OHYAT: Pushing South

On the night of November 4-5, 1912, the dog party caught up with the mule party, despite having an unexpectedly hard time with what should have been good surfaces. Between them they had one working sledgemeter and one intermittently functional one – only one had survived the previous year's trips but they'd cobbled together another from a bicycle wheel and spare parts.

The mules were in better condition than last year's ponies, though like the ponies they preferred to eat anything but their food – rope, cloth, and "unconsidered trifles" according to Silas – and had figured out how to unpicket themselves. On the other hand, they seemed to enjoy marching into a headwind, which was just as well, as there was a blizzard around this time.

November 6. Early morning. We had a really good lie-in yesterday, and after the hard slogging with the dogs during the last few days I for one was very glad of it. We came on behind, and in sight of the mules this last march, and the change in the dogs was wonderful. Where it had been a job to urge them on over quite as good a surface yesterday, to-day for some time we could not get off the sledge except for short runs: although we had taken 312 lbs. weight off the mules and loaded it on to the dogs.

We had a most glorious night for marching, and it is now bright sunlight, and the animals' fur is quite warm where the sun strikes it. We have just had a bit of a fight over the dog-food, Vaida going for Dyk, and now the others are somewhat excited, and there are constant growlings and murmurings.

– Apsley Cherry-Garrard's diary

ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO TODAY, there was a small incident of little note, but any student of literary techniques might have an appreciation of it:

November 7. ... We started in a bad light and the surface ... was covered by a thin layer of crystals which were then falling. ... At lunch Atkinson thought he saw a tent away to our right, — the very thought of it came as a shock, — but it proved to be a false alarm.

– ibid.