The Worst Journey in the World Part 44

In the plan of the Southern Journey Scott, working on Shackleton's averages, mentions March 27 as a possible date of return to Hut Point, allowing seven days in from One Ton. Whilst on the outward journey I heard Scott discuss the possibility of returning in April; and the Polar Party had enough food to allow them to do this on full rations.

Atkinson and Dimitri with the two dog-teams left Cape Evans for Hut Point on February 13 because the sea-ice, which was our only means of communication between these places, and so to the Barrier, was beginning to break up. Atkinson intended to leave Hut Point for the Barrier in about a week's time. At 3.30 A.M. on February 19 Crean arrived with the astounding news that Lieutenant Evans, still alive but at his last gasp, was lying out near Corner Camp, and that Lashly was nursing him; that the Last Supporting Party had consisted of three men only, a possibility which had never been considered; and that they had left Scott, travelling rapidly and making good averages, only 148 geographical miles from the Pole. Scott was so well advanced that it seemed that he would be home much earlier than had been antic.i.p.ated.

A blizzard which had been threatening on the Barrier, and actually blowing at Hut Point, during Crean's solitary journey, but which had lulled as he arrived, now broke with full force, and nothing could be done for Evans until it took off sufficiently for the dog-teams to travel. But in the meantime Crean urgently wanted food and rest and warmth. As these were supplied to him Atkinson learned bit by bit the story of the saving of Evans' life, told so graphically in Lashly's diary which is given in the preceding chapter, and pieced together the details of Crean's solitary walk of thirty-five statute miles. This effort was made, it should be remembered, at the end of a journey of three and a half months, and over ground rendered especially perilous by creva.s.ses, from which a man travelling alone had no chance of rescue in case of accident. Crean was walking for eighteen hours, and it was lucky for him, as also for his companions, that the blizzard which broke half an hour after his arrival did not come a little sooner, for no power on earth could have saved him then, and the news of Evans' plight would not have been brought.

The blizzard raged all that day, and the next night and morning, and nothing could be done. But during the afternoon of the 20th the conditions improved, and at 4.30 P.M. Atkinson and Dimitri started with the two dog-teams, though it was still blowing hard and very thick. They travelled, with one rest for the dogs, until 4.30 P.M. the next day, but had a very hazy idea where they were most of the time, owing to the vile weather: once at any rate they seem to have got right in under White Island. When they camped the second time they thought they were in the neighbourhood of Lashly's tent, and in a temporary clearance they saw the flag which Lashly had put up on the sledge. Evans was still alive, and Atkinson was able to give him immediately the fresh vegetables, fruit, and seal meat which his body wanted. Atkinson has never been able to express adequately the admiration he feels for Lashly's care and nursing.

All that night and the next day the blizzard continued and made a start impossible, and it was not until 3 A.M. on the morning of the 22nd that they could start for Hut Point, Evans being carried in his sleeping-bag on the sledge. Lashly has told how they got home.

At Cape Evans we knew nothing of these events, which had made reorganization inevitable. It was clear that Atkinson, being the only doctor available, would have to stay with Evans, who was very seriously ill: indeed Atkinson told me that another day, or at the most two, would have finished him. In fact he says that when he first saw him he thought he must die. It was a considerable surprise then when Dimitri with Crean and one dog-team reached Cape Evans about mid-day on February 23 with a note from Atkinson, who said that he thought he had better stay with Lieutenant Evans and that some one else should take out the dogs. He suggested that Wright or myself should take them. This was our first intimation that the dogs had not already gone South.

Wright and I started for Hut Point by 2 P.M. the same day and on our arrival it was decided by Atkinson that I was to take out the dogs. Owing to the early departure of our meteorologist, Simpson, Wright, who had special qualifications for this important work, was to remain at Cape Evans. Dimitri having rested his dog-team overnight at Cape Evans arrived at Hut Point on the morning of the 24th.

Now the daily distance which every 4-man party had to average from Hut Point to its turning-point and back to Hut Point, so as to be on full rations all the way, was only 8.4 geographical miles. From Hut Point to the lat.i.tude in which he was last seen, 87 32' S., Scott had averaged more than ten geographical miles a day.

Taking into consideration the advanced lat.i.tude, 87 32' S., at which the Second Return Party had left Scott, and the extremely good daily averages these two parties had marched on the plateau up to this point, namely 12.3 geographical miles a day; seeing also that the First Return Party had averaged 14.2 geographical miles on their return from 85 3' S. to One Ton Depot; and the Second Return Party had averaged 11.2 geographical miles on their return from 87 32' S. to the same place, although one of the three men was seriously ill; it was supposed that all the previous estimates made for the return of the Polar Party were too late, and that the opportunity to reach One Ton Camp before them had been lost.

