We reached Safety Camp (dist. 14 miles) at 4.30 A.M.; found Evans and his party in excellent health, but, alas! with only ONE pony.  As far as I can gather Forde’s pony only got 4 miles back from the Bluff Camp; then a blizzard came on, and in spite of the most tender care from Forde the pony sank under it.  Evans says that Forde spent hours with the animal trying to keep it going, feeding it, walking it about; at last he returned to the tent to say that the poor creature had fallen; they all tried to get it on its feet again but their efforts were useless.  It couldn’t stand, and soon after it died.

Then the party marched some 10 miles, but the blizzard had had a bad effect on Blossom—­it seemed to have shrivelled him up, and now he was terribly emaciated.  After this march he could scarcely move.  Evans describes his efforts as pathetic; he got on 100 yards, then stopped with legs outstretched and nose to the ground.  They rested him, fed him well, covered him with rugs; but again all efforts were unavailing.  The last stages came with painful detail.  So Blossom is also left on the Southern Road.

The last pony, James Pigg, as he is called, has thriven amazingly—­of course great care has been taken with him and he is now getting full feed and very light work, so he ought to do well.  The loss is severe; but they were the two oldest ponies of our team and the two which Oates thought of least use.

Atkinson and Crean have departed, leaving no trace—­not even a note.

Crean had carried up a good deal of fodder, and some seal meat was found buried.

After a few hours’ sleep we are off for Hut Point.

There are certain points in night marching, if only for the glorious light effects which the coming night exhibits.

Wednesday, February 22.—­10 P.M.  Safety Camp.  Turned out at 11 this morning after 4 hours’ sleep.

Wilson, Meares, Evans, Cherry-Garrard, and I went to Hut Point.  Found a great enigma.  The hut was cleared and habitable—­but no one was there.  A pencil line on the wall said that a bag containing a mail was inside, but no bag could be found.  We puzzled much, then finally decided on the true solution, viz. that Atkinson and Crean had gone towards Safety Camp as we went to Hut Point—­later we saw their sledge track leading round on the sea ice.  Then we returned towards Safety Camp and endured a very bad hour in which we could see the two bell tents but not the domed.  It was an enormous relief to find the dome securely planted, as the ice round Cape Armitage is evidently very weak; I have never seen such enormous water holes off it.

But every incident of the day pales before the startling contents of the mail bag which Atkinson gave me—­a letter from Campbell setting out his doings and the finding of Amundsen established in the Bay of Whales.

One thing only fixes itself definitely in my mind.  The proper, as well as the wiser, course for us is to proceed exactly as though this had not happened.  To go forward and do our best for the honour of the country without fear or panic.