Part 8 (1/2)

Brodiaga (Robber).

Biele Glas (White Eye).

Wolk (Wolf).

Mannike Noogis (Little Leader).

Kesoi (One Eye).

Julik (Scamp).

Tresor (Treasure).

Vida.

k.u.mugai.

Biela Noogis (White Leader).

Hohol (Little Russian).

Krisraviza (Beauty).

Lappe Uki (Lap Ears).

Petichka (Little Bird).

Cigane (Gipsy).

Giliak (Indian).

Osman.

Seri (Gray).

Sukoi (Lean).

Borup.

Rabchick (Grouse).

Ostre Nos (Long Nose).

Makaka (Monkey).

Chorne Stareek (Black Old Man).

Peary.

_Note._--Borup and Peary were from the American North Polar Expedition puppies. Borup was used in Dimitri's dog team which got right on to the Beardmore Glacier, but Peary was never any use except for the other dogs to sharpen their teeth on. He was a regular pariah.

Apart from the sledge dogs, we had a b.i.t.c.h called La.s.sie for breeding purposes, but she was a rotten dog and killed her puppies, so we might as well have left her in New Zealand, where we got her.

The dogs came through the winter very well, and during blizzards they merely coiled themselves up into round b.a.l.l.s of fur and let the snow drift over them. Meares and Dimitri kept a very watchful eye over the dog teams, and protected them against the prevailing winds with substantial snow-shelters, always taking the weaker or sick animals into the annexe where Birdie kept his stores, or else into the small dog hospital, which was made by Dimitri and perfected by Meares.

The sun returned to us on the 22nd August. We were denied a sight of it owing to bad weather, for on the 22nd and 23rd August we had a blizzard with very heavy snowfall, and the drift was so great that, when it became necessary to leave the hut for any purpose, the densely packed flakes almost stifled us. We hoped to see the sun at noon on the 23rd when it was denied us on the previous day, but no such luck, the sun's return was heralded by one of our worst blizzards, which continued with very occasional lulls until August 26, when we actually saw the sun, just a bit of it. I saw the upper limb from out on the sea ice, and Sunny Jim at the same time got a sight of it from his observatory hill. How glad we were. We drank champagne to honour the sun, people made poetry concerning it, some of which--Birdie Bowers's lines--found their way eventually into the ”South Polar Times.” The animals went half dotty over it, frisking, kicking, and breaking away even from their leaders; they seemed to understand so well, these little ponies, that the worst part of the winter was gone--poor ponies! Long before the sun again disappeared below the northern horizon the ponies were no more.

There is not so very much in the statement that the sun had now returned, but the fact, of little enough significance to those without the Antarctic Circle, left something in our minds, an impression never to be effaced--the snowed-up hut surrounded by a great expanse of white, the rather surprised look an the dogs' faces, the sniffing at one's knees and the wagging of tails as one approached to pat their heads, the twitching of the ponies' ears and nostrils, and the rather impish att.i.tude the fitter animals adopted, the occasional kick out, probably meant quite playfully, and above all the grins on the faces of the Russian grooms.

Yes, we were all smiling when the sun came back, even the horizon smiled kindly at us from the north. The Barne Glacier's snout lost its inexorable hard gray look and took on softer hues, and Erebus's slopes were now bathed in every shade of orange, pink, and purple. To begin with, we had very little of this lovely colouring, but soon the gladdening tints stretched out over morning and afternoon. We were never idle in the hut, but the sun's return seemed to make fingers lighter as well as hearts.

CHAPTER X