Part 9 (2/2)

Eventually all was serene, the tent securely anch.o.r.ed by rocks piled close around, and we three were snoring in our bags.

We lay still until the following afternoon, by which time the blizzard had abated, and one could see a mile or two; accordingly we were up and about, so that when the visibility suited, Debenham and I were once more at work and Gran was away to Cape Evans for the purpose of replenis.h.i.+ng our food bag.

It is worthy of mention that Gran could easily carry sixty pounds weight in a ”rygsaek,” (Norwegian knapsack for ski running and towing) and hung about him whilst keeping up a speed on ski that made the best of us sweat.

Debenham whilst in the neighbourhood of the Turk's Head found much of interest to geologists, and was pleased at what we collected in the way of information. ”Deb” was one of the best cooks in the expedition, so we fared well whilst he was with Gran and myself.

Gran kept us alive with his reminiscences, which were always amusing, and he certainly possessed the liveliest imagination in the Expedition. He ought to have been a brigand chief. Sometimes his imaginative foresight led him to commit slight breaches of discipline, as the following anecdote will show. On midwinter night when our table was gay and festive Gran noticed an unopened pint bottle of champagne towards the end of the feast, when ”bubbley” was being superseded by port and liqueurs. Cleverly he coaxed the champagne bottle on to his lap, under his jersey, and finally into his bunk, where it remained hidden until such opportunity should arise for its consumption.

Gran was too generous to finish it himself, and too wise to divide it with many--a pint was for two and no more.

It so happened that whilst we two were working around Glacier Tongue this spring doing survey work we had to come in to Cape Evans for some purpose. We had a hard run out on ski to our camp, and my short legs found great effort necessary to keep pace with the swarthy ski-runner.

Once arrived at the survey camp I puffed and blew and sank nearly exhausted on my sleeping-bag in the tent. I told Gran we must have some tea before re-commencing work, and reached out to get the cooker ready.

Gran asked me what I fancied most in the world, and my reply was--a pint of champagne.

He laughed and asked me what I would give him for that same, to which I articulated, ”FIVE POUNDS,” and sank my tired head between my knees.

Noiselessly the Norwegian glided from the tent to reappear with the stolen champagne bottle. I smiled delightedly, and soon we were hard at work cooking the champagne into its liquid state once more, for it was of course hard frozen in the low temperature.

When we got the stuff melted it had lost its ”fizz,” but it tasted nectar-like even from our aluminium sledge mugs, and such was the stimulus from it that we worked until darkness had set in. I have never paid the five pounds, for the reason that Gran chose a dinner party at the Grand Hotel, Christiania instead: from a financial point of view I should have gained by paying--but that is another story and has no connection with the Frozen South.

On October 13 we finished the coast survey in McMurdo Sound: generally the weather was wretched, but this notwithstanding we got along fairly well with our work. Once back in the Hut there was plenty to be done preparing for the Southern Journey.

My particular work consisted of rating chronometers, sewing, packing, stowing, making sundials, calibrating instruments, and preparing little charts which could be rolled up on a bamboo stick and carried in the instrument boxes of the sledges.

Poor Clissold, our cook, fell off an iceberg while posing for Ponting, and was on account of his severe shaking unable to accompany the Motor party for which Scott had detailed him.

After dinner on October 17 Day started his motors, and amidst a perfect furore of excitement he got one motor sledge down on to the sea ice. At the ice foot, alas, one of the rear axle cases fractured badly and the car was out of action 30 yards from the garage. The other car wouldn't start.

From the 18th until the 24th October, Day and Lashly were at work repairing the disabled car, and they made an excellent job of it, so that there was no delay in the starting date for the pioneer party with the motors.

We got all news by telephone from Hut Point with reference to the state of the surface on the Great Ice Barrier, as Meares and Dimitri returned on October 15 from a flying journey to Corner Camp and back with depot stores. Meares's dogs on this trip covered the seventy statute miles, out and home, in thirty-six hours, including their resting time.

Scott handed me my instructions on October 20, which read as follows:

_Instructions for Motor Party._

Proceed at convenient speed to Corner Camp, thence to One Ton Camp, and thence due South to Lat.i.tude 80 1/2 degrees South. If motors successful

(i) Carry forward from Corner Camp 9 bags forage, 1 bag of oilcake; _but_ see that provision for ponies is intact, _viz._: 3 sacks oats, 1 bag oilcake, 4 bags of forage. If motors pulling very well you can also take 9 cases emergency biscuit.

(ii) In addition carry forward from One Ton Camp all man food and fuel in depot, _viz._: 7 units bagged provisions, 4 boxes biscuit, 8 gallons paraffin, but see that provision for ponies is intact, _viz._: 5 sacks oats; and deposit second bag of oil-cake brought from Corner Camp. If motors pulling very well you can also take 2 or 3 bales of compressed fodder.

It being important that I should have latest news of your success I am arranging for dog teams to follow your tracks for some distance.

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