CHAPTER XVIII
STILL IN THE HUT

The duties of the messman were more onerous than those of the night watchman, and began by laying the table—a simple operation owing to the primitive conditions under which we lived. He then garnished this with hot sauces to tickle some of our tough palates, and when we sat down he passed up bowls of porridge and the big jug of hot milk, which was the standing dish every day.

Then came the messman's order, "Up bowls," and, reserving our spoons, the bowls were passed along. If it were a "fruit day"—a day when the second course consisted of bottled fruit—the bowls were retained for this popular dish.

After he had been assisted in washing up the breakfast things, the duty of the man in the house was to fill the melting-pots with ice, empty the ashes and tins into the dust-box outside, and get in a bag of coal. One often heard the messman anxiously enquiring what the dinner dishes consisted of, the most popular, from his point of view, being those which resulted in the least amount of grease on the plates. The hut was swept out three times a day, so that the building was kept in a tidy state.

The Type-case and Printing Press for the production of the "Aurora Australis" in Joyce's and Wild's Cubicle, known as "The Rouges' Retreat." (See page 100)

It would only be repetition to chronicle our doings from day to day, during the months that passed from the disappearance of the sun until the welcome daylight returned. We lived under conditions of steady routine, and having more than enough to occupy us in our daily work that spectre known as "Polar ennui" never appeared.

At night some of us played bridge, poker and dominoes; but Joyce, Wild, Marston and Day spent much time in the production of the "Aurora Australis," the first book ever written, printed, illustrated and bound in the Antarctic.

Messrs. Joseph Causton & Sons, Ltd., had generously given us a complete printing outfit and the paper for the book, and Joyce and Wild had been instructed in type-setting and printing, Marston being taught etching and lithography.

They had hardly become skilled craftsmen, but although the early days of the printing department were not exactly happy, the work progressed steadily, until at the end of a fortnight or so two pages could be printed a day. Day meanwhile prepared the binding by cleaning, planing and polishing wood taken from the venesta cases, while Marston reproduced the illustrations by printing from aluminium plates.

Marston was handicapped by the fact that all our water had a trace of salt in it, but he managed to produce what we all regarded as creditable pictures. In its final form the book consisted of about 120 pages; and at any rate it had helped to guard us from a dangerous lack of occupation during the polar night.

On March 13 we experienced a very fierce blizzard, and cases weighing from 50 to 80 lb. were actually shifted from their positions; so when the gale was over we put everything that could possibly blow away into places of greater safety.

On this day Murray found living microscopical animals on some fungus that had been thawed out from a lump of ice taken from the bottom of one of the lakes, this being one of the most interesting discoveries that had been made in the Antarctic, for the study of these minute creatures threw a new light on the capability of life to exist under conditions of extreme cold and in the face of great variations of temperature.

From our point of view, it was humorous to see Murray trying to slay the little animals he had found. He used to thaw them from a block of ice, freeze them up again, and repeat this process several times without causing the rotifers any inconvenience. Then he tested them in brine so strongly saline that it would not freeze at a temperature above minus 7° Fahr., and still the animals lived, and a good proportion of them survived a temperature of 200° Fahr. It became a contest between rotifers and scientist, and generally the rotifers seemed to triumph.


Tongue and pencil would sadly fail to describe the magic of the colouring in the days when the sun was leaving us. The very clouds at this time were iridescent with rainbow hues. The change from twilight into night, sometimes lit by a crescent moon, was extraordinarily beautiful, for the white cliffs gave no part of their colour away, and the rocks beside them did not part with their blackness; so the effect of deepening night over these contrasts was singularly weird. Throughout April hardly a day passed without an auroral display, and about the beginning of that month the temperature began to drop considerably, and in calm, still weather the thermometer often registered 40° below zero.


On April 6 Marshall decided that it was necessary to amputate Brocklehurst's big toe, as there was no sign of its recovery from frost-bite; and the patient having been put under chloroform, the bone was removed, and the sufferer moved to my room, where he remained till just before mid-winter's day.

When mid-winter's day had passed, and the twilight became daily more marked, I set on foot arrangements for the sledging work in the following spring. For it was desirable that, at the earliest possible date, a depot of stores should be placed at a point to the south, in preparation for the departure of the Southern Party, which was to march towards the Pole. This depot I hoped to make at least a hundred miles from the winter quarters.

It was also desirable that definite information should be obtained regarding the condition of the snow surface on the Barrier; and I also wanted various members of the party to have practice in sledging before the serious work began. Considering our scarcity of ponies, I resolved that these preliminary sledging journeys should be performed by man-haulage.

During the winter I had given earnest consideration to the question of the date on which the party that was to march towards the Pole should leave the hut. Our hoped-for goal lay over 880 statute miles to the south, and the brief summer was all too short a time in which to march so far into the unknown and return. The ship would have to leave for the north about the end of February, for the ice would then be closing in; and, moreover, we could not hope to carry on our sledges much more than a three months' supply of provisions on anything like full rations.

Finally, I resolved that the Southern Party should leave mid-winter quarters on October 28, for by starting earlier the ponies would probably suffer from the severe cold at nights; and if the ponies were quickly incapacitated, we should have gained no advantage from our early start.

Preparing a Sledge during the Winter

But the date having been fixed, it became necessary to arrange for the laying of the depot during the early spring, and I thought that the first step towards this should be a preliminary journey on the Barrier surface, so that we might gain an idea of the prevailing conditions, and find out if the motor-car would be of service for at any rate the early portion of the journey.