The Worst Journey in the World (56 page)

But about three weeks out the topics of conversation became threadbare.
From then onwards it was often that whole days passed without
conversation beyond the routine Camp ho! All ready? Pack up. Spell ho.
The latter after some two hours' pulling. When man-hauling we used to
start pulling immediately we had the tent down, the sledge packed and our
harness over our bodies and ski on our feet. After about a quarter of an
hour the effects of the marching would be felt in the warming of hands
and feet and the consequent thawing of our mitts and finnesko. We then
halted long enough for everybody to adjust their ski and clothing: then
on, perhaps for two hours or more, before we halted again.

Since it had been decided to lighten the ponies' weights, we left at
least 100 lbs. of pony forage behind when we started from One Ton on the
night of November 16-17 on our first 13-mile march. This was a distinct
saving, and instead of 695 lbs. each with which the six stronger ponies
left Corner Camp, they now pulled only 625 lbs. Jehu had only 455 lbs.
and Chinaman 448 lbs. The dog-teams had 860 lbs. of pony food between
them, and according to plan the two teams were to carry 1570 lbs. from
One Ton between them. These weights included the sledges, with straps and
fittings, which weighed about 45 lbs.

Summer seemed long in coming for we marched into a considerable breeze
and the temperature was -18°. Oates and Seaman Evans had quite a crop of
frost-bites. I pointed out to Meares that his nose was gone; but he left
it, saying that he had got tired of it, and it would thaw out by and by.
The ponies were going better for their rest. The next day's march was
over crusty snow with a layer of loose powdery snow at the top, and a
temperature of -21° was chilly. Towards the end of it Scott got
frightened that the ponies were not going as well as they should. Another
council of war was held, and it was decided that an average of thirteen
miles a day must be done at all costs, and that another sack of forage
should be dumped here, putting the ponies on short rations later, if
necessary. Oates agreed, but said the ponies were going better than he
expected: that Jehu and Chinaman might go a week, and almost certainly
would go three days. Bowers was always against this dumping. Meanwhile
Scott wrote: "It's touch and go whether we scrape up to the glacier;
meanwhile we get along somehow."
^[192]

As a result of one of Christopher's tantrums Bowers records that his
sledge-meter was carried away this morning: "I took my sledge-meter into
the tent after breakfast and rigged up a fancy lashing with raw hide
thongs so as to give it the necessary play with security. A splendid
parhelia exhibition was caused by the ice-crystals. Round the sun was a
22° halo
(that is a halo 22° from the sun's image)
, with four mock suns
in rainbow colours, and outside this another halo in complete rainbow
colours. Above the sun were the arcs of two other circles touching these
halos, and the arcs of the great all-round circle could be seen faintly
on either side. Below was a dome-shaped glare of white which contained an
exaggerated mock sun, which was as dazzling as the sun himself.
Altogether a fine example of a pretty common phenomenon down here."
And the next day: "We saw the party ahead in inverted mirage some
distance above their heads."

In the next three marches we covered our daily 13 miles, for the most
part without very great difficulty. But poor Jehu was in a bad way,
stopping every few hundred yards. It was a funereal business for the
leaders of these crock ponies; and at this stage of the journey Atkinson,
Wright and Keohane had many more difficulties than most of us, and the
success of their ponies was largely due to their patience and care.
Incidentally big icicles formed upon the ponies' noses during the march
and Chinaman used Wright's windproof blouse as a handkerchief. During the
last of these marches, that is on the morning of November 21, we saw a
massive cairn ahead, and found there the motor party, consisting of
Lieutenant Evans, Day, Lashly and Hooper. The cairn was in 80° 32', and
under the name Mount Hooper formed our Upper Barrier Depôt. We left there
three S (summit) rations, two cases of emergency biscuits and two cases
of oil, which constituted three weekly food units for the three parties
which were to advance from the bottom of the Beardmore Glacier. This food
was to take them back from 80° 32' to One Ton Camp. We all camped for the
night 3 miles farther on: sixteen men, five tents, ten ponies,
twenty-three dogs and thirteen sledges.

