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OHYAY: One Crock Down
Nov. 25th, 2011 03:12 pmWell, it had to happen sooner or later ...
ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO YESTERDAY Atch's pony Jehu put in his last march. It had been hard going for him and Chinaman* the past few days, and while this last march was easier on them, the order to put him down had already been made and planned for, and the dogs needed food. So at camp time 'The Barrier Wonder' was led back along the track a bit and Capt. Oates, the horse expert, laid him low with a shot from his pistol. When the dogs caught up with the pony party, they made a feast of him, though as Teddy Evans writes, 'the dogs were not the only ones who feasted on "Jehu's" flesh. Pony-meat cooks very well, and it was a rare delicacy to us, the man-haulers.' (from South With Scott)
Scott was philosophical:
Birdie, who was often sentimental about the animals, had a characteristically upbeat statement on the matter:
No one in my collection seems to have recorded Atch's or Oates' thoughts on the matter, though they were famously taciturn so perhaps nobody knew. There is the general impression of satisfaction that they got their worst pony 15 miles further south than Shackleton had a few years previously. Atch subsequently became a beast of burden himself, joining the ex-Motor Party pulling their sledge – and they needed the help, because the next morning their former members Day and Hooper turned back to Cape Evans. They took with them a note from Captain Scott, who was impressed with the speed and endurance of Meares' dog teams, to George Simpson (meteorogist), who was in charge of the scientific program while Bill was on the trail:
*Yes yes, I know: adorable as the Edwardians may be, they're salted with really staggeringly shocking racism, which hits you like a bite into something mouldy in a handful of delightful mixed nuts. Don't even get me started on the cat.
ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO YESTERDAY Atch's pony Jehu put in his last march. It had been hard going for him and Chinaman* the past few days, and while this last march was easier on them, the order to put him down had already been made and planned for, and the dogs needed food. So at camp time 'The Barrier Wonder' was led back along the track a bit and Capt. Oates, the horse expert, laid him low with a shot from his pistol. When the dogs caught up with the pony party, they made a feast of him, though as Teddy Evans writes, 'the dogs were not the only ones who feasted on "Jehu's" flesh. Pony-meat cooks very well, and it was a rare delicacy to us, the man-haulers.' (from South With Scott)
Scott was philosophical:After our doubts as to his reaching Hut Point, it is wonderful to think that he has actually gotten eight marches beyond our last year limit and could have gone more. However, towards the end, he was pulling very little, and on the whole it is merciful to have ended his life.
Birdie, who was often sentimental about the animals, had a characteristically upbeat statement on the matter:
A year's care and good feeding, three weeks' work with good treatment, a reasonable load and a good ration, and then a painless end. If anybody can call that cruel I cannot either understand it or agree with them.'
No one in my collection seems to have recorded Atch's or Oates' thoughts on the matter, though they were famously taciturn so perhaps nobody knew. There is the general impression of satisfaction that they got their worst pony 15 miles further south than Shackleton had a few years previously. Atch subsequently became a beast of burden himself, joining the ex-Motor Party pulling their sledge – and they needed the help, because the next morning their former members Day and Hooper turned back to Cape Evans. They took with them a note from Captain Scott, who was impressed with the speed and endurance of Meares' dog teams, to George Simpson (meteorogist), who was in charge of the scientific program while Bill was on the trail:
My dear Simpson,Are you prepared to be tested on that, sir?
This goes with Day and Hooper now returning. We are making fair progress and the ponies doing fairly well. I hope we shall get through to the glacier without difficulty, but to make sure I am bringing the dog-teams farther than I intended at first – the teams may be late returning, unfit for further work or non-existent ...'
*Yes yes, I know: adorable as the Edwardians may be, they're salted with really staggeringly shocking racism, which hits you like a bite into something mouldy in a handful of delightful mixed nuts. Don't even get me started on the cat.
