ich he afterwards painted at
Winter Quarters. The majority were taken from the summit of Observation
Hill, crouching under the lee of the rocks into which, nearly two years
after, we built the Cross which now stands to commemorate his death and
that of his companions. He sketched quickly with bare fingers and
mittened hands, jotting down the outlines of hills and clouds, and
pencilling in the colours by name. After a minute, more or less, the
fingers become too cold for such work, and they must be put back into the
wool and fur mitts until they are again warm enough to continue. Pencil
and sketch book, a Winsor and Newton, were carried in a little
blubber-stained wallet on his belt. Scott carried his sledge diaries in
similar books in a similar wallet made of green Willesden canvas and
fastened with a lanyard.

There was a good fug in the hut by dinner time: this was a mixed
blessing. It was good for our gear: sleeping-bags, finnesko, mitts, socks
were all hung up and dried, most necessary after sledging, and most
important for the preservation of the skins; but it also started the most
infernal drip-drip from the roof. I have spoken of the double roof of the
old Discovery hut. This was still full of solid ice; indeed some time
afterwards a large portion of it fell, but luckily the inhabitants were
outside. The immediate problem was to prevent the leaks falling on
ourselves, our food or our clothing and bags. And so every tin was
brought into use and hung from leaky spots, while water chutes came into
their own. As the stove cooled so did the drip cease, and in no
prehistoric cavern did more stalactites and stalagmites grow apace.

On March 16 the last sledge party to the Barrier that season started for
Corner Camp with provisions to increase the existing depot there. The
party was in charge of Lieutenant Evans, and consisted of Bowers, Oates,
Atkinson, Wright, and myself, with two seamen, Crean and Forde. The
journey out and back took eight days and was uneventful as sledge
journeys go. Thick weather prevailed for several days, and after running
down our distance to Corner Camp we waited for it to clear. We found
ourselves six miles from the depot and among crevasses, which goes to
show how easy it is to steer off the course under such conditions, and
how creditable the navigation is when a course is kept correctly,
sometimes more by instinct than by skill.

But we got our first experience of cold weather sledging wh