Friday Feb. 21st.

David did the met. this morning and when I went in to send it off he said that the temperature had fallen right down to -1℉. It really is ridiculous, but rather disturbing this time, for we have been resting the Petter during the hot spell, and I doubted if it would start again. We didn't get it to go for a bit, but getting the plug really hot did the trick and off she went, and we were only five minutes late for the ionosphere run.

During the morning it began to snow and since then it has been blizzarding. The Little Blacks seem to prefer our porch to their house and now they are all piled up against the door and don't even move when you go through. I am making real friends with more of them now, but Euphemia is still the general pet. Poor Dreng is still alive.

Tried to get on with the Base Camp chapter of book in the afternoon but could write nothing. I read right through the diary and am thoroughly ashamed of it.

Heard from Robert at night that the sledgers had not reached him yet. We hope they are at B and sent messages up to them there. It really is a bad arrangement Sandy's not having a transmitter - or is it? They may of course possibly be still at the Advanced Base and Brownie could hardly have come back today in the blizzard. The ice is still going out and there is a head of water now right up to Cairn Point.

Saturday Feb.22nd.

Slept through one alarm clock this morning and when I woke up the other said 7.22. Jumped out of bed to find the chronometer saying 7.19. Raced in to put windproofs over pyjamas, and komagers on feet, couldn't find matches to light the candles with, got a new box, rushed out to take the met. forgot to look at snow so guessed it when I got back - an extraordinary good guess it was - turned off the Petter, coded and got the wireless ready one minute before time. And after all that trouble couldn't get the met. through. They got all except one group, but I could never read what group it was - I always lose my head after a few words - and though I sent the whole met. twice again I don't think they ever got it. They did not reply to my last transmission - now 7.57 - so I gave up and saw to fire and breakfast, so the others had a good sleep till 8.30. Looked in to see poor Dreng; he looked up but later when David went in he wouldn't even raise his head. Later, however, he took Oxo, but for the first time whined miserably when David moved his leg. The poor dog took a lot of Oxo at night and was looking better, but we still want to shoot him.

Otherwise all has gone well. But all the ice north of Cairn Point has now gone out! A murky misty day, without much wind. David and Dan are wonderful companions we have long talks at meal times and peace otherwise, and for the first time for some time I feel I have time on my hands. Dan is certainly the most "intellectual" member of the expedition, and though I am still a bit afraid of him on that account I like him immensely all the same. He falls asleep, reading, almost continuously except when he is making a meal or doing something useful. David is the perfect companion, always helping and anticipating your wants. We heard from Robert that the sledgers have not arrived at A. Great conjectures as to where they are. "Bet you anything something we hadn't expected has been decided upon."

Colonel frightfully crusty this morning - his coffee must have been cold or weak - and growled when you talk to him, and when a Little Black went near he snapped the neatest of holes in its ear - it scampered away yelling loudly holding its head to one side. Later I saw Dupelik laying out one of his daughters - we always thought him a gentleman. The Little Blacks have absolutely taken the porch by storm and now don't even move when you go out, so you just have to step on them. They are getting more distinguishable and today I identified a Pinkiak.

Excited to hear Ireland beat Scotland at rugger (Ireland seems to be doing well this year) but bitterly disappointed to here Magdalen bumped New College.

Sunday Feb. 23rd.

Dan did the met. this morning, and though I had only shown him the way about roughly at noon yesterday, he did it and even all the coding with only one small mistake - he has learned much quicker than any of the others. It was a beautiful morning but there was no change in the state of the ice. In the afternoon we three went for a short Sunday walk in the bay ice; we think that there is no-one further North doing such a thing. It recalled the frightful Sunday walks I had to undergo as a small schoolboy, and I thought of the crowds of respectfully dressed citizens having their walk on the Downs; it must be dead now but will soon be springing to life. Except at the tide-crack, where I put my foot right through and got soaked, the ice was firm, and we went as far as the blue iceberg in Zeipel Bay. There was a red glow in the N.W. and the tops of all the hills round the bay were lit up in a beautiful manner which we could not explain. Though we had taken the trouble to arm ourselves we never saw even the tracks of anything else.

Heard from Robert at night that the sledgers have not reached A. Heaven knows where they are. Dreng is much better, moving his head about with vigour, yawning and absolutely attacking his food. In the morning I foxed the Little Blacks temporarily by putting a handle on the door of the porch. I don't expect it will last long, but all the other attempts - and there have been many - have failed through not observing the Base Camp rule, that in anything you make you must make use of some part of the Benndorf. Daniel's somnulence is amazing - he usually sleeps through large parts of the afternoon or evening; this evening he fell asleep during supper much to David's amusement and mine. Now 10.30pm. he is cooking himself a second supper.

