At lunch camp we had done 81/2 miles, and in the afternoon we completed fifteen on a S.W. course over improved ground.  Our routine is to actually haul our sledges for nine hours a day; five in the morning, 7.15 A.M. till 1 P.M.; and four in the afternoon, 2.30 P.M.-6.30 P.M.  We turn out at 5.45 A.M. just now.  The loads are still pretty heavy, but the surface is remarkably good considering all things.  One gets pretty weary towards the end of the day; all my muscles have had their turn at being [stiffened] up.  These hills are giving my back ones a reminder, but they will ache less to-morrow and finally cease to do so, as is the case with legs, etc., which had their turn first.

December 24. Christmas Eve. We started off heading due south this morning, as we are many miles to the westward of Shackleton’s course and should if anywhere be clear of the ice-falls and pressure.  Of course no mortals having been here, one can only conjecture; as a matter of fact, we found later in the day that we were not clear by any means, and had to do a bit of dodging about to avoid disturbances, as well as mount vast ridges with the tops of them a chaos of crevasses.  The tops are pretty hard ice-snow, over which the sledges run easily; it is quite a holiday after slogging up the slopes on the softer surface with our heavy loads, which amount to over 190 lbs. per man.

We mark our night camp by two cairns and our lunch camp by single ones.  It is doubtful, however, among these ridges, if we will ever pick them up again, and it does not really matter, as we have excellent land for the Upper Glacier Depot.  We completed fourteen miles and turned in as usual pretty tired.

December 25. Christmas Day. A strange and strenuous Christmas for me, with plenty of snow to look at and very little else.  The breeze that had blown in our faces all yesterday blew more freshly to-day, with surface drift.  It fairly nipped one’s nose and face starting off—­until one got warmed up.  We had to pull in wind blouses, as though one’s body kept warm enough on the march the arms got numbed with the penetrating wind no matter how vigorously they were swung.  Another thing is that one cannot stop the team on the march to get clothes on and off, so it is better to go the whole hog and be too hot than cause delays.  We had the addition of a little pony meat for breakfast to celebrate the day.  I am the cook of our tent this week.

We steered south again and struck our friends the crevasses and climbed ridges again.  About the middle of the morning we were all falling in continually, but Lashly in my team had the worst drop.  He fell to the length of his harness and the trace.  I was glad that having noticed his rope rather worn, I had given him a new one a few days before.  He jerked Crean and me off our feet backwards, and Crean’s harness being jammed under the sledge, which was half across an eight-feet bridge, he could do nothing.  I was a little afraid of sledge and all going down, but fortunately the crevasse ran diagonally.  We could not see Lashly, for a great overhanging piece of ice was over him.  Teddy Evans and I cleared Crean and we all three got Lashly up with the Alpine rope cut into the snow sides which overhung the hole.  We then got the sledge into safety.