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Shackleton, Ernest Henry, Sir, 1874-1922

"South: the story of Shackleton's 1914-1917 expedition"

The
launching of the boats under such conditions would be difficult. Time
after time, so often that a track was formed, Worsley, Wild, and I,
climbed to the highest point of the berg and stared out to the horizon
in search of a break in the pack. After long hours had dragged past,
far away on the lift of the swell there appeared a dark break in the
tossing field of ice. Aeons seemed to pass, so slowly it approached.
I noticed enviously the calm peaceful attitudes of two seals which
lolled lazily on a rocking floe. They were at home and had no reason
for worry or cause for fear. If they thought at all, I suppose they
counted it an ideal day for a joyous journey on the tumbling ice. To
us it was a day that seemed likely to lead to no more days. I do not
think I had ever before felt the anxiety that belongs leadership quite
so keenly. When I looked down at the camp to rest my eyes from the
strain of watching the wide white expanse broken by that one black
ribbon of open water, I could see that my companions were waiting with
more than ordinary interest to learn what I thought about it all.
After one particularly heavy collision somebody shouted sharply, "She
has cracked in the middle." I jumped off the look-out station and ran
to the place the men were examining. There was a crack, but
investigation showed it to be a mere surface break in the snow with no
indication of a split in the berg itself.


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