jio WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD 



and every detail of organization was working out as well as 

 if not better than had been expected. 



Bowers was so busy with the meteorological log and 

 sights which were taken in terribly difficult circumstances 

 that he kept no diary until they started back. Then he 

 wrote on seven consecutive days, as follows : 



'"''January 19. A splendid clear morning with a fine 

 S W. wind blowing. During breakfast time I sewed a flap 

 attachment on to the hood of my green hat so as to prevent 

 the wind from blowing down my neck on the march. We 

 got up the mast and sail on the sledge and headed north, 

 picking up Amundsen's cairn and our outgoing tracks 

 shortly afterwards. Along these we travelled till we struck 

 the other cairn and finally the black flag where we had made 

 our 58th outward camp. We then with much relief left all 

 traces of the Norwegians behind us, and headed on our own 

 track till lunch camp, when we had covered eight miles. 



" In the afternoon we passed No. 2 cairn of the British 

 route, and fairly slithered along before a fresh breeze. It 

 was heavy travelling for me, not being on ski, but one does 

 not mind being tired if a good march is made. We did 

 sixteen [miles] altogether for the day, and so should pick 

 up our Last Depot to-morrow afternoon. The weather be- 

 came fairly thick soon after noon, and at the end of the 

 afternoon there was considerable drift, with a mist caused 

 by ice-crystals, and parhelion." 



" January 20. Good sailing breeze again this morn- 

 ing. It is a great pleasure to have one's back to the wind 

 instead of having to face it. It came on thicker later, but we 

 sighted the Last Depot soon after 1 p.m. and reached it at 

 1.45 p.m. The red flag on the bamboo pole was blowing 

 out merrily to welcome us back from the Pole, with its 

 supply of necessaries of life below. We are absolutely 

 dependent upon our depots to get off the plateau alive, and 

 so welcome the lonely little cairns gladly. At this one, 

 called the Last Depot, we picked up four days' food, a can 

 of oil, some methylated spirit (for lighting purposes) and 

 some personal gear we had left there. The bamboo was 

 bent on to the floor-cloth as a yard for our sail instead of a 



