ny rescued from the killer whales in March. Scott led out
Snippets to the sledges, and harnessed him to the foremost, with little
Anton's help--only it turned out to be Bowers' sledge! However he
transferred in a few minutes and marched off rapidly to the south.
Christopher, as usual, behaved like a demon. First they had to trice his
front leg up tight under his shoulder, then it took five minutes to throw
him. The sledge was brought up and he was harnessed in while his head was
held down on the floe. Finally he rose up, still on three legs, and
started off galloping as well as he was able. After several violent kicks
his foreleg was released, and after more watch-spring flicks with his
hind legs he set off fairly steadily. Titus can't stop him when once he
has started, and will have to do the fifteen miles in one lap probably!

"Dear old Titus--that was my last memory of him. Imperturbable as ever;
never hasty, never angry, but soothing that vicious animal, and
determined to get the best out of most unpromising material in his
endeavour to do his simple duty.

"Bowers was last to leave. His pony, Victor, nervous but not vicious, was
soon in the traces. I ran to the end of the Cape and watched the little
cavalcade--already strung out into remote units--rapidly fade into the
lonely white waste to southward.

"That evening I had a chat with Wilson over the telephone from the
Discovery Hut--my last communication with those five gallant
spirits."[181]

All the ponies arrived at Hut Point by 4 P.M., just in time to escape a
stiff blow. Three of them were housed with ourselves inside the hut, the
rest being put into the verandah. The march showed that with their loads
the speed of the different ponies varied to such an extent that
individuals were soon separated by miles. "It reminded me of a regatta or
a somewhat disorganized fleet with ships of very unequal speed."[182]

It was decided to change to night marching, and the following evening we
proceeded in the following order, which was the way of our going for the
present. The three slowest ponies started first, namely, Jehu with
Atkinson, Chinaman with Wright, James Pigg with Keohane. This party was
known as the Baltic Fleet.

Two hours later Scott's party followed; Scott with Snippets, Wilson with
Nobby, and myself with Michael.

Both these parties camped for lunch in the middle of the night's march.
After another hour the remaining four men set to work to get Chri