After some agonized probing, he decided the small round red mark had been made by the radio’s antenna post slamming into his skin. Around the spot was an alarmingly large purple bruise. The glow of the morning sun filtering through the orange nylon of his tent didn’t make his wounds look any prettier. He checked the two others and found the one on his arm was already healing but the one on his side was still bleeding. Luckily he still had his medical kit in his main pack, and so he was able to close the wound and bandage it. Finally convinced he had sustained no permanent damage, he got the dogs in order and set off once more towards Scott Base at McMurdo.He crossed half the remaining distance by mid- morning, and began trying to remember the track he’d taken out of Scott. The power of nine dogs could get him over most obstacles, but, with only four dogs and limited food, he grew more apprehensive with each new wrinkle he saw in the white landscape that loomed before him. Some of the cracks in the ice, while minute compared to the ice shelf as a whole, still presented formidable obstacles to his team.
