140 SCOTT’S LAST EXPEDITION [FEBRUARY 
On February 17 we arrived at the lower reaches of the 
Koettlitz Glacier. For the lower twenty-five miles this great 
ice-river rises but little above sea level. But what a river! 
South of the Dailey Isles, where it merges with the Great Ice 
Barrier, it is ten miles wide. A region of icy pinnacles and 
bastions, of lakes and winding gullies, as if a storm-lashed sea 
had suddenly been clutched in the grip of King Frost. Most 
picturesque in appearance, but as a sledging proposition it can 
only be described as infernal! 
Soon after leaving the sea ice we plunged into a maze of 
‘ glass-house’ and ‘ bottle-glass’ ice, whose names almost ex- 
plain themselves. The former were great curved platforms 
often thirty feet wide, which threw us all together in the middle 
and then dropped us several feet through the ‘ glass’ into a pool 
of water beneath. ‘The ‘ bottle-glass’ was due to the sun melt- 
ing the ice ripples into a thousand spikes and edges which re- 
ceived us when we fell—which happened every few minutes. 
Finally we sledged along the ‘ lower storey’ below the glass- 
house surface—on the floor of the drained lakes; twisting round 
ice pillars, pulling the sledges under sheets of projecting ice, 
lifting them over barriers. But it got worse instead of better, 
and at last I decided to return to the land and make our depot 
here instead of higher up the Koettlitz, as I had hoped to do. 
To reach the moraine we had to cross a sort of ‘rip’ where 
a strong deep current of water flowed northward. Along this 
seals used to appear and would stop to study our movements 
with some interest. 
This camp on the moraine marked the end of the third week. 
We celebrated it by killing a seal, and next day fried his liver. 
This was also a memorable day because, as someone remarked, 
I started cooking and we all lived through it! 
I cut off a piece of the seal’s belly-skin and sewed pieces over 
my worn-out boots. It wasn’t a very neat job, for it was done 
with a marlin spike and waxed yarn—but as soon as I started 
walking the soft seal-skin changed to armour-plate, and when 
ultimately I wanted to remove these ‘ brogans’ I had to break 
them: off with my geological hammer. 
We spent two days exploring the very interesting region be- 
hind the moraines. Long parallel valleys, each containing a 
dwindling valley glacier, led towards the scarp below the Royal 
