All Boy Scouts know of Sir Ernest Shackleton, a brother peace-scout of
the Empire--and a first-class one, too.
On one of his voyages of exploration to the South Pole he was very
nearly successful in getting to that point, he was within ninety-seven
miles of it, in fact, when his food supplies gave out, and he and
those with him were in great danger of starving, and had, most
unwillingly, to turn back to regain their ship.
They had left the ship when they had got her as far south as was
possible through the ice; they then went on foot over land and sea,
all hard frozen and covered with snow, and they took their food with
them, and stored depots, or what Scouts would call "caches," to use on
their return journey. For weeks they struggled along over difficult
ground.
One day in January, although they had cut down their rations and ate
as little as possible (so little indeed that they were getting weak),
they found that they were coming to the end of their food, and they
must either turn back or go on and die, in which case the record of
their work would have been lost. So they planted a flagstaff with the
Union Jack on it, and left a box containing a notice that they had
annexed the land for Great Britain and King Edward VII.
They took a long look with their field-glasses in the direction of the
South Pole to see if any mountains were to be seen, but there were
none. And then they started on their desperate tramp to the ship.
They made a number of interesting and useful discoveries. They came
upon mountains and glaciers of ice, and mineral rocks of coal and
limestone.
And they found tiny insects which are able to live in the ice, and
when they boiled them, they did not kill them!
They found that the penguins, the great wingless birds which sit up
and look just like people, enjoyed listening to a gramophone, which
they set going for their benefit.
But their journey back was a very anxious and trying experience for
them.
In order to guide them they had planted flags here and there along
their path, but storms came and blew them down, and it was, therefore,
most difficult to find their way from one food depot to another. They
did it largely by spooring their old tracks.
This is how Sir Ernest Shackleton describes their doings on one
particular day:
"We were thirty miles from our depot. Although we could see it in the
distance, it was practically unattainable, for soft snow covered
treacherous crevasses, and as we stumbled along in our search for food
we seemed to get no nearer to our longed-for goal. The situation was
desperate.
"Two of our party, utterly worn out and exhausted, fell in harness,
but with the greatest pluck again pushed on as soon as they had
temporarily recovered. It was with a feeling of devout thankfulness
that we crossed the last crevasse and secured some food. Beyond a
little tea we had had nothing for thirty-four hours, and previously to
that our last meal consisted merely of one pannikin of half-cooked
pony maize-not much foundation for work under such conditions, and
with an extremely low temperature. Under these conditions we marched
sixteen miles in twenty-two hours.
"On another occasion during that same journey we were all struck down
with dysentery, and this at a distance of ninety miles from our depot.
Though the weather was fine, we were all too weak to move, but here,
as on other occasions, Providence came to our rescue, and strong
southerly blizzards helped us along.
"From December 4th, 1908, to February 23rd, 1909, we lived in a state
of constant anxiety, intensified by more acute knowledge gained from
narrow escapes and close contact with death. Over and over again there
were times when no mortal leadership could have availed us.
"It was during these periods that we learnt that some Power beyond our
own guided our footsteps. If we acknowledged this--as we did--down
among the ice, it is only fitting that we should remember it now when
the same Power has brought us safely home through all these troubles
and dangers. No one who has seen and experienced what we have done
there can take credit to himself for our escape from what appeared to
be overwhelming difficulties."
Sir Ernest Shackleton also praises the conduct of his officers and men
as helping largely to their success. He says:
"We were all the best of comrades. Every man denied himself, and was
eager to do his level best."
True Scouts, all of them.
* * * * *