We appreciated that we were outdistancing them, however, and camped at 8 p.m.

It being my cooking week, and, as we fondly imagined, our penultimate day on the Great Ice Barrier, combined with a very good march and a very bright outlook, we had an extra fine hoosh; it contained the full allowance of pemmican, a pannikin full of pony flesh cut in little slices, about 1 1/2 pints of crushed biscuit from our surplus, and some four ounces of cornflour with pepper and salt.

I also had the pleasure of issuing four biscuits each, or twice the ration, Meares and Dimitri having given us eight whole biscuits which they spared from their supply.

The dog drivers were not so ravenous as the man-hauling party, which was natural, but still it was uncommonly generous of them to give us part of their ration for nothing.

I made an extra strong whack of cocoa, as we still had some of my private tea left, so could save cocoa.  I brought tea in lieu of tobacco in my personal bag.  At least that night the man-hauling party turned in on full stomachs.

We were all tired out and asleep in no time, confident and expectant, but before enjoying the comfort and warmth of our sleeping-bags had an admiring look at the land stretched out before us, and particular application of the eye to the Gap or Southern Gateway, which seemed to say “Come on.”

So far on the journey I have not mentioned the word “blizzard” seriously, for we had not hitherto been hampered severely.  The 5th December was in truth a Black Day for all.  Once more the demon of bad luck held the trump cards against us.  Another blizzard started, which tore our chances of any great success to ribbons—­it was the biggest knock-down blow that Scott sustained in the whole history of his expedition to date.  Here he was, a day’s march from the Beardmore Glacier, with fourteen men, in health and high fettle, with dogs, ponies, food, and everything requisite for a great advance, but it was not to be, our progress was barred for four whole days, and during that period we had essentially to be kept on full ration, for it would have availed us nothing to lose strength in view of what we must yet face in the way of physical effort and hardship—­we were but one day’s march from Mount Hope, our ponies had to be fed, the dogs had to be fed, but they could do no work for their food.  There was nothing for it but cheerful resignation.  Our tent breakfasted at the aristocratic hour of 10.15 a.m., and Atkinson and I went out to fill the cooker afterwards—­the drift was terrible and the snow not fine as usual, but in big flakes driving in a hard wind from S.S.E.  It was not very cold, perhaps it would have helped things later if it had been.  Our tents quickly snowed up for nearly three feet to leeward.  In the camp we could only sleep and eat, the tent space became more and more congested, and those lying closest to the walls of the tents were cramped by the weight