Meanwhile the full rations for their return over the 140 miles (statute) from One Ton to Hut Point were still at Hut Point.

My orders were given me by Atkinson, and were verbal, as follows:

1. To take 24 days' food for the two men, and 21 days' food for the two dog-teams, together with the food for the Polar Party.

2. To travel to One Ton Depot as fast as possible and leave the food there.

3. If Scott had not arrived at One Ton Depot before me I was to judge what to do.

4. That Scott was not in any way dependent on the dogs for his return.

5. That Scott had given particular instructions that the dogs were not to be risked in view of the sledging plans for next season.

Since it had proved impossible to take the depot of dog-food, together with the full Polar Party rations, to One Ton before this; considering the unforeseen circ.u.mstances which had arisen; and seeing that this journey of the dog-teams was not indispensable, being simply meant to bring the last party home more speedily, I do not believe that better instructions could have been given than these of Atkinson.

I was eager to start as soon as the team which had come back from Cape Evans was rested, but a blizzard prevented this. On the morning of the 25th it was thick as a hedge, but it cleared enough to pack sledges in the afternoon, and when we turned into our bags we could see Observation Hill. We started at 2 A.M. that night.

I confess I had my misgivings. I had never driven one dog, let alone a team of them; I knew nothing of navigation; and One Ton was a hundred and thirty miles away, out in the middle of the Barrier and away from landmarks. And so as we pushed our way out through the wind and drift that night I felt there was a good deal to be hoped for, rather than to be expected. But we got along very well, Dimitri driving his team in front, as he did most of this journey, and picking up marks very helpfully with his sharp eyes. In the low temperatures we met, the gla.s.ses which I must wear are almost impossible, because of fogging. We took three boxes of dog-biscuit from Safety Camp and another three boxes from a point sixteen miles from Hut Point. Here we rested the dogs for a few hours, and started again at 6 P.M. All day the light was appalling, and the wind strong, but to my great relief we found Corner Camp after four hours' more travelling, the flag showing plainly, though the cairn itself was invisible when a hundred yards away. This was the last place where there was any dog-food on the route, and the dogs got a good feed after doing thirty-four miles (statute) for the day's run. This was more than we had hoped: the only disquieting fact was that both the sledge-meters which we had were working wrong: the better of the two seemed however to be marking the total mileage fairly correctly at present, though the hands which indicated more detailed information were quite at sea. We had no minimum thermometer, but the present temperature was -4.

"_February 27._ Mount Terror has proved our friend to-day, for the slope just above the Knoll has remained clear when everything else was covered, and we have steered by that--behind us. It seemed, when we started in low drift, that we should pick up nothing, but by good luck, or good I don't know what, we have got everything: first the motor, then pony walls at 10 miles, where we stopped and had a cup of tea. I wanted to do 15 miles, but we have done 18 miles on the best running surface I have ever seen.

After lunch we got a cairn which we could not see twenty yards away after we had reached it, but which we could see for a long way on the southern horizon, against a thin strip of blue sky. We camped just in time to get the tent pitched before a line of drift we saw coming out of the sky hit us. It is now blowing a mild blizzard and drifting. Forty-eight miles in two days is more than I expected: may our luck continue. Dogs pulling very fit and not done up.

"_February 28._ I had my first upset just after starting, the sledge capsizing on a great sastrugus like the Ramp. Dimitri was a long way ahead and all behind was very thick. I had to unload the sledge for I could not right it alone. Just as I righted it the team took charge. I missed the driving-stick but got on to the sledge with no hope of stopping them, and I was carried a mile to the south, leaving four boxes of dog-food, the weekly bag, cooker, and tent poles on the ground. The team stopped when they reached Dimitri's team, and by then the gear was out of sight. We went back for it, and made good 16 miles for the day on a splendid surface. The sun went down at 11.15 (10.15 A.T.), miraged quite flat on top. After he had gone down a great bonfire seemed to blaze out from the horizon. Now -22 and we use a candle for the first time.

"_February 29. Bluff Depot._ If anybody had told me we could reach Bluff Depot, nearly ninety miles, in four days, I would not have believed it.

We have had a good clear day with much mirage. Dogs a bit tired."[262]

The next three days' run took us to One Ton. On the day we left Bluff Depot, which had been made a little more than a year ago, when certain of the ponies were sent home on the Depot Journey,[263] but which no longer contained any provisions, we travelled 12 miles; there was a good light and it was as warm as could be expected in March. The next day (March 2) we did 9 miles after a cold and sleepless night, -24 and a mild blizzard from N.W. and quite thick. On the night of March 3 we reached One Ton, heading into a strongish wind with a temperature of -24. These were the first two days on which we had cold weather, but it was nothing to worry about for us, and was certainly not colder than one could ordinarily have expected at this time of year.

