ly the other ponies escaped and we were
the last. Some 2 miles from our present position the cracks appeared to
cease, and in the last march we have got on to quite a hard surface on
which the ponies drag their loads with great ease. This part seems to
be swept by the winds which so continually sweep round Cape Crozier,
and therefore it is doubtful if it extends far to the south, but for
the present the going should be good. Had bright moonshine for the
march, but now the sky has clouded and it looks threatening to the
south. I think we may have a blizzard, though the wind is northerly
at present.

The ponies are in very good form; 'James Pigg' remarkably recovered
from his lameness.

8 P.M.--It is blowing a blizzard--wind moderate--temperature mild.

_Impressions_

The deep, dreamless sleep that follows the long march and the
satisfying supper.

The surface crust which breaks with a snap and sinks with a snap,
startling men and animals.

Custom robs it of dread but not of interest to the dogs, who come to
imagine such sounds as the result of some strange freak of hidden
creatures. They become all alert and spring from side to side,
hoping to catch the creature. The hope clings in spite of continual
disappointment._13_

A dog must be either eating, asleep, or _interested_. His eagerness
to snatch at interest, to chain his attention to something, is almost
pathetic. The monotony of marching kills him.

This is the fearfullest difficulty for the dog driver on a snow plain
without leading marks or objects in sight. The dog is almost human
in its demand for living interest, yet fatally less than human in
its inability to foresee.

The dog lives for the day, the hour, even the moment. The human being
can live and support discomfort for a future.

_Sunday, February_ 5.--Corner Camp, No. 6. The blizzard descended on
us at about 4 P.M. yesterday; for twenty-four hours it continued with
moderate wind, then the wind shifting slightly to the west came with
much greater violence. Now it is blowing very hard and our small frail
tent is being well tested. One imagines it cannot continue long as at
present, but remembers our proximity to Cape Crozier and the length
of the blizzards recorded in that region. As usual we sleep and eat,
conversing as cheerfully as may be in the intervals. There is scant
news of our small outside world--only a report of comfort and a rumour
that Bowers' pony has eaten one of its putties!!