At the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft

It is only with vast hesitancy and repugnance that I let my mind go back to Lake's camp and what we really found there -- and to that other thing beyond the awful mountain wall.

I have told of the wind-ravaged terrain, the damaged shelters, the disarranged machinery, the varied uneasiness of our dogs, the missing sledges and other items, the deaths of men and dogs, the absence of Gedney, and the six insanely buried biological specimens, strangely sound in texture for all their structural injuries, from a world forty million years dead. I do not recall whether I mentioned that upon checking up the canine bodies we found one dog missing. We did not think much about that till later -- indeed, only Danforth and I have thought of it at all.