Arrived at One Ton my first feeling was one of relief that the Polar Party had not been to the Depot and that therefore we had got their provisions out in time. The question of what we were to do in the immediate future was settled for us; for four days out of the six during which we were at One Ton the weather made travelling southwards, that is against the wind, either entirely impossible or such that the chance of seeing another party at any distance was nil. On the two remaining days I could have run a day farther South and back again, with the possibility of missing the party on the way. I decided to remain at the Depot where we were certain to meet.

On the day after we arrived at One Ton (March 4) Dimitri came to me and said that the dogs ought to be given more food, since they were getting done and were losing their coats: they had, of course, done a great deal of sledging already this year. Dimitri had long experience of dog-driving and I had none. I thought and I still think he was right. I increased the dog ration therefore, and this left us with thirteen more days' dog-food, including that for March 4.

The weather was bad when we were at One Ton, for when it was blowing the temperature often remained comparatively low, and when it was not blowing it dropped considerably, and I find readings in my diary of -34 and -37 at 8 P.M. Having no minimum thermometer we did not know the night temperatures. On the other hand I find an entry: "To-day is the first real good one we have had, only about -10 and the sun s.h.i.+ning,--and we have s.h.i.+fted the tent, dried our bags and gear a lot, and been pottering about all day." At this time, however, when we were at One Ton I looked upon these conditions as being a temporary cold snap: there was no reason then to suppose these were normal March conditions in the middle of the Barrier, where no one had ever been at this time of year. I believe now they are normal: on the other hand, in our meteorological report Simpson argues that they were abnormal for the Barrier at this time of year.[264]

Since there was no depot of dog-food at One Ton it was not possible to go farther South (except for the one day mentioned above) without killing dogs. My orders on this point were perfectly explicit; I saw no reason for disobeying them, and indeed it appeared that we had been wrong to hurry out so soon, before the time that Scott had reckoned that he would return, and that the Polar Party would really come in at the time Scott had calculated before starting rather than at the time we had reckoned from the data brought back by the Last Return Party.

From the particulars already given it will be seen that I had no reason to suspect that the Polar Party could be in want of food. The Polar Party of five men had according to our rations plenty of food either on their sledge or in the depots. In addition they had a lot of pony meat depoted at Middle Glacier Depot and onwards from there. Though we did not know it, the death of Evans at the foot of the Beardmore Glacier provided an additional amount of food for the four men who were then left. The full amount of oil for this food had been left in the depots; but we know now what we did not know then, that some of it had evaporated. These matters are discussed in greater detail in the account of the return of the Polar Party and after.[265]

Thus I felt little anxiety for the Polar Party. But I was getting anxious about my companion. Soon after arrival at One Ton it was clear that Dimitri was feeling the cold. He complained of his head; then his right arm and side were affected; and from this time onwards he found that he could do less and less with his right side. Still I did not worry much about it, and my decision as to our movements was not affected by this complication. I decided to allow eight days' food for our return, which meant that we must start on March 10.

"_March 10._ Pretty cold night: -33 when we turned out at 8 A.M.

Getting our gear together, and the dogs more or less into order after their six days was cold work, and we started in minus thirties and a head wind. The dogs were mad,--stark, staring lunatics. Dimitri's team wrecked my sledge-meter, and I left it lying on the ground a mile from One Ton.

All we could do was to hang on to the sledge and let them go: there wasn't a chance to go back, turn them or steer them. Dimitri broke his driving-stick: my team fought as they went: once I was dragged with my foot pinned under my driving-stick, which was itself jammed in the grummet: several times I only managed to catch on anywhere: this went on for six or seven miles, and then they got better."[266]

Our remaining sledge-meter was quite unreliable, but following our outward tracks (for it became thick and overcast), and judging by our old camping sites, we reckoned that we had done an excellent run of 23 to 24 miles (statute) for the day. The temperature when we camped was only -14. However it became much colder in the night, and when we turned out it was so thick that I decided we must wait. At 2 P.M. on March 11 there was one small patch of blue sky showing, and we started to steer by this: soon it was blowing a mild blizzard, and we stopped after doing what I reckoned was eight miles, steering by trying to keep the wind on my ear: but I think we were turning circles much of the time. It blew hard and was very cold during the night, and we turned out on the morning of March 12 to a blizzard with a temperature of -33: this gradually took off, and at 10 A.M. Dimitri said he could see the Bluff, and we were right into the land, and therefore the pressure. This was startling, but later it cleared enough to rea.s.sure me, though Dimitri was so certain that during the first part of our run that day I steered east a lot. We did 25 to 30 miles this day in drift and a temperature of -28.

