endure that day.  I at once broached the hopeful side of the subject, remarking that, with the two Campbell had left, we had ten ponies at Winter quarters.  He said, however, that he had no confidence whatever in the motors after the way their rollers had become messed up unloading the ship.  He had had his confidence in the dogs much shaken on the return journey, and now he had lost the most solid asset—­the best of his pony transport.  He said:  ’Of course we shall have a run for our money next season, but as far as the Pole is concerned I have but very little hope.’  We had a mournful meal, but after the others turned in I went down again, and by striking across diagonally came abreast of the ponies’ floe, over a mile away.  They were moving west fast, but they saw me, and remained huddled together not the least disturbed, or doubting that we would bring them their breakfast nosebags as usual in the morning.  Poor trustful creatures!  If I could have done it then, I would gladly have killed them rather than picture them starving on that floe out on the Ross Sea, or eaten by the exultant Killers that cruised around.

“After breakfast Captain Scott sent me to bring up the sledges.  It was dead calm again.  Hope always springs, so I took his pair of glasses and looked west from the Barrier edge.  Nearly all the ice had gone, but a medley of floes had been hurled up against a long point of Barrier much farther west.  To my delight I saw three green specks on one of these—­the pony rugs—­and all four of us legged it back to the tent to tell Captain Scott.  We were soon off over the Barrier.  It was a long way, but we had a tent and some food.  Crean had a bad day of snow-blindness, and could see absolutely nothing.  So, on arrival at the place, we pitched the tent and left him there.  The ponies were in a much worse place than the day before, but the ice was still there, and some floes actually touched the Barrier.

“After our recent experience Captain Scott would only let us go on condition that as soon as he gave the order we were to drop everything and run for the Barrier.  I was in a feverish hurry, and with Titus and Cherry selected a possible route over about six floes, and some low brash ice.  The hardest jump was the first one, but it was nothing to what they had done the day before, so we put Punch at it.  Why he hung fire I cannot think,[125] but he did, at the very edge, and the next moment was in the water.  I will draw a veil over our struggle to get the plucky little pony out.  We could not manage it, and Titus had at last to put an end to his struggles with a pick.