While the sledging equipment advanced, Bowers, aided by Cherry-Garrard, sorted out the rations, which he weighed and packed in the most business-like manner.  Bowers was always well served, for he had the happy knack of enlisting volunteers for whatever his particular purpose called.

By September 1 Scott must have felt that no portion of his preparations was incomplete, for the travelling equipment had been taken in hand with a thoroughness that was the outcome of zeal and thoughtful attention to detail.

Previous to the departure of the large caravan for the Polar journey, a spring journey was proposed for the purpose of laying a small depot at Corner Camp and generally reconnoitring.  On account of the low spring temperatures no animals were used for this trip, which was carried out by Gran, Forde, and myself.

We started on ski, pulling a heavy load of over six hundred pounds.  We marched from eight o’clock in the morning until nine at night, with a short interval for lunch, and that first day out we covered twenty miles and arrived on the Great Ice Barrier at the close of our march.  The Barrier in its bleak loneliness is probably the most desolate portion of the earth’s surface, with the possible exception of the high plateau which forms the ice cap of the great Antarctic mountain ranges.  Although only twenty miles from our winter quarters at Cape Evans, the temperature was 21 degrees lower, as we afterwards found by comparison.

We were all three anxious to acquit ourselves well, and although the temperature on camping was 42 degrees below zero we had not experienced any great discomfort until we encountered a sharp, cold breeze off Cape Armitage, which resulted in Forde having his nose badly frost-bitten.  Directly this was noticed we quickly unpacked our sledge, erected our tent, and whilst Gran cooked the supper I applied what warmth I could to Forde’s nose to bring the frozen part of it back to life.

Needless to say, the sharp air had keened our appetites, and we were all eager for the fragrant smelling pemmican.  We sat round on our rolled-up fur sleeping-bags, warming our hands over the primus stove, and literally yearning for the moment to arrive when the pemmican would boil and we could absorb the delicious beverage and derive some badly needed warmth therefrom.  Following the pemmican and biscuit came a fine brew of cocoa.  This finished, the bags were unstrapped and laid out, when the three of us soon curled up and, huddling together for warmth, endeavoured to get to sleep.  The thermometer, however, fell to 60 degrees below zero, and the cold seemed to grip us particularly about the feet and loins.  All night we shivered and fidgeted, feeling the want of extra beat in the small of our backs more than elsewhere.  We got little or no sleep that night, and my companions were as glad as I was myself when daylight came and we got busy with our breakfast.