1 62 SCOTT'S LAST EXPEDITION [April 



praise, for it is mainly his hand which has executed the designs 

 which his brain conceived. In this may be clearly seen the 

 advantage of a traveller's experience. Ponting has had to fend 

 for himself under primitive conditions in a new land; the result 

 is a ' handy man ' with every form of tool and in any circum- 

 stances. Thus, when building operations were to the fore and 

 mechanical labour scarce, Ponting returned to the shell of his 

 apartment with only the raw material for "completing it. In 

 the shortest possible space of time shelves and tanks were erected, 

 doors hung and windows framed, and all in a workmanlike 

 manner commanding the admiration of all beholders. It was 

 well that speed could be commanded for such work, since the 

 fleeting hours of the summer season had been altogether too 

 few to be spared from the immediate service of photography. 

 Ponting's nervous temperament allowed no waste of time for 

 him fine weather meant no sleep; he decided that lost oppor- 

 tunities should be as rare as circumstances would permit. 



This attitude was now manifested in the many yards of 

 cinematograph film remaining on hand and yet greater number 

 recorded as having been sent back in the ship, in the boxes of 

 negatives lying on the shelves and a well-filled album of prints. 



Of the many admirable points in this work perhaps the most 

 notable are Ponting's eye for a picture and the mastery he has 

 acquired of ice subjects; the composition of most of his pic- 

 tures is extraordinarily good, he seems to know by instinct the 

 exact value of foreground and middle distance and of the intro- 

 duction of ' life,' whilst with more technical skill in the manipu- 

 lation of screens and exposures he emphasises the subtle shadows 

 of the snow and reproduces its wondrously transparent texture. 

 He is an artist in love with his work, and it was good to hear 

 his enthusiasm for results of the past and plans of the future. 



Long before I could gaze my fill at the contents of the 

 dark room I was led to the biologists' cubicle; Nelson and Day 

 had from the first decided to camp together, each having a 

 habit of methodical neatness; both were greatly relieved when 

 the arrangement was approved, and they were freed from the 

 chance of an untidy companion. No attempt had been made to 

 furnish this cubicle before our departure on the autumn jour- 

 ney, but now on my return I found it an example of the best 

 utilisation of space. The prevailing note was neatness; the 



