of tracks or landmarks, we had marched seven miles without being able to
see thirty yards, and had yet hit off the direct track to a T; of course,
it was only coincidence, though some people might credit themselves with
superlative navigating powers on such evidence. The wind increased, and
with the knowledge I now have of blizzards I would camp at once. Then I
thought it better to shove on, as the ponies were marching splendidly.
The danger lay in the fact that though it is easy enough for you to
march with the wind behind, you can't march for ever and you will
probably get tired before the wind does. Camping in a stiff breeze is
always difficult, to say nothing of a gale; and for three men with five
ponies to manage would be wellnigh impossible. Fortunately for us this
was not really a blizzard, though it was quite near enough to one. The
sky broke later and showed the Bluff and White Island, and then the
scurrying clouds of drift would encircle us to break again and come on
again.

After having done seventeen miles we got a lull and stopped to camp right
away. We were pretty quick about it, and fortunately got the ponies
picketed, and tent pitched, before the wind came down on us again. We
were pretty hungry by the time the walls were erected. Still we were
quite happy, ate everything we could get, except the three lumps of sugar
I always kept for old Uncle Bill out of my whack. The little blow blew
itself out towards evening and in perfect calm and sunshine I got a
splendid set of observations. Erebus and Terror were showing up as clear
as a bell and I got a large number of angles for Evans' survey. We
started out as usual, and had the most pleasant, as well as the longest,
of our return marches on the last day of summer, February 22. We did
eighteen miles right off the reel, the sun was brilliant from midnight
onwards. He now half immersed himself below the horizon for a short
interval once in 24 hours. All old cairns were visible a tremendous
distance, six or seven miles at least for big ones. Mount Terror lay
straight ahead and looked so clear that it seemed impossible to imagine
it 70 miles away. At the end of our march we saw a small cairn beyond our
8th outward camp mound. Nobody would have rigged up another cairn so
close without an object, so the thought of a dead horse flashed through
my mind at once. Titus was so sure that Bluecher would never get back,
that he had bet Gran a biscuit on it. I saw the cairn