“On the morning of the 9th,” writes Markham, “a rainbow was seen, which, being an unusual sight, afforded much interest. On the same day, shortly after the march had been commenced, a moving object was suddenly seen amidst the hummocks to the southward. At first it was regarded as an optical illusion, for we could scarcely realize the fact that it could be anybody from the Alert. With what intense anxiety this object was regarded is beyond description. Gradually emerging from the hummocks, a hearty cheer put an end to the suspense that was almost agonizing, as a dog-sledge with three men was seen to be approaching. A cheer in return was attempted, but so full were our hearts that it resembled more a wail than a cheer. It is impossible to describe our feelings as May and Moss came up, and we received from them a warm and hearty welcome. We felt that we were saved, and a feeling of thankfulness and gratitude was uppermost in our minds, as we shook the hands of those who had hurried out to our relief the moment that Parr had conveyed to them intelligence of our distress. Those who a few short moments before were in the lowest depths of despondency appeared now in the most exuberant spirits. Pain was disregarded and hardships were forgotten as numerous and varied questions were asked and answered.
“We heard with delight that they were only the vanguard of a larger party, headed by Captain Nares himself, that was coming out to our relief, and which we should probably meet on the following day. A halt was immediately ordered, cooking utensils lighted up, ice made into water, and we were soon all enjoying a good pannikin full of lime-juice, with the prospect of mutton for supper!”
On the 14th of June, after seventy-two days of travel and hardship, Commander Markham’s party reached the Alert. Out of fifteen men, one had gone to his long home, eleven others were carried alongside the ship on sledges, the remaining three barely able to hobble aboard.
“A more thorough break-up of a healthy and strong body of men it would be difficult to conceive,” comments Markham. “Not only had the men engaged in the extended party under my command been attacked with scurvy, but also those who had been absent from the ship only for short periods, and some who may be said never to have left the ship at all, or if they did, only for two or three days! The seeds must have been sown during the time, nearly five months, that the sun was absent, and we were in darkness.”
The serious condition of the crew of the Alert determined Captain Nares to publicly announce on the 16th of June that immediately upon the return of the other sledge parties he would rejoin the Discovery, transfer all the invalids, and send the ship home. The Alert would remain a second winter at Port Foulke, and in the spring sledge parties would endeavour to explore Hayes Sound and the adjacent lands, after which the Alert would return to England. This cheerful news did much to restore the invalids to convalescence, and immediately a change for the better was noticed among all hands.
Considerable anxiety was felt, however, for Lieutenant Aldrich’s party. Although his route was along the coast-line, and it was hoped that a supply of hares, geese, and perhaps musk-oxen might occasionally be secured, every one knew that his supply of provisions was all but exhausted, and for the purpose of his relief a party of three men under Lieutenant May left the ship June 18.
The intervening time until Sunday, June 25, was one of great concern to all on board; on that day the wanderers were seen struggling through the hummocks some six or seven miles off. A relief party immediately left the ship and brought the men on board. All but two were suffering from scurvy. Only Lieutenant Aldrich and two men were able to walk alongside the ship, and one of these was in a critical condition for many weeks after. They had been absent from the ship eighty-four days, having explored two hundred twenty miles of new coast. Passing Cape Columbia, 83° 07´ N., Lieutenant Aldrich reached his farthest point on the 18th of May, 1876, in 82° 16´ N., 86° W., at Cape Alfred Ernst.
It now became the arduous work of the few members of the ship’s company who were in good health to minister to the numerous invalids, prepare the ship for leaving winter quarters as soon as the ice would permit, and make hunting trips in search of fresh meat, so essential to the cure of scurvy patients.
On the 31st of July, a fresh southwesterly wind had blown the pack off the shore, a clear channel of open water to the southward was hailed with delight, the throbbing of the engines told the men that liberation was at hand, and the Alert bade farewell to her northern home. Progress was slow, and threatened “nips” in the short journey to the Discovery tried the patience of the crew, but on August 5, while yet twenty miles distant from the sister ship, Rawson and two of the men of the Discovery came on board.