The majority were taken from the summit of Observation
Hill, crouching under the lee of the rocks into which, nearly two years
after, we built the Cross which now stands to commemorate his death and
that of his companions. He sketched quickly with bare fingers and
mittened hands, jotting down the outlines of hills and clouds, and
pencilling in the colours by name. After a minute, more or less, the
fingers become too cold for such work, and they must be put back into the
wool and fur mitts until they are again warm enough to continue. Pencil
and sketch book, a Winsor and Newton, were carried in a little
blubber-stained wallet on his belt. Scott carried his sledge diaries in
similar books in a similar wallet made of green Willesden canvas and
fastened with a lanyard.
There was a good fug in the hut by dinner time: this was a mixed
blessing. It was good for our gear: sleeping-bags, finnesko, mitts, socks
were all hung up and dried, most necessary after sledging, and most
important for the preservation of the skins; but it also started the most
infernal drip-drip from the roof. I have spoken of the double roof of the
old Discovery hut. This was still full of solid ice; indeed some time
afterwards a large portion of it fell, but luckily the inhabitants were
outside. The immediate problem was to prevent the leaks falling on
ourselves, our food or our clothing and bags.
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