Next morning they prepared to set out on their return to the ship.  But this was no easy task.  The exhausted men had to be wrapped up carefully in their blankets, which were sewed closely round their limbs, then packed in their sleeping-bags and covered completely up, only a small hole being left opposite their mouths to breathe through, and after that they were lashed side by side on the small sledge.  The larger sledge, with the muskets, ammunition, and spare blankets, had to be abandoned.  Then the rescue party put their shoulders to the tracking-belts, and away they went briskly over the floes.

But the drag was a fearfully heavy one for men who, besides having walked so long and so far on the previous day, were, most of them, much weakened by illness, and very unfit for such laborious work.  The floes, too, were so rugged that they had frequently to lift the heavy sledge and its living load over deep rents and chasms which, in circumstances less desperate, they would have scarcely ventured to do.  Work as they would, however, they could not make more than a mile an hour, and night overtook them ere they reached the level floes.  But it was of the utmost importance that they should continue to advance, so they pushed forward until a breeze sprang up that pierced them through and through.

Fortunately there was a bright moon in the sky, which enabled them to pick their way among the hummocks.  Suddenly, without warning, the whole party felt an alarming failure of their energies.  Captain Guy, who was aware of the imminent danger of giving way to this feeling, cheered the men to greater exertion by word and voice, but failed to rouse them.  They seemed like men walking in their sleep.

“Come, Saunders, cheer up, man!” cried the captain, shaking the mate by the arm; but Saunders stood still, swaying to and fro like a drunken man.  Mizzle begged to be allowed to sleep, if it were only for two minutes, and poor Davie Summers deliberately threw himself down on the snow, from which, had he been left, he would never more have risen.

The case was now desperate.  In vain the captain shook and buffeted the men.  They protested that they did not feel cold—­“they were quite warm, and only wanted a little sleep.”  He saw that it was useless to contend with them, so there was nothing left for it but to pitch the tent.

This was done as quickly as possible, though with much difficulty, and the men were unlashed from the sledge and placed within the tent.  The others then crowded in, and falling down beside each other were asleep in an instant.  The excessive crowding of the little tent was an advantage at this time, as it tended to increase their animal heat.  Captain Guy allowed them to sleep only two hours, and then roused them in order to continue the journey; but short though the period of rest was, it proved sufficient to enable the men to pursue their journey with some degree of spirit.  Still it was evident that their energies had been overtaxed; for when they neared the ship next day, Tom Singleton, who had been on the look-out, and advanced to meet them, found that they were almost in a state of stupor, and talked incoherently—­sometimes giving utterance to sentiments of the most absurd nature with expressions of the utmost gravity.