The surface was very heavy. Once, however, that they had
seen the camp they never stopped. I suppose they knew they were nearly
home. We marched in about 9.30 P.M. I said 'Thank God' when I looked at
the weather, and the empty sledges. The dogs were in camp, also the dome
tent [we had some tents shaped like a dome in addition to those we used
for sledging], out of which Uncle Bill (the real 'Uncle Bill Wilson') and
Meares emerged. We soon had the ponies behind walls and well fed,
borrowed their primus for ourselves, and had a square meal of pemmican
and biscuit with fids of seal liver in it.
(End of Bowers' Account.)
THE RETURN OF THE DOG PARTY
The history of the dog-teams was eventful. We travelled fast, doing
nearly 78 miles in the first three days, by which time we were
approaching Corner Camp. The dogs were thin and hungry and we were
pushing them each day just so long as they could pull, running ourselves
for the most part. Scott determined to cut the corner, that is to miss
Corner Camp and cut diagonally across our outward track. It was not
expected that this would bring us across any badly crevassed area.
We started on the evening of February 20 in a very bad light. It was
coldish, with no wind. After going about three miles I saw a drop in the
level of the Barrier which the sledge was just going to run over.
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