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Shackleton, Ernest Henry, Sir, 1874-1922

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

The 'Yelcho' had arrived at the right
moment. Two days earlier she could not have reached the island, and a
few hours later the pack may have been impenetrable again. Wild had
reckoned that help would come in August, and every morning he had
packed his kit, in cheerful anticipation that proved infectious, as I
have no doubt it was meant to be. One of the party to whom I had said
"Well, you all were packed up ready," replied, "You see, boss, Wild
never gave up hope, and whenever the sea was at all clear of ice he
rolled up his sleeping-bag and said to all hands, 'Roll up your
sleeping-bags, boys; the boss may come to-day.'" And so it came to
pass that we suddenly came out of the fog, and, from a black outlook,
in an hour all were in safety homeward bound. The food was eked out
with seal and penguin meat, limpets, and seaweed. Seals had been
scarce, but the supply of penguins had held out fairly well during the
first three months. The men were down to the last Bovril ration, the
only form of hot drink they had, and had scarcely four days' food in
hand at the time of the rescue. The camp was in constant danger of
being buried by the snow, which drifted heavily from the heights
behind, and the men moved the accumulations with what implements they
could provide. There was danger that the camp would become completely
invisible from the sea, so that a rescue party might look for it in
vain.


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