Gladly would we have explored this coast but that was impossible, for the ice was getting thicker and thicker, and it was imperative that we should escape to clear water without delay.
I still, however, hoped that we might skirt the Balleny Islands and find Wilkes Land, but about midnight on March 9 I saw that we must go north, and the course was set in that direction.
As it was we were almost too late, and the situation looked black indeed when we were held up by the ice, and the ship was quite unable to move. Fortunately we found a lane through which progress could be made, and by the afternoon of the 10th we were in fairly open water.
Our troubles were ended, for we had a good voyage to New Zealand, and on March 22 we dropped anchor at the mouth of Lord's river on the south side of Stewart Island. I did not go to a port because I wished to get the news of the expedition's work through to London before we faced the energetic newspaper men.
That day in March was a wonderful one to all of us. For over a year we had seen nothing but rocks, ice, snow and sea. No green growth had gladdened our eyes, no musical notes of birds had come to our ears. No man who has not spent a period of his life in those "stark and sullen solitudes that sentinel the Pole" will understand fully what trees, and flowers, and running streams mean to the soul of a man. We landed on the stretch of beach that separated the sea from the luxuriant growth of the forest, and scampered about like children in the sheer joy of being alive.
Early next morning we hove up the anchor, and at 10 A.M. we entered Half Moon Bay. There I went ashore, and having despatched my cablegrams from the little office I went on board again and ordered the course to be set for Lyttelton, the port from which we had sailed on the first day of the previous year, and we arrived there on March 25 late in the afternoon.
The people of New Zealand would have welcomed us, I think, whatever had been the result of our efforts, for since the early days of the Discovery expedition their keen interest in Antarctic exploration has never faltered, and their attitude towards us was always that of warm personal friendship.
But the news of the measure of success we had achieved had been published in London and flashed back to the southern countries, and we were met out in the harbour and on the wharves by cheering crowds. Enthusiastic friends boarded the Nimrod almost as soon as she entered the heads, and when our gallant little vessel came alongside the quay the crowd on deck became so great that movement was almost impossible.
Then I was handed great bundles of letters and cablegrams. The loved one at home were well, the world was pleased with our work, and it seemed as though nothing but joy and happiness could ever enter life again.
