I9II] THE WANDERER'S EXPERIENCE 237 



an old fish trap hole, which he knew to be 200 yards from the 

 Cape, He made this 200 yards in the direction he supposed 

 correct, and found nothing. In such a situation had he turned 

 east he must have hit the land somewhere close to the hut and 

 so found his way to it. The fact that he did not, but attempted 

 to wander straight on, is clear evidence of the mental condition 

 caused by that situation. There can be no doubt that in a bliz- 

 zard a man has not only to safeguard the circulation in his 

 limbs, but must struggle with a sluggishness of brain and an 

 absence of reasoning power which is far more likely to undo 

 him. 



In fact Atkinson has really no very clear idea of what 

 happened to him after he missed the Cape. He seems to have 

 wandered aimlessly up wind till he hit an island; he walked all 

 round this; says he couldn't see a yard at this time; fell often 

 into the tide crack; finally stopped under the lee of some rocks; 

 here got his hand frostbitten owing to difficulty of getting frozen 

 mit on again, finally got it on; started to dig a hole to wait in. 

 Saw something of the moon and left the island; lost the moon 

 and wanted to go back; could find nothing; finally stumbled on 

 another island, perhaps the same one; waited again, again saw 

 the moon, now clearing; shaped some sort of course by it — 

 then saw flare on Cape and came on rapidly — says he shouted 

 to someone on Cape quite close to him, greatly surprised not to 

 get an answer. It is a rambling tale to-night and a half thawed 

 brain. It is impossible to listen to such a tale without appreci- 

 ating that it has been a close escape or that there would have 

 been no escape had the blizzard continued. The thought that 

 it would return after a short lull was amongst the worst with 

 me during the hours of waiting. 



2 A.M. — The search parties have returned and all is well 

 again, but we must have no more of these very unnecessary 

 escapades. Yet it is impossible not to realise that this bit of 

 experience has done more than all the talking I could have ever 

 accomplished to bring home to our people the dangers of a 

 blizzard. 



Wednesday, July 5. — Atkinson has a bad hand to-day, im- 

 mense blisters on every finger giving them the appearance of 

 sausages. To-night Ponting has photographed the hand. 



As I expected, some amendment of Atkinson's tale as writ- 



