—from Douglas Mawson’s account “The Home of the Blizzard”—
“When comrades tramp the road to anywhere through a lonely blizzard-ridden land in hunger, want and weariness to interests, ties and fates of each are interwoven in a wondrous fabric of friendship and affection. The shock of Ninnis’ death struck home and deeply stirred us. . . .
“At 9 p.m. we stood by the side of the crevasse and I read the burial service. Then Mertz shook me by the hand with a short ‘Thank you!’ and we turned away to harness up the dogs.”