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The dogs had a fine feed from the poor animal's carcass, and Meares was very glad, likewise Dimitri. Incidentally, 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.
That outward Barrier march will long be remembered, it was so full of life, health, and hope our only sad days came when the ponies were killed, one by one. But hunger soon defeated sentiment, and we grew to relish our pony-meat cooked in the pemmican "hoosh." On November 24 Oates slew poor old "Jehu" by a pistol shot in Latitude 81 degrees 15 minutes this being the first pony to go.
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