Fortunately, his feet were not harmed.
Our party spent a quiet day, attending to clothing and gear, checking
stores, eating and resting. Some more of the young albatrosses made a
noble end in our pot. The birds were nesting on a small plateau above
the right-hand end of our beach. We had previously discovered that
when we were landing from the boat on the night of May 10 we had lost
the rudder. The 'James Caird' had been bumping heavily astern as we
were scrambling ashore, and evidently the rudder was then knocked off.
A careful search of the beach and the rocks within our reach failed to
reveal the missing article. This was a serious loss, even if the voyage
to the head of the sound could be made in good weather. At dusk the
ice in the cove was rearing and crashing on the beach. It had forced
up a ridge of stones close to where the 'James Caird' lay at the edge
of the tussock-grass. Some pieces of ice were driven right up to the
canvas wall at the front of our cave. Fragments lodged within two feet
of Vincent, who had the lowest sleeping-place, and within four feet of
our fire. Crean and McCarthy had brought down six more of the young
albatrosses in the afternoon, so we were well supplied with fresh food.
The air temperature that night probably was not lower than 38° or 40°
Fahr.
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