w through our wind-clothes and into our mitts. Poor Wilson
horribly cold, could [not] get off ski for some time. Bowers and I
practically made camp, and when we got into the tent at last we were all
deadly cold. Then temp. now mid-day down -43 deg. and the wind strong. We
_must_ go on, but now the making of every camp must be more difficult and
dangerous. It must be near the end, but a pretty merciful end. Poor Oates
got it again in the foot. I shudder to think what it will be like
to-morrow. It is only with greatest pains rest of us keep off
frost-bites. No idea there could be temperatures like this at this time
of year with such winds. Truly awful outside the tent. Must fight it out
to the last biscuit, but can't reduce rations."

[Illustration: A BLIZZARD CAMP--E. A. Wilson, del.]

"_Friday, March 16, or Saturday, 17._ Lost track of dates, but think the
last correct. Tragedy all along the line. At lunch, the day before
yesterday, poor Titus Oates said he couldn't go on; he proposed we should
leave him in his sleeping-bag. That we could not do, and we induced him
to come on, on the afternoon march. In spite of its awful nature for him
he struggled on and we made a few miles. At night he was worse and we
knew the end had come.

"Should this be found I want these facts recorded. Oates' last thoughts
were of his mother, but immediately before he took pride in thinking that
his regiment would be pleased with the bold way in which he met his
death. We can testify to his bravery. He has borne intense suffering for
weeks without complaint, and to the very last was able and willing to
discuss outside subjects. He did not--would not--give up hope till the
very end. He was a brave soul. This was the end. He slept through the
night before last, hoping not to wake; but he woke in the
morning--yesterday. It was blowing a blizzard. He said, 'I am just going
outside and may be some time.' He went out into the blizzard and we have
not seen him since.

"I take this opportunity of saying that we have stuck to our sick
companions to the last. In case of Edgar Evans, when absolutely out of
food and he lay insensible, the safety of the remainder seemed to demand
his abandonment, but Providence mercifully removed him at this critical
moment. He died a natural death, and we did not leave him till two hours
after his death. We knew that poor Oates was walking to his death, but
though we tried to dissuade him, we knew it was the act of a b