The Worst Journey in the World (28 page)

"Very little was said. Crean like most bluejackets behaved as if he had
done this sort of thing often before. Cherry, the practical, after an
hour or two dug out some chocolate and biscuit, during one of our
enforced waits, and distributed it. I felt at that time that food was the
last thing on earth I wanted, and put it in my pocket; in less than half
an hour, though, I had eaten the lot. The ponies behaved as well as my
companions, and jumped the floes in great style. After getting them on a
new floe we simply left them, and there they stood chewing at each
others' head ropes or harness till we were over with the sledges and
ready to take them on again. Their implicit trust in us was touching to
behold. A 12-feet sledge makes an excellent bridge if an opening is too
wide to jump. After some hours we saw fast ice ahead, and thanked God for
it. Meanwhile a further unpleasantness occurred in the arrival of a host
of the terrible 'killer' whales. These were reaping a harvest of seal in
the broken-up ice, and cruised among the floes with their immense black
fins sticking up, and blowing with a terrific roar. The Killer is
scientifically known as the Orca, and, though far smaller than the sperm
and other large whales, is a much more dangerous animal. He is armed with
a huge iron jaw and great blunt socket teeth. Killers act in concert,
too, and, as you may remember, nearly got Ponting when we were unloading
the ship, by pressing up the thin ice from beneath and splitting it in
all directions.

"It took us over six hours to get close to the fast ice, which proved to
be the Barrier, some immense chunks of which we actually saw break off
and join the pack. Close in, the motion was less owing to the jambing up
of the ice somewhere farther west. We had only just cleared the Strait in
time though, as all the ice in the centre, released beyond Cape Armitage,
headed off into the middle of the Strait, and thence to the Ross Sea. Our
spirits rose as we neared the Barrier edge, and I made for a big sloping
floe which I expected would be touching; at any rate I anticipated no
difficulty. We rushed up the slope towards safety, and were little
prepared for the scene that met our eyes at the top. All along the
Barrier face a broad lane of water from thirty to forty feet wide
extended. This was filled with smashed-up brash ice, which was heaving up
and down to the swell like the contents of a cauldron. Killers were
cruising there with fiendish activity, and the Barrier edge was a sheer
cliff of ice on the other side fifteen to twenty feet high. It was a case
of so near and yet so far. Suddenly our great sloping floe calved in two,
so we beat a hasty retreat. I selected a sound-looking floe just clear of
this turmoil, that was at least ten feet thick, and fairly rounded, with
a flat surface. Here we collected everything and having done all that man
could do, we fed the beasts and took counsel.

"Cherry and Crean both volunteered to do anything, in the spirit they had
shown right through. It appeared of first necessity to communicate with
Captain Scott. I guessed his anxiety on our behalf, and, as we could do
nothing more, we wanted help of some sort. It occurred to me that a man
working up to windward along the Barrier face might happen upon a floe
touching
(the Barrier)
. It was obviously impossible to take ponies up
there anywhere, but an active man might wait his opportunity. Going to
windward, too, he could always retreat on to our floe, as the ice was
being pushed together in our direction. The next consideration was, whom
to send. To go myself was out of the question. The problem was whether to
send one, or both, my companions. As my object was to save the animals
and gear, it appeared to me that one man remaining would be helpless in
the event of the floe splitting up, as he would be busy saving himself. I
therefore decided to send one only. This would have to be Crean, as
Cherry, who wears glasses, could not see so well. Both volunteered, but
as I say, I thought out all the pros and cons and sent Crean, knowing
that, at the worst, he could get back to us at any time. I sent a note to
Captain Scott, and, stuffing Crean's pockets with food, we saw him
depart.

"Practical Cherry suggested pitching the tent as a mark of our
whereabouts, and having done this I mounted the theodolite to watch Crean
through the telescope. The rise and fall of the floe made this difficult,
especially as a number of Emperor penguins came up and looked just like
men in the distance. Fortunately the sunlight cleared the frost smoke,
and as it fell calm our westerly motion began to decrease. The swell
started to go down. Outside us in the centre of the Strait all the ice
had gone out, and open water remained. We were one of a line of loose
floes floating near the Barrier edge. Crean was hours moving to and fro
before I had the satisfaction of seeing him up on the Barrier. I said:
'Thank God one of us is out of the wood, anyhow.'

