I had a fair panic as we came up to the depot.  I did not see that one body of the ponies had gone ahead of the others and camped, but ahead of the travelling ponies was the depot, looking very black, and I thought that there was a tent.  It would be too terrible to find that, though one knew that we had done all that we could, if we had done something different we could have saved them.

And then we find that the provisions we left here for them in the tank are soaked with paraffin.  How this has happened is a mystery, but I think that the oil in the XS tin, which was very full, must have forced its way out in a sudden rise of temperature in a winter blizzard, and though the tin was not touching the tank, it has found its way in.

Altogether things seemed rather dismal, but a visit to the mules is cheering, for they seem very fit as a whole and their leaders are cheerful.  There are three sacks of oats here—­had we known it would have saved a lot of weight—­but we didn’t, and we have plenty with what we have brought, so they will be of little use to us.  There is no compressed fodder, which would have been very useful, for the animals which are refusing the oats would probably eat it.

Gulab has a very bad chafe, but he is otherwise fit—­and it does not seem possible in this life to kill a mule because of chafing.  It is a great deal to know that he does not seem to be hurt by it, and pulls away gallantly.  Crean says he had to run a mile this morning with Rani.  Marie says he is inventing some new ways of walking, one step forward and one hop back, in order to keep warm when leading Khan Sahib.  Up to date we cannot say that the Fates have been unkind to us.

November 12.  Early morning.  Lunch 2.30 A.M.  I am afraid our sledge-meters do not agree over this morning’s march.  The programme is to do thirteen miles a day if possible from here:  that is 71/2 before lunch and 51/2 afterwards.  We could see two cairns of last year on our right as we came along.  We have got on to a softer surface now and there is bad news of Lal Khan, and it will depend on this after-lunch march whether he must be shot this evening or not.  It was intended to shoot a mule two marches from One Ton, but till just lately it had not been thought that it must be Lal Khan.  He is getting very slow, and came into camp with Khan Sahib:  the trouble of course is that he will not eat:  he has hardly eaten, they say, a day’s ration since he left Hut Point, and he can’t work on nothing.  It is now -16 deg., with a slight southerly wind.

Nearly mid-day. 11-12 miles south of One Ton. We have found them—­to say it has been a ghastly day cannot express it—­it is too bad for words.  The tent was there, about half-a-mile to the west of our course, and close to a drifted-up cairn of last year.  It was covered with snow and looked just like a cairn, only an extra gathering of snow showing where the ventilator was, and so we found the door.