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Shackleton, Ernest Henry, Sir, 1874-1922

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

Those who could not get through tore
down the canvas walls in their hurry and excitement. The hoosh-pot with
our precious limpets and seaweed was kicked over in the rush. There,
just rounding the island which had previously hidden her from our
sight, we saw a little ship flying the Chilian flag.
"We tried to cheer, but excitement had gripped our vocal chords.
Macklin had made a rush for the flagstaff, previously placed in the
most conspicuous position on the ice-slope. The running-gear would not
work, and the flag was frozen into a solid, compact mass so he tied his
jersey to the top of the pole for a signal.
"Wild put a pick through our last remaining tin of petrol, and soaking
coats, mitts, and socks with it, carried them to the top of Penguin
Hill at the end of our spit, and soon, they were ablaze.
"Meanwhile most of us had gathered on the foreshore watching with
anxious eyes for any signs that the ship had seen us, or for any
answering signals. As we stood and gazed she seemed to turn away as if
she had not seen us. Again and again we cheered, though our feeble
cries could certainly not have carried so far. Suddenly she stopped, a
boat was lowered, and we could recognize Sir Ernest's figure as he
climbed down the ladder. Simultaneously we burst into a cheer, and
then one said to the other, 'Thank God, the Boss is safe.


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