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"Still blizzarding," wrote Joyce on the 20th. "Things are serious, what with our patient and provisions running short. Dog provisions are nearly out, and we have to halve their rations. We are now on one cup of hoosh among the three of us, with one biscuit and six lumps of sugar. The most serious of calamities is that our oil is running out. We have plenty of tea, but no fuel to cook it with."
The men in Mackintosh's tent were in no better plight. Mackintosh himself was in a bad way. He was uncertain about his ability to resume the march, but was determined to try. "Still blizzarding," wrote Joyce again on the 21st. "We are lying in pools of water made by our bodies through staying in the same place for such a long time. I don't know what we shall do if this does not ease.
It turned colder in the night, and the wind shifted to the northwest. In the morning it was blizzarding. The air was full of fine snow blown before the wind, and before noon you could not see across the street. Some of the smaller houses were almost drifted under. This kept up for three days.
I think the party must be within a very short distance, but we cannot go on as we might pass them, and as we have not got any position to go on except compass. Later. Kept on blizzarding all afternoon and night. "February 29, Tuesday. Up at 5 o'clock; still very thick.
Still blizzarding, but have decided to get under way as we will have to try and travel through everything, as Hayward is getting worse, and one doesn't know who is the next. No mistake it is scurvy, and the only possible cure is fresh food. I sincerely hope the ship is in; if not we shall get over the hills by Castle Rock, which is rather difficult and will delay another couple of days.
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