Monday Feb. 24th.

An eventful day. First of all Dan went outside at 6am. and came back saying that the black team except Uncle and Kayunguak were outside. This set us conjecturing at breakfast as to what can possibly have happened now.

John had calculated that the sun should be visible here tomorrow, but we calculated ourselves yesterday evening that it should certainly be visible today from the top of Snotoppen - we cannot calculate exactly as we don't know the angle of the ice-cap above the horizon. So we decided last night that if it were clear we would damn the ionosphere etc. and climb Snotoppen and sun-worship. However it was overcast early so we did not cancel the noon report to Bear Island. However all the time I was doing the charts in the morning the clouds began to break in the South, and became coloured by a more and more vivid red. Just before starting the ionosphere run, I noticed that a lot of the colour had left the sky, and was almost certain that the sun was just visible above the ice-cap. I got the field-glasses, and there it was, less than a quarter of a huge red ball, but no doubt about it. The others came out and we were all entranced and excited, we watched it and photographed it before returning to the ionosphere. It was an occasion for which we had been waiting long, and one of such beauty that it should be described better and more fully than here.

From Robert at last we got news, and as expected, unexpected. B station had been evacuated and we were to expect Brownie, Archie and Sandy at the Base this evening; John and Andrew were at A with him, and Andrew would stay.

At supper time it was dark and there was no sign of the sledgers, so we assumed that they couldn't come as they'd lost their dogs. Looking back on it, it was a most selfish little party we had that night; there was one bottle of champagne that was to be drunk on the day of the sun's return and we were certainly justified in having it. But what is one among three? Another bottle was for the departure of the Northern Journey, but our first conclusion when we heard Andrew was staying at A was that the Northern Journey is cancelled. For months this problematical journey has been being prepared for, sometimes it would seem possible, then the ice would go out or a dog would be lost and it would be off. Recently a smaller modified Northern Journey without a supporting party has seemed possible; I think all of us are getting fed up with it, and in favour only in that it is something for Andrew to do something on. But with Andrew at A it seemed definitely off, so we argued that two bottles among three people and one among nine is better than one bottle among three people and two among nine. So we had the Northern Journey bottle too! I think we - I certainly so - felt upset that our little party would be broken up next day. David and Dan get on frightfully well together - they will live together most of the summer in Murchison Bay - and I like them both very much. What we have done in the last week is little - there are a lot of things undone that should have been done, but we have been late to bed, up early and I have read only about 20 pages of a book. We have spent literally hours talking and gossiping over meals. It's funny that as soon as there is a change anywhere the departed people are criticised severely and their characters picked to pieces - not nastily, I think, and it is really much the most interesting part of the expedition that you get such a close insight in other people's characters. "Helply" as Karl would say, would be a fitting adjective for David and Dan for they have most willingly helped me with my work all the week. I have hardly been able to prepare a meal even. I hope there will be more enjoyable weeks than this one, for they will be sublime.

Soon afterwards the others arrived, with Sesse and Merratark. Kayunguak and Teriangniak had refused to move half way across the Bay, and they had to leave them and the sledge. Brownie had not had his tooth taken out, and they left the pincers in the dump, so he has to endure the tooth till they can be fetched. A great to-do (and under cover of a smoke-screen from a burnt rissole I managed to get the champagne bottles outside and down the tide-crack) and a lot said before they retired to bed.

Dreng is much better physically and ate meat, though we cannot look at his wound as touching his leg causes such pain.

Tuesday Feb.18th.

Wonderful to have the others back again. An unpleasant warm windy and drifty day and it was spent mostly indoors doing various things. Managed to fix a mount for the telephoto lens for Andrew's camera. Had roast bear at night and enjoyed it though it was burnt on the outside and raw inside.

Wednesday Feb. 19th.

Was up earlier today to inspect the weather and to get breakfast ready as early as possible. It was somewhat retarded by my not being able to find John. When I got out of bed I noticed he was not in his bunk above mine, and it appeared to have all the clothes on it that it had when I went to bed before him last night; he was not to be seen in any of the other bunks or in the next room - thought he might have gone to sleep on working out his astronomical observations. No sign of him outside up and early; thought he must have gone outside when we were in bed and been polished off by a bear, but no human remains about, nor could I see him anywhere chasing bears, nor in the observatory. So I gave up the search.

