White Lady of the Antarctic, beautiful in her glistening gown of sparkling crystal with a stole of filmy smoke-cloud wrapped about her wonderful shoulders.

We used to gaze and gaze at that constantly changing smoke or steam which the White Lady breathes out at all seasons, and has done for thousands of years.

Those were such happy days during the first Cape Evans summer. For the most part we had hot weather and could wash in the thaw pools which formed from the melting snow, and even draw our drinking water from the cascades which bubbled over the sun-baked rock, much as they do in summer-time in Norway.

The progress made by Davis and his crew of voluntary carpenters was amazing. One week after our arrival at the Cape, Nelson, Meares, and I commenced to cut a cave out of the ice cap above our camp for stowing our fresh mutton in. When knock-off work-time came Bowers, Nelson, and I made our way over to the ship with a hundred gallons of ice from this cave to be used for drinking water, it all helped to save coal and nobody made a journey to or fro empty handed if it could be helped. Once on board we took the opportunity to bath and shave. In this country it is certainly a case of "Where I dines I sleeps," so after supper on board we coiled down in somebody's beds and slept till 5.30 next morning when we returned to camp and carried on all day, making great progress with the grotto, which was eventually lit by electric light. We had plenty of variety in the matter of work; one part of the grotto was intended for Simpson's magnetic work, and this was the illuminated section. Whenever people visited the ice caves we got them to do a bit of picking and hewing; even roping in Captain Scott, who did a healthy half-hour's work when he came along our way.

Scott and Wilson got their hands in at dog-driving now, as I did occasionally myself. Nobody could touch Meares or Dimitri at dog-team work, although later on Cherry-Garrard and Atkinson became the experts.

The hut was finished externally on January 12 and fine stables built up on its northern side. This complete, Bowers arranged an annexe on the south side from which to do the rationing and provision issues. How we blessed all this fine weather; it was hardly necessary to wear snow glasses, in spite of so much sunshine, for the glare was relieved by the dark rock and sand around us. When all the stores had been discharged from the ship she lightened up considerably, and Campbell then set to work to ballast her for Pennell. Meares amused the naval members of our party by asking, with a childlike innocence, "Had they got all the cargo out of the steamer?" There was nothing wrong in what he said, but the "Terra Nova," Royal Yacht Squadron—and "cargo" and "steamer"—how our naval pride was hurt!

Incidentally we called the sandy strand (before the winter snow came, and covered it, and blotted it all out) Hurrah Beach; the bay to the northward of the winter quarters we christened Happy Bay. Although our work physically was of the hardest we lived in luxury for a while. Nelson provided cocoa for Captain Scott and myself at midnight just before we slept. He used to make it after supper and keep it for us in a great thermos flask. We only washed once a week and we were soon black with sun and dirt but in splendid training. In the first three weeks my shore gang, which included the lusty Canadian physicist, Wright, carried many hundreds of cases, walked miles daily, dug ice, picked, shovelled, handed ponies, cooked and danced. Outwardly we were not all prototypes of "the Sentimental Bloke," but occasionally in the stillness of the summer nights, we some of us unbent a bit, when the sun stood low in the south and all was quiet and still, and we did occasionally build castles in the air and draw home-pictures to one another, pictures of English summers, of river picnics and country life that framed those distant homes in gold and made them look to us like little bits of heaven—however, what was more important, the stores were all out of the "Terra Nova," even to stationery, instruments, and chronometers, and we could have removed into the hut at a pinch a week before we did, or gone sledging, for that matter, had we not purposely delayed to give the ponies a chance to regain condition. It was certainly better to let the carpenter and his company straighten up first, and in our slack hours we, who were to live in the palatial hut, got the house in order, put up knick-knacks, and settled into our appointed corners with our personal gear and professional impedimenta only at the last moment, a day or two before the big depot-laying sledge journey was appointed to start. Simpson and Ponting had the best allotments in the hut, because the former had to accommodate anemometers, barometers, thermometers, motors, bells, and a diversity of scientific instruments, but yet leave room to sleep amongst them without being electrocuted, while the latter had to arrange a small-sized dark room, 8 ft. by 6 ft. floor dimension, for all his developing of films and plates, for stowing photographic gear and cinematograph, and for everything in connection with his important and beautiful work as camera artist to the Expedition. Ponting likewise slept where he worked, so a bed was also included in the dark room.

Before moving the chronometers ashore Pennell, Rennick, and I myself took astronomical observations to determine independently the position of the observation spot on the beach at Cape Evans. The preliminary position gave us latitude 77 degrees 38 minutes 23 seconds S. longitude 166 degrees 33 minutes 24 seconds E., a more accurate determination was arrived at by running meridian distances from New Zealand and taking occultations during the ensuing winter, for longitude: latitudes were obtained by the mean results of stars north and south and meridian altitudes of the sun above and below pole.

Before getting busy with the preliminaries for the big depot journey, I took stock of the fresh meat in the grotto. The list of frozen flesh which I handed over to Clissold, the cook, looked luxurious enough, for it included nothing less than 700 lb. of beef, 100 sheep carcasses, 2 pheasants, 3 ox-tails, and 3 tongues, 10 lb. of sweetbread, 1 box of kidneys, 10 lb. of suet, 82 penguins, and 11 skua-gulls! The cooks' corner in the hut was very roomy, and, if my memory serves me aright, our cooking range was of similar pattern to one supplied to the Royal yacht, "Alexandra."

