The Worst Journey in the World (20 page)

Many watched all night, as this new world unfolded itself, cape by cape
and mountain by mountain. We pushed through some heavy floes and "at 6
A.M. (on January 4) we came through the last of the Strait pack some
three miles north of Cape Royds. We steered for the Cape, fully expecting
to find the edge of the pack-ice ranging westward from it. To our
astonishment we ran on past the Cape with clear water or thin sludge ice
on all sides of us. Past Cape Royds, past Cape Barne, past the glacier on
its south side, and finally round and past Inaccessible Island, a good
two miles south of Cape Royds. The Cape itself was cut off from the
south. We could have gone farther, but the last sludge ice seemed to be
increasing in thickness, and there was no wintering spot to aim for but
Cape Armitage.
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I have never seen the ice of the Sound in such a
condition or the land so free from snow. Taking these facts in
conjunction with the exceptional warmth of the air, I came to the
conclusion that it had been an exceptionally warm summer. At this point
it was evident that we had a considerable choice of wintering spots. We
could have gone to either of the small islands, to the mainland, the
Glacier Tongue, or pretty well anywhere except Hut Point. My main wish
was to choose a place that would not be easily cut off from the Barrier,
and my eye fell on a cape which we used to call the Skuary, a little
behind us. It was separated from the old Discovery quarters by two deep
bays on either side of the Glacier Tongue, and I thought that these bays
would remain frozen until late in the season, and that when they froze
over again the ice would soon become firm. I called a council and put
these propositions. To push on to the Glacier Tongue and winter there; to
push west to the 'tombstone' ice and to make our way to an inviting spot
to the northward of the cape we used to call 'the Skuary.' I favoured the
latter course, and on discussion we found it obviously the best, so we
turned back close around Inaccessible Island and steered for the fast ice
off the Cape at full speed. After piercing a small fringe of thin ice at
the edge of the fast floe the ship's stem struck heavily on hard bay ice
about a mile and a half from the shore. Here was a road to the Cape and a
solid wharf on which to land our stores. We made fast with
ice-anchors."
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Scott, Wilson and Evans walked away over the sea-ice, but were soon back.
They reported an excellent site for a hut on a shelving beach on the
northern side of the Cape before us, which was henceforward called Cape
Evans, after our second in command. Landing was to begin forthwith.

First came the two big motor sledges which took up so much of our deck
space. In spite of the hundreds of tons of sea-water which had washed
over and about them they came out of their big crates looking "as fresh
and clean as if they had been packed on the previous day."
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They were
running that same afternoon.

We had a horse-box for the ponies, which came next, but it wanted all
Oates' skill and persuasion to get them into it. All seventeen of them
were soon on the floe, rolling and kicking with joy, and thence they were
led across to the beach where they were carefully picketed to a rope run
over a snow slope where they could not eat sand. Shackleton lost four out
of eight ponies within a month of his arrival. His ponies were picketed
on rubbly ground at Cape Royds, and ate the sand for the salt flavour it
possessed. The fourth pony died from eating shavings in which chemicals
had been packed. This does not mean that they were hungry, merely that
these Manchurian ponies eat the first thing that comes in their way,
whether it be a bit of sugar or a bit of Erebus.

Meanwhile the dog-teams were running light loads between the ship and the
shore. "The great trouble with them has been due to the fatuous conduct
of the penguins. Groups of these have been constantly leaping on to our
floe. From the moment of landing on their feet their whole attitude
expressed devouring curiosity and a pig-headed disregard for their own
safety. They waddle forward, poking their heads to and fro in their
usually absurd way, in spite of a string of howling dogs straining to get
at them. 'Hulloa!' they seem to say, 'here's a game—what do all you
ridiculous things want?' And they come a few steps nearer. The dogs make
a rush as far as their harness or leashes allow. The penguins are not
daunted in the least, but their ruffs go up and they squawk with
semblance of anger, for all the world as though they were rebutting a
rude stranger—their attitude might be imagined to convey, 'Oh, that's
the sort of animal you are; well, you've come to the wrong place—we
aren't going to be bluffed and bounced by you,' and then the final fatal
steps forward are taken and they come within reach. There is a spring, a
squawk, a horrid red patch on the snow, and the incident is closed."
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Everything had to be sledged nearly a mile and a half across the sea-ice,
but at midnight, after seventeen hours' continuous work, the position was
most satisfactory. The large amount of timber which went to make the hut
was mostly landed. The ponies and dogs were sleeping in the sun on shore.
A large green tent housed the hut builders, and the site for the hut was
levelled.

