The ponies selected were either those in the best condition or the weaker beasts which from Oates's viewpoint would hardly survive the rigours of the winter. Apart from the animals picked for this journey, we had nine beasts left to be taken care of by the little Russian, Anton, and the trusty Lashly, whose mechanical knowledge and practical ability were needed to help get the Base Station going.
On January 3 I was sent on board with all the sledges, including two for a western geological reconnaissance and a small spare sledge for use in case of breakdown or accident to the depot-laying people. By this time no ice remained in the bay north of Cape Evans and the transport out to the "Terra Nova" had perforce to be done by boat.
I was glad to have this chance of working out the errors and rates of our chronometer watches, and, although I was up at 5 a.m., I could not resist having a long yarn, which continued far into the night, with those never-to-be-forgotten friends of mine, Campbell, Pennell, Rennick, and Bruce, the worthy and delightful lieutenants of the Expedition. Like little Bowers, Pennell and Rennick have made the supreme sacrifice, and only Campbell, Bruce and myself remain alive to-day.
January 24 was a busy day. Captain Scott was fetched from the shore directly after breakfast, and at 10 a.m. the ship left for Glacier Tongue to shadow as it were, the string of white Siberian ponies which were being led round over the fast ice in the bay to the southward of Cape Evans.
On arriving at the Tongue, Pennell selected a nice, natural wharf to put his ship alongside, and, this done, I got a picketing line out on the ice for the horses and then got the sledges on to the glacier. It is as well here to describe Glacier Tongue briefly, since frequent reference will be made to that icy promontory in this narrative.
Glacier Tongue lies roughly six miles to the S.S.E. of Cape Evans and is a remarkable spit of ice jutting out, when last surveyed, for four miles into McMurdo Sound. Soundings showed that it was afloat for a considerable part of its length, and as Scott found subsequently, a great portion of it broke adrift in the autumn or winter of 1911 and was carried by the winds and currents of the Sound to a position forty miles W.N.W. of Cape Evans, where it grounded, a huge flat iceberg two miles in length. Glacier Tongue was an old friend of mine, for it was here in the 1902-4 Relief Expedition that the crew of the little "Morning" dumped twenty tons of coal for the "Discovery" to pick up on her way northward, when the time came for her to free herself from the besetting ice which held her prisoner off Hut Point.
The ponies were marched to their tethering place without further accident than one falling through into the sea, but he was rescued none the worse. Oates showed himself to advantage in managing the ponies: he was very fond of telling us that a horse and a man would go anywhere, and I believe if we sailor-men had had the bad taste to challenge him he would have hoisted one of those Chinese ma[1] up to the crow's-nest! [1: Chinese for horse.]
We all had tea on board and then, after checking the sledge loads and ascertaining that nothing had been forgotten, the depot party started out with full loads and marched away from Glacier Tongue for seven miles, when our first camp was made on the sea ice. To commence with I went with Meares and No. 1 dog-sledge; the dogs were so eager and excited that they started by bolting at a breakneck speed and, in spite of all that we could do, took us over the glacier edge on to the sea ice. The sledge capsized and both Meares and I were thrown down somewhat forcibly. We caught the sledge, however, and got the dogs in hand after their initial energy had been expended. Scott and Wilson managed their dog sledge better as Meares gave them a quieter team.
It was about nine o'clock when we camped, Meares, Wilson, Scott and I sharing a tent. Uncle Bill was cook, and I must say the first sledging supper was delightful.
We went back to Glacier Tongue the next day to relay the fodder and dog biscuit which was to be depoted. We had brought the provisions for depot along the eve before. I went in with Meares and Nelson, who had come out on ski to "speed the parting guest." We had a rare treat all riding in on the dog sledge at a great pace. Had lunch on board and then Captain Scott gave us an hour or two to ourselves, for it was the day of farewell letters, everybody sitting round the ward-room table sucking pens or pencils, looking very wooden-faced and nonchalant despite the fact that we were most certainly writing to our nearest and dearest, sending through our letters an unwritten prayer that we should be spared after steadfastly performing our alloted tasks with credit to our flag and with credit to those at whose feet we yearned to lay the laurels we hoped to win. Even as I wrote my farewell letters Captain Scott, Wilson, Bowers, and Nelson found time to write to my wife; Scott's letter may well be included here for it shows his thoughtfulness and consideration: