South with Scott Part 16

This dreadful blizzard was a terrific blow to Oates. He of all men set himself to better the ponies' state during the bad weather. The animals lost condition with a rapidity that was horrible to observe. The cutting wind whirling the sleet round the ponies gave them a very sorry time, but whenever one peeped out of the tent door there was Oates, wet to the skin, trying to keep life in his charges. I think the poor soldier suffered as much as the ponies. He had felt that every time he re-entered his tent (which was also Captain Scott's) that he took in more wet snow and helped to increase the general discomfort. This being the case when he went out to the ponies, he stopped out, and kept his vigil crouching behind a drifted up pony-wall. We others could not help laughing at him, after the blizzard, when he wrung the icy water out of his clothing. His personal bag was in a fearful state, his sodden tobacco had discoloured everything, and as he squeezed his spare socks and gloves a stream of nicotine-stained water flowed out. I am unable to reproduce his observations on the subject--they were dry, picturesque, and to the point, and even our bluejackets, who were none too particular about language, looked at Oates with undisguised astonishment at the length and variety of his emergency vocabulary.

December 7 showed no change: the blizzard was continuous, food our only comfort. Personally I read Atkinson's copy of "Little Dorrit," for it sufficed nothing to despair; we could not move, and one had to be patient.

Next day we had less wind, but it snowed most of the day. We did, all the same, get glimpses of the sun and one of the land. Dug out all sledges and hauled them clear, then tried the surface, and to Scott's and our own surprise my party hauling on ski dragged the sledge with four big men sitting on it over the surface as much as we chose.

I had thought it beyond our power, it is true. We then returned to camp.

Without ski one sank more than knee deep in the snow. The horses were quite unable to progress, sinking to their bellies, so no start was made.

We shifted our tent and re-spread it on new snow well trampled down. This brief respite from our sleeping-bags freed our cramped limbs. Weather improved and we did not find it necessary after all to get back into our bags, for it was still warm and quite pleasant sitting in the tent.

What a sight the camp had presented before we started digging out. The ponies like drowned rats, their manes and tails dank and dripping, a saturated blotting-paper look about their green horse cloths, eyes half closed, mouths flabby and wet, each animal half buried in this Antarctic mora.s.s, the old snow walls like sand dunes after a storm.

The green tents just peeping through the snow, mottled and beaten in, as it were, all sledges well under, except for here and there a red paraffin oil tin and the corner of an instrument box peeping out. Our ski-sticks and ski alone stood up above it all, and those sleeping-bags, ugh--rightly the place was christened "Shambles Camp."

On December 9 the blizzard was really over; we completed the digging out of sledges and stores and wallowed sometimes thigh-deep whilst getting the ponies out of their snow-drifted shelters. Then we faced probably the hardest physical test we had had since the bailing out in the great gale a year ago. We had breakfast and got away somewhere about 8 a.m. My party helped the pony sledges to get away for a mile or two; the poor brutes had a fearful struggle, and so did we in the man-hauling team. We panted and sweated alongside the sledges, and when at last Captain Scott sent us back to bring up our own sledge and tent we were quite done. Arrived at the Shambles Camp we cooked a little tea, and then wearily hauled our sledge for hour after hour until we came up with the Boss, dead cooked--we had struggled and wallowed for nearly 15 hours. The others had certainly an easier time but a far sadder time, for, they had to coax the exhausted ponies along and watch their sufferings, knowing that they must kill the little creatures on halting.

Oh, Lord--what a day we had of it. Fortunately we man-haulers missed the "slaughter of the innocents," as some one termed the pony killing. When we got to the stopping place all five ponies had been shot and cut up for dog and man food.

This concluded our Barrier march: the last was tragic enough in its disappointment, but one felt proud to be included in such a party, and none, of us survivors can forget the splendid efforts of the last five ponies.

