The afternoon was like the morning, save that the sun was now sinking behind the Western Mountains.  These autumn effects were among the most beautiful sights of the world, and it was now that Wilson made the sketches for many of the water-colours which he afterwards painted at Winter Quarters.  The majority were taken from the summit of Observation Hill, crouching under the lee of the rocks into which, nearly two years after, we built the Cross which now stands to commemorate his death and that of his companions.  He sketched quickly with bare fingers and mittened hands, jotting down the outlines of hills and clouds, and pencilling in the colours by name.  After a minute, more or less, the fingers become too cold for such work, and they must be put back into the wool and fur mitts until they are again warm enough to continue.  Pencil and sketch book, a Winsor and Newton, were carried in a little blubber-stained wallet on his belt.  Scott carried his sledge diaries in similar books in a similar wallet made of green Willesden canvas and fastened with a lanyard.

There was a good fug in the hut by dinner time:  this was a mixed blessing.  It was good for our gear:  sleeping-bags, finnesko, mitts, socks were all hung up and dried, most necessary after sledging, and most important for the preservation of the skins; but it also started the most infernal drip-drip from the roof.  I have spoken of the double roof of the old Discovery hut.  This was still full of solid ice; indeed some time afterwards a large portion of it fell, but luckily the inhabitants were outside.  The immediate problem was to prevent the leaks falling on ourselves, our food or our clothing and bags.  And so every tin was brought into use and hung from leaky spots, while water chutes came into their own.  As the stove cooled so did the drip cease, and in no prehistoric cavern did more stalactites and stalagmites grow apace.

On March 16 the last sledge party to the Barrier that season started for Corner Camp with provisions to increase the existing depot there.  The party was in charge of Lieutenant Evans, and consisted of Bowers, Oates, Atkinson, Wright, and myself, with two seamen, Crean and Forde.  The journey out and back took eight days and was uneventful as sledge journeys go.  Thick weather prevailed for several days, and after running down our distance to Corner Camp we waited for it to clear.  We found ourselves six miles from the depot and among crevasses, which goes to show how easy it is to steer off the course under such conditions, and how creditable the navigation is when a course is kept correctly, sometimes more by instinct than by skill.

But we got our first experience of cold weather sledging which was useful.  The minus thirties and forties are not very cold as we were to understand cold afterwards, but quite cold enough to start with; cold enough to teach you how to look after your footgear, handle metal and not to waste time.  However, the sun was still well up during the day, and this makes all the difference, since any sun does more drying of clothes and gear than none at all.  At the same time we began to realize the difficulties which attend upon spring journeys, though we could only imagine what might be the trials on a journey in mid-winter, such as we intended to essay.