348 WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD 



gleam of sunshine, which soon gave place to snow and 

 gloom, but we started to make experiments in haulage. 

 Four men on ski managed to move a sledge with four 

 others sitting upon it. Nobby was led out, but sank to 

 his belly. As for the drifts I saw Oates standing behind 

 one, and only his head appeared, and this was all loose 

 snow. 



"We are all sitting round now after some tea — it is 

 much better than getting into the bags. I can hardly think 

 that the ponies can pull on, but Titus thinks they can pull 

 to-morrow ; all the food is finished, and what they have 

 had to-day was only what they would not eat out of their 

 last feed yesterday. It is a terrible end — driven to death 

 on no more food, to be then cut up, poor devils. I have 

 swopped the Little Minister with Silas Wright for Dante's 

 Inferno! " 1 The steady patter of the falling snow upon 

 the tents was depressing as we turned in, but the tempera- 

 ture was below freezing. 



The next morning (Saturday, December 9) we turned 

 out to a cloudy snowy day at 5.30 a.m. By 8.30 we had 

 hauled the sledges some way out of the camp and started 

 to lead out the ponies. " The horses could hardly move, 

 sank up to their bellies, and finally lay down. They had to 

 be driven, lashed on. It was a grim business." 2 



My impressions of that day are of groping our way, for 

 Bowers and I were pulling a light sledge ahead to make 

 the track, through a vague white wall. First a confused 

 crowd of men behind us gathered round the leading pony 

 sledge, pushing it forward, the poor beast barely able to 

 struggle out of the holes it made as it plunged forward. 

 The others were induced to follow, and after a start had 

 been made the regular man-hauling party went back to 

 fetch their load. There was not one man there who would 

 willingly have caused pain to a living thing. But what 

 else was to be done — we could not leave our pony depot in 

 that bog. Hour after hour we plugged on : and we dare 

 not halt for lunch, we knew we could never start again. 

 After crossing many waves huge pressure ridges suddenly 



1 My own diary. 2 Ibid. 



