ne week "out" and had travelled thirty-one miles.
Future progress depended entirely on the weather--unfortunately. We were
beginning to learn that though the season was "meteorologically" called
summer, it was hardly recognizable as such.

December 10 was Whetter's birthday. It was heralded by an extra strong
wind and the usual liberal allowance of drift. I was cook, and made some
modifications in the meal. Hodgeman (who was the previous cook) used to
make hoosh as thick as a biscuit, so we had some thin stuff for a change
--two mugs each. Then really strong tea; we boiled it for some time to
make sure of the strength and added some leaves which had already done
good service.

Several times fault had been found with the way the tent was pitched.
I had not yet tried my hand at being the "man inside" during this
operation. One day, while every one was grumbling, I said I would take
the responsibility at the next camp; the proposal being received with
grunts of assent. When the job was finished and the poles appeared to
be spread taut, I found myself alone in what seemed to me a cathedral.
Feeling pleased, I called for the others to come in, and arranged myself
in a corner with an "I-told-you-so" expression on my face, ready to
receive their congratulations. Hodgeman came in first. He is not a large
man, though he somehow gives one the impression that he is, but after
he had made himself comfortable the place seemed smaller. When half-way
through the "spout," coming in, he gave a grunt which I took to be one
of appreciation. Then Whetter came in. He is of a candid disposition:
"Ho, ho, laddie, what the dickens have you done with the tent?"

I tried to explain their mistake. But it was no good. When we were all
inside, I couldn't help seeing that the tent was much smaller than it
had ever been before, and we had to huddle together most uncomfortably.
And there were three days like this.

At nine o'clock one morning Hodgeman woke me with, "What about getting
a move on?" The wind had dropped to forty miles an hour, and through a
tiny hole in the tent the ground could be seen. Amid a thinning fog of
drift, the disc of the sun was just visible.

We made a start and then plodded on steadily till midnight over a soft
and uncomfortable surface. Shortly after that hour I looked at the
sledge-meter and found that it had ceased working; the sprocket had been
knocked off. Repair was out of the question, as every joint was soldered