miles with no food but a few biscuits and a little stick of chocolate.

He hoped to find relief at Hut Point. Failing this, he would go on if
possible to Cape Evans.

Crean came in to say good-bye to me. I thanked him for what he was doing
in a weak, broken sort of way, and Lashly held open the little round tent
door to let me see the last of him. He strode out nobly and finely--I
wondered if I should ever see him, again. Then Lashly came in to me, shut
the tent door, and made me a little porridge out of some oatmeal we got
from the last depot we had passed.

After I had eaten it he made me comfortable by laying me on Crean's
sleeping-bag, which made my own seem softer, for I was very, very sore
after being dragged a hundred miles on a jolting, jumping sledge. Then I
slept and awoke to find Lashly's kind face looking down at me. There were
very few wounded men in the Great War nursed as I was by him.

A couple of days passed, and every now and then Lashly would open up the
tent door, go out and search the horizon for some possible sign of
relief. The end had nearly come, and I was past caring; we had no food,
except a few paraffin saturated biscuits, and Lashly in his weakened
state without food could never have marched in. He took it all very
quietly--a noble, steel true man--but relief did come at the end of that
day when everything looked its blackest.

We heard the baying of the dogs, first once, then again. Lashly, who was
lying down by my side quietly talking, sprang to his feet, looked out,
and saw!