Scott and
Wilson were always in the thick of it, and the others chimed in as their
interest, knowledge and experience led. Rash statements on questions of
fact were always dangerous, for our small community contained so many
specialists that errors were soon exposed. At the same time there were
few parts of the world that one or other of us had not visited at least
once. Later, when we came to our own limited quarters, books of reference
were constantly in demand to settle disputes. Such books as the Times
Atlas, a good encyclopaedia and even a Latin Dictionary are invaluable to
such expeditions for this purpose. To them I would add Who's Who.
From odd corners we unearthed some Contemporary Reviews, the Girls' Own
Paper and the Family Herald, all of ten years ago! We also found encased
in ice an incomplete copy of Stanley Weyman's My Lady Rotha; it was
carefully thawed out and read by everybody, and the excitement was
increased by the fact that the end of the book was missing.
"Who's going to cook?" was one of the last queries each night, and two
men would volunteer. It is not great fun lighting an ordinary coal fire
on a cold winter's morning, but lighting the blubber fire at Hut Point
when the metal frosted your fingers and the frozen blubber had to be
induced to drip was a far more arduous task. The water was converted from
its icy state and, by that time, the stove was getting hot, in inverse
proportion to your temper.
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