



Produced by Robert J. Hall




[Page ii]
[Illustration: Captain Robert F. Scott R.N.

_J. Russell & Sons, Southsea, photographers_]


[Page iii]
THE VOYAGES OF CAPTAIN SCOTT


_Retold from 'The Voyage of the "Discovery"' and 'Scott's Last
Expedition'_


BY CHARLES TURLEY

Author of 'Godfrey Marten, Schoolboy,' 'A Band of Brothers,' etc.


With an introduction by

SIR J. M. BARRIE, BART.


Numerous illustrations in colour and black and white and a map




[Page v]
CONTENTS

  INTRODUCTION

  THE VOYAGE OF THE 'DISCOVERY'

  Chapter
       I. The 'Discovery'.
      II. Southward Ho!
     III. In Search of Winter Quarters.
      IV. The Polar Winter.
       V. The Start of the Southern Journey.
      VI. The Return.
     VII. A Second Winter.
    VIII. The Western Journey.
      IX. The Return from the West.
       X. Release.

  THE LAST EXPEDITION

  Chapter
          Preface to 'Scott's Last Expedition'.
          Biographical Note.
          British Antarctic Expedition, 1910.
[Page vi]
       I. Through Stormy Seas.
      II. Depot Laying to One Ton Camp.
     III. Perils.
      IV. A Happy Family.
       V. Winter.
      VI. Good-bye to Cape Evans.
     VII. The Southern Journey Begins.
    VIII. On the Beardmore Glacier.
      IX. The South Pole.
       X. On the Homeward Journey.
      XI. The Last March.
          Search Party Discovers the Tent.
          In Memoriam.
          Farewell Letters.
          Message to the Public.
          Index.




[Page vii]
ILLUSTRATIONS

  _PHOTOGRAVURE PLATE_

    Portrait of Captain Robert F. Scott
      _From a photograph by J. Russell & Son, Southsea_.

  _COLOURED PLATES_

    _From Water-Colour Drawings by Dr. Edward A. Wilson._.

    Sledding.
    Mount Erebus.
    Lunar Corona.
    'Birdie' Bowers reading the thermometer on the ramp.

  _DOUBLE PAGE PLATE_

    Panorama at Cape Evans.
    Berg in South Bay.

  _FULL PAGE PLATES_

    Robert F. Scott at the age of thirteen as a naval cadet.
    The 'Discovery'.
    Looking up the gateway from Pony Depot.
    Pinnacled ice at mouth of Ferrar Glacier.
    Pressure ridges north side of Discovery Bluff.
    The 'Terra Nova' leaving the Antarctic.
    Pony Camp on the barrier.
    Snowed-up tent after three days' blizzard.
    Pitching the double tent on the summit.
[Page viii]
    Adelie Penguin on nest.
    Emperor Penguins on sea-ice.
    Dog party starting from Hut Point.
    Dog lines.
    Looking up the gateway from Pony Depot.
    Looking south from Lower Glacier depot,
    Man hauling camp, 87th parallel.
    The party at the South Pole.
    'The Last Rest'.

    Facsimile of the last words of Captain Scott's Journal.

    Track chart of main southern journey.




[Page 1]
INTRODUCTION

BY SIR J. M. BARRIE, BART.

On the night of my original meeting with Scott he was but lately
home from his first adventure into the Antarctic and my chief
recollection of the occasion is that having found the entrancing
man I was unable to leave him. In vain he escorted me through the
streets of London to my home, for when he had said good-night I then
escorted him to his, and so it went on I know not for how long through
the small hours. Our talk was largely a comparison of the life of
action (which he pooh-poohed) with the loathsome life of those who
sit at home (which I scorned); but I also remember that he assured
me he was of Scots extraction. As the subject never seems to have
been resumed between us, I afterwards wondered whether I had drawn
this from him with a promise that, if his reply was satisfactory, I
would let him go to bed. However, the family traditions (they are
nothing more) do bring him from across the border. According to
them his great-great-grandfather was the Scott of Brownhead whose
estates were sequestered after the '45. His dwelling was razed
to the ground and he fled with his wife, to whom after some grim
privations a son was born in a fisherman's hut on September 14,
1745. This son eventually settled in Devon, where he prospered,
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for it was in the beautiful house of Oatlands that he died. He
had four sons, all in the Royal Navy, of whom the eldest had as
youngest child John Edward Scott, father of the Captain Scott who
was born at Oatlands on June 6, 1868. About the same date, or perhaps
a little earlier, it was decided that the boy should go into the
Navy like so many of his for-bears.

I have been asked to write a few pages about those early days of
Scott at Oatlands, so that the boys who read this book may have
some slight acquaintance with the boy who became Captain Scott;
and they may be relieved to learn (as it holds out some chance
for themselves) that the man who did so many heroic things does
not make his first appearance as a hero. He enters history aged
six, blue-eyed, long-haired, inexpressibly slight and in velveteen,
being held out at arm's length by a servant and dripping horribly,
like a half-drowned kitten. This is the earliest recollection of
him of a sister, who was too young to join in a children's party
on that fatal day. But Con, as he was always called, had intimated
to her that from a window she would be able to see him taking a
noble lead in the festivities in the garden, and she looked; and
that is what she saw. He had been showing his guests how superbly
he could jump the leat, and had fallen into it.

Leat is a Devonshire term for a running stream, and a branch of
the leat ran through the Oatlands garden while there was another
branch, more venturesome, at the bottom of the fields. These were
the waters first ploughed by Scott, and he invented many ways of
being in them accidentally, it being forbidden
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to enter them of intent. Thus he taught his sisters and brother
a new version of the oldest probably of all pastimes, the game of
'Touch.' You had to touch 'across the leat,' and, with a little
good fortune, one of you went in. Once you were wet, it did not
so much matter though you got wetter.

An easy way of getting to the leat at the foot of the fields was
to walk there, but by the time he was eight Scott scorned the easy
ways. He invented parents who sternly forbade all approach to this
dangerous waterway; he turned them into enemies of his country and
of himself (he was now an admiral), and led parties of gallant tars
to the stream by ways hitherto unthought of. At foot of the avenue