482 WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD 



and through the bamboos on which was stretched the 

 lining of the inner tent. There was some snow — not much 

 — between the two linings. But inside we could see nothing 

 — the snow had drifted out the light. There was nothing 

 to do but to dig the tent out. Soon we could see the out- 

 lines. There were three men here. 



Bowers and Wilson were sleeping in their bags. Scott 

 had thrown back the flaps of his bag at the end. His 

 left hand was stretched over Wilson, his lifelong friend. 

 Beneath the head of his bag, between the bag and the 

 floor-cloth, was the green wallet in which he carried his 

 diary. The brown books of diary were inside : and on the 

 floor-cloth were some letters. 



Everything was tidy. The tent had been pitched as well 

 as ever, with the door facing down the sastrugi, the bam- 

 boos with a good spread, the tent itself taut and ship-shape. 

 There was no snow inside the inner lining. There were 

 some loose pannikins from the cooker, the ordinary tent 

 gear, the personal belongings and a few more letters and 

 records — personal and scientific. Near Scott was a lamp 

 formed from a tin and some lamp wick off a finnesko. It 

 had been used to burn the little methylated spirit which 

 remained. I think that Scott had used it to help him to 

 write up to the end. I feel sure that he had died last — and 

 once I had thought that he would not go so far as some of 

 the others. We never realized how strong that man was, 

 mentally and physically, until now. 



We sorted out the gear, records, papers, diaries, spare 

 clothing, letters, chronometers, finnesko, socks, a flag. 

 There was even a book which I had lent Bill for the 

 journey — and he had brought it back. Somehow we 

 learnt that Amundsen had been to the Pole, and that they 

 too had been to the Pole, and both items of news seemed 

 to be of no importance whatever. There was a letter there 

 from Amundsen to King Haakon. There were the per- 

 sonal chatty little notes we had left for them on the Beard- 

 more — how much more important to us than all the royal 

 letters in the world. 



We dug down the bamboo which had brought us to 



