THE END.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXVII, Issue 57, 7 November 1913, Page 4

THE END.

GAFTAiN SCOTTS DSARY. “I AM NOT AFRAID.” fliy Electric Telegraph—Copyright] I United Press Association.] London, November 5. Scott’s diary has been published. \i riling co Ids mother while Ids end was approaching, lie said; “The great End Jars called me, but take comfort. I die >n peace with the world and myself. 1 am not afraid.” He wrote a pathetic letter to Ins wife regarding Ids son Peter, saving: ‘‘Make him a strenuous man.” ihe entry on March 11 narrates a discussion regarding Captain Oates. It concludes: “There was one satisfactory result; I practically ordered Dr. Wilson to hand over the means of ending our troubles, so that anyone of us j would know how to do so. l)r. Wil-

son had no choice between doing so or our ransacking of his medicine case. We have thirty opium tabloids apiece, and W ilson has a tube of morphine.” So much for the tragical side of the storv.

Later,’writing to Sir James Barrie, the novelist, Captain Scott adds: ‘ We did not intend to finish ourselves had tilings proved like this, but have decided to die naturally in the track.” V\ riting to Sir James Barrie, his son’s godfather, Captain Scott said: “We’re pegging out in a very comfortless spot. lam not afraid of the end, but have had to miss many humble pleasures 1 planned for the future. On other long marches I may not have proved a great explorer, but we made the greatest march ever made. We

came very near great success. As a dying man, my good friend, be good to my wife and child. Clive the boy a chance in life if the State won’t do it. He ought to have good stuff in him.”

Writing to Mrs Wilson: “If this reaches you, Bill and I have gone out together. I should like you to know how splendid he was at the end, everlastingly cheerful and ready to sacrifice himself, with never a word to blame to me for leading him into this mess. His eyes have a comfortable bine look of hope.” Scott’s diary continued that his mind was peaceful with the satisfaction of his faith in regarding himself as part of a great scheme of the Almighty. “T can do no more to comfort yon,” he adds', “than tell you that I have died as I have lived, a brave: and true- man, with the best of comrades and i the staunchest of friends.- *My whole heart goes out to you in pity.” • Writing- to Admiral .'BridgeSnang he said::! “I want to tell yon I was- not fco old for this job. The younger men went under first. We could have come tbrngh had we neglected the sick.”

THE LAST ENTRIES. ' The entries after reaching the Pole occasionally suggest something like resentment at being forestalled. On January 17 he writes: ‘“The Pole—yes! But under very different circumstances from those expected. We had a horrible day. Great God! This awful place: and it’s terrible enough for ns to have labored to it without the reward of priority. Well, it is something to Ijave got here.” He concludes: “Now for the run home, if we can do it.” Another entry reads: “We built a cairn and put up the poor, slighted Union Jack, and photographed ourselves. It was mighty cold work, all of it. Xo doubt the Norwegians made thoroughly sure of their mark, and fully carried out their programme. Well, we have turned our backs now upon the goal of our ambition, and must face 800 miles of solid dragging; and good-hve to most of our day-

dreams.” On March 20 he says: “The first forlorn hope. Wilson and Bowers are going to One-ton Camp for fuel.”

Entries on the 22nd and 23rd read: “The blizzard is as bad as ever. Wilson and Bowers are unable to start. To-morrow will be our last chance, and we’ll have to decide what our end shall he. It is natural that we shall march for the depot with or without effects, and die in our track's.” The next entry, on the 25th, says: “Since the 21st there has been a continuous sou’-west gale. We have fuel enough to make two cups of tea apiece ,and hare food for two days. Every day we have been ready to start for the depot, but outside the door of the tent remains a scene of whirling drift. T don’t think I can hop© for any better tilings now. We shall stick if out to the end, but are getting weaker, and the end cannot be / far. It seems a pity, but T don’t think I can write more.—R. Scott.” Then follows the last entry: “For God’s sake, look after our people.”