It was fine outside cloudy with a moderate wind and intensely hot - up to 20℉. Andrew was doubtful as to whether they should start and said he would decide after breakfast. Then as I went into the larder to get the eggs I stepped on John - the real Arctic explorer trying to get away from the tropical heat! After breakfast there was the usual long deliberation as to whether they should go; finally decided when Dan came into the room and said "what a fine day for sledging it is." The party consisted of Andrew, John and Brownie going first to B and thence nobody knew whither. Brownie was going to B to have a tooth removed. They finally got off at 10am. So David, Dan and I were left at the Base, and though it has turned out to be a nice day we have had a lazy time. Ionosphere run as usual, and I was dreading sending the met. to Bear Island as Brownie had failed to get through in the morning, but I sent both reports three times and he got it ok - and again in the evening.

After taking 2 hours over lunch David made some first class rock buns and scones in the afternoon. Couldn't read Robert's morse at night as his note jumped from one pitch to another. We fried the bear at night - and found it quite good. After supper David - rather bravely I thought as he was not very certain what to do - lanced Dreng's leg. His wound is ghastly and the poor animal is in such a state. Then a quiet evening.

Thursday Feb.20th.

What is the good of coming here? I do wish that John had been here at the Base for the temperature, 27℉ in the morning, rose steadily and reached the phenomenal temperature of 32.4℉ - thawing in February when we were told to expect -40℉. Robert was sweltering in 23℉.

An inactive day, though anything but unpleasant. Daniel is a fine conversationalist, and David likes talking and arguing, so our mealtimes occupy no small fraction of the day. With an effort we broke up breakfast and cleaned out the water butt and were generally active in the morning - ionosphere, met and developing as usual. Dan, who had a bad time on the Wahlenberg Bay journey and is very tired, slept from 3pm. to supper which started at 7 and finished at 9.30. You get a wonderful insight into characters and human nature on an expedition like this and no sooner is there an exodus than everybody's character is analysed and discussed at length. Expedition matters are a constant source for discussion, and there is always a lot of mutiny about. Learnt by accident today that Archie is leading the summer survey journey (John and Archie), a most ridiculous idea - so much so that I never thought but that John would do so, as he is the expedition surveyor, while Archie knows little about it, and has planned all the survey and equipment etc. and has more experience and enthusiasm. The fact that Archie is organiser of the expedition has nothing to do with the case - we all had no end of preparations to make for our scientific work while he had none. It must have been a big blow to poor John but outwardly he has borne up well; it would mean something to him to lead the journey and make a success of it for he is eminently an explorer and will come again, but I don't suppose Archie intends to.

Poor Dreng is still alive; last night since the smell in the hall was getting pretty bad and it was so warm we opened the door and piled packing cases in front to leave the top open, but Dreng got out during the night. He seemed so much happier outside that we left him till it was getting dark when David put him in one of the doghouses - much to Dupelik's annoyance as he seemed to regard that one as his own. David couldn't get Dreng to eat anything today. I wish we could put an end to his life; I can't bear to look at him - he hardly lies down but just keeps his head off the ground, waiting. Old Dupelik is a character - he now reminds me of the white haired limping guide in Oxford, for when you go out of the door, he limps up to you and buttonholes you, though I don't quite know why. The Oarks are as ever but more bullying to the little Blacks - I love them more and more daily. Tonight when Dreng wouldn't take the marmite soup David gave him, he gave it - in a pie dish, to the eight; they all tried to get their noses in and it was slid on the snow backwards and forwards like a ball in a scrum. It came out cleaner than it has ever been before.

Started on the mustard and cress today - grown on flannel - and found it absolutely natural to taste, but yellow in colour. Fresh vegetables and vitamins!

Just before we went to bed last night, ie. early this morning David remembered that this is the official half-way through the expedition, but though it occurred to me several times during the day we did nothing about it. But it is astounding how quickly time has flown since John, Andrew and David arrived here. It is unbelievable that it is two months since Christmas. Up till then time did drag a bit, but since then it has been quite the opposite and I hate to think it will be all over soon.

Saturday Feb 16th.

Saturday Feb 16th.

Another beautiful quiet day. First excitement was when Brownie saw a bear on the coast to the South. He and John armed themselves and went after it, but the bear went faster and they never got within range. They noticed a bird when they were out - the first this year.

Later in the morning John sent up one of his balloons at the end of a string just as a trial - he had fortunately found the key of the hydrogen cylinders after a long search. The first balloon was seized and punctured by Ionoark who was chased at great speed by John before she gave it up. The next was kept from the dogs though the little blacks swarmed in masses all around, and was slowly inflated. When about 3 ft. in diameter John released it, and it rose rapidly moving at first slightly to the North though the surface wind was gentle from the North. Then after ascending vertically for some time it met a higher current from the North at about 250 feet and drifted South. So far, so good. Next it was to be pulled in on the winch, (ie. a sledge wheel.) John was most proficient at this till Brownie put in a hand and then it went so fast that the string ran off the rim and got so hopelessly entangled round the axle that they had to cut the string and knot it. Then John brought it in at a great pace, but was so concentrating on his swinging style that he neglected to watch the balloon and continued winding as the latter rapidly approached the earth. It rushed into the staple through which the string was guided, broke the string, and reversed its direction of motion. In a few minutes it was out of sight towards the ice-cap. Robert has not seen it.

