shelter built
up round him. We did not know at this time of the pony disaster, but,
thinking Captain Scott might be anxious if he got no word as to our
whereabouts or movements, Atkinson and I started to march along the ice
ridges of Castle Rock and make our way to Hut Point. It was blowing hard
and very cold, but the joy of walking on firm ice without a sledge to
drag was great. When finally we came to the old "Discovery" hut at lunch
time, we found Wilson, Meares, and Gran in very low spirits. They told us
that Bowers and Cherry-Garrard were adrift on an ice floe and the
remainder of the party had gone to the rescue along the Barrier edge. We
were much downcast by this news, and after a meal of biscuit and tea,
started back for our camp. The weather was now clearer, and we could see
some way out over the Barrier; we could also see the sea looking very
blue against the white expanse of ice.

On the way back we discussed a plan and arranged that we should leave
Keohane with the pony, take a sledge, and make our way along the ice edge
of the Barrier searching for Scott and joining up with him, but just
before descending to the hollow where our tent was we spied a sledge
party on the Barrier and, on reaching our camp, were delighted to see
through my telescope six men. Thank God! This meant that all were safe.
We went out to meet the party, reaching them about 8 p.m. where they had
camped, a couple of miles from Cape Armitage, between two pressure ridges
that formed great frozen waves. Bowers told me that when Scott's party
attempted to save the horses at the Barrier edge, rotten ice and open
water leads were the cause of their downfall, and when the horses slipped
into the sea, that he had been compelled to kill his own pony with a
pickaxe to save him being taken alive by one of the Orcas or Killer
whales. The only horse saved was Captain Scott's, one of the best we had
in that Expedition.

I think the Irish sailors must have spoilt James Pigg, for, when
eventually we got Scott's sledge loads up to the hill-crest where our
camp was, James Pigg, instead of welcoming the other pony, broke adrift,
and jumping into the new-comer's shelter, leapt on him, kicked him and
bit him in the back. On March 5 we all started for Hut Point, having
previously sent in Atkinson with the good news that no men's lives were
lost. Wilson and party met us near Castle Rock and led the ponies in
while we dropped the laden sledges, full of pony