Scott of the Antarctic Page #3

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- Only what I've read.

When I saw you were taking ponies,

I thought perhaps I'd come in handy.

- Fit?

- As a fiddle.

- Age?

- 29.

- Married?

- No.

- It will be tough.

- I know.

- As Hades.

- But not so warm, eh?

But I think we can manage it.

- We?

- That's what I said.

- Do you mean you'll take me?

- Glad to.

- You're on the strength.

- I say.

- Here's a tram. Come on.

- I say, just a moment.

This any good?

- This is for 1,000.

- Yes. Any good?

'Instead of sitting waiting

for the money to come in,

'I'm taking the opportunity

of trying out my motor sledges.'

You see the idea, Dr Nansen?

The wheels make their own road

as it goes along.

- What do you think of it?

- Yes, what do you think?

I'm afraid Dr Nansen

doesn't like motors, dear.

That is so.

I like dogs.

I can't help feeling that we should use

every modern invention that comes along.

Somebody's got to try these things out.

I even thought of taking a wireless

telegraph apparatus, but it's too heavy.

You are right, Captain, but I like dogs.

Yes, yes, that's what Amundsen says too.

I've been hearing about his plans

for the North Pole.

Amundsen's a pupil of mine,

as you might say,

so of course he believes in dogs.

Well, perhaps I'm prejudiced,

but I should hate to repeat

the experience I had

on the Discovery expedition.

You see, we look on dogs

rather differently,

more as...

well, more as friends.

Captain, a friend in need

is a friend indeed.

This Antarctic of yours

is a cold and cruel place.

Even worse than the North.

A dog is an animal.

When a dog is finished,

he is still some use to other dogs,

and even to man if need be.

That machine of yours,

when it is finished,

it's just a heap of metal in the snow.

You cannot eat it.

That's true,

and I am not forgetting

the lessons of the past,

but I want to take the new things as well.

I shall take dogs, ponies and motors.

Well, I would take dogs, dogs and dogs.

Hello, Bill. Morning, Cherry.

- Morning.

- Good to see you.

- How's Kathleen?

- Splendid. Come along in.

- Morning, Atch.

- And the baby?

Peter? Wonderful, bald as a coot.

Morning, sir.

I'd know that mug anywhere.

Come out of it, Taff Evans.

I was rather surprised you didn't apply

to come with me again this time, Evans.

Didn't have to, sir.

I knew you'd send for me sooner or later.

My release is through at last.

I'm afraid there's no hurry, Bill.

- Good morning, sir.

- Good morning, Teddy.

Have a look at that.

At the rate the money's coming in,

you could go on

carving up grouse till Christmas.

Rather depressing. Time's getting on.

And none of us are getting any younger.

11:
30, Bowers? I thought I told you

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