y. At intervals he blew the
whistle.

He danced the Lancers with Anton, and Anton, whose dancing puts that of
the Russian Ballet into the shade, continually apologized for not being
able to do it well enough. Ponting gave a great lecture with slides which
he had made since we arrived, many of which Meares had coloured. When one
of these came up one of us would shout, "Who coloured that," and another
would cry, "Meares,"--then uproar. It was impossible for Ponting to
speak. We had a milk punch, when Scott proposed the Eastern Party, and
Clissold, the cook, proposed Good Old True Milk. Titus blew away the
ball of his gun. "I blew it into the cerulean--how doth Homer have
it?--cerulean azure--hence Erebus." As we turned in he said, "Cherry, are
you responsible for your actions?" and when I said Yes, he blew loudly on
his whistle, and the last thing I remembered was that he woke up Meares
to ask him whether he was fancy free.

It was a magnificent bust.

* * * * *

Five days later and three men, one of whom at any rate is feeling a
little frightened, stand panting and sweating out in McMurdo Sound. They
have two sledges, one tied behind the other, and these sledges are piled
high with sleeping-bags and camping equipment, six weeks' provisions, and
a venesta case full of scientific gear for pickling and preserving. In
addition there is a pickaxe, ice-axes, an Alpine rope, a large piece of
green Willesden canvas and a bit of board. Scott's amazed remark when he
saw our sledges two hours ago, "Bill, why are you taking all this oil?"
pointing to the six cans lashed to the tray on the second sledge, had a
bite in it. Our weights for such travelling are enormous--253 lbs. a man.

It is mid-day but it is pitchy dark, and it is not warm.

As we rested my mind went back to a dusty, dingy office in Victoria
Street some fifteen months ago. "I want you to come," said Wilson to me,
and then, "I want to go to Cape Crozier in the winter and work out the
embryology of the Emperor penguins, but I'm not saying much about it--it
might never come off." Well! this was better than Victoria Street, where
the doctors had nearly refused to let me go because I could only see the
people across the road as vague blobs walking. Then Bill went and had a
talk with Scott about it, and they said I might come if I was prepared to
take the additional risk. At that time I would have taken anything.

After the Depot Journe