The man-hauling party had been waiting for six days; and, having expected
us before, were getting anxious about us. They declared that they were
very hungry, and Day, who was always long and thin, looked quite gaunt.
Some spare biscuits which we gave them from our tent were carried off
with gratitude. The rest of us who were driving dogs or leading ponies
still found our Barrier ration satisfying.

We had now been out three weeks and had travelled 192 miles, and formed a
very good idea as to what the ponies could do. The crocks had done
wonderfully:—"We hope Jehu will last three days; he will then be
finished in any case and fed to the dogs. It is amusing to see Meares
looking eagerly for the chance of a feed for his animals; he has been
expecting it daily. On the other hand, Atkinson and Oates are eager to
get the poor animal beyond the point at which Shackleton killed his first
beast. Reports on Chinaman are very favourable, and it really looks as
though the ponies are going to do what is hoped of them."
^[193]
From first
to last Nobby, who was rescued from the floe, was the strongest pony we
had, and was now drawing a heavier load than any other pony by 50 lbs. He
was a well-shaped, contented kind of animal, misnamed a pony. Indeed
several of our beasts were too large to fit this description.
Christopher, of course, was wearing himself out quicker than most, but
all of them had lost a lot of weight in spite of the fact that they had
all the oats and oil-cake they could eat. Bowers writes of his pony:

"Victor, my pony, has taken to leading the line, like his opposite number
last season. He is a steady goer, and as gentle as a dear old sheep. I
can hardly realize the strenuous times I had with him only a month ago,
when it took about four of us to get him harnessed to a sledge, and two
of us every time with all our strength to keep him from bolting when in
it. Even at the start of the journey he was as nearly unmanageable as any
beast could be, and always liable to bolt from sheer excess of spirits.
He is more sober now after three weeks of featureless Barrier, but I
think I am more fond of him than ever. He has lost his rotundity, like
all the other horses, and is a long-legged, angular beast, very ugly as
horses go, but still I would not change him for any other."

The ponies were fed by their leaders at the lunch and supper halts, and
by Oates and Bowers during the sleep halt about four hours before we
marched. Several of them developed a troublesome habit of swinging their
nosebags off, some as soon as they were put on, others in their anxiety
to reach the corn still left uneaten in the bottom of the bag. We had to
lash their bags on to their headstalls. "Victor got hold of his head rope
yesterday, and devoured it: not because he is hungry, as he won't eat all
his allowance even now."
^[194]

The original intention was that Day and Hooper should return from 80°
30', but it was now decided that their unit of four should remain intact
for a few days, and constitute a light man-hauling advance party to make
the track.

The weather was much more pleasant and we saw the sun most days, while I
note only one temperature below -20° since leaving One Ton. The ponies
sank in a cruel distance some days, but we were certainly not overworking
them and they had as much food as they could eat. We knew the grim part
was to come, but we never realized how grim it was to be. From this
Northern Barrier Depôt the ponies were mostly drawing less than 500 lbs.
and we had hopes of getting through to the glacier without much
difficulty. All depended on the weather, and just now it was glorious,
and the ponies were going steadily together. Jehu, the crockiest of the
crocks, was led back along the track and shot on the evening of November
24, having reached a point at least 15 miles beyond that where Shackleton
shot his first pony. When it is considered that it was doubtful whether
he could start at all this must be conceded to have been a triumph of
horse-management in which both Oates and Atkinson shared, though neither
so much as Jehu himself, for he must have had a good spirit to have
dragged his poor body so far. "A year's care and good feeding, three
weeks' work with good treatment, a reasonable load and a good ration, and
then a painless end. If anybody can call that cruel I cannot either
understand it or agree with them." Thus Bowers, who continues: "The
midnight sun reflected from the snow has started to burn my face and
lips. I smear them with hazeline before turning in, and find it a good
thing. Wearing goggles has absolutely prevented any recurrence of
snow-blindness. Captain Scott says they make me see everything through
rose-coloured spectacles."

