and arrived on the Great Ice Barrier at the close of our march. The
Barrier in its bleak loneliness is probably the most desolate portion of
the earth's surface, with the possible exception of the high plateau
which forms the ice cap of the great Antarctic mountain ranges. Although
only twenty miles from our winter quarters at Cape Evans, the temperature
was 21 degrees lower, as we afterwards found by comparison.

We were all three anxious to acquit ourselves well, and although the
temperature on camping was 42 degrees below zero we had not experienced
any great discomfort until we encountered a sharp, cold breeze off Cape
Armitage, which resulted in Forde having his nose badly frost-bitten.
Directly this was noticed we quickly unpacked our sledge, erected our
tent, and whilst Gran cooked the supper I applied what warmth I could to
Forde's nose to bring the frozen part of it back to life.

Needless to say, the sharp air had keened our appetites, and we were all
eager for the fragrant smelling pemmican. We sat round on our rolled-up
fur sleeping-bags, warming our hands over the primus stove, and literally
yearning for the moment to arrive when the pemmican would boil and we
could absorb the delicious beverage and derive some badly needed warmth
therefrom. Following the pemmican and biscuit came a fine brew of cocoa.
This finished, the bags were unstrapped and laid out, when the three of
us soon curled up and, huddling together for warmth, endeavoured to get
to sleep. The thermometer, however, fell to 60 degrees below zero, and
the cold seemed to grip us particularly about the feet and loins. All
night we shivered and fidgeted, feeling the want of extra beat in the
small of our backs more than elsewhere. We got little or no sleep that
night, and my companions were as glad as I was myself when daylight came
and we got busy with our breakfast.