Wednesday, December 1, 2010

28 November, 1911

Camp 24

The most dismal start imaginable. Thick as a hedge, snow falling and drifting with keen southerly wind. It is lunch and the snow is getting thick again.

When will this wretched blizzard be over?


Second march almost as horrid as the first. Wind blowing strong from the south, shifting to SE as the snowstorms fell on us, when we could see little or nothing, and the driving snow hit us stingingly in the face.

Chinaman has been shot tonight. Plucky little chap, he stuck it out well and leaves the stage but a few days before his fellows. We have only four bags of forage left (each at 30 lbs), but these should give seven marches with all the remaining animals, and we are less than 90 miles from the Glacier. Bowers tells me the barometer was phenomenally low both during this blizzard and the last. This has certainly been the most unexpected and trying summer blizzard yet experienced in this region. I only trust it is over. There is not much to choose between the remaining ponies. Nobby and Bones are the strongest, Victor and Christopher the weakest, but all should get through.

The land doesn't show up yet.

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