The Commander of the Expedition

SHACKLETON
IN THE ANTARCTIC
BEING THE STORY OF THE BRITISH
ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION, 1907-1909

BY SIR ERNEST SHACKLETON
C.V.O.

LONDON
WILLIAM HEINEMANN
MCMXI

SHACKLETON IN THE ANTARCTIC
ADAPTED FROM
THE HEART OF THE ANTARCTIC
First published (Two Volumes) November 1909
Popular Edition ( One Volume) November 1910

Copyright London 1909, by William Heinemann, and
Washington, U.S.A., by J. B. Lippincott Company

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER I
THE EXPEDITION

Men go out into the void spaces of the world for various reasons. Some are incited simply by a love of adventure, some have a keen thirst for scientific knowledge, and others are drawn away from trodden paths by the mysterious fascination of the unknown. I think that in my own case it was a combination of these factors that determined me to try my fortune once again in the frozen south.

I had been invalided home before the conclusion of the Discovery expedition, and I had the keenest desire to see more of the vast continent that lies amid the Antarctic snows and glaciers. Indeed the stark polar lands grip the hearts of men who have lived on them in a manner that can hardly be understood by people who have never got outside the pale of civilisation. I was convinced, moreover, that an expedition on the lines I had in view could justify itself by the results of its scientific work.

The Discovery expedition had performed splendid service in several important branches of science, and I believed that a second expedition could carry the work still further. For instance, the southern limits of the Great Ice Barrier had not been defined, and it was important to the scientific world that information should be gained regarding the movement of the ice-sheet that forms the barrier. I also wanted to discover what lay beyond the mountains to the south of latitude 82° 17′ and whether the Antarctic continent rose to a plateau similar to the one found by Captain Scott beyond the western mountains.

There was much also to be done in the fields of meteorology, zoology, biology, mineralogy and general geology, so much in fact that apart from the wish to gain a higher latitude the expedition seemed to be justified on scientific grounds alone.

The difficulty that confronts most men who wish to undertake exploration work is that of finance, and for some time I was faced by financial problems; but when the governments of Australia and New Zealand came to my assistance, the position became more satisfactory.

In the Geographical Journal for March 1907, I outlined my plan of campaign, but this had materially to be changed later on owing to circumstances. "The shore-party of nine or twelve men will winter with sufficient equipment to enable three separate parties to start out in the spring," I announced. "One party will go east, and, if possible, across the Barrier to the new land known as King Edward VII Land, the second party will proceed south over the same route as that of the southern sledge-party of the Discovery, the third party will possibly proceed westward over the mountains, and, instead of crossing in a line due west, will strike towards the magnetic pole. The main changes in equipment will be that Siberian ponies will be taken for the sledge journeys both east and south, and also a specially designed motor-car for the southern journey. I do not intend to sacrifice the scientific utility of the expedition to a mere record-breaking journey, but say frankly, all the same, that one of my great efforts will be to reach the southern geographical pole."

Section, showing Interior of "Nimrod"
1. Forecastle. 2. Stores. 3. Chain locker. 4. Fore hold. 5. Lower hold. 6. Stoke hold. 7. Carpenters' shop. 8. Cook's Galley. 9. Engine room. 10. Engine room. 11. Boiler. 12. After hold. 13. Lower hold. 14. After bridge. 15. Officer's quarters. 16 Captain's quarters. 17. Oyster alley. (See page 19.)

My intention was that the expedition should leave New Zealand at the beginning of 1908, and proceed to winter quarters on the Antarctic continent, the ship to land men and stores and then return. By avoiding the ship being frozen in, the use of a relief ship would be unnecessary, as the same vessel could come south again the following summer and take us off.

Before we finally left England I had decided that if possible I would establish my base on King Edward VII Land instead of at the Discovery winter quarters in McMurdo Sound, so that we might break entirely new ground. The narrative will show how, as far as this particular matter was concerned, my plans were upset by the demands of the situation. Owing largely to the unexpected loss of ponies before the winter, the journey to King Edward VII Land over the Barrier was not attempted.

As the expedition was entirely my own venture I decided that I would have no committee, and thus I avoided delays that are inevitable when a group of men have to arrive at a decision on points of detail. The aim of one who undertakes to organise such an expedition must be to provide for every contingency, and in dealing with this Work I was fortunate enough to secure the assistance of Mr. Alfred Reid, who had already gained considerable experience in connection with previous polar ventures, and who—as manager of the expedition—was invaluable to me.

CHAPTER II
I—SUPPLIES

For a polar expedition the food must in the first place be wholesome and nourishing in the highest possible degree. Scurvy—that dread disease—was once regarded as the inevitable result of a prolonged stay in ice-bound regions, but by selecting food-stuffs which had been prepared on scientific lines we entirely avoided any sickness attributable directly or indirectly to the foods we took with us.

In the second place the food taken on the sledging expeditions must be as light as possible, always remembering that in very low temperatures the heat of the body can be maintained only by use of fatty and farinaceous foods in fairly large quantities. The sledging-foods must also be such as do not require prolonged cooking, for the amount of fuel that can be carried is limited. It must even be possible to eat these foods without any cooking, because the fuel may be lost or exhausted.

As regards foods for use at the winter quarters of the expedition a greater variety was possible, for the ship might be expected to reach that point and weight was consequently of less importance. My aim was to get a large variety of foods for the winter night, when the long months of darkness severely strain men unaccustomed to the conditions.

I based my estimates on the requirements of twelve men for two years, but this was added to in New Zealand when the staff was increased.

At first the question of packing presented difficulties, but at last I decided to use "Venesta" cases both for food-stuffs and as much as possible for equipment. These cases are manufactured from composite boards prepared by uniting three layers of birch or other hard wood with water-proof cement. They were eminently suited to our purpose, and the saving of weight, as compared with an ordinary packing-case, was about four pounds per case. In spite of the rough handling our stores received in the process of being landed at Cape Royds, after the expedition had reached the Antarctic we had no trouble with breakages.

II—EQUIPMENT

After placing orders for the principal food supplies I went to Norway with Mr. Reid to secure sledges, fur boots and mits, sleeping bags, ski, &c. The sledges were to be of the Nansen pattern, built of specially selected timber and of the best workmanship. I ordered ten twelve-foot sledges, eighteen eleven-foot sledges and two seven-foot sledges, the largest being suitable for pony-haulage. The sledges were made by Messrs. Hagen and Company of Christiania and proved to be all that I desired.

The next step was to secure furs, but this was not a very large order as after the experience of the Discovery expedition I decided to use fur only for the feet and hands and for the sleeping-bags, relying otherwise on woollen garments with an outer covering of windproof material. I ordered three large sleeping-bags, to hold three men each, and twelve one-man bags. Each bag had the reindeer fur inside, and the seams were covered with leather strongly sewn.

Seal suckling Young, and taking no Notice of the Motor-car

The foot-gear I ordered consisted of eighty pairs of ordinary finnesko or reindeer-fur boots, twelve pairs of special finnesko and sixty pairs of ski boots of various sizes. The ordinary finnesko is made from the skin of the reindeer stag's head, with the fur outside, and its shape is roughly that of a very large boot without any laces. It is large enough to hold the foot, several pairs of socks, and a supply of sennegrass, and it is a wonderfully warm and comfortable foot-gear. This sennegrass is a dried grass of long fibre with a special quality of absorbing moisture and I bought fifty kilos (110.25 lb.) of it in Norway.

The sixty pairs of wolfskin and dogskin mits which I ordered from Mr. Möller were made with the fur outside, were long enough to protect the wrists, and had one compartment for the four fingers and another for the thumb. They were worn over woollen gloves and were hung round the neck with lamp-wick when the use of the fingers was required.

CHAPTER III
THE SHIP, THE HUT AND OTHER NECESSITIES

Before I left Norway I visited Sandyfjord to see whether I could come to terms with Mr. C. Christiansen, the owner of the Bjorn, a ship specially built for polar work; but much as I wished to try her I could not afford to pay the price.

So when I returned to London I purchased the Nimrod. She was small and old, and her maximum speed under steam was hardly more than six knots, but on the other hand she was able to face rough treatment in the ice. I confess that I was disappointed when I first examined the little ship, to which I was about to commit the hopes and aspirations of many years, but I had not then become acquainted with her many good qualities, and my first impression scarcely did justice to the plucky old ship. She was at once put into the hands of Messrs. R. & H. Green of Blackwall, the famous firm that had built so many of Britain's "wooden walls," and that had done fitting and repairing work for several other polar expeditions, and day by day she assumed a more satisfactory appearance. Quarters were provided for the scientific staff of the expedition by enclosing a portion of the after-hold and constructing cabins which were entered by a steep ladder from the deck-house. For some reason not on record these small quarters were known later as "Oyster Alley."

As however the Nimrod, after landing the shore-party with stores and equipment, would return to New Zealand, it was necessary that we should have a reliable hut in which to live during the Antarctic night, and until the sledging journeys began in the following spring.

THE HUT

I ordered a hut (which was to be our only refuge from furious blizzards) measuring externally 33 ft. by 19 ft. by 8 ft. to the eaves from Messrs. Humphreys of Knightsbridge. It was specially constructed to my order, and after being erected and inspected in London was shipped in sections.