"It was not a pleasant day that Cherry and I spent all alone there,
knowing as we did that it only wanted a zephyr from the south to send us
irretrievably out to sea; still there is satisfaction in knowing that one
has done one's utmost, and I felt that having been delivered so
wonderfully so far, the same Hand would not forsake us at the last.

"We gave the ponies all they could eat that day. The Killers were too
interested in us to be pleasant. They had a habit of bobbing up and down
perpendicularly, so as to see over the edge of a floe, in looking for
seals. The huge black and yellow heads with sickening pig eyes only a few
yards from us at times, and always around us, are among the most
disconcerting recollections I have of that day. The immense fins were bad
enough, but when they started a perpendicular dodge they were positively
beastly. As the day wore on skua gulls, looking upon us as certain
carrion, settled down comfortably near us to await developments. The
swell, however, was getting less and less and it resolved itself into a
question of speed, as to whether the wind or Captain Scott would reach us
first.

"Crean had got up into the Barrier at great risks to himself as I
gathered afterwards from his very modest account. He had reached Captain
Scott some time after his [Scott's] meeting with Wilson.
^[120]
I heard
that at the time Captain Scott was very angry with me for not abandoning
everything and getting away safely myself. For my own part I must say
that the abandoning of the ponies was the one thing that had never
entered my head. It was a long way round, but at 7 P.M. he arrived at the
edge of the Barrier opposite us with Oates and Crean. Everything was
still, and Cherry and I could have got on safe ice at any time during the
last half hour by using the sledge as a ladder. A big overturned fragment
had jambed in the lane, between a high floe and the Barrier edge, and,
there being no wind, it remained there. However, there was the
consideration of the ponies, so we waited.

"Scott, instead of blowing me up, was too relieved at our safety to be
anything but pleased. I said: 'What about the ponies and the sledges?' He
said: 'I don't care a damn about the ponies and sledges. It's you I want,
and I am going to see you safe here up on the Barrier before I do
anything else.' Cherry and I had got everything ready, so, dragging up
two sledges, we dumped the gear off them, and using them as ladders, one
down from the berg on to the buffer piece of ice, and the other up to the
top of the Barrier, we got up without difficulty. Captain Scott was so
pleased, that I realized the feeling he must have had all day. He had
been blaming himself for our deaths, and here we were very much alive. He
said: 'My dear chaps, you can't think how glad I am to see you
safe—Cherry likewise.'

"I was all for saving the beasts and sledges, however, so he let us go
back and haul the sledges on to the nearest floe. We did this one by one
and brought the ponies along, while Titus dug down a slope from the
Barrier edge in the hope of getting the ponies up it. Scott knew more
about ice than any of us, and realizing the danger we didn't, still
wanted to abandon things. I fought for my point tooth and nail, and got
him to concede one article and then another, and still the ice did not
move till we had thrown and hauled up every article on to the Barrier
except the two ladders and the ponies.

"To my intense disappointment at this juncture the ice started to move
again. Titus had been digging down a road in the Barrier edge, and I
hoped to dig down a similar slope from the floe, the snow thus shovelled
down would go over the blue ice chunk, cover up the slippery ice and
level it up. It would have taken hours, but was the only chance of
getting the animals up. We dug like fury until Captain Scott peremptorily
ordered us up. I ran up on the floe and took the nosebags off the ponies
before we got on to the Barrier, and hauled the sledges up. It was only
just in time. There was the faintest south-easterly air, but, like a
black snake, the lane of water stretched between the ponies and
ourselves. It widened almost imperceptibly, 2 feet, 6 feet, 10 feet, 20
feet, and, sick as we were about the ponies, we were glad to be on the
safe side of that.

