When morning came the snow was falling so heavily that
we could not see more than a few score yards ahead, and I decided not
to strike camp. A path over the shattered floes would be hard to find,
and to get the boats into a position of peril might be disastrous.
Rickenson and Worsley started back for Dump Camp at 7 a.m. to get some
wood and blubber for the fire, and an hour later we had hoosh, with one
biscuit each. At 10 a.m. Hurley and Hudson left for the old camp in
order to bring some additional dog-pemmican, since there were no seals
to be found near us. Then, as the weather cleared, Worsley and I made a
prospect to the west and tried to find a practicable road. A large
floe offered a fairly good road for at least another mile to the north-
west, and we went back prepared for another move. The weather cleared
a little, and after lunch we struck camp. I took Rickenson, Kerr,
Wordie, and Hudson as a breakdown gang to pioneer a path among the
pressure-ridges. Five dog teams followed. Wild's and Hurley's teams
were hitched on to the cutter and they started off in splendid style.
They needed to be helped only once; indeed fourteen dogs did as well or
even better than eighteen men. The ice was moving beneath and around
us as we worked towards the big floe, and where this floe met the
smaller ones there was a mass of pressed-up ice, still in motion, with
water between the ridges.
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