CHINAMAN'S DIGESTION 



laugh. Wild steered all day, and at every hourly halt 

 I put the compass down to make the course we are 

 going straight as a die to the south. Chinaman, or 

 " The Vampire," as Adams calls him, is not so fit; he 

 is stiff in the knees and has to be hauled along. Quan, 

 alias " Blossom," is Al, but one cannot leave him for 

 a moment, otherwise he would have his harness chewed 

 up. Within the last week he has had the greater part 

 of a horse-cloth, about a fathom of rope, several pieces 

 of leather, and odds and ends such as a nose-bag buckle, 

 but his digestion is marvellous, and he seems to thrive 

 on his strange diet. He would rather eat a yard of 

 creosoted rope than his maize and Maujee, indeed he 

 often, in sheer wantonness, throws his food all over the 

 snow. 



November 17. — A dull day when we started at 9.50 

 a.m., but the mountains abeam were in sight till noon. 

 The weather then became completely overcast, and the 

 light most difficult to steer in; a dead white wall was 

 what we seemed to be marching to, and there was no 

 direct light to cast even the faintest shadow on the 

 sastrugi. I steered from noon to 1 p.m., and from 

 lunch till 6 p.m., but the course was most erratic, and 

 we had to stop every now and then to put the compass 

 down to verify our course and alter it if necessary. 

 Our march for the day was 16 miles 200 yards (statute) 

 through a bad surface, the ponies sinking in up to 

 their hocks. This soft surface is similar to that we 

 experienced last trip south, for the snow had a crust 

 easily broken through and about 6 in. down an air- 

 space, then similar crusts and air-spaces in layers. It 

 was trying work for the ponies, but they all did splendidly 

 in their own particular way. Old " Blossom " plods 

 stolidly through it; Chinaman flounders rather pain- 

 fully, for he is old and stiff nowadays; Grisi and Socks 



281 



