Wilfred Thomason Grenfell

Wilfred Thomason Grenfell

Summary

Portrait of Wilfred Thomason Grenfell Wilfred Thomason Grenfell Adrift on an Ice-Pan (1909)

Yet I saw I must have the skins of some of my dogs,—of which I had eight on the pan,—if I was to live the night out. There was now some three to five miles between me and the north side of the bay. There, immense pans of Arctic ice, surging to and fro on the heavy ground seas, were thundering into the cliffs like medieval battering-rams. It was evident that, even if seen, I could hope for no help from that quarter before night. No boat could live through the surf.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Wilfred Thomason Grenfell Wilfred Thomason Grenfell Adrift on an Ice-Pan (1909)

Each time I sat down to rest, my big dog “Doc” came and kissed my face and then walked to the edge of the ice-pan, returning again to where I was huddled up, as if to say, “Why don’t you come along? Surely it is time to start.” The other dogs also were now moving about very restlessly, occasionally trying to satisfy their hunger by gnawing at the dead bodies of their brothers.
Source: Wikisource

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