The difficulties of exercising them in the dark were so great that with the best intentions in the world it was difficult to give them sufficient work for the good feeding they received.  Add to this the fact that one at any rate of these variable animals was really savage, and that most of them were keen to break away if possible, and the hour of exercise was not without its thrills even on the calmest and most moonlight days.  The worst days were those when it was difficult to say whether the ponies should be taken out on the sea-ice or not.  It was thick weather that was to be feared, for then, if the leader once lost his bearings, it was most difficult for him to return.  An overcast sky, light falling snow, perhaps a light northerly wind generally meant a blizzard, but the blizzard might not break for twenty-four hours, it might be upon you in four seconds.  It was difficult to say whether the pony should miss his exercise, whether the fish trap should be raised, whether to put off your intended trip to Cape Royds.  Generally the risks were taken, for, on the whole, it is better to be a little over-bold than a little over-cautious, while always there was a something inside urging you to do it just because there was a certain risk, and you hardly liked not to do it.  It is so easy to be afraid of being afraid!

Let me give one instance:  it must be typical of many.  It was thick as it could be, no moon, no stars, light falling snow, and not even a light breeze to keep in your face to give direction.  Bowers and I decided to take our ponies out, and once over the tide crack, where the working sea-ice joins the fast land-ice, we kept close under the tall cliffs of the Barne Glacier.  So far all was well, and also when we struck along a small crack into the middle of the bay, where there was a thermometer screen.  This we read with some difficulty by the light of a match and started back towards the hut.  In about a quarter of an hour we knew we were quite lost until an iceberg which we recognized showed us that we had been walking at right angles to our course, and got us safe home.

On a clear crisp day, with the full moon to show you the ridges and cracks and sastrugi, it was most pleasant to put on your ski and wander forth with no object but that of healthy pleasure.  Perhaps you would make your way round the bluff end of the cape and strike southwards.  Here you may visit Nelson working with his thermometers and current meters and other instruments over a circular hole in the ice, which he keeps open from day to day by breaking out the ‘biscuit’ of newly formed ice.  He has connected himself with the hut by telephone, and built round himself an igloo of drifted snow and the aforesaid ‘biscuits,’ which effectually shelter him from the wind.  Or you may meet Meares and Dimitri returning with the dog-teams from a visit to Hut Point.  A little farther on the silence is complete.  But now your ear catches the metallic scratch of ski sticks on hard ice; there is some one else ski-ing over there, it may be many miles away, for sound travels in an amazing way.  Every now and then there comes a sharp crack like a pistol shot; it is the ice contracting in the glaciers of Erebus, and you know that it is getting colder.  Your breath smokes, forming white rime over your face, and ice in your beard; if it is very cold you may actually hear it crackle as it freezes in mid air!