"Such weather in such a place comes nearer to satisfying my ideal of
perfection than any condition I have ever experienced. The warm glow of
the sun with the keen invigorating cold of the air forms a combination
which is inexpressibly health-giving and satisfying to me, whilst the
golden light on this wonderful scene of mountain and ice satisfies every
claim of scenic magnificence. No words of mine can convey the
impressiveness of the wonderful panorama displayed to our eyes.... It's
splendid to see at last the effect of all the months of preparation and
organisation. There is much snoring about me as I write (2 A.M.) from men
tired after a hard day's work and preparing for such another to-morrow. I
also must sleep, for I have had none for 48 hours—but it should be to
dream happily."
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Getting to bed about midnight and turning out at 5 A.M. we kept it up day
after day. Petrol, paraffin, pony food, dog food, sledges and sledging
gear, hut furniture, provisions of all kinds both for life at the hut and
for sledging, coal, scientific instruments and gear, carbide, medical
stores, clothing—I do not know how many times we sledged over that
sea-ice, but I do know that we were landed as regards all essentials in
six days. "Nothing like it has been done before; nothing so expeditious
and complete."
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... and "Words cannot express the splendid way in
which every one works."
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The two motors, the two dog-teams, man-hauling parties, and, as they were
passed for work by Oates, the ponies; all took part in this transport. As
usual Bowers knew just where everything was, and where it was to go, and
he was most ably seconded on the ship by Rennick and Bruce. Both
man-hauling parties and pony-leaders commonly did ten journeys a day, a
distance of over thirty miles. The ponies themselves did one to three or
four journeys as they were considered fit.

Generally speaking the transport seemed satisfactory, but it soon became
clear that sea-ice was very hard on the motor sledge runners. "The motor
sledges are working well, but not very well; the small difficulties will
be got over, but I rather fear they will never draw the loads we expect
of them. Still they promise to be a help, and they are a lively and
attractive feature of our present scene as they drone along over the
floe. At a little distance, without silencers, they sound exactly like
threshing machines."
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The ponies were the real problem. It was to be expected that they would
be helpless and exhausted after their long and trying voyage. Not a bit
of it! They were soon rolling about, biting one another, kicking one
another, and any one else, with the best will in the world. After two
days' rest on shore, twelve of them were thought fit to do one journey,
on which they pulled loads varying from 700 to 1000 lbs. with ease on the
hard sea-ice surface. But it was soon clear that these ponies were an
uneven lot. There were the steady workers like Punch and Nobby; there
were one or two definitely weak ponies like Blossom, Blücher and Jehu;
and there were one or two strong but rather impossible beasts. One of
these was soon known as Weary Willie. His outward appearance belied him,
for he looked like a pony. A brief acquaintance soon convinced me that
he was without doubt a cross between a pig and a mule. He was obviously a
strong beast and, since he always went as slowly as possible and stopped
as often as possible it was most difficult to form any opinion as to what
load he was really able to draw. Consequently I am afraid there is little
doubt that he was generally overloaded until that grim day on the Barrier
when he was set upon by a dog-team. It was his final collapse at the end
of the Depôt journey which caused Scott to stay behind when we went out
on the sea-ice. But of that I shall speak again.

