and will jump over the trace, bite
Nugis like a snap, and be back again in his own place before the fat
dog knows what has happened. [Dr. Wilson's Journal.]

_Note_ 13_a_, _p_. 125.--Taking up the story from the point where
eleven of the thirteen dogs had been brought to the surface,
Mr. Cherry-Garrard's Diary records:

This left the two at the bottom. Scott had several times wanted
to go down. Bill said to me that he hoped he wouldn't, but now he
insisted. We found the Alpine rope would reach, and then lowered Scott
down to the platform, sixty feet below. I thought it very plucky. We
then hauled the two dogs up on the rope, leaving Scott below. Scott
said the dogs were very glad to see him; they had curled up asleep--it
was wonderful they had no bones broken.

Then Meares' dogs, which were all wandering about loose, started
fighting our team, and we all had to leave Scott and go and separate
them, which took some time. They fixed on Noogis (I.) badly. We
then hauled Scott up: it was all three of us could do--fingers a
good deal frost-bitten at the end. That was all the dogs. Scott has
just said that at one time he never hoped to get back the thirteen
or even half of them. When he was down in the crevasse he wanted to
go off exploring, but we dissuaded him. Of course it was a great
opportunity. He kept on saying, 'I wonder why this is running the
way it is--you expect to find them at right angles.'

Scott found inside crevasse warmer than above, but had no
thermometer. It is a great wonder the whole sledge did not drop
through: the inside was like the cliff of Dover.

_Note_ 14, _p_. 136.--_February_ 28. Meares and I led off with a dog
team each, and leaving the Barrier we managed to negotiate the first
long pressure ridge of the sea ice where the seals all lie, without
much trouble--the dogs were running well and fast and we kept on
the old tracks, still visible, by which we had come out in January,
heading a long way out to make a wide detour round the open water
off Cape Armitage, from which a very wide extent of thick black fog,
'frost smoke' as we call it, was rising on our right. This completely
obscured our view of the open water, and the only suggestion it gave
me was that the thaw pool off the Cape was much bigger than when
we passed it in January and that we should probably have to make a
detour of three or four miles round it to reach Hut Point instead of
one or two. I still thought it was not impossib