Page:The frozen North; an account of Arctic exploration for use in schools (IA frozennorthaccou00hort).pdf/108

 try to raise an oar with three rags on it, as a signal of distress, but the furious wind tore it down.

The sharp eyes of the men in the steam cutter saw this man. They ran the boat inshore and were soon questioning him about his companions. He told them that they were over the hill, and that seven of them still lived, among them Lieutenant Greely. The ice pilot jumped out of the boat and ran to the camp. He was the first of the party to speak to Lieutenant Greely, as he had been the last to see him when the Proteus steamed away from Discovery harbor three years before. Greely directed him to cut the back out of the tent with his pocket knife. When this was done, Greely on his hands and knees in his sleeping bag peered out. His hair and beard were long and matted, his face was covered with soot and dirt, and his eyes glittered with excitement. He heard with joy that help had arrived and that he and his companions were saved. In the midst of a terrific wind storm, the surviving men of Greely's party were transferred to the Thetis and made comfortable.

Then came the dreadful work of collecting the bodies of the dead and carrying them aboard the ships, after which the Thetis and the Bear set sail from Camp Clay and headed for home. The ship reached Portsmouth, New Hampshire, August 1, 1884, where Greely and his command were transferred to the navy yard, while the bodies of the dead were taken to Governor's island in New York harbor.

Thus ended one of the most successful and rapid relief voyages ever made. Had Commodore Schley been more cautious, not a man of Greely's party would have been found alive. But Schley knew that this was a time for both courage and daring, and neither he nor any of his command lacked in these qualities.