We have been out of whale-meat meal for the last few days and the Colonel, the Oarks and the Little Blacks have to be fed on bully. The latter are getting pugnacious and when I take the met. readings there are eight mouths eating and thirty-two feet scratching at my trousers. Euphemia continues to be especially friendly, but she is rather an outcast from the family. It must have been fine sledging today, and the others should be back in a few days.

Have been lazy and morose lately; must wake up, so started energetically on a skeleton for suggested chapter in book on base-camp, and wrote till late.

Sunday Feb. 16th.

It's always Sunday here. Took drastic measures with the hygrograph and thermograph both of which at this time give endless trouble and practically no results. They should be better now. Though rather misty and dull, I could chop firewood in the bedroom soon after noon without artificial light - a distinct advance. John went up Snotoppen to ski, but got little and got lost on the way home; Brownie went up the glacier later, but I practised skiing on our nursery slope and made a little improvement thanks to a suggestion of Brownie's. Afterwards wrote up book chapter hard. Clear at night with Polaris and Aurora working.

I win a moral victory; it's a curious habit of almost all members of the expedition when anybody does anything for anybody or for the common weel to ejaculate "marvellous" or "wonderful" or "wizard", to which I always reply with the proverb "Praise in departing." The loaves I made this time brought forth the usual comments, but there is an enormous cavern in the middle of each surrounded by a wet layer of unbaked dough. Now I fancy there will be refusals.

Monday Feb. 17th

An absolutely epic day. At first pottered about a bit, rearranging the things around the fire so as to find a new place near the fire for the saennegras. Then after the ionosphere run John and I decided to go for a walk North, putting up the fallen traps on the way. I wanted to try out my finneskos. John decided to get the automatic rifle working as a defence weapon so we didn't get off till soon after noon.

It had been a glorious morning with only a few cirrus streaks in the South. The wind was getting up as we set out, but we had our backs to it. Just as we were looking for the first trap John said, "There's a bear" and there it was galloping easily but quickly from an iceberg on the bay ice towards the shore. John has a bad leg, so I went back for the revolver - he had the automatic rifle - and to tell Brownie to come along when he had finished with Bear Island. Ran hard both ways, and John had walked on looking for him. We soon found old tracks of his following John's tracks of yesterday, and then struck the ones he had just made. We followed them to land and then they went along the bay ice round a point. We went ahead warily and then found the tracks going to land. Here we lost them and scanned the screes and cliffs; I saw a yellow patch half way up a snow slope and suggested it was he. John didn't seem to see it and I never trust my eyes so we walked on. Then I saw the tracks going up to the yellow rock and just at the same time John saw it and it got up and glissaded down the slope towards us. We cocked our guns for he was evidently curious. He walked along the shore towards us, and then mounted a high ice-covered rock. He faced us from the top, and raised his head high in the air, then lowered into his paws, up and down. We decided to shoot simultaneously; mine failed to explode - but John made a marvellous 40 yard revolver shot. Standing high on the rock the bear just collapsed and fell off head first. We approached carefully and John put in two more bullets for safety, but there is little doubt but that he was dead. As a matter of fact he turned out to be a she.

It was a really great event. Then of course we had no knives, so I went back for some and some rope, meeting Brownie on the way. When I got back I found they had moved her without a rope, and had dropped her down the tide crack. However one leg was above the surface and we got a rope round it and fortunately got her up on to the ice. What an anti-climax it would have been if we had lost her in the end. Then we proceeded to skin her under John's directions tho' he had never done a bear before. Brownie left after a bit to put on komagers - he only had climbing boots on - and to fetch an axe and John and I finished the skinning. Not half a messy as I expected, and the warm flesh and blood were very warming to cold hands. When Brownie returned we decided after all to finish the cutting up at the Base. So we pulled her along with ropes, and when we got to the Base cut off the legs and head and stowed them and the carcass on top of the porch and with difficulty we slung the skin up on the meat (?) rock. Just as we finished Brownie saw the sledges approaching and in a few minutes they were in. After that it was a confusion of voices and they all looked tired; they had had a terrible journey with practically no sleep owing to inadequate tents and li-los, so that their sleeping bags got soaked through.

Bear stew for supper - our first fresh meat for a long time, a good stew but the meat itself, though tender, was rather tasteless. Long talks about future plans etc for the rest of the day. Dreng has been almost killed by the Blacks.