Meantime Roald Amundsen had a gale in Lat. 87-88 degrees on December 5, with falling and drifting snow, yet not too bad to stop his party travelling: he was 11,000 feet above our level at this time and covering 25 miles a day. He also experienced thick weather but light wind on the 7th December and on the day of our sorrowful march he was scuttling along beyond Shackleton's farthest South, indeed close upon the 89th Parallel.

It is just as well we did not know it too.

CHAPTER XIV

ON THE BEARDMORE GLACIER AND BEYOND

Probably no part of the Southern journey was enjoyed more thoroughly than that stage which embraced the ascent of the Beardmore Glacier. Those who survive it can only have refreshing reminiscences of this bright chapter in our great sledge excursion. Scientifically it was by far the most interesting portion travelled over, and to the non-scientific it presented something interesting every day, if only in the shape, colour, and size of the fringing rocks and mountains--a vast relief from the monotony of the Barrier travel.

First we had Mount Hope at the lower end of the Glacier. Mount Hope is a nunatak of granite, about 2800 feet in height, of which the summit is strewn with erratics, giving evidence of former glaciation of far greater extent.

This was the first land we had pa.s.sed close to since leaving Hut Point six weeks previously, and now we had roughly 150 miles of travelling, with something to look at, some relief for the eyes to rest on in place of that dazzling white expanse of Barrier ice, with its glitter and sparkle, so tiring to the eyes. We knew that we must expect creva.s.ses now, hidden and bare, and we also knew that we must every day rise our camps until we reached the plateau summit in 10,000 feet. The Beardmore itself is about 120 miles in length and from 10 to 30 miles wide. We had no geologist with us, but specimens have been collected by Shackleton's people, and our own members, particularly Scott's Polar sledge party, which are sufficient to give a history of this part of Antarctica.

December 10 showed our party on to the Glacier, but we were not "out of the wood" by this date. For we had some hard graft marching up the steep incline called by Shackleton the Southern Gateway. We had made a depot of three ten-foot sledges in good condition to be used for the homeward journey over the Barrier by each returning unit--realising that the descent of the Glacier would knock our sledges about and most likely break them up to some extent.

We were now organised into three teams of four, pulling 170 lb. per man, and in this formation we made the advance up the Glacier.

The teams were as follows:

1.--Scott. 2.--Evans (Lieut.) 3.--Bowers.

Wilson. Atkinson. Cherry-Garrard Oates. Wright. Crean.

Evans (Seaman). Lashly. Keohane.

With us we kept the dog teams pulling 600 lb. of our own weights and the 200 lb. gross for placing in the Lower Glacier Depot.

Soft snow made the dragging very heavy, and in the afternoon, working on ski, I am sorry to say my party dropped astern and got into camp an hour late--it could not be helped, we had borne the brunt of the hard work; Lashly and I had man-hauled daily for five weeks, and Atkinson and Wright for some time also. I had a long talk next morning after breakfast with Captain Scott. He was disappointed with our inability to keep up with the speed of the main party, but I pointed out that we could not expect to do the same as fresh men--the other eight had only put on the sledge harness for the first time on December 10: Scott agreed, but seemed worried and fretful. However that may be, we got into the lunch camp first of the three sledges, to have our short-lived triumph turned to disaster by a very poor show after the meal--Scott was much disappointed and dissatisfied: he appeared to think Atkinson was done; Wilson said Wright was played out and Lashly tired. They both seemed to think I was all right, but all the same I felt that my unit had been called on to do more than its share and was suffering as a natural consequence. The depot was built in a conspicuous position, and this done, Meares's work ended. He and Dimitri came along with us for a while and then turned back for a long, lonely run over the inhospitable Barrier.

To help us Meares and the Russian dog-boy had travelled farther South than their return rations allowed for, and for the 450 mile Northward march to Cape Evans the two of them went short one meal a day rather than deplete the depots. It is a dreadful thing on an Antarctic sledge journey to forfeit a whole meal daily, and Meares's generosity should not be forgotten.

The advance of Scott's men up the Beardmore was r.e.t.a.r.ded considerably by the deep, wet snow which had acc.u.mulated in the lower reaches of the Glacier.

