Our remaining sledge-meter was quite unreliable, but following our outward tracks (for it became thick and overcast), and judging by our old camping sites, we reckoned that we had done an excellent run of 23 to 24 miles (statute) for the day.  The temperature when we camped was only -14 deg..  However it became much colder in the night, and when we turned out it was so thick that I decided we must wait.  At 2 P.M. on March 11 there was one small patch of blue sky showing, and we started to steer by this:  soon it was blowing a mild blizzard, and we stopped after doing what I reckoned was eight miles, steering by trying to keep the wind on my ear:  but I think we were turning circles much of the time.  It blew hard and was very cold during the night, and we turned out on the morning of March 12 to a blizzard with a temperature of -33 deg.:  this gradually took off, and at 10 A.M.  Dimitri said he could see the Bluff, and we were right into the land, and therefore the pressure.  This was startling, but later it cleared enough to reassure me, though Dimitri was so certain that during the first part of our run that day I steered east a lot.  We did 25 to 30 miles this day in drift and a temperature of -28 deg..

By now I was becoming really alarmed and anxious about Dimitri, who seemed to be getting much worse, and to be able to do less and less.  Sitting on a sledge the next day with a head wind and the temperature -30 deg. was cold.  The land was clear when we turned out and I could see that we must be far outside our course, but almost immediately it became foggy.  We made in towards the land a good deal, and made a good run, but owing to the sledge-meter being useless and the bad weather generally during the last few days, I had a very hazy idea indeed where we were when we camped, having been steering for some time by the faint gleam of the sun through the mist.  Just after camping Dimitri suddenly pointed to a black spot which seemed to wave to and fro:  we decided that it was the flag of the derelict motor near Corner Camp which up to that time I thought was ten to fifteen miles away:  this was a great relief, and we debated packing up again and going to it, but decided to stay where we were.

It was fairly clear on the morning of March 14, which was lucky, for it was now obvious that we were miles from Corner Camp and much too near the land.  The flag we had seen must have been a miraged piece of pressure, and it was providential that we had not made for it, and found worse trouble than we actually experienced.  Try all I could that morning, my team, which was leading, insisted on edging westwards.  At last I saw what I thought was a cairn, but found out just in time that it was a haycock or mound of ice formed by pressure:  by its side was a large open crevasse, of which about fifty yards of snow-bridge had fallen in.  For several miles we knew that we were crossing big crevasses by the hollow sound, and it was with considerable relief that I sighted the motor and then Corner Camp some two or three miles to the east of us.  “Dimitri had left his Alpine rope there, and also I should have liked to have brought in Evans’ sledge, but it would have meant about five miles extra, and I left it.  I hope Scott, finding no note, will not think we are lost."[267]