The sky is clearing but the wind still gusty, force 4 to 7; the ice has frozen a little and we’ve made no progress since noon.

9 P.M.—­One of the ponies went down to-night.  He has been down before.  It may mean nothing; on the other hand it is not a circumstance of good omen.

Otherwise there is nothing further to record, and I close this volume of my Journal under circumstances which cannot be considered cheerful.

A FRESH MS. BOOK. 1910-11.

[On the Flyleaf]

’And in regions far
Such heroes bring ye forth
As those from whom we came
And plant our name
Under that star
Not known unto our North.’

‘To the Virginian Voyage.’

DRAYTON.

’But be the workemen what they may be, let us speake of the worke; that is, the true greatnesse of Kingdom and estates; and the meanes thereof.’

BACON.

Still in the Ice

Wednesday, December 28, 1910.—­Obs.  Noon, 69 deg. 17’ S., 179 deg. 42’ W. Made good since 26th S. 74 W. 31’; C. Crozier S. 22 W. 530’.  The gale has abated.  The sky began to clear in the middle watch; now we have bright, cheerful, warm sunshine (temp. 28 deg.).  The wind lulled in the middle watch and has fallen to force 2 to 3.  We made 1 1/2 miles in the middle and have added nearly a mile since.  This movement has brought us amongst floes of decidedly smaller area and the pack has loosened considerably.  A visit to the crow’s nest shows great improvement in the conditions.  There is ice on all sides, but a large percentage of the floes is quite thin and even the heavier ice appears breakable.  It is only possible to be certain of conditions for three miles or so—­the limit of observation from the crow’s nest; but as far as this limit there is no doubt the ship could work through with ease.  Beyond there are vague signs of open water in the southern sky.  We have pushed and drifted south and west during the gale and are now near the 180th meridian again.  It seems impossible that we can be far from the southern limit of the pack.

On strength of these observations we have decided to raise steam.  I trust this effort will carry us through.

The pony which fell last night has now been brought out into the open.  The poor beast is in a miserable condition, very thin, very weak on the hind legs, and suffering from a most irritating skin affection which is causing its hair to fall out in great quantities.  I think a day or so in the open will help matters; one or two of the other ponies under the forecastle are also in poor condition, but none so bad as this one.  Oates is unremitting in his attention and care of the animals, but I don’t think he quite realises that whilst in the pack the ship must remain steady and that, therefore, a certain limited scope for movement and exercise is afforded by the open deck on which the sick animal now stands.