It was made of stout fir timbering of best quality in walls, roofs and floors, and the parts were all morticed and tenoned to make erection easy in the Antarctic. Great precautions were taken against the extreme cold, and the hut was to be erected on wooden piles let into the ground or ice, and rings were fixed to the top of the roof so that guy-ropes might be used to give additional resistance to the gales. The hut had two doors, connected by a small porch, so that ingress or egress would not cause a draught of cold air, and the windows were double so that the warmth of the hut might be retained. We took little furniture as I proposed to use cases for the construction of benches, beds, and other necessary articles of internal equipment. The hut was to be lighted with acetylene gas, and we took a generator, the necessary piping and a supply of carbide.

We also took a cooking-range, manufactured by Messrs. Smith and Wellstrood, of London, which had a fire chamber designed to burn anthracite coal continuously day and night.

CLOTHING

Each member of the expedition was supplied with two winter suits made of heavy blue pilot cloth, lined with Jaeger fleece. An outer suit of windproof material is necessary in the polar regions, and I secured twenty-four suits of Burberry gabardine. The underclothing was obtained from the Dr. Jaeger Sanitary Woollen Company.

PONIES, DOGS, AND MOTOR-CAR

I decided to take ponies, dogs, and a car to assist in hauling our sledges on long journeys, but my hopes were mainly based on the ponies. Dogs had not proved satisfactory on the Barrier surface, but I was sure that the hardy ponies used in Northern China and Manchuria would be useful if landed in good condition on the ice. They had done good work both on the Jackson-Harmsworth expedition and in the Russo-Japanese War. Fifteen of these ponies, practically unbroken and about fourteen hands high, were selected and ultimately transferred to Quail Island in Port Lyttelton, where they were free to feed in luxury until they were required.

Their Majesties King Edward and Queen Alexandra inspecting the Equipment on the "Nimrod" at Cowes, (See page 26)

As I thought it possible, from my previous experience, that we might find a hard surface on the Great Ice Barrier, I resolved to take a motor-car, so I selected a 12-15 horse-power New Arrol-Johnston car, fitted with a specially designed air-cooled four-cylinder engine and Simms Bosch magneto ignition. A non-freezing oil was prepared for me by Messrs. Price and Company. I placed, as I have suggested, but small reliance on dogs; I did however order forty of the descendants of the Siberian dogs used on the Newnes-Borchgrevink expedition. The breeder was only able to let me have nine, but this team proved sufficient for my purposes.

SCIENTIFIC INSTRUMENTS

On the scientific side the equipment of a polar expedition is very costly, and I felt the pinch of necessary economies in this branch. I was, however, greatly assisted by loans of instruments and charts from the Admiralty; the Royal Geographical Society lent me three chronometer watches, and three wardens of the Skinners' Company gave me one chronometer watch which accompanied me on my journey to the Pole and which proved to be the most accurate of all. We also took with us a photographic equipment which included nine cameras, and a cinematograph machine in order that we might place on record the curious movements of seals and penguins.

For the rest I had tried to provide for every contingency, and the gear ranged from needles and nails to a Remington typewriter and two Singer sewing machines. There was also a gramophone and a complete printing-press; and even hockey-sticks and a football were not forgotten.

CHAPTER IV
THE STAFF AND THE ROYAL VISIT

It was no easy matter for me to select the staff from the large number (over 400) of applicants who wished to join the expedition.

After much consideration I selected eleven men for the shore-party, only three of whom—Adams, Wild and Joyce—had been known to me previously, while only Wild and Joyce, having been members of the Discovery expedition, had previous experience of polar work. Every man, however, was highly recommended, and this was also the case with the officers whom I chose for the Nimrod. Before leaving New Zealand I was able to increase the number of the expedition, which ultimately consisted of:

THE SHORE-PARTY

Ernest H. Shackleton, Commander.
Professor T. W. Edgeworth David, F.R.S., Director of the scientific staff.
Lieutenant J. B. Adams, R.N.R., Meteorologist.
Sir Philip Brocklehurst, Bart., Assistant geologist.
Bernard Day, Motor expert.
Ernest Joyce, in charge of dogs, sledges, &c.
Dr. A. F. Mackay, Surgeon.
Douglas Mawson, D.Sc., B.E., Physicist.
Bertram Armytage, in charge of ponies.
Dr. E. Marshall, Surgeon, cartographer.
G. E. Marston, Artist.
J. Murray, Biologist.
Raymond Priestley, Geologist.
W. Roberts, Cook.
F. Wild, in charge of provisions.

THE SHIP'S STAFF

Lieutenant R. G. England, R.N.R., Captain.
John K. Davis, Chief officer, later captain.
A. L. A. Mackintosh, Second officer.
A. E. Harbord, Auxiliary second officer.
H. J. L. Dunlop, Chief engineer.
W. A. R. Michell, Surgeon.
Alfred Cheetham, Third officer and boatswain.
W. D. Ansell, Steward.
J. Montague, Cook.
E. Ellis }
H. Bull }
S. Riches } A.B.'s.
J. Paton }
W. Williams }
G. Bilsby, Carpenter.
[Lieutenant F. P. Evans, R.N.R., was appointed
captain for the second voyage to the Antarctic.]

The work of preparation progressed rapidly, and on July 30, 1907, the Nimrod sailed from the East India Docks on the first stage of the long journey to New Zealand. On the following day Mr. Reid received a telegram from the King's equerry, commanding the Nimrod to visit Cowes in order that the King and Queen might inspect the ship on August 4, and consequently we proceeded to the Solent, where we anchored.

The Towing Steamer "Koonya" as seen from the "Nimrod" in a heavy sea. This particular wave came aboard the "Nimrod" and did considerable damage. (See page 31)

ROYAL VISIT TO THE NIMROD

Their Majesties King Edward and Queen Alexandra, their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales, the Princess Victoria, Prince Edward and the Duke of Connaught, came on board and inspected the ship, an honour which was greatly appreciated by the members of the expedition. Her Majesty graciously entrusted me with a Union Jack to be carried on the southern journey, and His Majesty graciously conferred on me the Victorian Order.

On Wednesday August 7, the ship sailed for New Zealand, and arrived at Lyttelton—from whence the final departure for the south was to be made—on November 23. Mr. Reid reached Australian waters a month ahead of the Nimrod, so that he might make necessary arrangements and meet the Manchurian ponies.

CHAPTER V
WE LEAVE LYTTELTON

By strenuous labour we were in readiness to start from Lyttelton on New Year's Day, and we were honoured by the Postmaster-General of the Dominion printing off for us a small issue of special stamps, and making me a postmaster during my stay in the Antarctic.

The quarters of the scientific staff on board the Nimrod were certainly small, and as the day of departure approached, Oyster Alley reached a state of congestion awful to contemplate. The ponies—of which we finally took away ten known as "Socks," "Queen," "Grisi," "Chinaman," "Billy," "Zulu," "Doctor," "Sandy," "Nimrod," and "Mac"—were carried on deck and ten stout stalls were built for them. The motor-car was enclosed in a large case and made fast with chains on the after-hatch whence it could be transferred easily to the ice. Our deck load, indeed, was so heavy that the Nimrod was low in the water, and when we left Lyttelton the little ship had only three feet six inches of freeboard.

In order to save coal I was anxious to have the Nimrod towed south, and the Government of the Dominion agreed to pay half the cost of the tow, and Sir James Mills, chairman of the Union Steamship Company, offered to pay the other half. The Koonya, a steel-built steamer of about 1100 tons, was chartered and placed under the command of Captain F. P. Evans. The wisdom of this selection was proved by subsequent events. Before my departure I placed the conduct of the affairs of the expedition in New Zealand into the hands of Mr. J. J. Kinsey, whose assistance and advice had already been of great service to me.

January 1, 1908, arrived at last, a warm and clear morning for our last day in civilisation. Before sunset we were to sever all ties with the outer world, but we all looked forward eagerly to our coming venture, for the glamour of the unknown was with us and the south was calling.

All day long the deck of our little vessel was thronged by sight-seers, who showed the greatest interest in everything connected with the ship and her equipment. There were many whose criticisms were frankly pessimistic as to our chances of weathering an Antarctic gale, for the Nimrod was deep in the water, but we, having confidence in the ship, were not disturbed by these criticisms.

Oyster Alley was crammed with the personal belongings of at least fourteen of the shore-party, and if you once got into it the difficulty of getting out was even greater. The entrance to this twentieth-century Black Hole was through a narrow doorway and down a ladder, which ushered one into almost complete darkness. And it was in this uncomfortable, crowded, murky place that the spirit of romance grew strong in the heart of George Buckley, until he suddenly jumped up and asked if I would take him as far as the ice. I was only too glad to consent, for his interest in the expedition showed that his heart was in the right place, and his personality had already appealed to us all. It was then 2 P.M. and the Nimrod sailed at 4 P.M., but in those two hours he dashed to Christchurch, gave his power of attorney to a friend, slung a tooth-brush and some underclothing into a bag, and arrived on board a few minutes before sailing time, equipped for the most rigorous weather in the world with only the summer suit he was wearing. Surely a record in the way of joining a polar expedition!

Cheer after cheer broke from the watching thousands as we moved towards the harbour entrance, and after a most cordial send-off we stopped to pick up our tow-line from the Koonya; and this operation being completed we signalled the Koonya to go ahead and were soon in the open sea.

Fortunately we did not know that we were not to take our clothes off for the next two weeks, and that we were to live in a constant state of wetness and watchfulness until we arrived in the neighbourhood of winter quarters. But bad weather was not long delayed, and I was soon wishing for the splendid modern gear of the Discovery, the large, specially built vessel that we had on the previous expedition.

