the ship:

"The Wild range is extraordinary in its curious stratification, and
one feels when gazing at it some-thing of a wish to scramble along the
crests, if only to feel land underfoot instead of ice, ice, ice.

"The prevailing colours here are blacks, grays, reds, like the cliffs
at Teignmouth and Exmouth, and another more chocolate red. Then the
whites in all kind of shade--fancy different shades of white, but
there are here any amount of them, and a certain sparkle of blue ice
down the Glacier where the sun is shining on it that reminds one of a
tropical sea. Except when marching we don't spend much time out of our
tents, but I take a breather now and again when surveying, and then I
sit on a sledge-box and wonder what is in store for us and where all
this will lead us. Amundsen has certainty not come this way, although
dogs could work here easily enough."

On December 20 Scott came into our tent after supper and told us that the
first return party would be Atkinson (in charge), Wright, Cherry-Garrard,
and Keohane, and that they would turn back after the next day's march.
We were all very sad, but each one thus detailed loyally abided by the
decision of our chief. I worked till nearly midnight getting out copy of
route and bearings for Wright to navigate back on.

Here is a specimen page of my diary:

"_December_ 21.

"Out at 5.45 a.m. and away at 8. Had a very heavy pull up steep slope
close to S.E. point of Buckley Island. Passed over many crevasses and