and, but for some cloud to the S.E., everything promising.  At 2.15 I saw the south-easterly cloud spreading up; it blotted out the land 30 miles away at 2.30 and was on us before 3.  The sun went out, snow fell thickly, and marching conditions became horrible.  The wind increased from the S.E., changed to S.W., where it hung for a time, and suddenly shifted to W.N.W. and then N.N.W., from which direction it is now blowing with falling and drifting snow.  The changes of conditions are inconceivably rapid, perfectly bewildering.  In spite of all these difficulties we have managed to get 11 1/2 miles south and to this camp at 7 P.M.-the conditions of marching simply horrible.

The man-haulers led out 6 miles (geo.) and then camped.  I think they had had enough of leading.  We passed them, Bowers and I ahead on ski.  We steered with compass, the drifting snow across our ski, and occasional glimpse of south-easterly sastrugi under them, till the sun showed dimly for the last hour or so.  The whole weather conditions seem thoroughly disturbed, and if they continue so when we are on the Glacier, we shall be very awkwardly placed.  It is really time the luck turned in our favour—­we have had all too little of it.  Every mile seems to have been hardly won under such conditions.  The ponies did splendidly and the forage is lasting a little better than expected.  Victor was found to have quite a lot of fat on him and the others are pretty certain to have more, so that vwe should have no difficulty whatever as regards transport if only the weather was kind.

Monday, December 4.—­Camp 29, 9 A.M.  I roused the party at 6.  During the night the wind had changed from N.N.W. to S.S.E.; it was not strong, but the sun was obscured and the sky looked heavy; patches of land could be faintly seen and we thought that at any rate we could get on, but during breakfast the wind suddenly increased in force and afterwards a glance outside was sufficient to show a regular white floury blizzard.  We have all been out building fresh walls for the ponies—­an uninviting task, but one which greatly adds to the comfort of the animals, who look sleepy and bored, but not at all cold.  The dogs came up with us as we camped last night arid the man-haulers arrived this morning as we finished the pony wall.  So we are all together again.  The latter had great difficulty in following our tracks, and say they could not have steered a course without them.  It is utterly impossible to push ahead in this weather, and one is at a complete loss to account for it.  The barometer rose from 29.4 to 29.9 last night, a phenomenal rise.  Evidently there is very great disturbance of atmospheric conditions.  Well, one must stick it out, that is all, and hope for better things, but it makes me feel a little bitter to contrast such weather with that experienced by our predecessors.