The Worst Journey in the World (66 page)

18th February 1912.

I started to move Mr. Evans this morning, but he completely collapsed and
fainted away. Crean was very upset and almost cried, but I told him it
was no good to create a scene but put up a bold front and try to assist.
I really think he thought Mr. Evans had gone, but we managed to pull him
through. We used the last drop of brandy. After awhile we got him on the
sledge and proceeded as usual, but finding the surface very bad and we
were unable to make less than a mile an hour, we stopped and decided to
camp. We told Mr. Evans of our plans, which were: Crean should proceed,
it being a splendid day, on foot to Hut Point to obtain relief if
possible. This we had agreed to between ourselves. I offered to do the
Journey and Crean remain behind, but Tom said he would much rather I
stayed with the invalid and look after him, so I thought it best I should
remain, and these plans were agreed to by all of us, so after we had
camped the next thing was the food problem. We had about a day's
provisions with extra biscuit taken from the motor, and a little extra
oil taken from the same place, so we gave Crean what he thought he could
manage to accomplish the Journey of 30 miles geographical on, which was a
little chocolate and biscuits. We put him up a little drink, but he would
not carry it. What a pity we did not have some ski, but we dumped them to
save weight. So Crean sailed away in splendid weather for a try to bring
relief. I was in a bit of a sweat all day and remained up to watch the
weather till long after midnight. I was afraid of the weather, but it
kept clear and I thought he might have reached or got within easy
distance of Hut Point; but there was the possibility of his dropping down
a crevasse, but that we had to leave to chance, but none the more it was
anxious moments as if it comes on to drift the weather is very
treacherous in these parts. After Crean left I left Mr. Evans and
proceeded to Corner Camp which was about a mile away, to see if there was
any provisions left there that would be of use to us. I found a little
butter, a little cheese, and a little treacle that had been brought there
for the ponies. I also went back to the motor and got a little more oil
while the weather was fine. I also got a large piece of burbery and tied
on a long bamboo and stuck up a big flag on our sledge so that anyone
could not pass our way without seeing us or our flag. I found a note left
at Corner Camp by Mr. Day saying there was a lot of very bad crevasses
between there and the sea ice, especially off White Island. This put me
in a bit of a fix, as I, of course, at once thought of Crean. He being on
foot was more likely to go down than he would had he been on ski. I did
not tell Mr. Evans anything about the crevasses, as I certainly thought
it would be best kept from him. I just told him the note was there and
all was well.

19th February 1912.

To-day Mr. Evans seems a bit better and more cheerful, the rest will do
him good and assist in getting a little strength. We have been wondering
when relief will reach us, but we cannot expect it for at least a day or
two yet at the earliest. It was very thick this morning and also very
cold. The temperature is dropping rapidly. Our tent was all covered in
frost rime to-day, a sure sign of colder weather. It was very thick this
morning but cleared as the day advanced, but we could not see Hut Point.
I wonder if poor old Tom reached alright. We have very little food now
except biscuit, but oil is better. We have got ½ gallon and if relief
dont come for some time we shall be able to have hot water when all other
things are gone. I have thought out a plan for the future, in case of no
relief coming, but of course we took all things into consideration in
case of failure, but we must hope for the best. Of course I know it is no
use thinking of Mr. Evans being able to move any further as he cant stand
at all, the only thing is, we may have missed the dogs, if so there is
still a chance of someone being at Hut Point. I am cold now and cannot
write more to-night. We lose the sun at midnight now. If all had went
well we should have been home by now.

20th February 1912.

