Little Bowers remains a marvel—­he is thoroughly enjoying himself.  I leave all the provision arrangement in his hands, and at all times he knows exactly how we stand, or how each returning party should fare.  It has been a complicated business to redistribute stores at various stages of re-organisation, but not one single mistake has been made.  In addition to the stores, he keeps the most thorough and conscientious meteorological record, and to this he now adds the duty of observer and photographer.  Nothing comes amiss to him, and no work is too hard.  It is a difficulty to get him into the tent; he seems quite oblivious of the cold, and he lies coiled in his bag writing and working out sights long after the others are asleep.

Of these three it is a matter for thought and congratulation that each is sufficiently suited for his own work, but would not be capable of doing that of the others as well as it is done.  Each is invaluable.  Oates had his invaluable period with the ponies; now he is a foot slogger and goes hard the whole time, does his share of camp work, and stands the hardship as well as any of us.  I would not like to be without him either.  So our five people are perhaps as happily selected as it is possible to imagine.

Tuesday, January 9.—­Camp 61.  RECORD.  Lat. 88 deg. 25’.  Height 10,270 ft.  Bar. risen I think.  T. -4 deg..  Still blowing, and drifting when we got to breakfast, but signs of taking off.  The wind had gradually shifted from south to E.S.E.  After lunch we were able to break camp in a bad light, but on a good surface.  We made a very steady afternoon march, covering 6 1/2, miles (geo.).  This should place us in Lat. 88 deg. 25’, beyond the record of Shackleton’s walk.  All is new ahead.  The barometer has risen since the blizzard, and it looks as though we were on a level plateau, not to rise much further.

Obs.:  Long. 159 deg. 17’ 45’’ E.; Var. 179 deg. 55’ W.; Min.  Temp. -7.2 deg..

More curiously the temperature continued to rise after the blow and now, at -4 deg., it seems quite warm.  The sun has only shown very indistinctly all the afternoon, although brighter now.  Clouds are still drifting over from the east.  The marching is growing terribly monotonous, but one cannot grumble as long as the distance can be kept up.  It can, I think, if we leave a depot, but a very annoying thing has happened.  Bowers’ watch has suddenly dropped 26 minutes; it may have stopped from being frozen outside his pocket, or he may have inadvertently touched the hands.  Any way it makes one more chary of leaving stores on this great plain, especially as the blizzard tended to drift up our tracks.  We could only just see the back track when we started, but the light was extremely poor.