On January 19 a snow road was made over to the ice foot on the south side of Cape Evans in order to save the ponies' legs and hoofs. The Siberian ponies were not shod, and this rough, volcanic rock would have shaken them considerably.

A great deal of the bay ice had broken away and drifted out of the Sound, so that by the 20th the ship was only a few hundred yards from Hurrah Beach. This day Rennick, smiling from ear to ear, came across the ice with the pianola in bits conveyed on a couple of sledges. He fixed it up with great cleverness at one end of the hut and it was quite wonderful to see how he stripped it on board, brought it through all sorts of spaces, transported it undamaged over ice and rocky beach, re-erected it, tuned it, and then played "Home, Sweet Home." What with the pianola going all out, the gramophone giving us Melba records, and the ship's company's gramophone squawking out Harry Lauder's opposition numbers, Ponting cinematographing everything of interest and worthy of pictorial record, little Anton rushing round with nosebags for the ponies, Meares and Dimitri careering with the dog teams over ice, beach, packing cases, and what not, sailors with coloured tam-o'-shanters bobbing around in piratical style, the hot sun beating down and brightening up everything, one might easily have imagined this to be the circus scene, in the great Antarctic joy-ride film. Everything ran on wheels in these days, and it was difficult to imagine that in three months there would be no sun, that this sweltering beach would be encrusted with ice, and that the cold, dark winter would be upon us.

The 21st was quite an exciting day. Captain Scott woke me at 4 a.m. to tell me that the ship was in difficulties. I got up at once, called the four seamen, and with Uncle Bill we all went out on to the floe. The ice to which the ship was fast had broken away, and so we helped her re-moor with her ice-anchors. Petty Officer Evans went adrift on the floe, but we got him back in the pram. We turned in again at 5.15 and set a watch, but at 6.30 the "Terra Nova" hoisted an ensign at the main, a pre-arranged signal, and so all hands again went out and got her ice anchors; she slipped the ends of the wire hawsers holding them and stood out into the Sound. The ice was breaking up fast, a swell rolling in causing the big floes to grind and crunch in rather alarming fashion. Fortunately, Pennell had raised steam, which was just as well for before he got clear the ship was only half a cable from Cape Evans, which lay dead to leeward—she was well out of it. We took the wire hawsers, pram and ice anchors to our winter quarters and kept them in readiness for the ship's return, then had a delightful breakfast, with appetites sharpened from the early morning exercise and chill wind. Afterwards we continued the preparations for the depot trip and got eight out of eleven sledges fitted up with the bulk of their gear and a portion of stores.

At about 3 p.m. the "Terra Nova" came in, and just as she was turning to come alongside the fast ice she struck a rock with only twelve feet of water on it. This pinnacle, as it proved to be, lay within twenty feet of a sounding of eleven fathoms. Pennell immediately sounded all round, shifted several tons weight aft, and with the engines going full speed astern, he made his crew run from side to side and roll ship. Scott sent me out in the whaler with a party to assist the ship; we sounded all round and quickly made a plan of the relative disposition of the soundings round the "Terra Nova." However, as we finished, the ship moved astern and successfully floated, the crew gave three cheers, and we cheered lustily from the whaler. Pennell, as usual, was quite equal to the occasion when the ship struck; he was absolutely master of the situation, cool, decided, and successful. I was thankful to see the ship floating again, for, unlike the "Discovery" expedition, we had no plans for a relief ship.

When I told Captain Scott that the "Terra Nova" had run ashore he took it splendidly. We ran down to the beach, and when we beheld the ship on a lee shore heeling over to the wind, a certain amount of sea and swell coming in from the northward, and with the ultimate fate of the Expedition looking black and doubtful, Scott was quite cheerful, and he immediately set about to cope with the situation as coolly as though he were talking out his plans for a sledge journey.

After the "Terra Nova" got off this intruding rock she was steamed round to the edge of the fast ice, near the glacier tongue which juts out between Cape Evans and Cape Barne. We placed her ice-anchors, and after that Wilson and I went on board and had a yarn with Pennell, whom we brought back to tea. Scott was awfully nice to him about the grounding and told him of his own experience in 1904, when the "Discovery" was bumping heavily in a gale just after freeing herself from the ice at Hut Point.

Nelson, Griffith Taylor, Meares, and Day helped me with the sledge packing until 11.30 p.m. when we rolled into our bunks tired out and immediately fell asleep.

The next day, a Sunday, was entirely devoted to preparing personal gear for the depot journey: this means fitting lamp wick straps to our fur boots or finnesko, picking from our kits a proportion of puttees and socks, sewing more lamp wick on to our fur gloves so that these could hang from our shoulders when it was necessary to uncover our hands. We also had to fit draw-strings to our wind-proof blouses and adjust our headgear according to our individual fancy, and finally, tobacco and smokers' requisites would be added to the little bundle, which all packed up neatly in a pillow-slip. This personal bag served also as a pillow.