Then it suddenly dawned upon them that they were talking to the man who had been their close companion for a year and a half.

Within a few minutes the whalers had moved our bits of gear into their boat.

They towed off the 'James Caird' and hoisted her to the deck of their ship.

Then they started on the return voyage.

Just at dusk on Monday afternoon they entered Stromness Bay, where the men of the whaling-station mustered on the beach to receive the rescued party and to examine with professional interest the boat we had navigated across 800 miles of the stormy ocean they knew so well.
When I look back at those days I have no doubt that Providence guided us, not only across those snowfields, but across the storm-white sea that separated Elephant Island from our landing-place on South Georgia.
I know that during that long and racking march of thirty-six hours over the unnamed mountains and glaciers of South Georgia it seemed to me often that we were four, not three.