The journey enables me to advise the Geological Party on their best route to Granite Harbour:  this is along the shore, where for the main part the protection of a chain of grounded bergs has preserved the ice from all pressure.  Outside these, and occasionally reaching to the headlands, there is a good deal of pressed up ice of this season, together with the latest of the old broken pack.  Travelling through this is difficult, as we found on our return journey.  Beyond this belt we passed through irregular patches where the ice, freezing at later intervals in the season, has been much screwed.  The whole shows the general tendency of the ice to pack along the coast.

The objects of our little journey were satisfactorily accomplished, but the greatest source of pleasure to me is to realise that I have such men as Bowers and P.O.  Evans for the Southern journey.  I do not think that harder men or better sledge travellers ever took the trail.  Bowers is a little wonder.  I realised all that he must have done for the C. Crozier Party in their far severer experience.

In spite of the late hour of our return everyone was soon afoot, and I learned the news at once.  E.R.  Evans, Gran, and Forde had returned from the Corner Camp journey the day after we left.  They were away six nights, four spent on the Barrier under very severe conditions—­the minimum for one night registered -73 deg..

I am glad to find that Corner Camp showed up well; in fact, in more than one place remains of last year’s pony walls were seen.  This removes all anxiety as to the chance of finding the One Ton Camp.

On this journey Forde got his hand badly frostbitten.  I am annoyed at this, as it argues want of care; moreover there is a good chance that the tip of one of the fingers will be lost, and if this happens or if the hand is slow in recovery, Forde cannot take part in the Western Party.  I have no one to replace him.

E.R.  Evans looks remarkably well, as also Gran.

The ponies look very well and all are reported to be very buckish.

Wednesday, October 3.—­We have had a very bad weather spell.  Friday, the day after we returned, was gloriously fine—­it might have been a December day, and an inexperienced visitor might have wondered why on earth we had not started to the South, Saturday supplied a reason; the wind blew cold and cheerless; on Sunday it grew worse, with very thick snow, which continued to fall and drift throughout the whole of Monday.  The hut is more drifted up than it has ever been, huge piles of snow behind every heap of boxes, &c., all our paths a foot higher; yet in spite of this the rocks are rather freer of snow.  This is due to melting, which is now quite considerable.  Wilson tells me the first signs of thaw were seen on the 17th.

Yesterday the weather gradually improved, and to-day has been fine and warm again.  One fine day in eight is the record immediately previous to this morning.