We said good-bye to Day and Hooper next morning, and they set their faces
northwards and homewards.
^[195]
Two-men parties on the Barrier are not
much fun. Day had certainly done his best about the motors and they had
helped us over a bad bit of initial surface. That night Scott wrote:
"Only a few more marches to feel safe in getting to our goal."
^[196]
At
the lunch halt on November 26, in lat. 81° 35', we left our Middle
Barrier Depôt, containing one week's provisions for each returning unit
as at Mount Hooper, a reduction of 200 lbs. in our weights. The march
that day was very trying. "It is always rather dismal work walking over
the great snow plain when sky and surface merge in one pall of dead
whiteness, but it is cheering to be in such good company with everything
going on steadily and well."
^[197]

There was no doubt that the animals were tiring, and "a tired animal
makes a tired man, I find."
^[198]
The next day (November 28) was no
better: "the most dismal start imaginable. Thick as a hedge, snow falling
and drifting with keen southerly wind."
^[199]

Bowers notes: "We have now run down a whole degree of latitude without a
fine day, or anything but clouds, mist, and driving snow from the south."
We certainly did have some difficult marches, one of the worst effects of
which was that we knew we must be making a winding course and we had to
pick up our depôts on the return somehow. Here is a typical bad morning
from Bowers' diary:

"The first four miles of the march were utter misery for me, as Victor,
either through lassitude or because he did not like having to plug into
the wind, went as slow as a funeral horse. The light was so bad that
wearing goggles was most necessary, and the driving snow filled them up
as fast as you cleared them. I dropped a long way astern of the
cavalcade, could hardly see them at times through the snow, but the fear
that Victor, of all the beasts, should give out was like a nightmare. I
have always been used to starting later than the others by a quarter of a
mile, and catching them up. At the four-mile cairn I was about fed up to
the neck with it, but I said very little as everybody was so disgusted
with the weather and things in general that I saw that I was not the only
one in tribulation. Victor turned up trumps after that. He stepped out
and led the line in his old place, and at a good swinging pace
considering the surface, my temper and spirits improving at every step.
In the afternoon he went splendidly again, and finished up by rolling in
the snow when I had taken his harness off, a thing he has not done for
ten or twelve days. It certainly does not look like exhaustion!"

Indeed these days we were fighting for our marches, and Chinaman who was
killed this night seemed well out of it. He reached a point less than 90
miles from the glacier, though this was small comfort to him.

Stumbling and groping our way along as we had been during the last
blizzard we were totally unprepared for the sight which met us during our
next march on November 29. The great ramp of mountains which ran to the
west of us, and would soon bar our way to the South, partly cleared: and
right on top of us it seemed were the triple peaks of Mount Markham.
After some 300 miles of bleak, monotonous Barrier it was a wonderful
sight indeed. We camped at night in latitude 82° 21' S., four miles
beyond Scott's previous Farthest South in 1902. Then they had the best of
luck in clear fine weather, which Shackleton has also recorded at this
stage of his southern journey.

It is curious to see how depressed all our diaries become when this bad
weather obtained, and how quickly we must have cheered up whenever the
sun came out. There is no doubt that a similar effect was produced upon
the ponies. Truth to tell, the mental strain upon those responsible was
very great in these early days, and there is little of outside interest
to relieve the mind. The crystal surface which was an invisible carpet
yesterday becomes a shining glorious sheet of many colours to-day: the
irregularities which caused you so many falls are now quite clear and you
step on or over them without a thought: and when there is added some of
the most wonderful scenery in the world it is hard to recall in the
enjoyment of the present how irritable and weary you felt only twenty
hours ago. The whisper of the sledge, the hiss of the primus, the smell
of the hoosh and the soft folds of your sleeping-bag: how jolly they can
all be, and generally were.

I would that I could once again
Around the cooker sit
And hearken to its soft refrain
And feel so jolly fit.