Monday, January 8.—­Camp 60.  Noon.  T. -19.8 deg..  Min. for night -25 deg..  Our first summit blizzard.  We might just have started after breakfast, but the wind seemed obviously on the increase, and so has proved.  The sun has not been obscured, but snow is evidently falling as well as drifting.  The sun seems to be getting a little brighter as the wind increases.  The whole phenomenon is very like a Barrier blizzard, only there is much less snow, as one would expect, and at present less wind, which is somewhat of a surprise.

Evans’ hand was dressed this morning, and the rest ought to be good for it.  I am not sure it will not do us all good as we lie so very comfortably, warmly clothed in our comfortable bags, within our double-walled tent.  However, we do not want more than a day’s delay at most, both on account of lost time and food and the snow accumulation of ice. (Night T. -13.5 deg..) It has grown much thicker during the day, from time to time obscuring the sun for the first time.  The temperature is low for a blizzard, but we are very comfortable in our double tent and the cold snow is not sticky and not easily carried into the tent, so that the sleeping-bags remain in good condition. (T. -3 deg..) The glass is rising slightly.  I hope we shall be able to start in the morning, but fear that a disturbance of this sort may last longer than our local storm.

It is quite impossible to speak too highly of my companions.  Each fulfils his office to the party; Wilson, first as doctor, ever on the lookout to alleviate the small pains and troubles incidental to the work, now as cook, quick, careful and dexterous, ever thinking of some fresh expedient to help the camp life; tough as steel on the traces, never wavering from start to finish.

Evans, a giant worker with a really remarkable headpiece.  It is only now I realise how much has been due to him.  Our ski shoes and crampons have been absolutely indispensable, and if the original ideas were not his, the details of manufacture and design and the good workmanship are his alone.  He is responsible for every sledge, every sledge fitting, tents, sleeping-bags, harness, and when one cannot recall a single expression of dissatisfaction with any one of these items, it shows what an invaluable assistant he has been.  Now, besides superintending the putting up of the tent, he thinks out and arranges the packing of the sledge; it is extraordinary how neatly and handily everything is stowed, and how much study has been given to preserving the suppleness and good running qualities of the machine.  On the Barrier, before the ponies were killed, he was ever roaming round, correcting faults of stowage.