crevasses and holes was ticklish work, but we tethered them safely off the Terra Nova, which meanwhile was landing dogs, sledges and gear.  Then we got some lunch on board.  A large lead in the sea-ice to the south of the Tongue necessitated some hours’ work in man-hauling all sledges along the back of the Tongue until a way could be found down on to safe ice.  We then followed with the ponies.  “If a pony falls into one of these holes I shall sit down and cry,” said Oates.  Within three minutes my pony was wallowing, with only his head and forelegs visible, in a mess of brash and snow, which had concealed a crack in the sea-ice which was obviously not going to remain much longer in its present position.  We got lashings round him and hauled him out.  Poor Guts!  He was fated to drown:  but in an hour he appeared to have forgotten all about his mishap, and was pulling his first load towards Hut Point as gallantly as always.

The next day we took further stores from the ship to the camp which had formed.  Some of these loads were to be left on the edge of the Barrier when we got there, but for the present we had to relay, that is, take one load forward and come back for another.

On the 26th we sledged back to the ship for our last load, and said good-bye on the sea-ice to those men with whom we had already worked so long, to Campbell and his five companions who were to suffer so much, to cheery Pennell and his ship’s company.

Before we left, Scott thanked Pennell and his men “for their splendid work.  They have behaved like bricks, and a finer lot of men never sailed in a ship....  It was a little sad to say farewell to all these good fellows and Campbell and his men.  I do most heartily trust that all will be successful in their ventures, for indeed their unselfishness and their generous high spirit deserve reward.  God bless them.”

Four of that Depot party were never to see these men again, and Pennell, Commander of the Queen Mary, went down with his ship in the battle of Jutland.

Two days later, January 28, we sledged our first loads on to the Barrier.  By that day we had done nearly ninety miles of relay work, first from the ship at Glacier Tongue to our camp off Hut Point, and then onwards.  Those first days of sledging were wonderful!  What memories they must have brought to Scott and Wilson when to us, who had never seen them before, these much-discussed landmarks were almost like old friends.  As we made our way over the frozen sea every seal-hole was of interest, and every type of wind-swept snow a novelty.  The peak of Terror opened out behind the crater of Erebus, and we walked under Castle Rock and Danger Slope until, rounding the promontory, we saw the little jagged Hut Point, and on it the cross placed there to Vince’s memory, all unchanged.  There was the old Discovery hut and the Bay in which the Discovery lay, and from which she was almost miraculously freed at the last moment, only to be flung upon the shoal which runs out from the Point, where some tins of the old Discovery days lie on the bottom still and glint in the evening sun.  And round about the Bay were the Heights of which we had read, Observation Hill, and Crater Hill separated from it by The Gap—­through which the wind was streaming; of course it was, for this must be the famous Hut Point wind.