MAKING OUR EASTING DOWN 47 
main deck Bowers is trying to get one more frozen sheep 
into the ice-house, in the rigging working parties are over- 
hauling the running gear. The engine-room staff are busy 
on the engine, and though the ship is crowded there is 
order everywhere, and it 1s clean. 
But the scene on the morning of Saturday, November 
26, baffles description. There is no deck visible: in addi- 
tion to 30 tons of coal in sacks on deck there are 24 tons of 
petrol, stowed in drums which in turn are cased in wood. 
On the top of sacks and cases, and on the roof of the ice- 
house are thirty-three dogs, chained far enough apart to 
keep them from following their first instinct—to fight the 
nearest animal they can see: the ship is a hubbub of howls. 
In the forecastle and in the four stalls on deck are the 
nineteen ponies, wedged tightly in their wooden stalls, and 
dwarfing everything are the three motor sledges in their 
huge crates, 16’ x 5’ x 4’, two of them on either side of the 
main hatch, the third across the break of the poop. They 
are covered with tarpaulins and secured in every possible 
way, but it is clear that in a big sea their weight will throw 
a great strain upon the deck. It is not altogether a cheerful 
sight. But all that care and skill can do has been done to 
ensure that the deck cargo will not shift, and that the 
animals may be as sheltered as possible from wind and seas. 
And it’s no good worrying about what can’t be helped. 