View of the Great Ice Barrier

As the wind and sea increased the Nimrod pitched about, shifting everything that could be moved on deck. The seas began to break over her, and we were soon wet through, not to be properly dry again for many days. Our chief anxiety was the care of the ponies, and looking back now to those days, it remains wonderful to me how they survived the hardships that fell to their lot.

The Nimrod had—owing to her deeply loaded condition—begun the voyage like a reluctant child being dragged to school, but as the gale increased in vehemence she seemed to throw off the sluggishness which possessed her, when she had found herself outward bound at the end of a tow-line for the first time in her strenuous life of forty years. Now that the tow-line was but little use—save to steady us in the furious gale—the Nimrod began to play her own hand, and marvellously well did she play it. So furiously did the gale blow that on the morning of the 5th I told Captain England to signal and ask the Koonya to pour oil on the water, but although this helped us to a certain extent it did not prevent the heaviest seas from breaking on board. The Nimrod rolled over fifty degrees from the perpendicular to each side; how much more than that I cannot say for the indicator was only marked up to fifty degrees, and the pointer had passed that mark. Under these circumstances it was but natural that the sturdy ponies had their strength taxed to the utmost to keep their footing. It was impossible to sling them, for they were only half-broken, and an attempt to put a sling under one nearly drove it crazy with fright. On the night of the 5th during an extra heavy roll one of the ponies slipped, and when the ship rolled the opposite way it turned right over on its back and could not regain its footing. All our attempts to get "Doctor," as he was called, upon his legs failed, and regretfully I had to order him to be shot.

CHAPTER VI
THE ANTARCTIC CIRCLE

The continuous bad weather was attributed by some on board to the fact that we had captured an albatross on the second day out. It is generally supposed by seamen to be unlucky to kill this bird, but as we did it for the purposes of scientific collections and not with the wantonness of the "Ancient Mariner," the superstitious must seek another reason for the bad weather.

The storm increased until, by midnight on the 6th, the squalls were of hurricane force, and the morning of the 7th brought no relief. Seas came on board with more frequency than ever, finding out any odd article that had escaped our vigilance. At one time a sack of potatoes was washed on to the deck and the contents were floating in two or three feet of water, but standing on the poop I heard one of the crew, in no way disheartened, singing, as he gathered them up, "Here we go gathering nuts in May."

On the evening of January 8, the gale was so terrific that we had to signal to the Koonya to heave to. We did this with the sea on our starboard quarter, and one enormous wave smashed in part of the starboard bulwarks and did much—though happily no vital—damage. The galley was washed out and the fire extinguished, but so pluckily did the members of the cooking department work that never during this most uncomfortable time were we without a warm meal. This was really a great feat considering that the galley was only five feet square, and thirty-nine persons blessed with very hearty appetites had to be provided for.

To show what a state we were in I may mention that in the wardroom I salved a small wooden case from the water, and found that it contained a patent mixture for extinguishing fires!

At noon on January 11 we were in latitude 57° 38′ South, and longitude 178° 39′ West, but the weather, which had moderated for a day or two, again became as bad as ever. We had imagined that we might find difficulty in cleaning out the stables, but the herculean waves settled that difficulty in a most arbitrary and thorough manner.

On the 13th we had a warmer and pleasanter day than any we had experienced since leaving Lyttelton, and the whole vessel began to look like a veritable Petticoat Lane. Pyjamas and pillows of pulp that had once been pillows of feathers, books and boots, coats and carpet-slippers were lying in a mass on the poop deck so that they might dry. A few of us ventured on baths, but in the open air and with the temperature only two degrees above freezing-point it was chilly work.

We were now keeping a sharp look-out for icebergs and pack, and the meeting with the pack-ice was to terminate the Koonya's tow; and that meant parting with Buckley, who had endeared himself to every one on board, and who had been of the greatest assistance in the matter of the ponies.

Next morning, January 14, we sighted our first iceberg. It had all the usual characteristics of the Antarctic bergs, being practically tabular in form, and its sides being of a dead white colour. During the afternoon we passed two more icebergs with their usual tails of brash ice floating out to leeward. The sea had changed colour from a leaden blue to a greenish-grey, albatrosses were not nearly so numerous, and the temperature of the air and water had dropped to 32° Fahr. Everything pointed to our nearness to the pack, and on the next morning we saw the ice looming up through the mist to the southward.

Pushing through heavy Floes in the Ross Sea. The dark line on the Horizon is a "Water Sky," and indicated the Existence of Open Sea

Now had come the time for the Koonya to drop us, after a tow of 1510 miles—a record in towage for a vessel not built for the purpose—and before the Koonya finally cast off from us, she had achieved another record by being the first steel vessel to cross the Antarctic Circle.

About 10 A.M. I decided to send Captain England across to the Koonya with Buckley and the mail, our letters being stamped with the special stamp given by the New Zealand Government. As the sea was rising again we lost no time in making the necessary communication by boat between the two ships, and during a favourable roll the whale-boat was dropped into the water, and Buckley—with his week-end handbag—jumped into her. About a quarter to one Captain Evans signalled that he was going to cut his hawser, for in the rising sea the two vessels were in dangerous proximity to each other.

We saw the axe rise and fall, rise and fall again, and the tie was severed. The Koonya's work was done, and at last the Nimrod was dependent upon her own resources. Our consort steamed round us, all hands on both ships cheering; then her bows were set north and she vanished into a grey, snowy mist, homeward bound. All that afternoon we unremittingly toiled to get in the cable link by link, and by seven o'clock we were able to proceed and to put the ship's head due south.

By 2 A.M. on January 16, the bergs were much more numerous, but none of the ice we passed through at this time had the slightest resemblance to pack-ice. An hour later we entered an area of tabular bergs, varying from 80 to 150 ft. in height, and all the morning we steamed in beautiful weather through the lanes and streets of a wonderful snowy Venice. The magic of such a scene cannot be described. As far as the eye could see, great, white, wall-sided bergs stretched east, west and south, contrasting strikingly with the lanes of blue-black water between them.

A stillness, weird and uncanny, had fallen upon everything. Here there was no sign of life, except when one of the little snow petrels, invisible when flying across the glistening bergs, flashed for a moment into sight. Beautiful as this scene was it gave me some anxiety, for I knew that if we were caught in a breeze amidst this maze of floating ice it would go hard with us. Already an ominous dark cloud was sweeping down from the north, and I was unfeignedly thankful when, in the afternoon, I saw open water ahead. After a few more turnings and twistings we entered the ice-free Ross Sea, this being the first time a passage had been made into that sea without the vessel being held up by pack-ice; and I think our success was due to the fact that we were to the eastward of the pack, which had separated from the land and the Barrier, and had drifted to the north-west. Indeed all my experience goes to prove that the easterly route is the best.

Whence these bergs had come is open to conjecture, but I am certain that this ice had not long left the parent barrier or coast-line, for there was no sign of weathering on the sides. Our latitude at noon on the 16th was 68° 6′ South, and the longitude 179° 21′ West.

Before we entered the actual line of bergs a couple of seals, probably a crabeater and a Weddell seal, appeared on the floe-ice, and a few Adelie penguins were also seen. The quaint walk and insatiable curiosity of these birds greatly amused us, and Marston, our artist, whose sense of the ludicrous is very fully developed, was in ecstasies at their genuine surprise and profound concern when they saw the ship.

It was fortunate that we cleared the ice during that afternoon, for shortly afterwards the wind increased, and the weather thickened with falling snow.

CHAPTER VII
THE ATTEMPT TO REACH KING EDWARD VII LAND

We were now in the Ross Sea, and evidently had avoided the main pack. Our position at noon (Jan. 17) was 70° 43′ South latitude, and 178° 58′ East longitude, and we were steering a little more westerly so as to strike the Barrier well to the east of Barrier Inlet, and also to avoid the heavy pack that previous expeditions had encountered to the east of meridian 160° West. The snow had now become hard and dry, like sago—the true Antarctic type, and numbers of Antarctic petrels circled round and round the ship.

We were now revelling in the indescribable freshness of the Antarctic that seems to permeate one's being, and which must be responsible for that longing to go again which assails each returned explorer from polar regions. On the morning of the 23rd we saw some very large icebergs, which were evidently great masses broken off the Barrier, and we were keeping a sharp look-out for the Barrier itself. The thermometer registered some twelve degrees of frost, but the wind was so dry that we scarcely felt the cold.

Flight of Antarctic Petrels

At 9.30 A.M. on the 23rd a low straight line appeared ahead of the ship. It was the Barrier. After half an hour it disappeared, but by eleven o'clock the straight line stretching east and west was in full view and we rapidly approached it. I had hoped to make the Barrier about the position of what we call the Western Bight, and at noon we could see a point which was obviously the eastern limit of the Western Bight. Soon afterwards we were within a quarter of a mile of the ice-face, and exclamations of wonder at the stupendous bulk of the Barrier were drawn from those who had not seen it before.

Looking at the Barrier from some little distance, one would imagine it to be a perfectly even wall of ice; when steaming along parallel with it, however, the impression it gave was that of a series of points, each of which looked as though it might be the horn of a bay. Then when the ship came abeam of it, one would see that the wall only receded for a few hundred yards, and afterwards new points came into view as the ship moved on. The weather continued fine and calm, and there was absolutely no sign of the strong westerly current along the Barrier which we had always encountered during the voyage of the Discovery.

