rs creditably. The thermometer showed -19.8
degrees on camping, and temperature fell to -25 degrees during the night.

October 28 was my birthday; all hands wished me many happy returns of the
day, and I was given letters from my wife and from Forde and Keohane, who
somehow remembered the date from last year--these two, with Browning and
Dickason, I had brought into the Expedition from H.M.S. "Talbot," one of
my old ships. But to continue: we were all ready to start at 11 a.m. in a
stiff, cold breeze, when I discovered that my personal bag had been taken
off by the man-hauling party that came to assist us, so I put on ski and
went to Hut Point, six miles back. I found Meares there, and he gave me a
surprised but hearty welcome and wished me "Happy returns, Teddy." I
explained what had happened; it had been done of course the night before
when my namesake had taken my personal bag in to Hut Point from Cape
Armitage to save me the trouble of carrying it after a hard day's work
with the motors. As I had had no need of it, I never noticed its presence
at Hut Point, so there it was. Meares made me laugh by an in the most
friendly way, as if I was calling on him in his English home, "Stay and
have lunch, won't you, Teddy?" Of course I did, but as I was wanted by
the Motor Party it was a somewhat hurried meal, fried seal liver and
bacon. We were not allowed to eat bacon on account of scurvy precaution,
but still, it was my birthday, and nobody let me forget it. Feeling much
better and less angry after this unlooked for ski-run, I swung out to the
Barrier edge, over the sea ice, up the Barrier slope, and on to the
Barrier itself, where I picked up the tracks of the motors and followed
them for seven miles. I remember that ski run well: I felt so very lonely
all by myself on the silent Barrier, surrounded as I was by lofty white
mountains, which lifted their summits to the blue peaceful heavens. I
thought over the future of the Southern Party and wondered how things
would be one year hence; this was indeed facing the unknown. I enjoyed
the keen air, and the crisp surface was so easy to negotiate after my
former Barrier visits with a heavy sledge dragging one back, but the very
easiness I was enjoying made me think of Amundsen and his dogs.

If the Norwegians could glide along like this, it would be "good-bye" to
our hopes of planting Queen Alexandra's flag first at the South Pole. As
a matter of fact, while I was then making my w