[Illustration:  DOGSKIN ‘MITTS’]

[Illustration:  SLEDGING SPOON, CUP AND PANNIKIN]

Oates wished to take certain of the ponies as far south as possible on the Depot journey, and then to kill them and leave the meat there as a depot of dog food for the Polar Journey.  Scott was against this plan.  Here at Bluff Depot he decided to send back the three weakest ponies (Blossom, Bluecher and Jimmy Pigg, with their leaders, Lieutenant Evans, Forde and Keohane).  They started back the next morning (February 13) while the remainder of the party went forward over a surface which gradually became softer as we left behind the windy region of the Bluff.  We now had with us the two teams of dogs, driven by Meares and Wilson, and five ponies.

    Scott with ‘Nobby.’ 
    Oates with ‘Punch.’ 
    Bowers with ‘Uncle Bill.’ 
    Gran with ‘Weary Willie.’ 
    Cherry-Garrard with ‘Guts.’

Scott, Wilson, Meares and myself inhabited one tent, Bowers, Oates and Gran the other.  Scott was evolving in his mind means by which ponies should follow one another in a string, the second pony with his leading rein fastened to the back of the sledge of the first and so on, the cavalcade to be managed by two or three men only, instead of one man to lead each pony.

Sunday night (February 12) we started from Bluff Depot and did seven miles before lunch against a considerable drift and wind.  It was pretty cold, and ten minutes after we left our lunch camp with the ponies it was blowing a full blizzard.  The dog party had not started, so we camped and slept five in the four-man tent, and it was by no means uncomfortable.  Probably this was the time when Scott first thought of taking a five-man party to the Pole.  By Monday evening the blizzard was over, the dogs came up, and we did 61/2 miles of very heavy going.  Gran’s pony, Weary Willie, a sluggish and obstinate animal, was far behind, as usual, when we halted our ponies at the camping place.  Farther off the dog-teams were coming up.  What happened never became clear.  Poor Weary, it seems, was in difficulties in a snow-drift:  the dogs of one team being very hungry took charge of their sledge and in a moment were on the horse, to all purposes a pack of ravenous wolves.  Gran and Weary made a good fight and the dogs were driven off, but Weary came into camp without his sledge, covered with blood and looking very sick.

We halted after doing only 3/4 mile more after lunch; for the pony was done, and little wonder.  The following day we did 71/2 miles with difficulty, both Uncle Bill and Weary Willie going very slowly and stopping frequently.  The going was very deep.  The ponies were fast giving out, and it was evident that we had much to learn as to their use on the Barrier; they were thin and very hungry; their rations were unsatisfactory; and the autumn temperatures and winds were beyond their strength.  We went on one more day in a minus twenty temperature and light airs, and then in latitude 79 deg. 29’ S. it was determined to lay the depot, which was afterwards known as One Ton, and return.  In view of subsequent events it should be realized that this depot was just a cairn of snow in which were buried food and oil, and over which a flag waved on a bamboo.  There is no land visible from One Ton except on a very clear day and it is 130 geographical miles from Hut Point.