About midnight we suddenly came to the end of a very high portion of the Barrier, and entered a wide shallow bay which must have been the inlet where Borchgrevink landed in 1900, but it had changed greatly since that time. About half a mile down this bay we reached fast ice. It was about half-past twelve at night, and the southerly sun shone in our faces.

To the east rose a long snow slope which cut the horizon at the height of about 300 ft. It had every appearance of ice-covered land but we could not stop to make certain, for the heavy ice lying to the northward of us was setting down into the bay, and if we were not to be beset it was necessary to get away at once. All round us were numbers of great whales showing their dorsal fins as they occasionally sounded, so we named this playground for these monsters "The Bay of Whales."

As it was impossible to work to the eastward, we struck northwards through an open lead and came south to the Barrier again about 2 A.M. on the 24th. Then we coasted eastward along the wall of ice, always looking out for the inlet. The lashings had been taken off the motor-car, and the tackle rigged to hoist it out directly we got alongside the ice-foot, to which the Discovery had been moored. For in Barrier Inlet we proposed to place our winter quarters.

I had decided on this inlet because I knew that it was practically the beginning of King Edward VII Land, and that the actual bare land was within an easy sledge journey of that place, and it also had the great advantage of being some ninety miles nearer to the South Pole than any other spot that could be reached with the ship. A further important reason was that it would be an easy matter for the ship on its return to reach this part of the Barrier, whereas King Edward VII Land itself might quite possibly be unattainable if the season was adverse.

However the best-laid schemes often prove impracticable in polar exploration, and within a few hours our first plan was found impossible to fulfil, for the very sufficient reason that the inlet had disappeared. Great disappointment as this was to us, we were thankful that the Barrier had broken away before we had made our camp upon it. The thought of what might have happened made me decide then and there that, under no circumstances, would I winter on the Barrier, and that wherever we landed we would secure a solid rock foundation for our winter home.

We had two strings to our bow and I resolved to use the second and push forward towards King Edward VII Land. The ship was headed eastward, again keeping a few hundred yards off the Barrier, for here the cliff was overhung and a fall of ice would assuredly have been disastrous to us. Soon, however, I saw that we could not make much easting in this way, for by 10 A.M. on the 24th we were close to the pack and found that it was pressed hard against the Barrier edge; and, what was worse, the whole of the northern pack and bergs at this spot were drifting in towards the Barrier.

The seriousness of this situation can be realised by the reader if he imagines that he is in a small boat right under the vertical white cliffs of Dover; that detached cliffs are moving in from seaward slowly but surely with resistless power and force, and that it will only be a question of perhaps an hour or two before the two masses come into contact, and crush his tiny craft as they meet.

There was nothing for it but to retrace our steps, and by steaming hard and working in and out of the looser floes, we just managed to pass the point with barely fifty yards of open water to spare between the Barrier and the pack.

I breathed more freely when we passed this zone of Immediate danger, for there were two or three hundred yards of clear water now between us and the pack, and after skirting along the seaward edge we came to the high cliff of ice at the westerly end, and passed safely out of the bay.

"Nimrod" moored off Tabular Bergs. (See page 14)

We then continued to the westward until in the evening the ship's head was put north and we gained a fairly open sea. It is, however, remarkable how limited is one's horizon at sea, for although there appeared to be open water for an indefinite distance we were soon up against rigid ice again. The fact is that low pack-ice is not visible at any great distance, and that one cannot trust an appearance of open water. All night long we tried to penetrate to the east, practically doubling in our tracks before we were able to pursue the direction we wished to follow.

By noon on January 25 I found that any hopes I had of a clear run were vain, and the prospect of reaching King Edward VII Land grew remoter every ensuing hour. Indeed it seemed impossible to reach the land, and the shortness of coal, the leaky condition of the ship, and the necessity of landing all our stores and putting up the hut before the vessel left us, made the situation an extremely anxious one. I had not expected to find Barrier Inlet gone, and, at the same time, the way to King Edward VII Land absolutely blocked by ice, though the latter condition was not unusual.

I decided to continue to try and make a way to the east for at least another twenty-four hours, but when we saw the western pack moving rapidly towards us under the influence of the wind, and that it was most probable that we should be inextricably caught for days or even weeks in this great mass, I reluctantly gave orders to turn the ship and make full speed out of this dangerous situation.

Under the circumstances I could see nothing for it except to steer for McMurdo Sound and there make our winter quarters, though I would greatly have preferred to land at King Edward VII Land, because that region was quite unknown and we could have added greatly to the geographical knowledge of it. However the forces of these uncontrollable ice-packs are stronger than human resolution, and a change of plan was forced upon us.

After more trouble with the ice we worked into clearer water and the course was set for McMurdo Sound, where we arrived on January 29 to find that some twenty miles of frozen ice separated us from Hut Point. I decided to lie off the ice-foot for some days in the hope that Nature might break up the ice intervening between us and our goal.

So far the voyage had been without accident to any of the staff, but unfortunately on the 31st Mackintosh was struck in the right eye by a hook, and the eye had to be removed by Marshall, assisted by the other two doctors, Michell and Mackay. Keenly as Mackintosh felt the loss of his eye, his great sorrow was that he would not be able to remain with us in the Antarctic. He begged to stay, but when Marshall explained that he might lose the sight of his other eye he accepted his ill-fortune without demur.

While waiting at the ice I sent a small party—consisting of Adams, Joyce and Wild—to Hut Point to report on the condition of the hut left there by the Discovery expedition in 1904, and on their return Adams reported that the hut was practically clear of snow and the structure intact.

On February 3 I decided to wait no longer, but to seek for winter quarters on the east coast of Ross Island; so we started toward Cape Barne on the look-out for a suitable landing-place. Steaming slowly north along the coast we saw across the bay a long, low snow slope connected with the bare rock of Cape Royds, which seemed a suitable place for winter-quarters.

About eight o'clock I left the ship in a boat, accompanied by Adams and Wild, and we used the hand-lead at frequent intervals until we came to fast ice. This covered the whole of the small bay from the corner of Flagstaff Point (as we afterwards named the seaward cliff at the southern end of Cape Royds) to Cape Barne to the southward. Close up to the Point the ice had broken out, leaving a little natural dock into which we ran the boat, and hundreds of Adelie penguins greeted Adams and me with hoarse squawks of excitement as we landed. I was soon satisfied that Cape Royds would be an excellent place at which to land our stores, and after taking soundings we pulled out towards the ship which had slowly been coming in. We were pulling along at a good rate when suddenly a heavy body shot out of the water, struck the seaman who was pulling stroke, and dropped with a thud to the bottom of the boat. The arrival was an Adelie penguin, which had doubtless thought it was jumping on to a rock, and it would be difficult to say whether the bird or we were the more astonished.

By 10 P.M. on February 3, the Nimrod was moored to the bay ice, and as soon as she was secured I went ashore accompanied by Professor David, England, and Dunlop, to choose a place for building the hut, and up a small valley we soon found an ideal spot for our winter quarters.

The floor of this valley was almost level and covered with a couple of feet of volcanic earth, and there was room not only for the hut itself, but also for the stores and for a stable for the ponies. A hill behind this valley served as an excellent protection from the prevailing strong south-easterly wind, and a number of seals lying on the bay ice gave promise of a plentiful supply of fresh meat.

Adelie Penguins at Cape Royds. (See page 44)

With this ideal situation and everything else satisfactory, including a supply of water from a lake right in front of our valley, I decided that we had better start to get our gear ashore at once.

CHAPTER VIII
THE LANDING OF STORES AND EQUIPMENT

We now started upon a fortnight full of more checks and worries than I or any other member of the expedition had ever experienced. Nevertheless, in face of most trying conditions, the whole party turned to late and early with whole-hearted devotion and cheerful readiness.

The ponies gave us cause for the most anxiety, because in their half-broken and nervous condition it would have been practically impossible to land them in boats. Finally we decided to build a rough horse-box, get them into this, and then sling it over the side by means of the main gaff. By 3.30 A.M. on the morning of the 6th we had got all the ponies ashore, and they immediately began to paw the snow as they were wont to do in their own far-away Manchurian home.

The poor ponies were naturally stiff after their constant buffetings, but they negotiated the tide-crack all right, and were soon picketed on some bare earth at the entrance to a valley, which lay about fifty yards from the site of our hut. We thought this a good place, but in the future the selection was to cost us dear.

The tide-crack played an important part in connection with the landing of the stores. In the polar regions, both north and south, when the sea is frozen, there always appears between the fast ice, which is the ice attached to the land, and the sea ice, a crack which is due to the sea ice moving up and down with the rise and fall of the tide. When the bottom of the sea slopes gradually from the land, sometimes two or three tide-cracks appear running parallel to each other. When no more tide-cracks can be seen landwards, the ice-foot has always been thought to be permanently joined to the land, and in our case this opinion was strengthened by the fact that our soundings in the tide-crack shoved that the ice-foot on the landward side of it must be aground.

I have explained this fully, for it was only after considering these points that I, for convenience's sake, landed the bulk of the stores below the bare rocks on what I thought was the permanent snow-slope.

On the morning of February 6 we started work with sledges, hauling provisions and pieces of the hut to the shore. On the previous night the foundation posts of the hut had been sunk and frozen into the ground with a cement composed of volcanic earth and water, and the digging of the foundations had proved extremely hard work.

