The Worst Journey in the World (29 page)

"Captain Scott was afraid of something happening to us with those
devilish whales so close, and was for abandoning the horse right away. I
had no eyes or ears for anything but the horse just then, and getting on
to the thin brash ice got the Alpine rope fast to each of the pony's
forefeet. Crean was too blind to do anything but hold the rescued horse
on the Barrier, but the other four of us pulled might and main till we
got the old horse out and lying on his side. The brash ice was so thin
that, had a 'Killer' come up then he would have scattered it, and the lot
of us into the water like chaff. I was sick with disappointment when I
found that my horse could not rise. Titus said: 'He's done; we shall
never get him up alive.' The cold water and shock on top of all his
recent troubles, had been too much for the undefeated old sportsman. In
vain I tried to get him to his feet; three times he tried and then fell
over backwards into the water again. At that moment a new danger arose.
The whole piece of Barrier itself started to subside.

"It had evidently been broken before, and the tide was doing the rest. We
were ordered up and it certainly was all too necessary; still Titus and I
hung over the old Uncle Bill's head. I said: 'I can't leave him to be
eaten alive by those whales.' There was a pick lying up on the floe.
Titus said: 'I shall be sick if I have to kill another horse like I did
the last.' I had no intention that anybody should kill my own horse but
myself, and getting the pick I struck where Titus told me. I made sure of
my job before we ran up and jumped the opening in the Barrier, carrying a
blood-stained pick-axe instead of leading the pony I had almost
considered safe.

"We returned to our old camp that night (March 2) with Nobby, the only
one saved of the five that left One Ton Depôt. I was fearfully cut up
about my pony and Punch, but it was better than last night; we knew they
would not have to starve and that all their troubles were now at an end.
Before supper I went for a walk along the Barrier with Scott, and the
next day we started back. We left one tent, two sledges and a lot of gear
as Nobby could only pull two light sledges, and we could not pull an
excessive weight on that bad surface. As it was we had over 800 lbs. on
the sledge when we left. It was a glaring day with the surface soft and
sandy, a combination of unpleasant circumstances. It took five hours to
drag as far as the place we had originally gone down on to the sea-ice
from the Barrier.

"Evans and his party should now have arrived from Corner Camp, and as
Captain Scott wanted to see if they had left a note at Safety Camp, I
walked up there while the tea was being brewed. It was about 1¼ miles
away, and I found traces of the party in the snow, but no note. It fed me
up to see the walls so recently occupied by our ponies, and I was glad to
leave. The afternoon march was interminable; it seemed as if we would
never reach the coast. At last we came to the Pram Point Pressure Ridges
where the Barrier joins the peninsula to eastward of Cape Armitage. They
are waves of ice up to 20 feet in height running along parallel to each
other with a valley in between each, and are only crevassed badly at the
outer end as far as we have seen, though there are smaller crevasses
right along. We camped in one of these valleys about 9.30 P.M.; I was
thoroughly tired, so I think was everybody else. We were about a mile
from the ice edge; and the problem was where to get Nobby up the
precipitous slopes. This was solved by the arrival of Evans, Atkinson,
Forde and Keohane about midnight. They had seen us coming in from the
heights, and had come down for news. Teddy Evans had arrived the day
before, and, being warned off the Barrier edge by a note left by Captain
Scott, had made for the land with his party, and one horse Jimmy Pigg. He
had found a good way up a mile or so farther east, almost under Castle
Rock. He had walked to Hut Point with Atkinson the next day and heard of
the loss of Cherry, myself and the animals from Bill Wilson and Meares
who had been left there to look after their teams. I hadn't seen Atkinson
for quite a while when we met this time.

