When I swung the thermometer this morning I looked and looked again, but
unmistakably the temperature was +33 deg.F., above freezing point (out of the
sun's direct rays) for the first time since we came down here. What this
means to us nobody can conceive. We try to treat it as a huge joke, but
our wretched condition might be amusing to read of it later. We are wet
through, our tents are wet, our bags which are our life to us and the
objects of our greatest care, are wet; the poor ponies are soaked and
shivering far more than they would be ordinarily in a temperature fifty
degrees lower. Our sledges--the parts that are dug out--are wet, our food
is wet, everything on and around and about us is the same--wet as
ourselves and our cold, clammy clothes. Water trickles down the tent
poles and only forms icicles in contact with the snow floor. The warmth
of our bodies has formed a snow bath in the floor for each of us to lie
in. This is a nice little catchwater for stray streams to run into before
they freeze. This they cannot do while a warm human lies there, so they
remain liquid and the accommodating bag mops them up. When we go out to
do the duties of life, fill the cooker, etc., for the next meal, dig out
or feed the ponies, or anything else, we are bunged up with snow. Not the
driving, sandlike snow we are used to, but great slushy flakes that run
down in water immediately and stream off you. The drifts are tremendous,
the rest of the show is indescribable. I feel most for the unfortunate
animals and am thankful that poor old Victor is spared this. I mended a
pair of half mitts to-day, and we are having two meals instead of three.
This idleness when one is simply jumping to go on is bad enough for most,
but must be worse for Captain Scott. I feel glad that he has Dr. Bill
(Wilson) in his tent; there is something always so reassuring about Bill,
he comes out best in adversity."[216]

"Thursday, December 7. Camp 30. The storm continues and the situation is
now serious. One small feed remains for the ponies after to-day, so that
we must either march to-morrow or sacrifice the animals. That is not the
worst; with the help of the dogs we could get on, without doubt. The
serious part is that we have this morning started our Summit
rations--that is to say, the food calculated from the Glacier Depot has
been begun. The first supporting party can only go on a fortnight from
this date and so forth."[217]

[Illustration: A PONY CA