586 SCOTT'S LAST EXPEDITION [March 
them most ; mainly, I fear, from his self-sacrificing 
devotion in doctoring Oates* feet. We cannot help each 
other, each has enough to do to take care of himself. 
We get cold on the march when the trudging is heavy, 
and the wind pierces our warm garments. The others, 
all of them, arc unendingly cheerful when in the tent. 
We mean to sec the game through with a proper spirit, 
but it's tough work to be pulling harder than we ever 
pulled in our lives for long hours, and to feel that the 
progress is so slow. One can only say 6 God help us ! ' 
and plod on our weary way, cold and very miserable, 
though outwardly cheerful. We talk of all sorts of 
subjects in the tent, not much of food now, since we 
decided to take the risk of running a full ration. We 
simply couldn't go hungry at this time. 
T uesday y March 6. — Lunch. We did a little better with 
help of wind yesterday afternoon, finishing 9^ miles for the 
day, and 27 miles from depot. (R. 48.) But this morning 
things have been awful. It was warm in the night and 
for the first time during the journey I overslept myself by 
more than an hour ; then we were slow with foot gear ; 
then, pulling with all our might (for our lives) we could 
scarcely advance at rate of a mile an hour ; then it grew 
thick and three times we had to get out of harness to 
search for tracks. The result is something less than 3! 
miles for the forenoon. The sun is shining now and the 
wind gone. Poor Oatcs is unable to pull, sits on the 
sledge when we are track-searching — he is wonderfully 
plucky, as his feet must be giving him great pain. He 
makes no complaint, but his spirits only come up in 