Panting and sweating we could only make 4 mile marches until the 13th December, and even then the soft snow was 18 inches deep. On the 14th we made a good 9 miles, but only by dint of our utmost efforts--we worked on ski, and I tremble to think what we should have done here without them.

The aneroids gave us a rise of about 500 feet a day. Things were improving now, and on December 15 we pa.s.sed the 84 degree parallel--about this time we succeeded in covering 9 to 10 miles daily, and to do this we marched that same number of hours. A good deal of snow covering the mountain ranges, but some remarkable outcrops of rock to vary the scenery. The temperature was very high, and we were punished severely on this account, for the snow was like beef dripping, and we flopped about in it and hove our sledges along with no glide whatever to help us move forward. Such panting, puffing, and sweating, but all in good humour and bent on doing our best. Snowing hard in the latter part of the afternoon just as the surface was improving--we were forced to camp before the proper time on this account. On camping we calculated that we were 2500 feet above the Barrier, the surface promising better things, for there was hard blue ice six inches from the surface, and the snow itself was fairly close-packed and good for ski.

On December 16 we were out of our sleeping bags at 5 and we were under way by 7 a.m., marching till noon, when we lunched and took sights and angles. The surface remained fairly good until 2 p.m., when it took an unaccountable turn for the worse. We covered 12 miles.

Several of us dropped a leg down creva.s.ses here and there, nothing alarming. We reached 3000 feet alt.i.tude, and the day ended in the most perfect weather. For the first time since leaving Corner Camp we felt that our ration was sufficient; we had now commenced the "Summit ration,"

which contained considerable extra fats. Snow-blindness caused trouble here and there, due princ.i.p.ally to our removing our goggles when they clouded up--due to sweating so much in the high temperature. The goggles, which Wilson was responsible for, served excellently. Yellow and orange gla.s.ses were popular, but some preferred green. As we progressed and our eyes had to be used for long periods without gla.s.ses for clearing creva.s.ses, etc., we found that a double gla.s.s acted best, and used this whenever the going was easy and goggles could be used.

The contrast between the goggled and the ungoggled state was extraordinary--when one lifted one's orange-tinted snow gla.s.ses it was to find a blaze of light that could scarcely be endured. Snow-blindness gave one much the same sensations as those experienced by standing over a smoking bonfire keeping eyes open.

Sunday, December 17, differed from the preceding days, for we got into huge pressure ridges--we hauled our sledges up these and tobogganed down the other sides, progressing half the forenoon thus. We wore our excellent crampons and made lighter work of our loads than we had done since facing the Beardmore, and now that the summer season was well advanced the surface snow on the Glacier had mostly disappeared through the effects of the all day sun added to the early summer winds. The clouding of our goggles made the creva.s.ses more difficult to spot, and one or other of the party got legs or feet down pretty often.

This and the following day were precursors to good marches and easy times. We made the Mid-Glacier Depot in Lat.i.tude 84 degrees 33 minutes 6 seconds S., Longitude 169 degrees 22 minutes 2 seconds E., and set therein one half-week's provision. We marked the depot cairn with bamboo and red flag to show up against the ice as well as to contrast with the land. Hitherto only black flags had been employed to mark depots.

The weather and surface were both in our favour at last. It was sunny, warm, and clear now, and there was nothing to impede us. Wilson did a large amount of sketching on the Beardmore--his sketches, besides being wonderful works of art, helped us very much in our surveys.

Fringing the great glittering river of ice were dark granite and dolerite hills, some were snow-clad and some quite bare, for their steepness resisted the white cloak of this freezing clime. The new hills were surveyed, headlands plotted, and names bestowed where Shackleton had not already done so. Of course we had Shackleton's charts, diaries, and experience to help us. We often discussed Shackleton's journey, and were amazed at his fine performance. We always had full rations, which Shackleton's party never enjoyed at this stage. After December 17 our marches worked up from 13 to 23 miles a day.

