sleeping-bags in the morning we stuffed our personal
gear into the mouth of the bag before it could freeze: this made a plug
which when removed formed a frozen hole for us to push into as a start in
the evening.

We got into some strange knots when trying to persuade our limbs into our
bags, and suffered terribly from cramp in consequence. We would wait and
rub, but directly we tried to move again down it would come and grip our
legs in a vice. We also, especially Bowers, suffered agony from cramp in
the stomach. We let the primus burn on after supper now for a time--it
was the only thing which kept us going--and when one who was holding the
primus was seized with cramp we hastily took the lamp from him until the
spasm was over. It was horrible to see Birdie's stomach cramp sometimes:
he certainly got it much worse than Bill or I. I suffered a lot from
heartburn especially in my bag at nights: we were eating a great
proportion of fat and this was probably the cause. Stupidly I said
nothing about it for a long time. Later when Bill found out, he soon made
it better with the medical case.

Birdie always lit the candle in the morning--so called and this was an
heroic business. Moisture collected on our matches if you looked at them.
Partly I suppose it was bringing them from outside into a comparatively
warm tent; partly from putting boxes into pockets in our clothing.
Sometimes it was necessary to try four or five boxes before a match
struck. The temperature of the boxes and matches was about a hundred
degrees of frost, and the smallest touch of the metal on naked flesh
caused a frost-bite. If you wore mitts you could scarcely feel
anything--especially since the tips of our fingers were already very
callous. To get the first light going in the morning was a beastly cold
business, made worse by having to make sure that it was at last time to
get up. Bill insisted that we must lie in our bags seven hours every
night.

In civilization men are taken at their own valuation because there are so
many ways of concealment, and there is so little time, perhaps even so
little understanding. Not so down South. These two men went through the
Winter Journey and lived: later they went through the Polar Journey and
died. They were gold, pure, shining, unalloyed. Words cannot express how
good their companionship was.

Through all these days, and those which were to follow, the worst I
suppose in their dark severity that men have ever