"The next day we relayed the sledges up the slope which was about 700
feet high rising from a small bay. It was so steep that the pony could
only be led up and we had to put on crampons to grip the ice. These are
merely a sole of leather with light metal plates for foot and heel
containing spikes.
(These were altered afterwards.)
They have leather
beckets and a lanyard rove off for making them fast over the finnesko. It
took us all the morning to get everything up to the top and then it
started to blow. The camp was wonderfully sheltered. Jimmy Pigg and Nobby
were reunited after many weeks, and to show their friendliness the former
bit the latter in the back of the neck as a first introduction. Atkinson
had gone to Hut Point to reassure Uncle Bill as to our safety and arrived
again with Gran just as we got the last load up. There was no sugar at
the hut except what the dogs had brought in, so Gran, who was quite
fresh, volunteered to get a couple of bags from the depôt at Safety Camp,
which could plainly be seen out on the Barrier. We all went to the edge
of the slope to see him go down it on ski. He did it splendidly and must
have been going with the speed of an express train down the incline, as
he was on the Barrier in an incredibly short time compared to the hours
we had dragged up the same slope with the loads. Teddy, Titus and Keohane
were left at the camp to be joined by Gran later. Scott started off for
Hut Point with Crean and Cherry on his sledge, while I followed with
Forde and Atkinson. The others helped us up several hundred feet of slope
and left us under Castle Rock.

"It was here that they mistook their way in the blizzard and lost a man
from the Discovery. Though it was fine below it was blowing like anything
on the heights. I was too busily occupied to see much of the hills and
snow-slopes which I got to know so well later. It was about three miles
direct to the hut, but very up and down hill. At the last, however, you
see the Bay in panorama with Cape Armitage on one side, and Hut Point on
the other, where the Discovery lay two whole years. It is a magnificent
view from the heights and for wild desolate grandeur would take some
beating; the Western Mountains and the great dome of Mount Discovery
across the black strait of water, covered with dark frost smoke, and here
and there an iceberg driving fast towards the sea. About half a mile
below us was the little hut and, on the left, the 800-feet pyramid of
Observation Hill. It is a perfect chaos of hills and extinct craters just
here.

"It was blowing like fun. We left one sledge on the top of ski-slope and
just took what was necessary on the other, such as our bags, etc. It was
my first experience of steep downhill sledging. Instead of anybody
pulling forward we all had to hang back and guide the sledge down the
slippery incline without letting it take charge or getting upset. It is
great fun. On reaching the head of the Bay, however, we had quite a
dangerous little bit to cross. Here it was swept of snow and there was
nothing but glassy ice and the incline ended in a low ice-cliff with the
water below it. Attached as we were to the sledge we should have been at
a disadvantage had it come to swimming, which a slip might easily have
brought about. We scratched carefully across this and then headed down on
the snow, arriving at the hut all well. The old hut had changed
tremendously since I last saw it, having been dug out and cleared of snow
and ice. Two unrecognizable sweeps greeted us heartily, they were Bill
and Meares; the dogs howled a chorus for our benefit; it was quite like
coming home. Inside the hut, the cause of the blackness was apparent,
they had a blubber fire going, an open one, with no chimney or uptake for
the smoke. After such a long open-air life it fairly choked me, and for
once I could not eat a square meal. We all slept in a row against the
west wall of the hut with our feet inboard.

"The next morning Captain Scott, Bill, Cherry and I set out to walk to
Castle Rock and meet the other party. It was fairly fizzing from the sea,
but clear. Once up on the Heights, however, we seemed to get less wind. A
couple of hours later we were at the great rock, Castle Rock, which is
one of the best landmarks about here. The party in the Saddle Camp had
relayed two of the sledges up the slope; these we hauled on to the top
while the two ponies were harnessed and brought up. There were three
sledges left to take on altogether, so the ponies took one each and we
the other. Meanwhile Captain Scott walked over the shoulder under Castle
Rock to see down the Strait and came back with the intelligence that he
could hardly believe his eyes, but half the Glacier Tongue had broken off
and disappeared. This great Tongue of ice had stood there on arrival of
the Discovery, ten years before, and had remained ever since; it had a
depôt of Shackleton's on it, and Campbell had depôted his fodder on it
for us. On the eventful night of the break-up of the ice at least three
miles of the Tongue which had been considered practically terra firma had
gone, after having been there probably for centuries. We headed for the
hut: Bill had looked out a route for the ponies, to avoid slippery
places. It started to bliz, but was not too thick for us to see our
bearings. At the top of Ski Slope the ponies were taken out of the
sledges and led down a circuitous route over the rocks. The rest of us
put everything we wanted on one sledge and leaving the others up there
went down the slope as before. The two ponies arrived before us and were
stabled in the verandah.

