They took him ashore, intending to dispatch his body to the England he loved; and we others, his followers and devoted disciples, were left behind to mourn.
By the natural law of the sea the command passed to the next senior, Commander Frank Wild, one who was prepared to carry out to the last letter the programme of the man who had conceived the expedition. It could not have been entrusted to a worthier substitute. Commander Wild was engaged on his fifth Antarctic expedition; he knew intimately every phase of the work involved, and there is no question that had both hemispheres been fine-combed, a better man could not have been selected.
Cæsar died, another Cæsar reigned in his stead; but it took some time for our minds to adapt themselves to the altered order of things, and for many days life was hazy, fogged and unreal. For it needs the narrow environment of a small ship, I think, to enable one to understand what death can really mean. In a shore community, with many outside interests, the loss of even a great man is merely a matter for temporary regret; but aboard ship when one goes hence his loss is grievously felt: familiar echoes cease, the impact of the dead man’s personality seems to vanish entirely and leave the vessel without its soul.
It was not immediately possible to convey the sad tidings to the outer civilized world. South Georgia is not in telegraphic touch with England, or, indeed, any country, and our wireless was so limited in its scope that it was hopeless for us to expect to transmit the message of Shackleton’s death. Thus, lacking all knowledge of Lady Shackleton’s desire, Commander Wild decided to send the body of our leader to England; and ashore there in the little hospital the mortal remains were prepared for the final journey. Mr. Hussey was delegated to form the escort; he was one of the most competent members of the staff, and his loss to the expedition would be irreparable, but a good man deserves good companionship on his progress to the tomb, and Commander Wild considered Mr. Hussey best qualified for the sad duty. Right sorry we were to lose him; right sorry was he to go, for he was the life and soul of the party; always provided with a quip and a jest to ease off the foulest conditions, and his laughter made even the worst days seem shot through with sudden sunbursts.
There was a steamer named the Professor Gruvel lying in the harbour. As she was due to clear for Monte Video in about ten days’ time, her captain was prevailed upon to convey the coffin thus far, where it could be transhipped for home. It subsequently transpired, however, that Lady Shackleton preferred that our leader’s grave should be dug in such a position that it would command the Gateway to the South; but long ere he came back to the scene of one of his greatest exploits, we, his comrades, were faring southward ho! with our new leader imbued with desire to fulfil all Sir Ernest’s ambitions.
CHAPTER X
Frank Wild Takes Command
Commander Wild had a vast load of trouble upon his capable shoulders. The most serious, most dangerous part of the voyage was to be faced, and the troubles that had dogged us throughout promised to continue in latitudes where ports of refuge were unknown. However, since the spirit of the genuine adventurer was his, he showed a bold face to the hazards, and we who followed whither he led saw scant outward evidence of his perturbation. All he said was that the trip promised to be a somewhat risky one, but that it was up to us to keep the Boss’s memory green by means of uncomplaining devotion to duty, and a determination to see the matter through. He gave us the opportunity of withdrawing, if we so desired; but never a faint-heart asked for a passage home. It may be that national pride was involved, for it would naturally have meant a great humiliation to betray, before the Norwegian element there in South Georgia, a lack of desire to continue; or it may be, as I prefer to think, that all hands were so imbued with the idea of fulfilling Sir Ernest’s dreams that at any cost they were prepared to continue, whatever the days might bring.
The day of the Boss’s departure ashore was wet and depressing, and on the following day even the Quest appeared to be restless and unsettled, for she dragged her anchors, and it was necessary to work her to a more secure holding-ground. The general run of things down there in South Georgia is for constant heavy squalls to blow fiercely off the land, and to lie there at anchor with any sense of security you must have implicit faith in your ground-tackle and be constantly on the qui vive. The least carelessness is liable to result in your ship being driven ashore and hopelessly lost. We came to safer moorings, and, since our time was short and nothing was to be gained by protracted mourning, we set to work to ready the Quest for the coming hazards. Three Argentine Germans were employed to set up the rigging, overhaul all lanyards and seizings, and, driven assiduously by Jimmy Dell, our boatswain, they made excellent headway. For myself, I endeavoured to forget my natural grief in downright hard work of an unpoetical kind—attending to my below-decks duties for all I was worth. I found the panacea effective enough. But even so one missed the Boss’s quiet words of encouragement and his approval of duty done to his liking; it needed a firm grip on one’s resolution to prevent one from wondering what the ultimate issue of the venture might be.
There followed now a sequence of wet, depressing days—miserable days, quite in harmony with our feelings. Pack ice drifted into the harbour where we lay, and gradually solidified about the ship; the mists drooped heavily over the hills, narrowing our horizons, and throughout this time a thin, infinitely penetrating rain fell, which was not permitted to interfere with our deck duties. My immediate duty was a simple one: the rigging was being thoroughly served, and I passed the spunyarn ball whilst other men, more competent than I, did the actual work. If I thought that I was like the Hibernian who carried bricks up a ladder whilst another man expended himself in tiresome toil, that is my own affair.