48 SCOTT’S LAST EXPEDITION [Aucust 
we were very keen to get in without any fuss. We got right up 
to the door before anyone saw us, and then I simply could not 
get out of my harness. 
As we came round the Point, Bill asked us to spread out if 
anyone came out of the Hut, to show we were all there—a very 
useful idea. | 
This was the thirty-sixth day of our absence. 
E. A. WILSON. 
So ends the official report of the Cape Crozier Party, simple 
and reticent to the last. But again the reader, eager for more 
colour, will welcome the fuller description of the last march 
home, the welcome at Cape Evans, and general impressions of 
travel, which we owe to Mr. Cherry-Garrard’s pen. 
We just pulled for all we were worth and did nearly two miles 
an hour; for two miles a baddish salt surface, then big, undu- 
lating, hard sastrugi and good going. Several times I fell asleep 
as we were marching. We had done eight miles by 4 P.M. and 
were past Glacier Tongue. ‘Then half a mile of bad pressure ice 
running from Glacier Tongue to Tent Island, and then rather 
worse going past Inaccessible, where we met a strong northerly 
wind. Up to now the light from the moon had been good, but 
now the light was worse and we were very done. At last we 
rounded the Cape and gradually pulled in and right up to the 
door, without disturbing anything. As we were getting out of 
our harness, always a big business in our frozen state, Hooper 
came out, suddenly said ‘ By Jove!’ and rushed back, and then 
there was pandemonium. 
It was 9.30 P.M., and a good many had turned out of their 
beds. Everybody hung on to some part of us and got our clothes 
off: mine next morning weighed 24 lbs. As they heard our story 
or bits of it they became more and more astonished. We were 
set down to cocoa and bread and butter and jam: we did not 
want anything else. Scott I heard say, ‘ But, look here, you 
know, this is the hardest journey that has ever been made.’ They 
told us afterwards that we had a look in our faces as if we were 
at our last gasp, a look which had quite gone next morning. 
Ponting said he had seen the same look on some Russian pris- 
oners’ faces at Mukden. I just tumbled into my dry, warm 
