We continued to accumulate a supply of seal meat and blubber, and the excursions across the floes to shoot and bring in the seals provided welcome exercise for all hands.  Three crab-eater cows shot on the 21st were not accompanied by a bull, and blood was to be seen about the hole from which they had crawled.  We surmised that the bull had become the prey of one of the killer-whales.  These aggressive creatures were to be seen often in the lanes and pools, and we were always distrustful of their ability or willingness to discriminate between seal and man.  A lizard-like head would show while the killer gazed along the floe with wicked eyes.  Then the brute would dive, to come up a few moments later, perhaps, under some unfortunate seal reposing on the ice.  Worsley examined a spot where a killer had smashed a hole 8 ft. by 12 ft. in 12½ in. of hard ice, covered by 2½ in. of snow.  Big blocks of ice had been tossed on to the floe surface.  Wordie, engaged in measuring the thickness of young ice, went through to his waist one day just as a killer rose to blow in the adjacent lead.  His companions pulled him out hurriedly.

On the 22nd the ‘Endurance’ reached the farthest south point of her drift, touching the 77th parallel of latitude in long. 35° W. The summer had gone; indeed the summer had scarcely been with us at all.  The temperatures were low day and night, and the pack was freezing solidly around the ship.  The thermometer recorded 10° below zero Fahr. at 2 a.m. on the 22nd.  Some hours earlier we had watched a wonderful golden mist to the southward, where the rays of the declining sun shone through vapour rising from the ice.  All normal standards of perspective vanish under such conditions, and the low ridges of the pack, with mist lying between them, gave the illusion of a wilderness of mountain-peaks like the Bernese Oberland.  I could not doubt now that the ‘Endurance’ was confined for the winter.  Gentle breezes from the east, south, and south-west did not disturb the hardening floes.  The seals were disappearing and the birds were leaving us.  The land showed still in fair weather on the distant horizon, but it was beyond our reach now, and regrets for havens that lay behind us were vain.

“We must wait for the spring, which may bring us better fortune.  If I had guessed a month ago that the ice would grip us here, I would have established our base at one of the landing-places at the great glacier.  But there seemed no reason to anticipate then that the fates would prove unkind.  This calm weather with intense cold in a summer month is surely exceptional.  My chief anxiety is the drift.  Where will the vagrant winds and currents carry the ship during the long winter months that are ahead of us?  We will go west, no doubt, but how far?  And will it be possible to break out of the pack early in the spring and reach Vahsel Bay or some other suitable landing-place?  These are momentous questions for us.”