THE END OF THE EXPEDITION 443 



south in the old Discovery Hut are Atkinson, Cherry-Garrard, 

 Keohane, and Demetri. But two of these are invalids — worn 

 out by wild weather on the Barrier when they carried further 

 supplies to One Ton Depot. 



Eleven miles south of this depot — and just beyond where 

 Bowers and Gran reached in the dep6t trip of February, 1 9 1 1 

 — is the last camp of the Pole party. All the world has 

 been moved by Scott's messages from this formless yet 

 historic site. It would be presumption in me to try and 

 describe it. 



Why did the tragedy occur ? I am convinced that no 

 reason beyond that of Seaman Evans' illness is required. 

 When Wilson was coaching us as to how we should meet 

 the hazards of Antarctic sledging, he told us of frostbites, 

 chills, blizzards, and so forth. I said that these seemed sur- 

 mountable, but I added, " What are we to do if one of the 

 party breaks his leg ? " which seemed by no means impossible 

 in the rough rocky region before us. Dr. Bill replied, " Well, 

 you will have to make a more or less permanent camp, kill 

 plenty of seals, and wait there until you are relieved, or until 

 the leg is usable again." Two factors were vital — rest for 

 the invalid, and seal-meat for the party's sustenance. When 

 Evans met with his accident, there could be no rest for any, 

 sick or well. It was a race with famine, in which only strong 

 men had any chance. There was no need for a severe acci- 

 dent to handicap the party hopelessly, as in the case of Dr. 

 Mertz. A slight ailment rapidly becomes mortal. A sick 

 man must be kept warm, and in the Antarctic the only warm- 

 ing agent is the human one. Very literally a man " keeps 

 himself warm " with the most wonderful furnace in nature — 

 fed with fuel in the form of biscuits and pemmican. And so, 

 I believe, that, short of abandonment, the party had no hope 

 with a sick man on their hands. Scott and Wilson would 

 remember, however, that they had managed to bring back 

 Shackleton to safety in 1903, and would hope to do the same 

 again, even though the distance was four hundred miles instead 

 of a hundred and fifty. 



With each hour's delay each man grew weaker. Each day 

 the weather grew worse than the preceding. The sun now 

 sank below the horizon at night and the Antarctic cold, un- 

 opposed by his warm beams, spread resistless through both 



