Monday, November 8, 2010

8 November, 1911

Most of the party were against our setting off later last night. I insisted, so just after midnight we got away. The ponies were friskier than I had expected, and managed their march with no trouble at all. One gains confidence every moment in them. Well, Christopher gives as much trouble as ever; Oates has to hang on like grim death lest he kick and take off; he hates being put into the harness. At one point, Bowers loaded 100lbs of forage onto his sledge, and Victor took off as if nothing had been added. Such events are very inspiring.

We are picking up last year's cairns with great ease, all show up very easily. This is extremely satisfactory for our homeward march. What with pony walls, camp sites and cairns, our track should be easily followable the whole way. Everyone is as fit as can be. It was wonderfully warm as we camped this morning at 11o'clock; the wind dropped completely and the sun shines gloriously. Men and ponies revel in such weather. One devoutly hopes for a good spell of it as we recede from the windy northern region.

The dogs came up soon after we had camped, traveling easily.

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