the tense quiet of the moment left its mark on the
memories of our party for ever. Little absurd details attracted all our
attention, for instance, I noticed the ruts in the cheeks of my grimy
_vis-a-vis_, for Crean had recently clipped his beard and whiskers. My
gaze was also riveted on a cut, or rather open crack caused in one of his
lips by the combined sun and wind. Thousands of little fleeting thoughts
chased one another through our brains, as we afterwards found by
comparison, and finally we were so close to Lashly that he could touch
the sledge. He reached down, for the bridge was depressed somewhat where
it met the slope on which he sat.

He held on tight, and somehow Crean and I wriggled off the bridge,
sticking our crampons firmly into the ice and crawling up to where Lashly
was. We all three held on to the Alpine line, and in some extraordinary
fashion got to the top of the ridge, where we anchored ourselves and
prepared to haul up the sledge. As I said before, it weighed about 400
lb., and to three exhausted men the strain which came upon us when we
hauled the sledge off the bridge tested us to the limit of our strength.
The wretched thing slipped sideways and capsized on the slope, nearly
dragging us down into that icy chasm, but our combined efforts saved us,
and once again the perils of the moment were forgotten as we got into our
sledge harness and started to make the best of our way to the depot.

By now we were exhausted, rudely shaken, and our eyes were smarting with
the glare and the glint of the sun's reflections from that awful maze of
ice falls. I felt my heart would burst from the sustained effort of
launching that sledge, which now seemed to weigh a ton. There seemed no
way out of this confused mass of pressure ridges and, crevasses. We were
"all out," and come what may I had to change our tactics, accordingly I
ordered a halt. No room could be found to pitch our tent and I could not
see any possibility of saving my party. We could stagger on no farther
with the dreadfully heavy sledge. The prospect was hopeless and our food
was nearly gone. Some rest must be obtained to give us strength for this
absolute battle for life. The great strain of the day's efforts had
thoroughly exhausted us, and it took me back to the last day of the
December blizzard which caused the eventual loss of the Polar Party and
the ruin of Captain Scott's so excellently laid plans. I remembered the
poor ponies after their