The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard (book recommendations for teens txt) 📕

on. I have never seen a sledge sink so. I have never pulled so hard, or so nearly crushed my inside into my backbone by the everlasting jerking with all my strength on the canvas band round my unfortunate tummy. We were all in the same boat however.

“I saw Teddy struggling ahead and Scott astern, but we were the worst off as the leading team had topped the rise and I was too blind to pick out a better trail. We fairly played ourselves out that time, and finally had to give it up and relay. Halving the load we went forward about a mile with it, and, leaving that lot, went back for the remainder. So done were my team that we could do little more than pull the half loads. Teddy’s team did the same, and though Scott’s did not, we camped practically the same time, having gone over our distance three times. Mount Kyffin was still ahead of us to the left: we seemed as if we can never come up with it. Tomorrow Scott decided that if we could not move our full loads we would start relaying systematically. It was a most depressing outlook after such a day of strenuous labour.”227 We got soaked with perspiration these days, though generally pulling in vest, pants, and windproof trousers only. Directly we stopped we cooled quickly. Two skuas appeared at lunch, attracted probably by the pony flesh below, but it was a long way from the sea for them to come. On Thursday December 14, Scott wrote: “Indigestion and the soggy condition of my clothes kept me awake for some time last night, and the exceptional exercise gives bad attacks of cramp. Our lips are getting raw and blistered. The eyes of the party are improving, I am glad to say. We are just starting our march with no very hopeful outlook.”

Plate VI⁠—Mount Elizabeth, Mount Anne and Socks Glacier⁠—E. A. Wilson; Emery Walker Ltd., Collotypers.

But we slogged along with much better results. “Once into the middle of the glacier we had been steering more or less for the Cloudmaker and by supper today were well past Mount Kyffin and were about 2,000 feet up after an estimated run of 11 or 12 statute miles. But the most cheering sign was that the blue ice was gradually coming nearer the surface; at lunch it was two feet down, and at our supper camp only one foot. In pitching our tent Crean broke into a crevasse which ran about a foot in front of the door and there was another at Scott’s door. We threw an empty oil can down and it echoed for a terribly long time.”228 We spent the morning of December 15 crossing a maze of crevasses though they were well bridged; I believe all these lower reaches of the glacier are badly crevassed, but the thick snow and our ski kept us from tumbling in. There was a great deal of competition between the teams which was perhaps unavoidable but probably a pity. This day Bowers’ diary records, “Did a splendid bust off on ski, leaving Scott in the lurch, and eventually overhauling the party which had left some time before us. All the morning we kept up a steady, even swing which was quite a pleasure.” But the same day Scott wrote, “Evans’ is now decidedly the slowest unit, though Bowers’ is not much faster. We keep up and overhaul either without difficulty.” Bowers’ team considered themselves quite good, but both teams were satisfied of their own superiority; as a matter of fact Scott’s was the faster, as it should have been for it was certainly the heavier of the two.

“It was a very bad light all day, but after lunch it began to get worse, and by 5 o’clock it was snowing hard and we could see nothing. We went on for nearly an hour, steering by the wind and any glimpse of sastrugi, and then, very reluctantly, Scott camped. It looks better now. The surface is much harder and more windswept, and as a rule the ice is only six inches underneath. We are beginning to talk about Christmas. We get very thirsty these days in the warm temperatures: we shall feel it farther up when the cold gets into our open pores and sunburnt hands and cracked lips. I am plastering some skin on mine tonight. Our routine now is: turn out 5:30, lunch 1, and camp at 7, and we get a short 8 hours’ sleep, but we are so dead tired we could sleep half into the next day: we get about 9½ hours’ march. Tea at lunch a positive godsend. We are raising the land to the south well, and are about 2,500 feet up, latitude about 84° 8′ S.”229

The next day, December 16, Bowers wrote: “We have had a really enjoyable day’s march, except the latter end of the afternoon. At the outset in the forenoon my sledge was a bit in the lurch, and Scott drew steadily away from us. I knew I could ordinarily hold my own with him, but for the first two hours we dropped till we were several hundred yards astern; try as I would to rally up my team we could gain nothing. On examining the runners however we soon discovered the cause by the presence of a thin film of ice. After that we ran easily. The thing one must avoid doing is to touch them with the hand or mitt, as anything damp will make ice on them. We usually turn the sledge on its side and scrape one runner at a time with the back of our knives so as to avoid any chance of cutting or chipping them. In the afternoon either the tea or the butter we had at lunch made us so strong