Geography Reference
In-Depth Information
61
tracts. This is true on the ocean or the ice sheet, but from the crow's nest of a ship, one
hundred feet above the water, the horizon will be 13.5 miles distant, whereas a man on
foot will see only about 3 miles. In reality, the popular notion that on the plains one “can
see forever” is not borne out. A sky full of moving clouds may give a sense of distance, but
on the polar plateau on a cloudless day, or even worse on a gray day, the walls close in on
an image of monotony and desolation. Scott, Lashly, and Evans had furrowed deep into
this monotony and found their way back. The blank space on the map remained blank,
save for a thin, nearly straight line that had not been there before.
Their return went smoothly at first, following their old tracks, but eventually the
party lost its way in overcast weather and storms. Then rations ran short with the moun-
tains still nowhere in view. By December 11 the men began to glimpse land during clear-
ing moments, but they did not recognize where they were, and for the most part marched
blind. On December 15 the ice surface began to descend, taking the party through an ice
disturbance, still uncertain of location. The ice steepened and Lashly slipped, pulling the
sledge and the other harnessed men with him. The group accelerated down the incline,
bodies flying, as the smooth ice turned rough. The party was suddenly airborne, then
stopped abruptly in a snowfield. The men were bruised, but they had no broken bones.
Upon picking themselves up, they recognized where they were in the upper reaches of
Ferrar Glacier, so set a course for Depot Nunatak and the food that they so urgently
needed.
The day's adventures were not over, however, for as the three men descended the
first of the two rolling icefalls, both Scott and Evans dropped into a crevasse. The sledge
jumped the crevasse as Lashly braced and managed to hold it from slipping back into the
slot, where the others were left dangling on their traces twelve feet down in midair, “with
blue walls on either side and a very horrid-looking gulf below.” As hoar crystals rained
down on their heads, Scott, then Evans, managed to swing over to a narrow shelf of ice,
where they stabilized themselves. With his one free hand Lashly managed to shore up
the sledge with a couple of extra sled runners, but he was unable to let go lest it fall into
the slot. Consequently, Scott had to shinny up the rope, a challenge almost beyond the
strength that he could muster given his bulky clothing and rapidly freezing hands. But
this crevasse was not to be his undoing, and Evans was helped in his ascent by some pull
from Scott's harness that had been lowered to him.
That night in the calm lee of Depot BluV, Scott's party savored warm hoosh and
was relieved that the worst now lay behind. (Hoosh was a sort of thick soup made of
crumbled biscuit and pemmican with a little water. Pemmican was the staple trail food,
made of a combination of chopped and compressed dried beef, suet, and vegetables.) The
descent of Ferrar Glacier would bring warmer temperatures and a series of replenishing
depots. Having reached the Knobhead moraine by December 16, fit and well fed, Scott
decided to follow the northern arm of the glacier that rounded the corner of the Kukri
Hills. On December 17 the party pulled across Ferrar Glacier onto the northern arm. The
ablation-pitted ice was rough on the sledge runners as the party descended. Several miles
along, the glacier took a turn to the east. From there they followed a trail of boulders for
several more miles down a sparse moraine, until the ice became too rough and the gradi-
ent too steep for the good of the sleds. At that point the party set up camp in the lee of