Now that the ponies were ashore it was necessary to have a party living on shore to look after them, and the first shore-party consisted of Adams, Marston, Brocklehurst, Mackay and Murray. Two tents were set up close to the hut, with the usual sledging requisites such as sleeping-bags, cookers, &c. The first things landed this day were fodder for the ponies, and sufficient petroleum and provisions for the shore-party in case the ship had to put suddenly to sea owing to bad weather.

The work of hauling the sledge-loads right up to the land was so heavy, that I decided to let the stores remain on the snow slope beyond the tide-crack, whence they could be taken at leisure. Our attempt to substitute mechanical haulage for man haulage was not successful, and we soon had to go back to our original plan.

Delays at once occurred, for during the afternoon of the 6th a fresh breeze sprung up, and the ship had to stand out to the fast ice in the strait and anchor there. Thus two valuable working days were lost.

When, however, I went ashore again I found that the little shore-party had not only managed to get all the heavy timber that had been landed up to the site of the hut, but also had stacked the cases of provisions, which previously had been lying on the snow slope, upon bare land. While we were engaged on the increasingly difficult task of landing stores, &c., the hut-party were working day and night and the building was rapidly assuming an appearance of solidity. The uprights were in and the brace ties were fastened together, so that if it began to blow there was small fear of the structure being destroyed. This was something to be thankful for, but while the hut-party were getting on so well, we who were engaged on landing the stores had—owing to the breaking away of the ice—to move our spot.

The stores had now to be dragged a distance of nearly three hundred yards from the ship to the landing-place, but this work was made easier by our being able to use four of the ponies. A large amount of stores was landed in this way, but a new and serious situation arose through the breaking away of the main ice-foot. Prudence suggested that it would be wiser to shift the stores already landed to a safer place before discharging any more from the ship, and on this work we were engaged during the evening of the 10th.

The "Nimrod" lying off the Penguin Rookery, Cape Royds

Next we had to find a safer place on which to land the rest of the coal and stores, and Back Door Bay, as we named the chosen spot, became our new depot. This was a still longer journey from the ship, but there was no help for it, and after laying a tarpaulin on the rocks to keep the coal from mixing with the earth, we started landing the coal.

By this time there were several ugly looking cracks in the bay ice, and these kept opening and closing, having a play of seven or eight inches between the floes. We improvised bridges, from the motor-car case, so that the ponies could cross the cracks, and presently were well under way with the work.

Then there was a most alarming occurrence, for suddenly and without the slightest warning the greater part of the bay ice opened out into floes, and the whole mass that had opened started to drift slowly out to sea. The ponies on the ice were at once in a perilous position, but the sailors rushed to loosen the one tied to the stern rope and got it over the first crack, and Armytage also got the pony which he was looking after from the floe nearest the ship on to the next floe.

Just, however, at that moment, Mackay appeared round the corner from Back Door Bay with a third pony attached to an empty sledge, on his way back to the ship to load up. Orders were shouted to him not to come any further, but not at first grasping the situation he continued to advance over the ice, which was already breaking away more rapidly.

When he realised what had occurred he left his sledge and pony, and rushed towards the place where the other two ponies were adrift on the ice, and, by jumping the widening cracks, he reached the moving floe on which they were standing. This piece of ice gradually grew closer to a larger piece, from which the animals would be able to gain a place of safety. But when Mackay started to try to get the pony Chinaman across the crack where it was only six inches wide, the pony took fright, and rearing and backing towards the edge of the floe, which had at that moment opened to a width of a few feet, he fell bodily into the ice-cold water.

It looked indeed as if it was all over with poor Chinaman, but Mackay hung on to the head rope, and Davis, Michell and Mawson rushed to his assistance. After great difficulty a rope sling was passed underneath Chinaman, and he was lifted up far enough to enable him to scramble on to the ice.

A few seconds later the floe closed up against the other one, and it was providential that it had not done so while the pony was in the water, for in that case Chinaman would inevitably have been squeezed to death. As it was he lived to help us very materially on another—and more critical—day. The ship was now employed to push the floe back against the fast ice, and directly this was accomplished the ponies were rushed across and taken straight ashore, and the men who were on the different floes took advantage of the temporary closing of the crack to get themselves and the stores into safety.

As soon as the ship was backed out the loose floes began to drift away to the west, and after this narrow escape I resolved not to risk the ponies on the sea ice again. The breaking of the ice continued to give us great cause for anxiety, and we had a narrow escape from losing our cases of scientific instruments and a large quantity of fodder. Had we lost these cases a great part of our scientific work could not have been carried out, and the loss of the fodder would have meant also the loss of the ponies.

We were handicapped too by such a heavy swell running on the 13th that no stores could be landed. This swell would have been welcome a fortnight before, for it would have broken up a large amount of fast ice to the south, and I could not help thinking that at this date there was open water up to Hut Point. Now, however, it was most unfortunate for us, as precious time was passing, and still more precious coal was being used by the continual working of the ship's engines.

CHAPTER IX
THE NIMROD LEAVES US

As the swell continued during the following day, I signalled England to go to Glacier Tongue and land a depot there. Glacier Tongue lies about eight miles north of Hut Point and about thirteen to the southward of Cape Royds, and by landing a quantity of sledging stores there we should be saved several miles of haulage.

Although we were busy in building the hut, and in one way and another had plenty of employment, I was disappointed at not being able to continue landing the stores until the 16th. And here I should like to mention the cheerful assistance which we always received from the officers and crew of the Nimrod. They had nothing but hard work and discomfort from the beginning of the voyage, and yet they worked splendidly and were invariably in good spirits.

Naturally Captain England was anxious to get the ship away, and also much concerned about the shrinkage of the coal-supply, but it was impossible to let her leave until the wintering party had received their coal from her. The weather was quite fine, and if it had not been for the swell we could have got through a great deal of work.

The Ponies transporting Coal on Sledges at Back Door Bay. (See page 50)

According to our experiences on the last expedition, the latest date to which it would be safe to keep the Nimrod would be the end of February, for the young ice forming about that time on the sound would seriously hamper her from getting clear of the Ross Sea.

On the 17th and 18th we contrived to land a considerable quantity of coal, equipment and stores, but soon after five o'clock on the afternoon of the 18th a furious blizzard was blowing, and the Nimrod stood off from the shore but could make little headway against the terrific wind and short-rising sea.

I was aboard the vessel at the time, and the speed of the gusts must have approached a force of a hundred miles an hour. The tops of the seas were cut off by the wind, and flung over the decks, mast, and rigging of the ship, congealing at once into hard ice, and the sides of the vessel were thick with the frozen sea water.

"The masts were grey with the frozen spray,

And the bows were a coat of mail."

Very soon the cases and sledges lying on deck were hard and fast in a sheet of solid ice, and Harbord, who was the officer on watch, on whistling to call the crew aft, found that the metal whistle stuck to his lips, a painful proof of the low temperature.

The gale raged on for days and nights, and about midnight on the 21st the Nimrod shipped a heavy sea, and all the release-water ports and scupper holes being blocked with ice, the water had no means of exit, and began to freeze on deck, where, already, there was a layer of ice over a foot in thickness. Any more weight like this would have made the ship unmanageable.

As the ropes, already covered with ice, would have frozen into a solid mass, we were forced to take the drastic step of breaking holes in the bulwarks to allow the water to escape; and only by dint of great exertions did Davis and Harbord perform this feat.

It was a sight to see Harbord, held by his legs, hanging over the starboard side of the Nimrod, and wielding a heavy axe; while Davis, whose length of limb enabled him to lean over without being held, did the same on the other. The temperature at the time was several degrees below zero, and the wind was as strong as that which we had experienced in the gales after we had left New Zealand; though the waves were not so huge as those which had the whole run of the Southern Ocean in which to gather strength to buffet us.

At 2 A.M. the weather suddenly cleared, and we were able to discover that in spite of our efforts to keep our position, the wind and current had driven us over thirty miles to the north. As, however, the sea was rapidly decreasing we were at last able to steam straight for Cape Royds.

Arriving ashore early in the morning I rejoiced to see that the hut was still intact, but the report I received as regards the warmth of it was not reassuring, because, in spite of the stove being alight the whole time, no heat was given off. This eccentric conduct of the stove was a grave matter, for on its efficiency depended not only our comfort but our very existence. The shore-party had experienced a terrific gale, and the hut had trembled and shaken so much and so constantly that I doubt if with a less admirable situation we should have had a hut at all after the gale.

On going down to our main landing-place the full effect of the blizzard was apparent, for hardly a sign of the greater part of our stores was to be seen. Such had been the force of the wind blowing straight on to the shore that spray had been flung in sheets over everything, and had been carried by the wind for nearly a quarter of a mile inland. Consequently, in places, our precious stores lay buried to a depth of five or six feet in a mass of frozen sea water.

We feared that it would take weeks of work to get the stores clear of the ice, and also that the salt-water would have damaged the fodder. However there was no time then to do anything to release the stores from the ice, for the most important thing was to get the remainder of coal ashore and send the ship north.

Before 10 P.M. on February 22 the final boatload of coal arrived, and as we had in all only about eighteen tons, the strictest economy would be needed to make this amount spin out until the sledging parties began in the following spring.

We gave our final letters and messages to the crew of the last boat, and said good-bye. And at 10 P.M. the Nimrod's bows were pointed to the north, and she was moving rapidly away from the winter quarters with a fair wind.

