Party: the second to return, a month after starting the Summit Rations, was known as the Last Supporting Party. Of the two dog-teams under Meares, which had already turned homewards at the bottom of the glacier after having been brought forward farther than had been intended, I will speak later.[1]
I am going to say very little about the First Return Party, which consisted of Atkinson, Wright, Keohane and myself. Atkinson was in command, and before we left Scott told him to bring the dog-teams out to meet the Polar Party if, as seemed likely, Meares returned home. Atkinson is a naval surgeon and you will find this party referred to in Lashly's diary as "the Doctor's."
"It was a sad job saying good-bye. It was thick, snowing and drifting clouds when we started back after making the depôt, and the last we saw of them as we swung the sledge north was a black dot just disappearing over the next ridge and a big white pressure wave ahead of them. . . . Scott said some nice things when we said good-bye. Anyway he has only to average seven miles a day to get to the Pole on full rations—it's practically a cert for him. I do hope he takes Bill and Birdie. The view over the ice-falls and pressure by the Mill Glacier from the top of the ice-falls is one of the finest things I have ever seen. Atch is doing us proud."[2]
No five hundred mile journey down the Beardmore and across the Barrier can be uneventful, even in midsummer. We had the same dreary drag, the same thick weather, fears and anxieties which other parties have had. A touch of the same dysentery and sickness: the same tumbles and crevasses: the same Christmas comforts, a layer of plum pudding at the bottom of our cocoa, and some rocks collected from a moraine under the Cloudmaker: the same groping for tracks: the same cairns lost and found, the same snow-blindness and weariness, nightmares, food dreams. . . . Why repeat? Comparatively speaking it was a very little journey: and yet the distance from Cape Evans
