“Anyhow with every pump,—­hand and steam,—­going, the water continued to rise in the stokehold.  At 4 A.M. all hands took in the fore lower topsail, leaving us under a minimum of sail.  The gale increased to storm force (force 11 out of 12) and such a sea got up as only the Southern Fifties can produce.  All the afterguard turned out and the pumps were vigorously shaken up,—­sickening work as only a dribble came out.  We had to throw some coal overboard to clear the after deck round the pumps, and I set to work to rescue cases of petrol which were smashed adrift.  I broke away a plank or two of the lee bulwarks to give the seas some outlet as they were right over the level of the rail, and one was constantly on the verge of floating clean over the side with the cataract force of the backwash.  I had all the swimming I wanted that day.  Every case I rescued was put on the weather side of the poop to help get us on a more even keel.  She sagged horribly and the unfortunate ponies,—­though under cover,—­were so jerked about that the weather ones could not keep their feet in their stalls, so great was the slope and strain on their forelegs.  Oates and Atkinson worked among them like Trojans, but morning saw the death of one, and the loss of one dog overboard.  The dogs, made fast on deck, were washed to and fro, chained by the neck, and often submerged for a considerable time.  Though we did everything in our power to get them up as high as possible, the sea went everywhere.  The wardroom was a swamp and so were our bunks with all our nice clothing, books, etc.  However, of this we cared little, when the water had crept up to the furnaces and put the fires out, and we realized for the first time that the ship had met her match and was slowly filling.  Without a pump to suck we started the forlorn hope of buckets and began to bale her out.  Had we been able to open a hatch we could have cleared the main pump well at once, but with those appalling seas literally covering her, it would have meant less than 10 minutes to float, had we uncovered a hatch.

“The Chief Engineer (Williams) and carpenter (Davies), after we had all put our heads together, started cutting a hole in the engine room bulkhead, to enable us to get into the pump-well from the engine room; it was iron and, therefore, at least a 12 hours job.  Captain Scott was simply splendid, he might have been at Cowes, and to do him and Teddy Evans credit, at our worst strait none of our landsmen who were working so hard knew how serious things were.  Capt.  Scott said to me quietly—­’I am afraid it’s a bad business for us—­What do you think?’ I said we were by no means dead yet, though at that moment, Oates, at peril of his life, got aft to report another horse dead; and more down.  And then an awful sea swept away our lee bulwarks clean, between the fore and main riggings,—­only our chain lashings saved the lee motor sledge then, and I was soon diving after petrol cases.  Captain