We were all devoutly thankful that the landing of the stores had at length been finished and that the state of the sea would no longer be a factor in our work, but it was with something of a pang that we severed our connection with the world of men. We could hope for no word of news from civilisation until the Nimrod came south again in the following summer, and before that we had a good deal of difficult work to do and some risks to face.

Digging out Stores after the Cases had been buried in Ice during a Blizzard. (See page 58)

There was, however, scant time for reflection, even if we had been moved that way, and after a good night's rest we started digging the stores out of the ice, and transporting everything to the vicinity of the hut.

As soon as the stores were in position we hoped to make a start with the scientific observations that were to be an important part of the work of the expedition.

CHAPTER X
WINTER QUARTERS AT CAPE ROYDS OUTSIDE

The next few days were spent in using pick, shovel and iron crowbars on the envelope of ice that covered our cases, corners of which only peeped from the mass.

The whole looked like a huge piece of the sweet known as almond rock, and it was as difficult to get our cases clear of the ice as it is to separate almonds from that sticky conglomerate without injury. In this strenuous labour, however, there was some humour, for Brocklehurst, who took great interest in the recovery of the chocolate, spent his energies in rescuing one particular case which had been covered with ice.

Having rescued it he carried it up to the hut to be sure of its safety, and was greeted with joy by the Professor, who recognised in the load some of his scientific instruments which were playing the part of the cuckoo in an old chocolate box. Needless to say Brocklehurst's joy was not as heartfelt as the Professor's.

We were now using the ponies, and within ten days after the departure of the ship we had practically everything handy to the hut, excepting the coal. Permanently we had not lost very much, but we do know that our one case of beer lies to this day under the ice, and some volumes of the Challenger reports, which had been intended to provide us with useful reading matter during the winter nights, were only dug out a few days before our final departure.

Most of us at one time or another had wounds and bruises to be attended to by Marshall, and the annoying feature of these simple wounds was the length of time it took in our special circumstances for them to heal.

The day after the ship left we laid in a supply of fresh meat for the winter, killing about a hundred penguins and burying them in a snow-drift close to the hut. By February 28 we were practically in a position to feel contented with ourselves, and to explore the neighbourhood of our winter quarters (See sketch, page 61).

From the door of our hut which faced north-west, we had a splendid view of the Sound and the western mountains. Right in front of us lay a small lake which came to be known as Pony Lake, and to the left of that was another sheet of ice that became snow-covered in autumn, and here in the dark months we exercised both the ponies and ourselves.

Six times up and down the "Green Park," as we called it, made a mile, and it was here before darkness fell upon us that we played hockey and football.

To the left of Green Park was a gentle slope leading down between two cliffs to the sea, and ending in a little bay known as Dead Horse Bay, and on either side of this valley lay the penguin rookery.

On coming out of the hut we had only to go round the corner of the building to catch a glimpse of Mount Erebus, which lay directly behind us. Its summit was about fifteen miles from our quarters, but its slopes and foothills began within three-quarters of a mile of the hut.

Our view was cut off from the east to south-west by the ridge at the head of the valley where the hut stood, but on ascending this ridge we looked over the bay to the south-east, where lay Cape Barne. To the right was Flagstaff Point.

There were many localities which became favourite places for walks, and these are shown on the plan (page 61). Sandy Beach was generally the goal of any one taking exercise, when uncertain weather warned us against venturing further, and while the dwindling light allowed us to go so far. Here we sometimes exercised the ponies, and they much enjoyed rolling in the soft sand.

As regards the interest and scenery of our winter quarters we were infinitely better off than the expedition which wintered in McMurdo Sound between 1901 and 1904, and as a field of work for geologists and biologists Cape Royds far surpassed Hut Point. The Professor and Priestley saw open before them a new chapter of geological history, for Murray the lakes were a fruitful field for new research. Adams, the meteorologist, could not complain, for Mount Erebus was in full view of the meteorological station, and this fortunate proximity to Erebus and its smoke-cloud led, in a large measure, to important results in this branch. Mawson made the study of ice part of his work, and from every point of view I must say we were extremely fortunate in the winter quarters to which the state of the ice had led us.

Before we had been ten days ashore the hut was practically completed, though it was over a month before it attained the very fully furnished appearance which it assumed after every one had arranged his belongings. It was not a spacious dwelling for fifteen persons, but if the hut had been larger we should not have been so warm.

Winter Quarters. (See page 59)

At first the coldest part of the house was undoubtedly the floor, which was formed of inch tongue-and-groove: boarding, but was not double-lined. There was a space of about four feet under the hut at one end, and as the other rested almost on the ground it was obvious to us that as long as this space remained we should suffer from the cold. So we decided to make an airlock of the area under the hut, and to this end we built a wall with the bulk of provision cases round the south-east and southerly sides, which were to windward.

On either side of the porch two other buildings were gradually erected. One, built out of biscuit cases, the roof covered with felt and canvas, was a store-room for Wild, who looked after the issue of all food-stuffs. The building on the other side was far more elaborate, and was built by Mawson to serve as a chemical and physical laboratory. It was destined, however, to serve solely as a store-room, for the temperature inside was so nearly the same as that outside, that the moist atmosphere rushing from the hut covered everything inside this store-room with fantastic ice crystals.

The lee side of the hut ultimately became the wall of the stables, for we decided to keep the ponies sheltered for the winter. However the first night they were stabled none of us had much rest, and some of them broke loose and returned to their valley. Shortly afterwards Grisi, one of the most high-spirited of the lot, pushed his head through a window, so the lower halves of the hut windows had to be boarded up.

In a store-room built on the south-east of the hut we kept the tool-chest, the shoe-maker's outfit which was in constant requisition, and any general stores that had to be issued at stated times. But the first blizzard found out this place, and after the roof had been blown off the wall fell down. When the weather was fine again we organised a party to search for such things as mufflers, woollen helmets and so on, and I found a Russian felt boot, weighing five pounds, lying three-quarters of a mile from the crate in which it had been stowed. For the whole of this distance it must have had a clear run in the air, for there was not a scratch on the leather.

The dog kennels were placed close to the porch of the hut, and the meteorological station was on the weather side on the top of a small ridge. Adams was responsible for this, and as readings of the instruments were to be taken day and night at intervals of two hours, and as in thick weather the man trying to go between hut and screen might possibly lose his way, a line was rigged up on posts which were cemented into the ground by ice.

CHAPTER XI
WINTER QUARTERS INSIDE

As regards the inside of the hut the first thing done was to peg out a space for each individual, and we saw that the best plan would be to have the space allotted in sections, allowing two men to share one cubicle. This space for two men amounted to six feet six inches in length and seven feet in depth from the wall of the hut towards the centre.

There were seven of these cubicles, and a space for the leader of the expedition; thus providing for the fifteen who made up the shore party.

One of the most important parts of the interior construction was the dark-room for the photographers, and as we were very short of wood we used cases of bottled fruit to build the walls. The dark-room was built in the left-hand corner of the hut as one entered, and the cases were turned with their lids facing out, so that the contents could be removed without the walls being demolished. The interior of the room was fitted up by Mawson and the Professor, and as Mawson made the fittings complete in every detail, the result was as good as any one under the conditions could desire.

Opposite the dark-room was my room, six feet long, seven feet deep, built of boards and roofed, the roof being seven feet above the floor. The bed-place was made of fruit-boxes, which, when emptied, served, like those outside, for lockers. My room contained the bulk of our library, the chronometers, chronometer watches, &c., and there was ample room for a table. The whole made a most comfortable cabin.

We set up the acetylene gas-plant on a platform between my room and the dark-room, for our efforts to work it from the porch had failed owing to the lowness of the temperature. The simplicity and portability of this apparatus and the high efficiency of the light represented the height of luxury under polar conditions. The only objectionable feature was the unpleasant smell when the carbide tanks were being recharged, but although we were soon used to this, the daily charging always drew down strong remarks on the unlucky head of Day, who was responsible for the acetylene plant.

As during the winter months the inside of the hut was the whole inhabited world to us, some of the distinctive features of our furnishing may be worthy of mention. The wall of Adams' and Marshall's cubicle, which was next to mine, was fitted with shelves made from Venesta cases, and this apartment was so neat and orderly that it was known by the address "No. 1 Park Lane." The beds of this particular cubicle consisted of bamboos lashed together for extra strength, to which strips of canvas were attached, so that each bed looked like a stretcher. These beds took a little longer than the others to rig up at night, but this disadvantage was more than compensated for by the free space gained during the day. The wall end rested on stout cleats screwed on to the side of the hut, the other end on chairs, and so supported, the occupant slept very comfortably.

The First Slopes of Erebus. (See page 82)

The dividing curtain between this cubicle and the next—occupied by Marston and Day—had been adorned with life-sized coloured drawings of Napoleon and Joan of Arc, and as the colour of Joan and also portions of Napoleon oozed through, the curtain on Marston's side did not require to be decorated! This cubicle was known as "The Gables," and in it was set up the lithographic press. The beds were solid wood, and as Marston was the artist and Day the handy man of the expedition one naturally found an ambitious scheme of decoration.

The next cubicle on the same side belonged to Armytage and Brocklehurst, where everything in the way of shelves and fittings was very primitive, and next to this cubicle came the pantry.

