The weather doesn't give us a chance--the wind from N.
to N.W. and -40 deg. temp, to-day."
"_Wednesday, March 21._ Got within 11 miles of depot Monday night; had to
lay up all yesterday in severe blizzard. To-day forlorn hope, Wilson and
Bowers going to depot for fuel."
"_22 and 23._ Blizzard bad as ever--Wilson and Bowers unable to
start--to-morrow last chance--no fuel and only one or two of food
left--must be near the end. Have decided it shall be natural--we shall
march for the depot with or without our effects and die in our tracks."
"_Thursday, March 29._ Since the 21st we have had a continuous gale from
W.S.W. and S.W. We had fuel to make two cups of tea apiece and bare food
for two days on the 20th. Every day we have been ready to start for our
depot _11 miles_ away, but outside the door of the tent it remains a
scene of whirling drift. I do not think we can hope for any better things
now. We shall stick it out to the end, but we are getting weaker, of
course, and the end cannot be far.
"It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more.
R. SCOTT."
_Last entry._ "For God's sake, look after our people."
The following extracts are from letters written by Scott:
_To Mrs. E. A. Wilson_
MY DEAR MRS. WILSON. If this letter reaches you, Bill and I will have
gone out together.
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