112 WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD 
to steer nearly east until this line was crossed some distance 
north of White Island, and then steer due south. 
It is most difficult on a large snow surface to say 
whether it is flat. Certainly there are plenty of big cre- 
vasses for several miles in this neighbourhood, though 
they are generally well covered, and we found only very 
small ones on this outward journey. I am inclined to think 
there are also some considerable pressure waves. As we 
came up to Camp § we floundered into a pocket of soft 
snow in which one pony after another plunged deeper and 
deeper until they were buried up to their bellies and could 
move no more. I suppose it was an old crevasse filled with 
soft snow, or perhaps one of the pressure-ridge hollows 
which had been recently drifted up. My own pony some- 
how got through with his sledge to the other side, and 
every moment I expected the ground to fall below us 
and a chasm to swallow us up. The others had to be un- 
harnessed and led out. ‘The onlyset of snow-shoes was then 
put on to Bowers’ big pony and he went back and drew the 
stranded sledges out. Beyond we pitched our camp. 
On February 3-4 we marched for ten miles to Camp 6. 
In the last five miles we crossed several crevasses, our first ; 
and I heard Oates ask some one what they looked like. 
‘Black as hell,” he said, but we saw no more just now, for 
this march carried us beyond the line of pressure which 
runs between White Island and Cape Crozier. This halt 
was called Corner Camp, as we turned here and marched 
due south. Corner Camp will be heard of again and again 
in this story: it is thirty miles from Hut Point. 
By 4 p.m. it was blowing our first Barrier blizzard. We 
were to find out afterwards that a Corner Camp blizzard 
blows nearly as often as a Hut Point wind. TheBluff seems 
to be the breeding-place for these disturbances, which pour 
out towards the sea by way of Cape Crozier. Corner Camp 
is in the direct line between the two. 
One summer blizzard is much like another. The tem- 
perature, never very low, rises, and you are not cold in the 
tent. Sometimes a blizzard is a very welcome rest: after 
weeks of hard pulling, dragging yourself awake each 