Beyond the stove, facing the pantry, was Mackay and Roberts' cubicle, the main feature of which was a ponderous shelf, on which socks and other light articles chiefly rested, the only thing of weight being our gramophone and records.

Between this cubicle and the next there was no division, neither party troubling to put one up. The result was that the four men were constantly at war regarding encroachments on their ground. Priestley, who was long-suffering, and who occupied the cubicle with Murray, said he did not mind a chair or a volume of the "Encyclopædia Britannica" being occasionally deposited upon him while asleep, but that he drew the line at wet and dirty boots. This cubicle was garnished on Priestley's side with bits of rock, ice-axes &c. and on Murray's with biological requisites.

The next cubicle was occupied by Wild and Joyce, and was known as the "Rogues' Retreat," a painting of two very tough characters, with the inscription The Rogues' Retreat painted underneath, adorning the entrance to the den. The couches in this house were the first to be built, and the first bed was made in Wild's store-room for secrecy's sake. It was to burst suddenly upon every one and to create feelings of admiration and envy. Unfortunately, however, in building it he had forgotten the size of the doorway through which it had to be taken, and it had ignominiously to be sawn in half before it could be passed out of the store-room into the hut.

The last compartment was the dwelling-place of the Professor and Mawson, and it would be difficult to do justice to the picturesque confusion of this cubicle. A miscellaneous assortment of cameras, spectroscopes, microscopes and the like lay in profusion on the blankets. Everything in the way of tin cans was collected by these two scientific men, and the Professor made a pile of glittering tins and coloured wrappers at one end of his bunk, and the heap looked like the nest of the Australian bower bird.

The name given, though not by the owners, to this cubicle was "The Pawn Shop."

In order to give as much free space as possible in the centre of the hut, the table was so arranged that it could be hoisted over our heads after meals were over. At first we put the boxes containing knives, plates &c. on top of the table before hauling it up, but after these had fallen on the head of the unlucky man trying to get them down, we were content to keep them on the floor.

After hearing that the stove had failed to work during the blizzard which had kept me on board the Nimrod, I was very anxious about it. My anxiety, however, was dispelled after the stove had been taken to pieces, and it was found that eight important pieces of its structure had not been put in. As soon as this more than trifling omission was rectified the stove worked magnificently, and as it was kept going day and night for over nine months without once being put out for more than ten minutes, it was severely tested.

Looking back to those distant days, it seems strange to me now that we should have taken so much trouble to furnish and beautify what after all was to be but a temporary home. Nevertheless it represented all the world to its inhabitants, and so we tried to make it as bright and cheerful a spot as possible.

Divine service was held in the hut on Sundays during the winter months.

CHAPTER XII
SLEDGING EQUIPMENT

The sledge which we used is the outcome of the experience of many former explorers, but to Nansen is the chief credit that it has become such a very useful vehicle.

Our experience on the Discovery expedition had convinced me that the eleven-foot sledge is the best for all-round use, but I took with me some twelve-foot sledges as being possibly more suitable for pony traction. A good sledge for Antarctic or Arctic travelling must be rigid in its upright and cross-bars, and yet give to uneven surfaces. A well-constructed sledge needs to be supple without interfering with the strength of the structure, and in our case there was nothing wanting in this respect.

Marston in his Bed. (See page 66)

The wooden runners were about four inches wide and made of hickory, and in pulling the sledge the direction of the grain on the snow surface has to be observed, for it is wonderful what a difference it makes whether one is pulling with or against the grain of the runner.

The second point to consider is the height of the framework of the sledge above the surface of the snow, and as it has been found that a clearance of six inches is ample in ordinary circumstances, the uprights of our sledges were only about six inches high.

An eleven-foot sledge, fully loaded, is at its best working weight with about 650 lb. on it, but this does not represent its actual strength capacity, for while we were unloading the ship we often placed over a thousand pounds' weight on a sledge without damaging it in the least.

Another vitally important article of equipment for the polar explorer is the cooker and cooking-stove, and here again we were indebted to the practical genius of Nansen who designed the form of cooker that is now invariably used in polar work. The stove was the ordinary "primus," burning kerosene, vapourised in the usual way.

Such was the efficiency of the cooker and stove that, in a temperature of forty or fifty degrees below zero, the snow or ice, which would be at this temperature, could be melted and a hot meal prepared within half an hour from the time the cooker was placed on the primus. The whole apparatus, including the primus, did not weigh more than fifteen pounds.

The next important item was the tent, and as the usual unit for sledging consists of three men, our tents were designed to contain that number. The tent cloth was thin Willesden duck, with a "snow-cloth" of thicker material round the lower edge, and instead of a single tent-pole we used five bamboo rods fastened together at one end in a cap, over which the apex of the tent fitted. Inside the tent was placed on the snow a circle of thick Willesden water-proof canvas to protect the sleeping-bags from actual contact with the ground.

It has been generally assumed by polar explorers that sledge travellers must wrap themselves up in furs, but my experience during two expeditions convinces me that except for the hands and feet in the way of personal clothing, and the sleeping-bags for camping, furs are unnecessary. The term "bag" literally describes this portion of the sledging gear, for it is a long bag with closely sewn seams, and is entered by means of a slit at the upper end.

The appetite of a man who has just come to camp after a five-hours' march in a low temperature is something that the ordinary individual at home might possibly envy but would scarcely understand, and, indeed, the sledger himself is sometimes surprised when his ration is finished, and he feels just about as hungry as before his meal.

In choosing supplies I tried to provide those of heat-giving and flesh-forming materials, and to avoid foods containing a large amount of moisture. Our cuisine was not varied, but a voracious appetite has no nice discernment, indeed all one wants is more, and this is just what cannot be allowed if a party is to proceed a great distance while confined to man-haulage. It is hard for a hungry man to rest content with the knowledge that the food he is eating is sufficient for his needs, when he does not feel satisfied after his meal and the aching void has not even temporarily disappeared.

Pemmican, which consists of the finest beef powdered with 60 per cent, of fat added was one of the main items of our food supply, and biscuits are also a standard food in polar work.

I secured thicker biscuits than were used in the previous expedition, and the Plasmon Company supplied a ton of the best wholemeal biscuit, and with an allowance of one pound for each man per day we were as regards farinaceous food considerably better off than those on the Discovery expedition had been.

This allowance, I may mention, was reduced very considerably when food began to run short on the southern and northern journeys, but we had no fault to find with the quality of the biscuits and the addition of Plasmon certainly increased their food-value.

Tea and cocoa were chosen as our beverages for use on the march, tea for breakfast and lunch; and cocoa, which tends to produce sleepiness, for dinner at night. Sugar is a very valuable heat-forming substance, and our allowance of this amounted to about a third of a pound per day for each man.

We also took chocolate, cheese, and oatmeal, so that although there was not much variety we felt that we were getting the most nutritious food possible.

I have already mentioned the clothing which I bought for the expedition, but as regards the most effective head-gear there were marked differences of opinion. The general method, however, of keeping head and ears warm was to wrap a woollen muffler twice round the chin and head, thus protecting the ears which are the first parts of the body to show signs of frost-bite. The muffler was then brought round the neck, and over the muffler was pulled a fleecy travelling-cap, a woollen helmet something like an old-time helmet without the visor.

Plan of the Hut at Winter Quarters (See page 64)

If a blizzard were blowing the muffler was discarded, the helmet put on, and over this the Burberry helmet, which has a stiff flap in front that can be buttoned into a funnel-shape. In very low temperatures, or even in moderately low temperature and a breeze, we had occasionally to inspect each others' faces for the sign of frost-bite; and if the white patch denoting this was visible, it had to be attended to immediately.

CHAPTER XIII
OUR PONIES AND DOGS

The experiences of the National Antarctic Expedition and of the Discovery Expedition convinced me, that if we could use ponies instead of dogs for traction purposes we should be making a very successful change.

It was a risk to take ponies from the far north through the tropics, and then across two thousand miles of stormy sea on a very small ship, but we eventually established ourselves at the winter quarters with eight ponies. Unfortunately, however, we lost four of them within a month of our arrival.

In the case of three out of the four the loss was due to the facts that they were picketed at first on sandy ground, and that we did not notice that they were eating the sand. I had neglected to supply them with salt, and as they found a saline flavour in the sand they ate it at odd moments.

Until Sandy died and a post-mortem examination revealed the cause of his death, we were at a loss to know why several of the ponies were ill. Naturally we shifted them at once to a spot where they could get no more sand, but in spite of the remedies we gave to them two more of the ponies died.

The loss of the fourth pony was due to poisoning, for Manchurian ponies will eat anything that can possibly be chewed, and this particular—or unparticular—one seems to have eaten shavings in which chemicals had been packed. These losses were a matter of the deepest concern to us.

We were left with four ponies, Quan, Socks, Grisi and Chinaman, and they were so precious in our eyes that they were guarded with most keen attention. During the winter months we had many opportunities to learn the different characters of each animal, and as every one of them seemed to possess an extraordinary amount of sense and cunning, we were not infrequently suffering from petty annoyances.

Quan was the worst offender, his delight being to bite through his head-rope and attack the bales of fodder stacked behind him; then, when we put a chain on him, he deliberately rattled it against the side of the hut, which operation kept us awake. Grisi was our best-looking pony, but he was so unfriendly to the others in the stables that we had to build him a separate stall.

Socks was shaped like a miniature Clydesdale, and was always willing to work and very fiery.