"That night for the first time since the establishment of Safety Camp the
depôt party were all together again, minus six ponies. In concluding my
report to Captain Scott on the 'floe' incident, which he asked me to set
down long afterwards, I said, 'In reconsidering the foregoing I have come
to the conclusion that I underestimated the danger signs on the sea-ice
on February 28, and on the following day might have attached more
importance to the safety of my companions. As it was, however, all
circumstances seemed to conspire together to make the situation
unavoidable.' I did not forget to mention the splendid behaviour of
Cherry and Crean, and, for my own part, I have no regrets. I took the
blame for my lack of experience, but knew that having done everything I
could do, it did not concern me if anybody liked to criticize my action.
My own opinion is that it just had to be, the circumstances leading to it
were too devious for mere coincidence. Six hours earlier we could have
walked to the hut on sound sea-ice. A few hours later we should have seen
open water on arrival at the Barrier edge. The blizzard that knocked out
the beasts, the death of Weary, the misunderstanding of the dogs,
everything, fitted in to place us on the sea-ice during the only two
hours of the whole year that we could possibly have been in such a
position. Let those who believe in coincidence carry on believing. Nobody
will ever convince me that there was not something more. Perhaps in the
light of next year we shall see what was meant by such an apparent blow
to our hopes. Certainly we shall start for the Pole with less of that
foolish spirit of blatant boast and ridiculous blind self-assurance, that
characterized some of us on leaving Cardiff.

"Poor Captain Scott had now a new anxiety thrust upon him. The Winter
Station with ponies, stores and motors was all situated on a low beach
not twenty yards from the water's edge, and now that the ice had gone out
(and the hut was not six feet above sea-level at the floor) how had they
fared in the storm? This was a problem we could not solve without going
to see. Cape Evans, though dimly in sight, was as far off as New Zealand
till the sea froze over. The idea of attempting the shoulder of Erebus
did occur to Captain Scott, but it was so heavily crevassed as to make a
journey from our side almost impossible. On the other side Professor
David's party got up to the Summit without finding a crevasse. Captain
Scott took his reverses like a brick. I often went out for a walk with
him and sometimes he discussed his plans for next season. He took his
losses very philosophically and never blamed any of us."

This is the end of that part of Bowers' letter which deals with the
incident. Crean told me afterwards how he got on to the Barrier. He first
made for the Gap, following the best path of the ice, but then had to
retrace his steps and make for White Island jumping from floe to floe.
But then "I was pretty lively," said he: and "there were lots of penguins
and seals and killers knocking round that day."

Crean had one of the ski sticks and that "was a great help to me for
getting over the floes. It was a sloping piece like what you were on and
it was very near touching the Barrier, in one corner of it only. Well, I
dug a hole with the ski stick in the side of the Barrier for a step for
one foot, and when I finished the hole I straddled my legs and got one on
the floe and one in the side of the Barrier. Then I got the stick and dug
it in on top and I gave myself a bit of a spring and got my outside leg
up top. It was a terrible place but I thought it was the only chance.

"I made straight for Safety Camp and they must have spotted me: for I
think it was Gran that met me on skis. Then Scott and Wilson and Oates
met me a long way out: I explained how it happened. He was
worried-looking a bit, but he never said anything out of the way. He told
Oates to go inside and light the primus and give me a meal."

A more detailed account of the behaviour of the hundreds of whales which
infested the lanes of open water between the broken floes and calved
bergs is of interest. Most of them at any rate were Killer whales (Orca
gladiator), and they were cruising about in great numbers, snorting and
blowing, while occasionally they would in some extraordinary way raise
themselves and look about over the ice, resting the fore part of their
enormous yellow and black bodies on the edge of the floes. They were
undisguisedly interested in us and the ponies, and we felt that if we
once got into the water our ends would be swift and bloody.