“It was very cold, with a sharp southerly wind when we started, but later on got quite warm.  We rose 1130 feet in the forenoon and made 5 miles 1565 yards up to lunch.  We started again at 3 o’clock, and the fog lifting, we made a good march for the day:  11 miles 200 yards geographical (Stat. 12 miles 1388 yards).  In the afternoon we had a very heavy drag and did not camp till 7.30 p.m., about 4 miles S. 30 degrees W. of Mount Darwin (summit), Latitude 85 degrees 7 minutes S., Longitude 163 degrees 4 minutes E.

   “Our height above the Barrier is 7750 feet by aneroid.

   “Had a fine hoosh with a full pannikin of pony meat added to celebrate
   our ‘De-tenting,’ which takes place to-morrow morning.  We make a depot
   here with half a week’s provision for two parties.”

We repacked the sledges after breakfast.  This place was called the Upper Glacier Depot—­and it marked the commencement of the third and final stage of the Poleward Journey.  We said good-bye to Atkinson’s party, and they started down the Glacier after depositing the foodstuffs they had sledged up the Beardmore for the Polar Party and the last supporting party.  Atkinson and his tent-mates now had to face a homeward march of 584 miles.  They spent Christmas Day collecting geological specimens, and reached Cape Evans on January 28.  They had some sickness in the shape of enteritis and slight scurvy, but Dr. Atkinson’s care and medical knowledge brought them through safely.  Captain Scott with his two sledge teams now pushed forward, keeping an average speed of 15 miles per day, with full loads of 190 lb. a man.

When we started off we were: 

Scott.                       Self. 
Wilson.                      Bowers. 
Oates.                       Crean. 
Seaman Evans                Lashly.

We steered S.W. to begin with to avoid the great pressure ridges and ice falls which barred our way to the South.  We began to rise very perceptibly, and, looking back after our march, realised what enormous frozen falls stretch across the top of the Beardmore.  I noted that these, with Scott’s consent should be called “The Shackleton Ice Falls,” according to his track he went up them.  When we looked back on starting our march we could see the depot cairn with a black flag tied to a pair of 10 foot sledge runners for quite three miles—­it promised well for picking up.  Next day we were away early, marching 8 1/2 miles to lunch camp, and getting amongst crevasses as big as Regent Street, all snow bridged.

We rushed these and had no serious falls; the dangerous part is at the edge of the snow bridge, and we frequently fell through up to our armpits just stepping on to or leaving the bridge.  We began now to experience the same tingling wind that Shackleton speaks of, and men’s noses were frequently frost-bitten.  On Christmas Eve we were 8000 feet above the Barrier, and we imagined we were clear of crevasses and pressure ridges.  We now felt the cold far more when marching than we had done on the Beardmore.