louds. This evening the air is full of ice
crystals and a stratus forms again. This alternation of clouded and
clear skies has been the routine for some time now and is accompanied
by the absence of wind which is delightfully novel.

The blood of the Crozier Party, tested by Atkinson, shows a very slight
increase of acidity--such was to be expected, and it is pleasing to
note that there is no sign of scurvy. If the preserved foods had
tended to promote the disease, the length of time and severity of
conditions would certainly have brought it out. I think we should be
safe on the long journey.

I have had several little chats with Wilson on the happenings of
the journey. He says there is no doubt Cherry-Garrard felt the
conditions most severely, though he was not only without complaint,
but continuously anxious to help others.

Apropos, we both conclude that it is the younger people that have the
worst time; Gran, our youngest member (23), is a very clear example,
and now Cherry-Garrard at 26.

Wilson (39) says he never felt cold less than he does now; I suppose
that between 30 and 40 is the best all round age. Bowers is a wonder of
course. He is 29. When past the forties it is encouraging to remember
that Peary was 52!!

_Thursday, August_ 10.--There has been very little to record of late
and my pen has been busy on past records.

The weather has been moderately good and as before wholly
incomprehensible. Wind has come from a clear sky and from a clouded
one; we had a small blow on Tuesday but it never reached gale force;
it came without warning, and every sign which we have regarded as a
warning has proved a bogey. The fact is, one must always be prepared
for wind and never expect it.

The daylight advances in strides. Day has fitted an extra sash to
our window and the light admitted for the first time through triple
glass. With this device little ice collects inside.

The ponies are very fit but inclined to be troublesome: the quiet
beasts develop tricks without rhyme or reason. Chinaman still kicks and
squeals at night. Anton's theory is that he does it to warm himself,
and perhaps there is something in it. When eating snow he habitually
takes too large a mouthful and swallows it; it is comic to watch him,
because when the snow chills his inside he shuffles about with all four
legs and wears a most fretful, aggrieved expression: but no sooner has
the snow melted than he seizes another mouthful. Other ponies