At 7.45 P.M. we reached the top of Ski Slope, and from there both the hut and the bay could be seen. But no sign of the ship could we find, and no trace of life could be seen at the hut.
With our minds full of gloomy possibilities, we hurried on to the hut, and discovered that every one had gone away.
A letter had been left for us stating that all the parties had been picked up except ours, and that the ship would be sheltering under Glacier Tongue until February 26. As it was already February 28 there is no need to say how distressed we were at this new development of the situation. For if the ship was gone, both the plight of the two men out on the Barrier and of ourselves was a most serious one.
That was a bad night for Wild and myself, for although we were able to have a good meal, we had left our sleeping-bags behind, and had to wrap pieces of roofing-felt round us in our attempts to keep warm. Our efforts were neither successful in that direction nor in that of trying to signal for help. For we could not get the magnetic hut to light, and we were so tired and cold that when we endeavoured to tie up the Union Jack on the hill the knots were too much for us.
In the morning, however, we managed to make both of these signals, and all our fears vanished with one glad swoop when we saw the ship in the distance.
At 11 A.M. on March 1 we were once more on board the Nimrod, and I will not attempt to describe the load which was suddenly lifted from my shoulders, or the reception we received from our friends who had given us up for lost, and who on that same day were going to send out a search-party in the hope of finding some traces of us.
The ship brought us nothing but good news from the outside world, and I found that every member of the Expedition was well, and that the work laid down had been accomplished.
The immediate thing, however, to do was not to delay over these splendid reports, but to bring in Adams and Marshall; and in the afternoon I started off again from the Barrier edge with Mackay, Mawson and McGillan, leaving Wild on the Nimrod.
We found that Marshall's health had been improved by the rest, but the march renewed the attack, and it was with feelings of great relief that we at length got him back to winter quarters and put him to bed.
By 1 A.M. on March 4 we were all once more safe on board the Nimrod; but Adams, after surviving all the dangers of the interior of the Antarctic continent, was nearly lost within sight of safety. Owing to the fact that he was wearing new finnesko he slipped at the ice edge, and only just managed to save himself from going over, and to hang on until he was rescued by a party from the ship. He had begun with a painful accident and nearly finished with a fatal one.