n't get to the 80th parallel if only the weather would
give us a chance.
Bowers is wonderful. Throughout the night he has worn no head-gear
but a common green felt hat kept on with a chin stay and affording no
cover whatever for the ears. His face and ears remain bright red. The
rest of us were glad to have thick Balaclavas and wind helmets. I have
never seen anyone so unaffected by the cold. To-night he remained
outside a full hour after the rest of us had got into the tent. He
was simply pottering about the camp doing small jobs to the sledges,
&c. Cherry-Garrard is remarkable because of his eyes. He can only see
through glasses and has to wrestle with all sorts of inconveniences
in consequence. Yet one could never guess it--for he manages somehow
to do more than his share of the work.
_Tuesday, February_ 14.--13 Camp. 7 miles 650 yards. A disappointing
day: the weather had cleared, the night was fine though cold,
temperature well below zero with a keen S.W. breeze. Soon after the
start we struck very bad surface conditions. The ponies sank lower
than their hocks frequently and the soft patches of snow left by the
blizzard lay in sandy heaps, making great friction for the runners. We
struggled on, but found Gran with Weary Willy dropping to the rear. I
consulted Oates as to distance and he cheerfully proposed 15 miles
for the day! This piqued me somewhat and I marched till the sledge
meter showed 6 1/2 miles. By this time Weary Willy had dropped about
three-quarters of a mile and the dog teams were approaching. Suddenly
we heard much barking in the distance, and later it was evident that
something had gone wrong. Oates and then I hurried back. I met Meares,
who told me the dogs of his team had got out of hand and attacked
Weary Willy when they saw him fall. Finally they had been beaten off
and W.W. was being led without his sledge. W.W. had been much bitten,
but luckily I think not seriously: he appears to have made a gallant
fight, and bit and shook some of the dogs with his teeth. Gran did
his best, breaking his ski stick. Meares broke his dog stick--one way
and another the dogs must have had a rocky time, yet they seemed to
bear charmed lives when their blood is up, as apparently not one of
them has been injured.
After lunch four of us went back and dragged up the load. It taught us
the nature of the surface more than many hours of pony leading!! The
incident is deplorable and the blame widespread. I find W.W
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