"We dragged the sledges in a little way, and, leaving them, pitched the
two tents half a mile farther in, for bits of the Barrier were
continually calving. While supper (it was about 3 A.M.) was being cooked,
Scott and I walked down again. The wind had gone to the east, and all the
ice was under weigh. A lane 70 feet wide extended along the Barrier edge,
and Killers were chasing up and down it like racehorses. Our three
unfortunate beasts were some way out, sailing parallel to the Barrier. We
returned, and if ever one could feel miserable I did then. My feelings
were nothing to what poor Captain Scott had had to endure that day. I at
once broached the hopeful side of the subject, remarking that, with the
two Campbell had left, we had ten ponies at Winter quarters. He said,
however, that he had no confidence whatever in the motors after the way
their rollers had become messed up unloading the ship. He had had his
confidence in the dogs much shaken on the return journey, and now he had
lost the most solid asset—the best of his pony transport. He said: 'Of
course we shall have a run for our money next season, but as far as the
Pole is concerned I have but very little hope.' We had a mournful meal,
but after the others turned in I went down again, and by striking across
diagonally came abreast of the ponies' floe, over a mile away. They were
moving west fast, but they saw me, and remained huddled together not the
least disturbed, or doubting that we would bring them their breakfast
nosebags as usual in the morning. Poor trustful creatures! If I could
have done it then, I would gladly have killed them rather than picture
them starving on that floe out on the Ross Sea, or eaten by the exultant
Killers that cruised around.

"After breakfast Captain Scott sent me to bring up the sledges. It was
dead calm again. Hope always springs, so I took his pair of glasses and
looked west from the Barrier edge. Nearly all the ice had gone, but a
medley of floes had been hurled up against a long point of Barrier much
farther west. To my delight I saw three green specks on one of these—the
pony rugs—and all four of us legged it back to the tent to tell Captain
Scott. We were soon off over the Barrier. It was a long way, but we had a
tent and some food. Crean had a bad day of snow-blindness, and could see
absolutely nothing. So, on arrival at the place, we pitched the tent and
left him there. The ponies were in a much worse place than the day
before, but the ice was still there, and some floes actually touched the
Barrier.

"After our recent experience Captain Scott would only let us go on
condition that as soon as he gave the order we were to drop everything
and run for the Barrier. I was in a feverish hurry, and with Titus and
Cherry selected a possible route over about six floes, and some low brash
ice. The hardest jump was the first one, but it was nothing to what they
had done the day before, so we put Punch at it. Why he hung fire I cannot
think,
^[121]
but he did, at the very edge, and the next moment was in the
water. I will draw a veil over our struggle to get the plucky little pony
out. We could not manage it, and Titus had at last to put an end to his
struggles with a pick.

"There was now my pony and Nobby. We abandoned that route, while Captain
Scott looked out another and longer one by going right out on the
sea-floes. This we decided on, if we could get the animals off their
present floe, which necessitated a good jump on any side. Captain Scott
said he would have no repetition of Punch's misfortune if he could help
it. He would rather kill them on the floe. Anyhow, we rushed old Nobby at
the jump, but he refused. It seemed no good, but I rushed him at it again
and again. Scott was for killing them
(it should be remembered that this
ice, with the men on it, might drift away from the Barrier at any moment,
and then there might be no further chance of saving the men)
but I was
not, and, pretending not to hear him, I rushed the old beast again. He
cleared it beautifully, and Titus, seizing the opportunity, ran my pony
at it with similar success. We then returned to the Barrier and worked
along westward till a suitable place for getting up was found. There
Scott and Cherry started digging a road, while Titus and I went out via
the sea-ice to get the ponies. We had an empty sledge as a bridge or
ladder, in case of emergency, and had to negotiate about forty floes to
reach the animals. It was pretty easy going, though, and we brought them
along with great success as far as the two nearest floes. At this place
the ice was jambed.

"Nobby cleared the last jump splendidly, when suddenly in the open water
pond on one side a school of over a dozen of the terrible whales arose.
This must have flurried my horse just as he was jumping, as instead of
going straight he jumped
(sideways)
and just missed the floe with his
hind legs. It was another horrible situation, but Scott rushed Nobby up
on the Barrier, while Titus, Cherry and I struggled with poor old Uncle
Bill. Why the whales did not come under the ice and attack him I cannot
say—perhaps they were full of seal, perhaps they were so engaged in
looking at us on the top of the floe that they forgot to look below;
anyhow, we got him safely as far as
(the bottom of the Barrier cliff)
,
pulling him through the thin ice towards a low patch of brash.