Tuesday not a nice day. A low drift all the morning and increased to a
blizzard at times. Have had to remain in the tent all day to try and keep
warm. Have not got much food except biscuits. Mr. Evans is about the same
but quite cheerful. We have had whole journey over and over: it have
passed these three days away. We have wondered how they are getting on
behind us; we have worked it out and they ought to be on the Barrier now,
with anything of luck. We have been gambling on the condition of the ice
and the possibility of the open water at Hut Point at any time now, and
also about what news of home, although home is one of the foremost
thoughts we hardly ever mention it, only what we are going to have to eat
when we do arrive there. I think we have got everything that is good down
on our list. Of course New Zealand have got to be answerable for a good
deal: plenty of apples we are going to have and some nice home-made cake,
not too rich, as we think we can eat more. I wonder if the mules will
have arrived, as I am to look after them till Capt. Oates returns, as
Anton will be gone home, or at least going soon. We shall have to hurry
up as the ship is to leave again on the 2nd of March, as it is not safe
to remain longer in these regions. I am now too cold to write, and I dont
seem settled at all and the weather is still pretty bad outside, so we
are not going to look for anything to come along to-night. "Hark!" from
us both. "Yes, it is the dogs near. Relief at last. Who is there?" I did
not stay to think more before I was outside the tent. "Yes, sir, it is
alright." The Doctor and Dimitri. "How did you see us?" "The flag Lash,"
says Dimitri. The Doctor, "How is Mr. Evans?" "Alright, but low." But
this had a good effect on him. After the first few minutes we got their
tent pitched and the food they brought us I was soon on the way preparing
a meal for us all, but Mr. Evans cannot have pemmican, but the Doctor
have brought everything that will do him good, some onions to boil and
several other things. Dimitri brought along a good lump of cake: we are
in clover. To-night after the Doctor had examined my patient and we got
through a good deal of talk about everything we could think of,
especially home news and the return parties and the ship and those in
her. We were sorry to hear she had not been able to get very near, and
that the mules had arrived, and I dont know what, we now settled down for
a good night. It seems to me we are in a new world, a weight is off my
mind and I can once more see a bright spot in the sky for us all, the
gloom is now removed. The bliz is bad outside, and Doctor and Dimitri is
gone and turned in, so will
(I)
once more, but sleep is out of the
question.

21st February 1912.

The day have been very bad and we are obliged to remain until it clears.
We are going to move off as soon as it clears, the day have been very
cold, so we have had to remain in our bags, but things are alright and we
have got plenty to eat now. We have all retired for the night as the bliz
is still raging outside.

22nd February 1912.

The wind went down about 9 P.M., so we began to move and were ready to
kick off at 10, and proposed to do the journey in two stages. It was
fearful heavy going for the poor dogs, we arranged so that Mr. Evans was
on Dimitri's sledge and Doctor and myself was on the other. We have done
about half the journey and are now camped for a rest for the dogs and
ourselves. We had a stiff 16 miles: the Doctor and myself, we took turns
in riding on the sledge and walking and running to keep up to the dogs.
Sometimes we sank in up to the knees, but we struggled through it. My
legs is the most powerful part of me now, but I am tired and shall be
glad when it is over. I must lie down now, as we are starting again soon
for Hut Point, but the surface is getting better as we have passed White
Island and can see so plainly the land. Castle Rock and good old Erebus
look so stately with the smoke rolling out. It is so clear and calm and
peaceful. What a change in our surroundings of a few days ago and also
our prospects. Doctor and Dimitri have done everything they could for us.

22nd February 1912.

We started off after a rest for the dogs and reached here at Hut Point at
1 P.M. where we can rest in peace for a time. Dimitri and Crean are going
to Cape Evans: the ship is nowhere in sight. Have had to get some seal
meat and ice and prepare a meal. Mr. Evans is alright and asleep. We are
looking for a mail now. How funny we should always be looking for
something else, now we are safe.

(End of Lashly's Diary.)

Crean has told me the story of his walk as follows:

He started at 10 on Sunday morning and "the surface was good, very good
surface indeed," and he went about sixteen miles before he stopped. Good
clear weather. He had three biscuits and two sticks of chocolate. He
stopped about five minutes, sitting on the snow, and ate two biscuits and
the chocolate, and put one biscuit back in his pocket. He was quite warm
and not sleepy.

