COWS IN ANTARCTICA

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18335, 1 March 1934, Page 13

COWS IN ANTARCTICA

PUZZLED AND AFRAID BUT MILKED WELL “An incident of note” iu Little America during the time he was there, said Mr. B. R. O’Brien, of Wellington, who returned by tho Jacob Ruppert, “was the transportation of the cows over the bay ice abd up to the first cache. Tins work was entrusted to Byron Gay, the New York composer, Jim Sissons, of tfre G.P.f)'. Radio Department in Wellington, Muir, the third mate of the Jacob Ruppert, and my.* self. The cows were unloaded at 15 degrees below zero under a battery of movie cameras. “The reaction of the cows to the snow was interesting. They did npt seem to know; what it. all was about/. They smelt the snow for a while, and then became very frightened. I led ‘Deerfoot,’ a purebred little Guernsey, and when she made a break she decided to take me with her. I hung on to her head like a cowboy at a rodeo, but-it took a whije before, I. bad her steadied down, and, indeed, all the cows seemed frightened of their surroundings, They particularly distrusted the red. ioute flags, but after they were led up to them and; allowed to sniff at them, they/ seemed more reassured. They were heavily wrapped in blankets, for it was below; freezing -point, and even in the shelter they trembled like leaves, On the way across their eyes, which watered a lot, began, to cake with, ice,, and long icicles formed, and these had to .be broken off.

“The idea of taking the cows was to have the fresh milk, and they milked wonderfully well. They did not seem to mind the sea trip. Their cache would be about two and a-ljalf miles from the barrier face. After all that journey., and the frights they must have received, 'one of them was milked on arrival j. and gave nearly a bucketful of milk. “The journey, as you can well imagine, was quite adventurous. The four of us have the distinction of being the first, cowmen of the Antarctic.

“After delivering and sheltering the cows at the first cache, Gay, Sissons,, and myself continued our journey on foot to Little America. The weather got gradually .worse as we approached tho barrier, until on reaching it' we were in the teeth of a 45 miles per hour blizzard. Red flags every 50 yards marked the route. The snow blotted out the flags entirely and our method of progress was to string out singly, each keeping within sight of. the other until the next flag was picked, up. After several hours’ strenuous walking, w.e eventually arrived.”