So far we had seen no sign of the very hard surface that Captain Scott speaks of in connection with his journey on the Northern Plateau, but we were determined not to give up hopes of better surfaces, for without them we knew that we should not reach the Pole. As Christmas approached our thoughts naturally turned to home and the festivities and joys of the time. How greatly we longed to hear "the hansoms slurring through the London mud" it is impossible to say. But instead of the sights and sounds of London we were lying in a little tent, isolated high on the roof of the end of the world, far indeed from the trodden paths of men. Nevertheless our thoughts flew across the wastes of snow and ice, and across the oceans to those for whom we were striving, and who, we knew, were thinking of us. By noon on Christmas Day we had by hard hauling covered over five miles, and had reached a latitude of 85° 51′ south. Then I took a photograph of the camp with the Queen's flag flying and also our tent flags, my companions being in the picture, and in the evening we had a splendid dinner, the details of which I cannot refrain from giving. First came "hoosh," consisting of pony ration boiled up with pemmican and some of our emergency Oxo and biscuit. Then in the cocoa-water I boiled our little plum pudding, which a friend of Wild's had given him. This, with a drop of medical brandy, was a luxury which the greatest glutton living might have envied. And afterwards came cocoa; and, lastly, cigars and a spoonful of liqueur sent us by a friend in Scotland. We were really satisfied for once, and as we knew that we should not be in that happy state again for many a long day, we discussed the situation after dinner and decided still further to reduce our food. On Christmas Day we were nearly 250 geographical miles from the Pole, and having one month's food but only three weeks' biscuit, we resolved to make each week's food last ten days, and to throw away everything except the most absolute necessities. Already we were as regards clothes down to the limit, but at this time we decided also to dump a lot of spare gear--and risk it. Pulling 150 lb. per man, we spent our Boxing Day among ridges and crevasses. Every time we reached the top of a ridge we said to ourselves, "Perhaps this is the last," but the last was long in coming. And in the meantime our maize was nearly finished, and our rations were bound to be shorter than ever. Considering that hard half-cooked maize gave us indigestion, it is, perhaps, curious that we were very sorry that there was so little of it left, but those who have suffered from both hunger and indigestion know too well which is the harder to endure.