Twice only have I ever seen Weary Willie trot. We were leading the ponies
now as always with halters and without bits. Consequently our control was
limited, especially on ice, but doubtless the ponies' comfort was
increased, especially in cold weather when a metal bit would have been
difficult if not impossible. On this occasion he and I had just arrived
at the ship after a trudge in which I seemed to be pulling both Weary and
the sledge. Just then a motor back-fired, and we started back across that
floe at a pace which surprised Weary even more than myself, for he fell
over the sledge, himself and me, and for days I felt like a big black
bruise. The second occasion on which he got a move on was during the
Depôt journey when Gran on ski tried to lead him.

Christopher and Hackenschmidt were impossible ponies. Christopher, as we
shall see, died on the Barrier a year after this, fighting almost to the
last. Hackenschmidt, so called "from his vicious habit of using both fore
and hind legs in attacking those who came near him,"
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led an even more
lurid life but had a more peaceful end. Whether Oates could have tamed
him I do not know: he would have done it if it were possible, for his
management of horses was wonderful. But in any case Hackenschmidt
sickened at the hut while we were absent on the Depôt journey, for no
cause which could be ascertained, gradually became too weak to stand, and
was finally put out of his misery.

There was a breathless minute when Hackenschmidt, with a sledge attached
to him, went galloping over the hills and boulders. Below him, all
unconscious of his impending fate, was Ponting, adjusting a large camera
with his usual accuracy. Both survived. There were runaways innumerable,
and all kinds of falls. But these ponies could tumble about unharmed in a
way which would cause an English horse to lie up for a week. "There is no
doubt that the bumping of the sledges close at the heels of the animals
is the root of the evil."
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There were two adventures during this first week of landing stores which
might well have had a more disastrous conclusion. The first of these was
the adventure of Ponting and the Killer whales.

"I was a little late on the scene this morning, and thereby witnessed a
most extraordinary scene. Some six or seven killer whales, old and young,
were skirting the fast floe edge ahead of the ship; they seemed excited
and dived rapidly, almost touching the floe. As we watched, they suddenly
appeared astern, raising their snouts out of water. I had heard weird
stories of these beasts, but had never associated serious danger with
them. Close to the water's edge lay the wire stern rope of the ship, and
our two Esquimaux dogs were tethered to this. I did not think of
connecting the movement of the whales with this fact, and seeing them so
close I shouted to Ponting, who was standing abreast of the ship. He
seized his camera and ran towards the floe edge to get a close picture of
the beasts, which had momentarily disappeared. The next moment the whole
floe under him and the dogs heaved up and split into fragments. One could
hear the booming noise as the whales rose under the ice and struck it
with their backs. Whale after whale rose under the ice, setting it
rocking fiercely; luckily Ponting kept his feet and was able to fly to
security. By an extraordinary chance also, the splits had been made
around and between the dogs, so that neither of them fell into the water.
Then it was clear that the whales shared our astonishment, for one after
another their huge hideous heads shot vertically into the air through
the cracks which they had made. As they reared them to a height of six
or eight feet it was possible to see their tawny head markings, their
small glistening eyes, and their terrible array of teeth—by far the
largest and most terrifying in the world. There cannot be a doubt that
they looked up to see what had happened to Ponting and the dogs.

"The latter were horribly frightened and strained to their chains,
whining; the head of one killer must certainly have been within five feet
of one of the dogs.

"After this, whether they thought the game insignificant, or whether they
missed Ponting is uncertain, but the terrifying creatures passed on to
other hunting grounds, and we were able to rescue the dogs, and what was
even more important, our petrol—five or six tons of which was waiting on
a piece of ice which was not split away from the main mass.

"Of course, we have known well that killer whales continually skirt the
edge of the floes and that they would undoubtedly snap up any one who was
unfortunate enough to fall into the water; but the facts that they could
display such deliberate cunning, that they were able to break ice of such
thickness (at least 2½ feet), and that they could act in unison, were a
revelation to us. It is clear that they are endowed with singular
intelligence, and in future we shall treat that intelligence with every
respect."
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