ward journey.

_Monday, March_ 19.--Lunch. We camped with difficulty last night,
and were dreadfully cold till after our supper of cold pemmican and
biscuit and a half a pannikin of cocoa cooked over the spirit. Then,
contrary to expectation, we got warm and all slept well. To-day we
started in the usual dragging manner. Sledge dreadfully heavy. We are
15 1/2 miles from the depot and ought to get there in three days. What
progress! We have two days' food but barely a day's fuel. All our
feet are getting bad--Wilson's best, my right foot worst, left all
right. There is no chance to nurse one's feet till we can get hot
food into us. Amputation is the least I can hope for now, but will
the trouble spread? That is the serious question. The weather doesn't
give us a chance--the wind from N. to N.W. and -40 deg. temp, to-day.

_Wednesday, March_ 11.--Got within 11 miles of depot Monday night;
[47] had to lay up all yesterday in severe blizzard._27_ To-day
forlorn hope, Wilson and Bowers going to depot for
fuel.

_Thursday, March_ 22 _and_ 23.--Blizzard bad as ever--Wilson and
Bowers unable to start--to-morrow last chance--no fuel and only one
or two of food left--must be near the end. Have decided it shall be
natural--we shall march for the depot with or without our effects
and die in our tracks.

_Thursday, March_ 29.--Since the 21st we have had a continuous gale
from W.S.W. and S.W. We had fuel to make two cups of tea apiece and
bare food for two days on the 20th. Every day we have been ready to
start for our depot _11 miles_ away, but outside the door of the tent
it remains a scene of whirling drift. I do not think we can hope for
any better things now. We shall stick it out to the end, but we are
getting weaker, of course, and the end cannot be far.

It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more.

R. SCOTT.

For God's sake look after our people.

------------

Wilson and Bowers were found in the attitude of sleep, their
sleeping-bags closed over their heads as they would naturally close
them.

Scott died later. He had thrown back the flaps of his sleeping-bag
and opened his coat. The little wallet containing the three notebooks
was under his shoulders and his arm flung across Wilson. So they were
found eight months later.

With the diaries in the tent were found the following letters:

TO MRS. E. A. WILSON

MY DEAR MRS. WILSON,

If this letter reaches you Bill and I will have gone out to