Thursday, March 18, 2010
18 March, 1911
Found a seal on some young ice pressed up against Hut Point and went to go kill it, but it slipped into the water.
What horrid weather we are having: I fear another blizzard will come up tomorrow.
I don't understand how dogs can want to sleep out in the snow. Surely they find it cold? Well, the docked ones must - they have nothing with which to cover their noses, and their private parts much take much abuse from the wind. The one that dropped into the crevasse looks poorly - his wound has turned gangrenous. I suppose some will say we should have shot him right away and used him as food for the other dogs rather than dwindle our precious supplies. Too late now. Best to let him die a slow painful death than be put out of his misery, I think: if there's a God, it is his way, and who are we to interfere?
Awful when it happens to men though. I hope we're never in such a spot.