5 February, 1911

Still at Corner Camp. The blizzard has lasted 24 hours so far. It blows very hard and out tent is being put to the test. One imagines it cannot continue long as at present, but remembers our proximity to Cape Crozier and the length of the blizzards recorded in that region. I do not know why I keep referring to myself in the third person.

Meanwhile, we sleep and eat and wonder at how the other tents are getting by. There is a rumor that Bowers's pony has eaten one of it's putties!

Two minutes outside the tent and one is turned white. Naturally, one does have to go outside a couple of times per day to do one's business. It's hell out there.

I am enjoying my pipe. If one ignores the howling wind, one can pretend one is beside one's fireplace enjoying civilized after-dinner conversation.

I wonder how long we'll be stuck here? The ponies must be absolutely miserable.