Wednesday, January 5, 2011

4 January, 1912

Camp 57

We were naturally late getting away this morning, the sledge having to be packed and arrangements completed for separation of parties. It is wonderful to see how neatly everything stows on a little sledge, thanks to PO Evans. (He's still favoring one hand._ I was anxious to see how we could pull it, and glad to find we went easy enough. Bowers on foot pulls between, but behind, Wilson and myself; he has to keep his own pace and luckily does not throw us out at all. Oates looks grumpy and limps a little.

The second party had followed us in case of accident, but as soon I was certain we could get along we stopped and said farewell. Teddy Evans is terribly disappointed but has taken it very well and behaved like a man.  Poor old Crean wept and even Lashly was affected. I was glad to find their sledge is a mere nothing to them, and thus, no doubt, they will make a quick journey back. (Assuming of course that none of them gets Scurvy like bloody Shackleton!)

In the afternoon the wind died away, and tonight it is flat calm; the sun so warm that in spite of the temperature we can stand about outside with the greatest comfort. It is amusing to stand thus and remember the constant horrors of our situation as they were painted for us; the sun is melting the snow on the ski, etc. The plateau is now very flat, but we are still ascending slowly.

I wonder what is in store for us.At present everything seems to be going with extraordinary smoothness, and one can scarcely believe that obstacles will not present themselves to make our task more difficult.

Perhaps the surface will be the element to trouble us.

Or maybe not.

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