secure the Alpine rope to the leading end of the trace ; this 
done, the work of rescue proceeded in better order. Two 
by two we hauled the animals up to the sledge and one by 
one cut them out of their harness. Strangely the last dogs 
were the most difficult, as they were close under the lip of 
the gap, bound in by the snow-covered rope. Finally, with 
a gasp we got the last poor creature on to firm snow. We 
had recovered eleven of the thirteen.’’4 
The dogs had been dangling for over an hour, and some 
of them showed signs of internal injuries. Meanwhile the 
two remaining dogs were lying down the crevasse on a 
snow-ledge. Scott proposed going down on the Alpine 
rope to get them; all his instincts of kindness were aroused, 
as well as the thought of the loss of two of the team. 
Wilson thought it was a mad idea and very dangerous, and 
said so, asking however whether he might not go down 
instead of Scott if anybody had to go. Scott insisted, and 
we paid down the go-foot Alpine rope to test the distance. 
The ledge was about 65 feet below. We lowered Scott, 
who stood on the ledge while we hauled up the two dogs 
in turn. They were glad to see him, and little wonder ! 
But the rescued dogs which were necessarily running. 
about loose on the Barrier, in their mangled harnesses, 
chose this moment to start a free fight with the other team. 
With a hurried shout down the crevasse we had to rush off 
to separate them. Nougis I. had been considerably mauled 
before this was done—also, incidentally, my heel! But at 
last we separated them, and hauled Scott to the surface. It 
was all three of us could do and our fingers were frost- 
bitten towards the end. 
Scott’s interest in the incident, apart from the recovery 
of the dogs, was scientific. Since we were running across 
the line of cleavage when the dogs went down, it was to be 
expected that we should be crossing the crevasses at right 
angles, and not be travelling, as actually happened, parallel 
to, or along them. While we were getting him up the sixty 
odd feet to which we had lowered him he kept muttering: 
““T wonder why this is running the way it is—you expect 
126 WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD 
1 Scote’s Last Expedition, vol. i. pp. 180-81. 
