The dogs are very tired to-night.  I have definitely handed the control of the second team to Wilson.  He was very eager to have it and will do well I’m sure—­but certainly also the dogs will not pull heavy loads—­500 pounds proved a back-breaking load for 11 dogs to-day—­they brought it at a snail’s pace.  Meares has estimated to give them two-thirds of a pound of biscuit a day.  I have felt sure he will find this too little.

The ponies are doing excellently.  Their loads run up to 800 and 900 lbs. and they make very light of them.  Oates said he could have gone on for some time to-night.

Saturday, January 28.—­Camp 2.  The ponies went back for the last load at Camp 1, and I walked south to find a way round the great pressure ridge.  The sea ice south is covered with confused irregular sastrugi well remembered from Discovery days.  The pressure ridge is new.  The broken ice of the ridge ended east of the spot I approached and the pressure was seen only in a huge domed wave, the hollow of which on my left was surrounded with a countless number of seals—­these lay about sleeping or apparently gambolling in the shallow water.  I imagine the old ice in this hollow has gone well under and that the seals have a pool above it which may be warmer on such a bright day.

It was evident that the ponies could be brought round by this route, and I returned to camp to hear that one of the ponies (Keohane’s) had gone lame.  The Soldier took a gloomy view of the situation, but he is not an optimist.  It looks as though a tendon had been strained, but it is not at all certain.  Bowers’ pony is also weak in the forelegs, but we knew this before:  it is only a question of how long he will last.  The pity is that he is an excellently strong pony otherwise.  Atkinson has a bad heel and laid up all day—­his pony was tied behind another sledge, and went well, a very hopeful sign.

In the afternoon I led the ponies out 2 3/4 miles south to the crossing of the pressure ridge, then east 1 1/4 till we struck the barrier edge and ascended it.  Going about 1/2 mile in we dumped the loads—­the ponies sank deep just before the loads were dropped, but it looked as though the softness was due to some rise in the surface.

We saw a dark object a quarter of a mile north as we reached the Barrier.  I walked over and found it to be the tops of two tents more than half buried—­Shackleton’s tents we suppose.  A moulting Emperor penguin was sleeping between them.  The canvas on one tent seemed intact, but half stripped from the other.

The ponies pulled splendidly to-day, as also the dogs, but we have decided to load both lightly from now on, to march them easily, and to keep as much life as possible in them.  There is much to be learnt as to their powers of performance.

Keohane says ‘Come on, lad, you’ll be getting to the Pole’ by way of cheering his animal—­all the party is cheerful, there never were a better set of people.