Shackleton bestowed the name of Queen Alexandra Range on the huge mountains to the westward of the Beardmore.

The most conspicuous is the "Cloudmaker," which he gives as 9.971--I like the 1 foot when heights are so hard to determine hereabouts! To the three secondary ranges, on the S.W. extreme of the Beardmore, nearly in 85 degrees, he gave the names Adams, Marshall, and Wild, after his three companions on the farthest South march. To get into one's head what we had to look at on the upper half of the Beardmore, imagine a moderate straight slope: this is the Glacier like a giant road, white except where the sun has melted the snow and bared the blue ice. Looking up the Glacier an overhang of ice-falls and disturbances, with three nunataks or mountains sticking through the ice-sheet like islands--the disturbance is mostly to the left (Eastwards) of these, and the road here looks cruelly steep even where it is not broken up. Down the Glacier the great white way is broken here and there where tributary glaciers join it, and above the Cloudmaker the glacier is cut up badly in several places, how badly we were not to know until the middle of January, 1912--but of that more anon. To the left (S.E.) a great broad river of ice, the Mill Glacier, and so on.

The land is extraordinary--gigantic snow drifts like huge waves breaking against a stone pier beset the lower cliff faces and steeper slopes, then dark red-brown rock carved by glaciers long since vanished, and above this rocky bands of limestone, sandstone; and dolerite. Some rocky talus showing through the big snow drifts, and in some cases talus alone.

From my letter to be taken by the next homeward party in case I missed the ship:

"The Wild range is extraordinary in its curious stratification, and one feels when gazing at it some-thing of a wish to scramble along the crests, if only to feel land underfoot instead of ice, ice, ice.

"The prevailing colours here are blacks, grays, reds, like the cliffs at Teignmouth and Exmouth, and another more chocolate red. Then the whites in all kind of shade--fancy different shades of white, but there are here any amount of them, and a certain sparkle of blue ice down the Glacier where the sun is shining on it that reminds one of a tropical sea. Except when marching we don't spend much time out of our tents, but I take a breather now and again when surveying, and then I sit on a sledge-box and wonder what is in store for us and where all this will lead us. Amundsen has certainty not come this way, although dogs could work here easily enough."

On December 20 Scott came into our tent after supper and told us that the first return party would be Atkinson (in charge), Wright, Cherry-Garrard, and Keohane, and that they would turn back after the next day's march.

We were all very sad, but each one thus detailed loyally abided by the decision of our chief. I worked till nearly midnight getting out copy of route and bearings for Wright to navigate back on.

Here is a specimen page of my diary:

"_December_ 21.

"Out at 5.45 a.m. and away at 8. Had a very heavy pull up steep slope close to S.E. point of Buckley Island. Pa.s.sed over many creva.s.ses and dropped into some. Once I fell right down in a bottomless chasm to the length of my harness. I was pulled out by the others, Bowers and Cherry helping with their Alpine rope. Not hurt but amused. All of us dropped often to our waists and Atkinson completely disappeared once, but we got him out. We got into a very bad place at noon, and a fog coming on had to stop and lunch as one could not see far. This has been our worst day for creva.s.ses up to now, some of them are 100 feet across, but well bridged.

"It was very cold, with a sharp southerly wind when we started, but later on got quite warm. We rose 1130 feet in the forenoon and made 5 miles 1565 yards up to lunch. We started again at 3 o'clock, and the fog lifting, we made a good march for the day: 11 miles 200 yards geographical (Stat. 12 miles 1388 yards). In the afternoon we had a very heavy drag and did not camp till 7.30 p.m., about 4 miles S. 30 degrees W. of Mount Darwin (summit), Lat.i.tude 85 degrees 7 minutes S., Longitude 163 degrees 4 minutes E.

"Our height above the Barrier is 7750 feet by aneroid.

"Had a fine hoosh with a full pannikin of pony meat added to celebrate our 'De-tenting,' which takes place to-morrow morning. We make a depot here with half a week's provision for two parties."