He strained his shoulder badly and had to use his axe with one hand. He then chopped his foot. Nobody was within miles of him and he couldn’t travel. His dogs starved. He ate a portion of one, but the others broke out in sores from their privations and had to be shot. He ate squirrels and whatever else he could get, but there was nothing for the dogs and in his crippled condition he could hardly hunt for himself. They all died except one, “Polar”. Friends since our first trip in 1919, when they hauled us from Red River Post ore the Peace River-to Fort Smith, 300 miles. Now all gone except Polar (3rd from lead) and it was a miraculous escape for Hornby. By spring, when
