150 SCOTT'S LAST EXPEDITION [MARCH 



however, we stopped all through the next day and until ten on 

 the third day. 



It was the worst blizzard I experienced while sledging in 

 the South, and in consequence my sledge diary is rather scrappy. 

 I wrote : ' Finally decided to have an early supper and turn into 

 our wet bags. We lit the primus and let the flame singe our 

 feet to warm them. Talked of Cambridge cakes and teas and 

 other delights. Evans told a cheerful tale of the snow round 

 the tent at Cape Crozier which pinned them in for five days in 

 September 1903! We can't see 100 feet anywhere. The rime 

 is dripping down my neck and covering our bags. Drifts are 

 slipping off the tent. Wind veering somewhat southerly from 

 south-east. Now and again we peep out of the door, but no 

 improvement. Couldn't get on to the shore probably to camp, 

 as the water is evidently exceptionally far to the east. . . . 

 Guess we'll shiver it out. The booming of the lid of the bis- 

 cuit tin outside is like the Inch Cape Bell ! ' 



The next day was much the same, but though the blizzard 

 blew as strong as ever, driving the drift in great sheets into the 

 open sound, yet I felt that as we had got through one day and 

 night all right, so we should the next; which is very common 

 if unscientific logic! 



On the 1 4th it lulled a bit by 10 A.M., and as we knew the 

 direction, I decided to make for Castle Rock. The blizzard had 

 piled a long snow slope in the lee of our tent, 100 feet to the 

 north-west of the sledges. We dug out the sledges and packed 

 the gear, and then marched out, the wind helping us materially. 



I anticipated some trouble from the tide crack next the land 

 which P.O. Evans had crossed in 1903. However all was lost 

 to view in the mist of drift, though we seemed to be ascending. 

 Nevertheless we could see Castle Rock at intervals and steered 

 by that. I thought we must have crossed the tide crack un- 

 knowingly, when the sun appeared and showed us we were one- 

 third of the way up the promontory! With its customary irra- 

 tionality Antarctica had decided to dispense with a tide crack in 

 1911, though the next expedition will probably find a chasm 

 fifty feet deep where the Barrier presses on Ross Island. 



We joyfully had lunch, transferred all necessaries to the 

 big sledge, and pulled up the 1000 feet to Castle Rock, which 

 we reached in two hours. We had a short rest and then pro- 