The last of our remaining ponies was Chinaman, a strong animal, sulky in appearance, but in reality one of the best of workers. He also liked to bite his head-rope, but when we put a chain on him he did not emulate Grisi by rattling it against the hut.

We had been able to obtain only nine dogs, but many puppies—most of which came to an untimely end—increased this number. The presence of the dogs around our winter quarters was very cheerful and gave a homelike feeling to the place, and our interest in the pups was always fresh, for as they grew up each one developed peculiarities of its own.

All the pups were white and were most useful to us in guarding the ponies, for if a pony got adrift the little army of pups, which slept in the stables, at once surrounded him, and by their furious barking warned the night watchman that something was wrong.

I remember that on one occasion Grisi got free and dashed out of the stables followed by the whole party of pups, and after Mackay had secured the truant the dogs followed with an air of pride as though conscious of having done their duty.

Since we were reduced to four ponies it was necessary to consider the dogs as a possible factor in our work, and so their training was important. But after enjoying some months of freedom it seemed terrible to the young dogs when first a collar was put on them, and even less did they enjoy their experience of being taken to the sledge and there taught to pull.

Peary's account of his expeditions shows that in Arctic regions dogs have been able to traverse long distances very quickly. Once indeed over ninety miles were accomplished in twenty-three hours, but this evidently was done on smooth sea-ice or on the smooth glaciated surface of the land. Such a feat would be impossible on the Antarctic Barrier surface.

A Group of the Shore Party at the Winter Quarters
Standing (from left): Joyce, Day, Wild, Adams, Brocklehurst, Shackleton, Marshall, David, Armytage, Marston Sitting: Priestly, Murray, Roberts

CHAPTER XIV
MOUNT EREBUS

Until March 3 the arrangement of all the details relating to settling in our winter quarters engaged our attention, but afterwards we at once began to seek some outlet for our energies which would advance the cause of science and the work of the expedition.

I was anxious to make a depot to the south for the furtherance of our southern journey in the summer, but the open water between us and Hut Point forbade all progress in that direction; neither was it possible for us to journey towards the western mountains, where the geology might have been studied with the chance of most interesting results.

One journey, however, was possible, certainly a difficult one, yet gaining interest and excitement from that very reason, and this was an attempt to reach the summit of Mount Erebus.

Both geologically and meteorologically the accomplishment of this work was desirable, but apart from scientific considerations the ascent of a mountain over 13,000 feet in height would be exciting both to those chosen as climbers, and to the rest of us who wished for their success.

After deliberation I decided that Professor David, Mawson and Mackay should form the party that was to try to reach the summit, and they were to be provisioned for ten days. A supporting-party, consisting of Adams, Marshall and Brocklehurst, was to assist the main-party as far as possible, and the whole expedition was to be under Adams' charge until he decided that his party was to return, when the Professor was to be in charge of the advance-party.

In my written instructions to Adams, he was given the option of going to the summit if he thought it feasible for his party to push on, and he actually did so, though the supporting-party was only provisioned for six days, and was not so well equipped for mountain-work as the advance-party. I also gave instructions that the supporting-party was not to hamper the main-party, especially as regarded division of provisions, but instead of being drawbacks the three men were of great assistance to the advance division, and lived entirely on their own stores, and equipment.

No sooner was the decision arrived at to make the ascent than the winter quarters became busy with the bustle of preparation, and such was the energy thrown into this work, that by 8.30 A.M. on March 5 the men were ready to start upon the expedition.

In ascending such a mountain as Erebus it was obvious, that a limit would soon be reached beyond which it would be impossible to use a sledge. To meet these circumstances straps were arranged by which single sleeping-bags could be slung in the form of a knapsack upon the climber's back, and inside the bags the remainder of the equipment could be packed. Both the advance and the supporting-party followed this arrangement.

When they started I confess that I saw but little prospect of the whole party reaching the top, yet when, from the hut, on the third day out, we saw through Armytage's telescope six tiny black spots crawling up the immense deep snowfield, and when on the next day I saw the same small figures on the sky-line, I realised that the supporting-party was going the whole way.

But before I give an account of this expedition as reported to me most graphically by Professor David and Adams, I must say something about the mountain on which these six men were winning their spurs not only on their first Antarctic campaign, but also in their first attempt at serious mountaineering.

The name of Mount Erebus looms large in the history of polar exploration both north and south. On January 28, 1841, Sir James Clark Ross named the great volcano—at whose base our winter quarters lay—after the leading ship of his expedition.

The final fate of that ship is linked with the fate of Sir John Franklin and one of the most tragic stories of Arctic exploration, but though both the Erebus and Terror have sunk far from the scenes of their first exploration, that brilliant period of Antarctic discovery will always be remembered by the mountains which took their names from those stout ships. Standing as a sentinel at the gate of the Great Ice Barrier, Erebus forms a magnificent picture. At the top of the mountain an immense depression marks the site of the old crater, and from the side of this rises the active cone, generally marked by steam or smoke. To ascend such a mountain would be difficult in any part of the world, but the difficulties were accentuated by the latitude of Erebus. The men, however, were determined to do their utmost to reach the crater itself, and how they fared and what they found must be told from the reports they gave to me.

CHAPTER XV
ATTACKING MOUNT EREBUS

All hands accompanied the expedition when it started at a quarter to nine on the morning of March 5, and helped to pull the sledge along the slopes of Back Door Bay across Blue Lake, up the eastern slope to the first level; and there we said farewell to the mountain party.

Ice Flowers on newly-formed Sea Ice early in the Winter

They first steered straight up a snow slope, and about a mile out and 400 feet above sea-level a glacial moraine barred their path, and they had to portage the sledge over it by slipping ice-axes under the load between the runners and bearers of the sledge (total weight of sledge and load was 560 lb.), and lifting it over the obstruction. On the further side of the moraine was a sloping surface of ice and névé, on which the sledge capsized for the first time. Light snow was falling and there was a slight wind.

More difficulties were quickly encountered, and no sooner had the party managed, by struggling upon their hands and knees, to drag the sledge up the steep slope of a small glacier, than their progress was impeded by sastrugi.

"Sastrugi" means wind furrow, and is the name given to those annoying obstacles to sledging, due to the action of the wind on the snow. These sastrugi vary in depth from two or three inches to three or four feet, according to the position of any rock masses near them and to the force of the wind forming them.

Though they have many disadvantages, they are occasionally very welcome; for sometimes it is impossible to see the way to steer unless one takes the line of sastrugi and notes the angle it makes with the compass course, the compass for the moment being placed on the snow to obtain the direction.

The sledgers, at this particular juncture, had much trouble in keeping their feet; and their remarks upon the subject of sastrugi were distinctly audible and uncomplimentary.

On the first evening the party camped at 6 P.M., about 2750 ft. above sea-level and a distance of seven miles from winter quarters; and on the following morning they found that the temperature was 10° below zero Fahr.

The gradient was becoming much steeper, being 1 in 5, and sastrugi, running obliquely to their course, caused the sledge frequently to capsize. The heavy work, however, resulted in keeping the travellers warm; and on the night of March 6 they had reached an altitude of 5630 ft., and a temperature of 28° below zero.

On the following morning Adams decided that the supporting-party should attempt to reach the summit, though they were handicapped by having a three-man sleeping-bag—which article of bulk one man had to carry—and in various other ways.

The party made a depot of the sledge and of some of the provisions and cooking utensils at the second camp, and then, starting with tent-poles among their equipment, they resumed their climb. Soon, however, they realised the impossibility of climbing the mountain with these articles, which had to be taken back to the depot.

Each man carried a weight of 40 lb., and on the third evening the party camped about 8750 ft. above sea-level. Between 9 and 10 P.M. of the 7th a strong wind sprang up, and when the men woke the following morning a fierce blizzard was blowing from the south-east.

In the whirling snow and roaring wind, the two sections of the party, although only some ten yards apart, could neither see nor hear each other, and the blizzard increased in fury as the day wore on.

In the afternoon, however, Brocklehurst emerged from the three-man sleeping-bag, and instantly a fierce gust whirled away one of his wolfskin mits, and he, dashing after it, was swept down the ravine by the force of the wind.

Adams, who had left the bag with Brocklehurst, saw the latter vanish, and in trying to return to the bag to fetch Marshall, he also was blown down by the wind. Meanwhile Marshall, the only occupant of the bag, had great difficulty in keeping himself from being blown, sleeping-bag and all, down the ravine.

At last Adams, on his hands and knees, succeeded in reaching the bag, and at the same time Brocklehurst, also creeping along as best he could, appeared. It was a close call, for so biting was the cold that he was all but completely gone.

During the day and night of the 8th the travellers had nothing to drink, as it would have been impossible to have kept the lamp alight to thaw out the snow. Happily, by 4 A.M. the blizzard was over, and soon afterwards the climbers were again on their way. The angle of ascent was now steeper than ever, being thirty-four degrees—that is, a rise of 1 in 1½ and the travellers kept as much as possible to the bare rocks. During this day Brocklehurst, who was wearing ski boots, began to feel the cold attacking his feet, but did not think seriously enough of it to change into finnesko.

At noon a fair camping-ground was found some 800 ft. below the rim of the old crater, and after a hasty meal the ascent was again tackled. Within a little distance from the top of the rim of the main crater, Mackay chose to work his way alone with his ice-axe up a long and very steep névé slope, instead of following the safer route by the rocks.

One thousand feet below the Active Cone