om the store: chocolates,
cigarettes, cigars, and all manner of luxury placed in readiness.

The ship was specially scrubbed and cleaned, yards were squared, ropes
hauled taut and neatly coiled down, and our best Jacks and Ensigns
hoisted in gala fashion to meet and acclaim our leader and our comrades.
Glasses were levelled on the beach, and soon we discerned little men
running hither and thither in wild excitement; a lump stuck in my throat
at the idea of greeting the Polar Party with the knowledge that Amundsen
had anticipated us, it was something like having to congratulate a dear
friend on winning second prize in a great hard won race--which is exactly
what it was. But it was not even to be that: the ship rapidly closed the
beach, engines were stopped, and a thrill of excitement ran through us.
The shore party gave three cheers, which we on board replied to, and
espying Campbell I was overjoyed, for I feared more on his behalf than on
the others, owing to the small amount of provisions he had left him at
Evans Coves. I shouted out, "Campbell, is every one well," and after a
moment's hesitation he replied, "The Southern Party reached the South
Pole on the 17th January, last year, but were all lost on the return
journey--we have their records." It was a moment of hush and overwhelming
sorrow--a great stillness ran through the ship's little company and
through the party on shore.

I have been reminded of it particularly on the anniversaries of Armistice
Day.

The great silence was broken by the order to let the anchor fall: the
splash which followed and the rattle of the chain gave us relief, and
then Campbell and Atkinson came off in a boat to tell us in detail how
misfortune after misfortune had befallen our leader and his four brave
comrades. Slowly and with infinite sadness the flags were lowered from
the mastheads and Scott's little "Terra Nova" stood bareheaded at the
Gate of the Great Ice Barrier.

From the bridge one heard the occasional clatter of plates and cutlery,
for the steward was busy removing the table dressings and putting away
the things that we had no heart for any longer. The undelivered letters
were taken out of the bunks, which had been spread with white clean linen
for our chief and the Polar team, and Drake sealed them up for return to
the wives and mothers who had given up so much in order that their men
might achieve.

A great cross was now carved of Australian jarrah, on which was carve