CHAPTER XLIV
THE RETURN TO NEW ZEALAND
The Nimrod, with Professor David, Mawson and Mackay aboard, got back to winter quarters on February 11 and landed Mawson. No news had been heard of the Southern Party, and the depot party, commanded by Joyce, was still out. On February 20 it was found that the depot party had reached Hut Point, and had not seen Marshall, Adams, Wild or myself. My instructions had provided that if we had not returned from our journey toward the South Pole by February 25, a party was to be landed at Hut Point with a team of dogs, and on March 1 a search-party was to go south. Murray, who was in command of the expedition during my absence, was in no way responsible for the failure of that party to be landed, and obeyed faithfully my full instructions.
All arrangements being completed, most of the members of the expedition went ashore at Cape Royds to get their property packed in readiness for departure. The ship left Cape Royds on the 21st, and was lying under Glacier Tongue when I arrived at Hut Point with Wild on February 28, and after I had been landed with the relief party in order that Adams and Marshall might be brought in, the ship went to Cape Royds so that the remaining members of the shore-party and some specimens and stores might be taken on board.
The Nimrod anchored a short distance from the shore, and two boats were launched. As everything had to be lowered by ropes over the cliff into the boats, the work of embarkation took some time, but by 6 A.M. on March 2 only the men and dogs remained to be taken on board.
A stiff breeze was blowing, and by the time the dogs had one by one been lowered into the boats, the wind had freshened to blizzard force, and the sea had begun to run dangerously. The waves had deeply undercut the ice-cliff, leaving a projecting shelf.
One boat, in charge of Davis, succeeded in reaching the ship, but a second boat, heavily laden with men and dogs, was less fortunate, and before it had gone many yards from the shore an oar broke.
The Nimrod, owing to the severity of the storm was forced to slip her moorings and steam from the bay, and an attempt to float a buoy to the boat was not successful.
Consequently Harbord and his men were in great danger, for they could not get out of the bay owing to the force of the sea, and the projecting shelf of ice threatened disaster if they approached the shore. Flying spray had encased the men in ice, and their hands were numb and frozen.
At the end of an hour they managed to make fast to a line stretched from an anchor a few yards from the cliff, the men who had remained on shore pulling this line taut.
Their position was still dangerous, but eventually the men and dogs were all safely hauled up the slippery ice-face before the boat sank. Hot drinks were soon ready for them in the hut, and although the temperature was low and nearly all the bedding had been sent on board, they were thankful enough to have escaped with their lives.