had passed.

After I had eaten it he made me comfortable by laying me on Crean's
sleeping-bag, which made my own seem softer, for I was very, very sore
after being dragged a hundred miles on a jolting, jumping sledge. Then I
slept and awoke to find Lashly's kind face looking down at me. There were
very few wounded men in the Great War nursed as I was by him.

A couple of days passed, and every now and then Lashly would open up the
tent door, go out and search the horizon for some possible sign of
relief. The end had nearly come, and I was past caring; we had no food,
except a few paraffin saturated biscuits, and Lashly in his weakened
state without food could never have marched in. He took it all very
quietly--a noble, steel true man--but relief did come at the end of that
day when everything looked its blackest.

We heard the baying of the dogs, first once, then again. Lashly, who was
lying down by my side quietly talking, sprang to his feet, looked out,
and saw!

They galloped right up to the tent door, and the leader, a beautiful gray
dog named Krisravitsa, seemed to understand the situation, for he came
right into the tent and licked my hands and face. I put my poor weak
hands up and gripped his furry ears. Perhaps to hide my feelings I kissed
his old hairy, Siberian face with the kiss that was meant for Lashly. We
were both dreadfully affected at our rescue.

Atkinson and the Russian dog-boy, Dimitri, had come out hot-foot to save
us, and of all men in the Expedition none could have been better chosen
than "Little Aitch," our clever naval doctor. After resting his dogs and
feeding me with carefully prepared foodstuffs, he got me on one sledge
and Lashly on the other, the dogs were given their head, and in little
more than three hours we covered the thirty-five miles into Hut Point,
where I was glad to see Crean's face once more and to hear first hand
about his march. It had taken him eighteen hours' plodding through those
awful snows from our camp to Hut Point, where fortunately he met Atkinson
and Dimitri and told them of my condition.

After the Expedition was over the King gave Lashly and Crean the Albert
Medal for their bravery in helping me win through.

It is little enough tribute that I have dedicated this book to these two
gallant fellows.

CHAPTER XVI

THE POLE ATTAINED--SCOTT'S LAST MARCHES

The details of Scott's final march to the Pole, and the heartrending
account of his homeward