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!
After halting for the night Moss made a thorough medical inspection of the whole party. His report was by no means cheering: all were more or less affected, and some were in a very precarious condition. The presence, however, of a medical officer amongst us restored confidence, and acted as a powerful antiscorbutic!
On the following day we met the larger party coming out to our assistance, and with their help arrived alongside the “Alert” on the 14th of June, seventy-two days after our departure from the ship.
What a contrast did that departure afford to our return!
Then, on that bright but cold April morning, all were in the highest spirits, cheerful and enthusiastic, looking forward with confidence to a comparatively successful issue to their undertaking—a fine, strong, and resolute band.
Alas! how different was the return! Out of that party of fifteen men, one had gone to his long home, eleven others were carried alongside the ship on sledges dragged by a party despatched to their relief, and only the remaining three were capable of walking.[2] Even they were scarcely able to move one leg before the other, and were, on their return, placed with the others under the doctor’s hands. It was, indeed, a sad and terrible calamity with which we had been afflicted, totally unexpected and unparalleled in the annals of Arctic sledging experiences. On our arrival alongside the ship, we were, of course, most warmly welcomed by every soul on board; before entering Captain Nares called for three cheers for our party, and then offered up thanks to Almighty God for having preserved us through many dangers and privations, and for guiding us back to our ship without further loss of life.
[1] John Radmore, chief carpenter’s mate, and William Maskell, able seaman.