394 SCOTT'S LAST EXPEDITION [February 



early, but it is anxious work with the sick man. But it's no use 

 meeting troubles half way, and our sleep is all too short to 

 write more. 



Saturday, February 17. A very terrible day. Evans looked 

 a little better after a good sleep, and declared, as he always 

 did, that he was quite well. He started in his place on the 

 traces, but half an hour later worked his ski shoes adrift, and 

 had to leave the sledge. The surface was awful, the soft re- 

 cently fallen snow clogging the ski and runners at every step, 

 the sledge groaning, the sky overcast, and the land hazy. We 

 stopped after about one hour, and Evans came up again, but 

 very slowly. Half an hour later he dropped out again on the 

 same plea. He asked Bowers to lend him a piece of string. 

 I cautioned him to come on as quickly as he could, and he 

 answered cheerfully as I thought. We had to push on, and the 

 remainder of us were forced to pull very hard, sweating heavily. 

 Abreast the Monument Rock we stopped, and seeing Evans a 

 long way astern, I camped for lunch. There was no alarm at 

 first, and we prepared tea and our own meal, consuming the 

 latter. After lunch, and Evans still not appearing, we looked 

 out, to see him still afar off. By this time we were alarmed, 

 and all four started back on ski. I was first to reach the poor 

 man and shocked at his appearance; he was on his knees with 

 clothing disarranged, hands uncovered and frostbitten, and a 

 wild look in his eyes. Asked what was the matter, he replied 

 with a slow speech that he didn't know, but thought he must 

 have fainted. We got him on his feet, but after two or three 

 steps he sank down again. He showed every sign of complete 

 collapse. Wilson, Bowers, and I went back for the sledge, whilst 

 Oates remained with him. When we returned he was practically 

 unconscious, and when we got him into the tent quite comatose. 

 He died quietly at 12.30 A.M. On discussing the symptoms we 

 think he began to get weaker just before we reached the Pole, 

 and that his downward path was accelerated first by the shock 

 of his frostbitten fingers, and later by falls during rough travel- 

 ling on the glacier, further by his loss of all confidence in him- 

 self. Wilson thinks it certain he must have injured his brain 

 by a fall. It is a terrible thing to lose a companion in this 

 way, but calm reflection shows that there could not have been 

 a better ending to the terrible anxieties of the past week. Dis- 



