and polished as elsewhere: it was now a mass of the
hardest and smallest snow crystals, to pull through which in cold
temperatures was just like pulling through sand. I have spoken elsewhere
of Barrier surfaces, and how, when the cold is very great, sledge runners
cannot melt the crystal points but only advance by rolling them over and
over upon one another. That was the surface we met on this journey, and
in soft snow the effect is accentuated. Our feet were sinking deep at
every step.

And so when we tried to start on June 30 we found we could not move both
sledges together. There was nothing for it but to take one on at a time
and come back for the other. This has often been done in daylight when
the only risks run are those of blizzards which may spring up suddenly
and obliterate tracks. Now in darkness it was more complicated. From 11
A.M. to 3 P.M. there was enough light to see the big holes made by our
feet, and we took on one sledge, trudged back in our tracks, and brought
on the second. Bowers used to toggle and untoggle our harnesses when we
changed sledges. Of course in this relay work we covered three miles in
distance for every one mile forward, and even the single sledges were
very hard pulling. When we lunched the temperature was -61 deg.. After lunch
the little light had gone, and we carried a naked lighted candle back
with us when we went to find our second sledge. It was the weirdest kind
of procession, three frozen men and a little pool of light. Generally we
steered by Jupiter, and I never see him now without recalling his
friendship in those days.

We were very silent, it was not very easy to talk: but sledging is always
a silent business. I remember a long discussion which began just now
about cold snaps--was this the normal condition of the Barrier, or was it
a cold snap?--what constituted a cold snap? The discussion lasted about a
week. Do things slowly, always slowly, that was the burden of Wilson's
leadership: and every now and then the question, Shall we go on? and the
answer Yes. "I think we are all right as long as our appetites are good,"
said Bill. Always patient, self-possessed, unruffled, he was the only man
on earth, as I believe, who could have led this journey.

That day we made 31/4 miles, and travelled 10 miles to do it. The
temperature was -66 deg. when we camped, and we were already pretty badly
iced up. That was the last night I lay (I had written slept) in my big
reindeer bag