48 SCOTT'S LAST EXPEDITION [AUGUST 



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 Ibs. 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 



