–from Douglas Mawson’s account “The Home of the Blizzard”–
“All the dogs were thin and miserable when they reached the stage of extreme exhaustion. Their meat was tough, stringy, and without a vestige of fat. For a change we sometimes chopped it up finely, mixed it with a little pemmican, and brought it all to the boil in a large pot of water. We were extremely hungry, and the ration went but a short way to satisfy our cravings. . . . Overhead there was a dense pall of numbus from which the snow fell at intervals. None of the dogs except Ginger was equal to giving any ehlp with the load, and Mary was so worn out that she had to be carried on the sledge. Poor Mary had been a splendid dog, but we had to put an end to her at camping time, which was at 9 a.m., after a run of eighteen and a half miles. . . .
“I could not have wished for a better companion in such adversity than Mertz. He was always full of life and figfour and his good spirits helped to make those trying days pass as cheerfully as possible.”