We arrived at the old pony-food depot, Safety Camp, during the forenoon
of September 9, and dug out the stores and bales of compressed hay, which
we carefully tallied and marked by setting up a large black flag. Then we
continued towards Corner Camp. We covered only eight or nine miles this
second day on account of spending much time in digging out the depot at
Safety Camp. The temperature seemed to fall as we advanced into the
Barrier, and this night the thermometer fell to 62 degrees below zero,
which meant more shivering and even more discomfort, because now the
moisture from our bodies and our breath formed ice in the fur of our
sleeping-bags, especially at the head, hips, and feet. One can never
forget the horrible ice-clammy feeling of one's face against the frozen
fur. How I yearned for a whiff of mild New Zealand air and an hour of its
glorious sunshine to thaw my frozen form.

In spite of the low temperature we did sleep this second night, for we
were tired men, and Nature nursed us somehow into a sort of mild
unconsciousness.

On the third day of our march a considerable effort was necessary to
bring the sledge out of its settled position in the hard snow, but we
soon got going, like willing horses swaying at our load. The day was very
cold and our breath came out grayly steaming in the clear, crisp air.

At first our faces, feet, and fingers were quite painful from the cold,
which bit right through, but as the march progressed the temperature rose
kindly, until towards noon it was only about 30 degrees below zero, warm
enough after what we had experienced earlier.

As we trudged along we watched the mist which clothed the distant hills
uncurl from their summits and roll back into rising sheets of vapour