my father told me about douglas mawson in my childhood. in the winter of the 1912, a small squad of polar explorers went to the research expedition to the far coast of antarctica. there were only 3 persons in the group: mawson, ninnis and mertz. on the way back, when there were only 500 km remained before the base, ninnis with the sledge, food and the tent fell into a deep crevice and died. mawson and mertz had to continue their trip together practically not having supplies of food. to survive, the explorers ate meat of sick dogs which traveled with them. that food became deathful for mertz, and after a while he died. having buried his friend, mawson continued his way alone. by that time, he suffered from abdominal pain, got serious frostbitten hands, legs and face, but despite everything, went ahead. when mawson was already close to reach the base, he fell into a crevasse in the ice. by some miracle, the geologist managed to find way out to the surface. after a few days, being ill and exhausted, he still could return to his camp.
Many bars
Many pieces
Much corn
Many cups
Much jam
Much juice
Much bread
Much slime
Many tins
Much water