He carried on just the same and passed Safety Camp on his right some five
hours later, and thinks it was about twelve-thirty on Monday morning that
he reached the edge of the Barrier, tired, getting cold in the back and
the weather coming on thick. It was bright behind him but it was coming
over the Bluff, and White Island was obscured though he could still see
Cape Armitage and Castle Rock. He slipped a lot on the sea-ice, having
several falls on to his back and it was getting thicker all the time. At
the Barrier edge there was a light wind, now it was blowing a strong
wind, drifting and snowing. He made for the Gap and could not get up at
first. To avoid taking a lot out of himself he started to go round Cape
Armitage; but soon felt slush coming through his finnesko (he had no
crampons) and made back for the Gap. He climbed up to the left of the Gap
and climbed along the side of Observation Hill to avoid the slippery ice.
When he got to the top it was still clear enough to see vaguely the
outline of Hut Point, but he could see no sledges nor dogs. He sat down
under the lee of Observation Hill, and finished his biscuit with a bit of
ice: "I was very dry,"—slid down the side of Observation Hill and
thought at this time there was open water below, for he had no goggles on
the march and his eyes were strained. But on getting near the ice-foot he
found it was polished sea-ice and made his way round to the hut under the
ice-foot. When he got close he saw the dogs and sledges on the sea-ice,
and it was now blowing very hard with drift. He walked in and found the
Doctor and Dimitri inside. "He gave me a tot first, and then a feed of
porridge—but I couldn't keep it down: thats the first time in my life
that ever it happened, and it was the brandy that did it."

All the past we leave behind;
We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world;
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labour and the march,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

We detachments steady throwing,
Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing, as we go, the unknown ways,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

WALT WHITMAN.

Let us come back to Cape Evans after the return of the First Supporting
Party.

Hitherto our ways had always been happy: for the most part they had been
pleasant. Scott was going to reach the Pole, probably without great
difficulty, for when we left him on the edge of the plateau he had only
to average seven miles a day to go there on full rations. We ourselves
had averaged 14.2 geographical miles a day on our way home to One Ton
Depôt, and there seemed no reason to suppose that the other two parties
would not do likewise, and the food was not only sufficient but abundant
if such marches were made. Thus we were content as we wandered over the
cape, or sat upon some rock warmed by the sun and watched the penguins
bathing in the lake which had formed in the sea-ice between us and
Inaccessible Island. All round us were the cries of the skua gulls as
they squabbled among themselves, and we heard the swish of their wings as
they swooped down upon a man who wandered too near their nests. Out upon
the sea-ice, which was soggy and dangerous, lay several seal, and the
bubblings and whistlings and gurglings which came from their throats
chimed musically in contrast to the hoarse aak, aak, of the Adélie
penguins: the tide crack was sighing and groaning all the time: it was
very restful after the Barrier silence.

Meanwhile the Terra Nova had been seen in the distance, but the state of
the sea-ice prevented her approach. It was not until February 4 that
communication was opened with her and we got our welcome mails and news
of the world during the last year. We heard that Campbell's party had
been picked up at Cape Adare and landed at Evans Coves. We started
unloading on February 9, and this work was continued until February 14:
there was about three miles of ice between the ship and the shore and we
were doing more than twenty miles a day. In the case of men who had been
sledging much, and who might be wanted to sledge again, this was a
mistake. Latterly the ice began to break up, and the ship left on the
15th, to pick up the Geological Party on the western side of McMurdo
Sound. But she met great obstacles, and her record near the coasts this
year is one of continual fights against pack-ice, while the winds
experienced as the season advanced were very strong. On January 13 the
fast ice at the mouth of McMurdo Sound extended as far as the southern
end of the Bird Peninsula: ten days later they found fast ice extending
for thirty miles from the head of Granite Harbour. Later in the season
the most determined efforts were made again and again to penetrate into
Evans Coves in order to pick up Campbell and his men, until the ice was
freezing all round them, and many times the propeller was brought up dead
against blocks of ice.
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