﻿410 
  

  

  THE 
  NATIONAL 
  GEOGRAPHIC 
  MAGAZINE 
  

  

  THE 
  QUEST, 
  SIR 
  ERNEST 
  SHACKLETON 
  IN 
  COMMAND, 
  PASSING 
  UNDER 
  THE 
  TOWER 
  

   BRIDGE 
  OE 
  THE 
  THAMES 
  : 
  EONDON 
  

  

  The 
  noted 
  Antarctic 
  explorer 
  sailed 
  from 
  London 
  in 
  September, 
  1921, 
  on 
  an 
  expedition 
  to 
  the 
  

   South 
  Polar 
  regions 
  which 
  was 
  to 
  have 
  extended 
  over 
  a 
  period 
  of 
  several 
  years. 
  

  

  We 
  came 
  to 
  a 
  wharf, 
  where 
  the 
  man 
  in 
  

   charge 
  stuck 
  to 
  his 
  station. 
  I 
  asked 
  him 
  if 
  

   Mr. 
  Sorlle 
  (the 
  manager) 
  was 
  in 
  the 
  house. 
  

  

  "Yes," 
  he 
  said, 
  as 
  he 
  stared 
  at 
  us. 
  

  

  "We 
  would 
  like 
  to 
  see 
  him," 
  said 
  I. 
  

  

  "Who 
  are 
  you?" 
  he 
  asked. 
  

  

  "We 
  have 
  lost 
  our 
  ship 
  and 
  come 
  over 
  the 
  

   island," 
  I 
  replied. 
  

  

  "You 
  have 
  come 
  over 
  the 
  island?" 
  he 
  said 
  

   in 
  a 
  tone 
  of 
  entire 
  unbelief. 
  

  

  The 
  man 
  went 
  toward 
  the 
  manager's 
  house 
  

   and 
  we 
  followed 
  him. 
  I 
  learned 
  afterwards 
  

   that 
  he 
  said 
  to 
  Mr. 
  Sorlle: 
  "There 
  are 
  three 
  

   funny-looking 
  men 
  outside, 
  who 
  say 
  that 
  they 
  

   have 
  come 
  over 
  the 
  island 
  and 
  they 
  know 
  you. 
  

   I 
  have 
  left 
  them 
  outside." 
  A 
  very 
  necessary 
  

   precaution 
  from 
  his 
  point 
  of 
  view. 
  

  

  Mr. 
  Sorlle 
  came 
  to 
  the 
  door 
  and 
  said, 
  

   "Well?'' 
  

  

  "Don't 
  you 
  know 
  me?" 
  I 
  said. 
  

  

  "I 
  know 
  your 
  voice," 
  he 
  replied 
  doubtfully. 
  

   "You're 
  the 
  mate 
  of 
  the 
  Daisy." 
  

  

  "My 
  name 
  is 
  Shackleton," 
  1 
  said. 
  

  

  This 
  episode 
  proved 
  of 
  particular 
  inter- 
  

   est 
  to 
  me 
  when 
  I 
  first 
  read 
  in 
  'South" 
  

  

  the 
  glorious 
  tale 
  of 
  the 
  rescue 
  by 
  Shackle- 
  

   ton 
  of 
  the 
  Elephant 
  Island 
  party, 
  for 
  the 
  

   Daisy, 
  now 
  at 
  the 
  bottom 
  of 
  the 
  Atlantic, 
  

   was 
  my 
  brig. 
  

  

  Following 
  hard 
  upon 
  word 
  of 
  the 
  ex- 
  

   plorer's 
  death, 
  in 
  January, 
  came 
  the 
  an- 
  

   nouncement 
  that 
  Lady 
  Shackleton 
  had 
  

   decided 
  to 
  have 
  her 
  husband's 
  remains 
  

   sent 
  back 
  from 
  Montevideo 
  to 
  South 
  

   Georgia 
  for 
  interment. 
  What 
  could 
  be 
  

   more 
  appropriate 
  than 
  that 
  Shackleton 
  

   should 
  lie 
  forever 
  at 
  the 
  Gateway 
  of 
  the 
  

   Antarctic 
  — 
  in 
  the 
  green 
  and 
  mossy 
  hill- 
  

   side 
  between 
  Grytviken 
  and 
  the 
  talus 
  of 
  

   the 
  granite 
  coast 
  range, 
  within 
  sight 
  of 
  

   glacier-lined 
  fjords 
  and 
  the 
  icy 
  crest 
  of 
  

   the 
  Allardyce 
  Alps? 
  

  

  Till'; 
  FIRST 
  SOUTH 
  POLAR 
  LAND 
  KNOWN 
  

  

  TO 
  MAN 
  

  

  In 
  view 
  of 
  the 
  connection, 
  which 
  will 
  

   henceforth 
  be 
  perpetual, 
  between 
  South 
  

  

  