rave man
and an English gentleman. We all hope to meet the end with a similar
spirit, and assuredly the end is not far.

"I can only write at lunch and then only occasionally. The cold is
intense, -40 deg. at mid-day. My companions are unendingly cheerful, but we
are all on the verge of serious frost-bites, and though we constantly
talk of fetching through I don't think any one of us believes it in his
heart.

"We are cold on the march now, and at all times except meals. Yesterday
we had to lay up for a blizzard and to-day we move dreadfully slowly. We
are at No. 14 Pony Camp, only two pony marches from One Ton Depot. We
leave here our theodolite, a camera, and Oates' sleeping-bags. Diaries,
etc., and geological specimens carried at Wilson's special request, will
be found with us or on our sledge."

"_Sunday, March 18._ To-day, lunch, we are 21 miles from the depot. Ill
fortune presses, but better may come. We have had more wind and drift
from ahead yesterday; had to stop marching; wind N.W., force 4, temp.
-35 deg.. No human being could face it, and we are worn out _nearly_.

"My right foot has gone, nearly all the toes--two days ago I was proud
possessor of best feet.... Bowers takes first place in condition, but
there is not much to choose after all. The others are still confident of
getting through--or pretend to be--I don't know! We have the last _half_
fill of oil in our primus and a very small quantity of spirit--this alone
between us and thirst. The wind is fair for the moment, and that is
perhaps a fact to help. The mileage would have seemed ridiculously small
on our outward journey."

"_Monday, March 19. Lunch._ We camped with difficulty last night and were
dreadfully cold till after our supper of cold pemmican and biscuit and a
half pannikin of cocoa cooked over the spirit. Then, contrary to
expectation, we got warm and all slept well. To-day we started in the
usual dragging manner. Sledge dreadfully heavy. We are 151/2 miles from the
depot and ought to get there in three days. What progress! We have two
days' food but barely a day's fuel. All our feet are getting
bad--Wilson's best, my right foot worse, left all right. There is no
chance to nurse one's feet till we can get hot food into us. Amputation
is the least I can hope for now, but will the trouble spread? That is the
serious question. The weather doesn't give us a chance--the wind from N.
to N.W. and -40 deg. temp, to-day."

"_Wednesday, March