I9III STILL HELD UP 



337 



plans were well laid and so nearly crowned with a first success. 

 I cannot see that any plan would be altered if it were to do 

 again, the margin for bad weather was ample according to all 

 experience, and this stormy December — our finest month — is a 

 thing that the most cautious organiser might not have been 

 prepared to encounter. It is very evil to lie here In a wet 

 sleeping-bag and think of the pity of It, whilst with no break 

 in the overcast sky things go steadily from bad to worse (T. 

 + 32°). Meares has a bad attack of snow blindness in one 

 eye, I hope this rest will help him, but he says it has been 

 painful for a long time. There cannot be good cheer in the 

 camp In such weather, but it is ready to break out again. In 

 the brief spell of hope last night one heard laughter. 



Midnight. Little or no improvement. The barometer Is 

 rising — perhaps there is hope in that. Surely few situations 

 could be more exasperating than this of forced Inactivity when 

 every day and Indeed one hour counts. To be here watching 

 the mottled wet green walls of our tent, the glistening wet bam- 

 boos, the bedraggled sopping socks and loose articles dangling 

 in the middle, the saddened countenances of my companions — 

 to hear the everlasting patter of the falling snow and the cease- 

 less rattle of the fluttering canvas — to feel the wet clinging 

 dampness of clothes and everything touched, and to know that 

 without there is but a blank wall of white on every side — these 

 are the physical surroundings. Add the stress of sighted failure 

 of our whole plan, and anyone must find the circumstances un- 

 enviable. But yet, after all, one can go on striving, endeavouring 

 to find a stimulation in the difficulties that arise. 



Friday, December 8. — Camp 30. Hoped against hope for 

 better conditions, to wake to the mournfullest snow and wind 

 as usual. We had breakfast at 10, and at noon the wind 

 dropped. We set about digging out the sledges, no light task. 

 We then shifted our tent sites. All tents had been reduced to 

 the smallest volume by the gradual pressure of snow. The old 

 sites are deep pits with hollowed-In wet centres. The re-setting 

 of the tent has at least given us comfort, especially since the 

 wind has dropped. About 4 the sky showed signs of breaking, 

 the sun and a few patches of land could be dimly discerned. 

 The wind shifted In light airs and a little hope revived. Alas ! 

 as I write the sun has disappeared and snow Is again falling. 



VOL. I — ^22 



