[Illustration: 'ATCH']
[Illustration: TITUS OATES]
_November 24. Early morning._ A glut of foot-walloping in soft snow and
breaking crusts. We have done between 17 and 18 miles to-day. We saw no
crevasses, and have marked the course well, building up the cairns and
leaving two flags--so the mule party should be all right. The dogs were
going well behind the ponies, but directly we went ahead they seemed to
lose heart. I think they are tired of the Barrier: a cairn now awakens
little interest: they know it is only a mark and it does not mean a
camp: they are all well fed, and fairly fat and in good condition. With a
large number of dogs I suppose one team can go ahead when it is going
well--changing places with another--each keeping the others going. But I
do not think that these dogs now will do much more; but they have already
done as much as any dogs of which we have any record.
The land is clearing gradually. I have never seen such contrasts of black
rock and white snow, and White Island was capped with great ranges of
black cumulus, over which rose the pure white peaks of the Royal Society
Range in a blue sky. The Barrier itself was quite a deep grey, making a
beautiful picture. And now Observation Hill and Castle Rock are in front.
I don't suppose I shall ever see this view again: but it is associated
with many memories of returning to home and plenty after some long and
hard journeys: in some ways I feel sorry--but I have seen it often
enough.
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