I have since asked Nansen about this story.  He tells me that he must have been referring to the crew of the Windward, the ship of the Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition to Franz Josef Land in 1894-97.  The crew of this ship, which was travelling to and from civilization, got scurvy, though the land party kept healthy.  Of this Jackson writes:  “In the case of the crew of the Windward I fear that there was considerable carelessness in the use of tinned meats that were not free from taint, although tins quite gone were rejected....  We [on shore] largely used fresh bear’s meat, and the crew of the Windward were also allowed as much as they could be induced to eat.  They, however, preferred tinned meat several days a week to a diet of bear’s meat alone; and some of the crew had such a prejudice against bear’s meat as to refuse to eat it at all."[143]

Of course tainted food should not have been eaten at all, but if it had to be eaten, then, according to Nansen, the ptomaines which cause scurvy in the earlier stages of decomposition are destroyed by the ferment which forms in the later stages.  They should therefore have taken the worst tins, if any at all.

Wilson was strongly of opinion that fresh meat alone would stop scurvy:  on the Discovery seal meat cured it.  As to scurvy on Scott’s Discovery Southern Journey, he made light of it:  however, during the Winter Journey I remember Wilson stating that Shackleton several times fell in a faint as he got outside the tent, and he seems to have been seriously ill:  Wilson knew that he himself had scurvy some time before the others knew it, because the discoloration of his gums did not show in front for some time.  He did not think their dogs on that journey had scurvy, but ptomaine poisoning from fish which had travelled through the tropics.  He was of opinion that on returning from sledge journeys on the Discovery they had wrongly attributed to scurvy such symptoms as rash on the body, swollen legs and ankles, which were rather the result of excessive fatigue.  I may add that we had these signs on our return from the Winter Journey.

Then there were lectures on Geology by Debenham, on birds and beasts and also on Sketching by Wilson, on Surveying by Evans:  but perhaps no lecture remains more vividly in my memory than that given by Oates on what we called ‘The Mismanagement of Horses.’  Of course to all of us who were relying upon the ponies for the first stage of the Southern Journey the subject was of interest as well as utility, but the greater share of interest centred upon the lecturer, for it was certainly supposed that taciturn Titus could not have concealed about his person the gift of the gab, and it was as certain as it could be that the whole business was most distasteful to him.  Imagine our delight when he proved to have an elaborate discourse with full notes of which no one had seen the preparation.  “I have been fortunate in securing another night,” he