By now I was becoming really alarmed and anxious about Dimitri, who seemed to be getting much worse, and to be able to do less and less.

Sitting on a sledge the next day with a head wind and the temperature -30 was cold. The land was clear when we turned out and I could see that we must be far outside our course, but almost immediately it became foggy. We made in towards the land a good deal, and made a good run, but owing to the sledge-meter being useless and the bad weather generally during the last few days, I had a very hazy idea indeed where we were when we camped, having been steering for some time by the faint gleam of the sun through the mist. Just after camping Dimitri suddenly pointed to a black spot which seemed to wave to and fro: we decided that it was the flag of the derelict motor near Corner Camp which up to that time I thought was ten to fifteen miles away: this was a great relief, and we debated packing up again and going to it, but decided to stay where we were.

It was fairly clear on the morning of March 14, which was lucky, for it was now obvious that we were miles from Corner Camp and much too near the land. The flag we had seen must have been a miraged piece of pressure, and it was providential that we had not made for it, and found worse trouble than we actually experienced. Try all I could that morning, my team, which was leading, insisted on edging westwards. At last I saw what I thought was a cairn, but found out just in time that it was a hayc.o.c.k or mound of ice formed by pressure: by its side was a large open creva.s.se, of which about fifty yards of snow-bridge had fallen in. For several miles we knew that we were crossing big creva.s.ses by the hollow sound, and it was with considerable relief that I sighted the motor and then Corner Camp some two or three miles to the east of us. "Dimitri had left his Alpine rope there, and also I should have liked to have brought in Evans' sledge, but it would have meant about five miles extra, and I left it. I hope Scott, finding no note, will not think we are lost."[267]

Dimitri seemed to be getting worse, and we pushed on until we camped that night only fifteen miles from Hut Point. My main anxiety was whether the sea-ice between us and Hut Point was in, because I felt that the job of getting the teams up on to the Peninsula and along it and down the other side would be almost more than we could do: there was an ominous open-water sky ahead.

On March 15 we were held up all day by a strong blizzard. But by 8 A.M.

the next morning we could see just the outline of White Island. I was very anxious, for Dimitri said that he had nearly fainted, and I felt that we must get on somehow, and chance the sea-ice being in. He stayed inside the tent as long as possible, and my spirits rose as the land began to clear all round while I was packing up both sledges. From Safety Camp the mirage at the edge of the Barrier was alarming, but as we approached the edge to my very great relief I found that the sea-ice was still in, and that what we had taken for frost smoke was only drift over Cape Armitage.

Pus.h.i.+ng into the drift round the corner I found Atkinson on the sea-ice, and Keohane in the hut behind. In a few minutes we had the gist of one another's news. The s.h.i.+p had made attempt after attempt to reach Campbell and his five men, but they had not been taken off from Evans Coves when she finally left McMurdo Sound on March 4: she would make another effort on her way to New Zealand. Evans was better and was being taken home.

Meanwhile there were four of us at Hut Point and we could not communicate with our companions at Cape Evans until the Sound froze over, for the open sea was was.h.i.+ng the feet of Vince's Cross.

We were not unduly alarmed about the Polar Party at present, but began to make arrangements for further sledging if necessary. It was useless to think of taking the dogs again for they were thoroughly done. The mules and the new dogs were at Cape Evans. "In four or five days Atkinson wishes to start South again to see what we can do man-hauling, if the Polar Party is not in. I agree with him that to try and go west to meet Campbell is useless just now. If we can go north, they can come south, and to put two parties there on the new sea-ice is to double the risk."

"_March 17._ A blizzard day but only about force 5-6. I think they will have been able to travel all right on the Barrier. Atkinson thinks of starting on the 22nd: my view is that allowing three weeks and four days for the Summit, and ten days for being hung up by weather, we can give them five weeks after the Last Return Party (i.e. to March 26) to get in, having been quite safe and sound all the way. We feel anxious now, but I do not think there is need for alarm till then, and they might get in well after that, and be all right.

"Now our only real chance of finding them, if we go out, is from here to ten miles south of Corner Camp. After that we shall do all we can, but it would be no good, because there is no very definite route. Therefore I would start out on March 27, when we would travel that part with most chance of meeting them there if they have any trouble. I have put this to Atkinson and will willingly do what he decides. I am feeling pretty done up, and have rested. The prospect of what will be a hard journey, feeling as I do, is rather bad. I don't think there is really cause for alarm."

"_March 18 and 19._ We are very anxious, though the Pole Party could not be in yet. Also I am very done, and more so than I at first thought: I am afraid it is a bit doubtful whether I can get out again yet, but to-day I feel better and have been for a short walk. I am taking all the rest I can."

"_March 20._ Last night a very strong blizzard blew, wind force 9 and big snowfall and drift. This morning the doors and windows are all drifted up, and we could hardly get out: a lot of snow had got inside the hut also: I was feeling rotten, and thought that to go out and clear the window and door would do me good. This I did, but came back in a big squall, pa.s.sing Atkinson as I came in. Then I felt myself going faint, and remember pus.h.i.+ng the door to get in if possible. I knew no more until I came to on the floor just inside the door, having broken some tendons in my right hand in falling."[268]

Two days afterwards the dogs sang at breakfast-time: they often did this when a party was approaching, even when it was still far away, and they had done so when Crean came in on his walk from Corner Camp. We were cheered by the noise. But no party arrived, and the singing of the dogs was explained later by some seal appearing on the new ice in Arrival Bay.

Atkinson decided to go out on to the Barrier man-hauling with Keohane on the 26th. It was obvious that I could not go with them: he told me afterwards that when I came in with the dog-teams he was sure I could not go out again.

"_March 25._ The wind came away yesterday evening, first S.W. and then S.E. but not bad, though very thick. It was a surprise to find we could see the Western Mountains this morning, and I believe it has been a good day on the Barrier, though it is still blowing with low drift this evening. We are now on the days when I expect the Polar Party in: pray G.o.d I may be right. Atkinson and I look at one another, and he looks, and I feel, quite haggard with anxiety. He says he does not think they have scurvy. We both, I think, feel quite comfortable, in comparison, about Campbell: he only wants to exercise care, and his great care was almost a byword on the s.h.i.+p. They are fresh and they have plenty of seal.[269] He discussed with Pennell both the possibility of s.h.i.+pwreck and that of the s.h.i.+p being unable to get to him, and for this reason landed an extra month's rations as a depot; also he contemplated the idea of living on seal. He knows of the b.u.t.ter Point Depot, and knows that a party has been sledging in that neighbourhood: though he does not know of the depots they left at Cape Roberts and Cape Bernacchi, they are right out on the Points and Taylor says he could not miss them on his way down the coast."[270]

This day Atkinson thought he saw Campbell's party coming in, and the next day Keohane and Dimitri came in great excitement and said they could see them, and we were out on the Point and on the sea-ice in the drift for quite a long time. "Last night we had turned in about two hours when five or six knocks were hit on the little window over our heads. Atkinson shouted 'Hullo!' and cried, 'Cherry, they're in.' Keohane said, 'Who's cook?' Some one lit a candle and left it in the far corner of the hut to give them light, and we all rushed out. But there was no one there. It was the nearest approach to ghost work that I have ever heard, and it must have been a dog which sleeps in that window. He must have shaken himself, hitting the window with his tail. Atkinson thought he heard footsteps!"[271]

On Wednesday, March 27, Atkinson started out on to the Barrier with one companion, Keohane. During the whole of this trip the temperatures were low, and both men obtained but little sleep, finding of course that a tent occupied by two men only is a very cold place. The first two days they made nine miles each day, on March 29 they pushed on in thick weather for eleven miles, when the weather cleared enough to show them that they had got into the White Island pressure. On March 30 they reached a point south of Corner Camp, when "taking into consideration the weather, and temperatures, and the time of the year, and the hopelessness of finding the party except at any definite point like a depot, I decided to return from here. We depoted the major portion of a week's provisions to enable them to communicate with Hut Point in case they should reach this point. At this date in my own mind I was morally certain that the party had perished, and in fact on March 29 Captain Scott, 11 miles south of One Ton Depot, made the last entry in his diary."[272]

"They arrived back on April 1. Yesterday evening at 6.30 P.M. Atkinson and Keohane arrived. It was pretty thick here and blowing too, but they had had a fair day on the Barrier. They had been out to Corner Camp and eight miles farther. Their bags were bad, their clothes very bad after six days: they must have had minus forties constantly. It is a moral certainty that to go farther south would serve no purpose, and for two men would be a useless risk. They did quite right to come back. They are much in want of sleep, poor devils, and I do hope Atkinson will allow himself to rest: he looks as though he might knock up. Keohane did well, and is very fit. They came in over fifteen miles yesterday, and have brought in the sledge of the Second Return Party, the one they took out being very heavy pulling. They had no day on which they could not travel.