I had found a piece
which I thought would do, and had gone back to wave my flag, which I
did every two minutes, when I suddenly thought I saw again the glitter
of an oar. It did not seem possible, however, for it must be
remembered it was not water which lay between me and the land, but
slob ice, which a mile or two inside me was very heavy. Even if people
had seen me, I did not think they could get through, though I knew
that the whole shore would then be trying. Moreover, there was no
smoke rising on the land to give me hope that I had been seen. There
had been no gun-flashes in the night, and I felt sure that, had any
one seen me, there would have been a bonfire on every hill to
encourage me to keep going.
So I gave it up, and went on with my work. But the next time I went
back to my flag, the glitter seemed very distinct, and though it kept
disappearing as it rose and fell on the surface, I kept my eyes
strained upon it, for my dark spectacles had been lost, and I was
partly snowblind.
I waved my flag as high as I could raise it, broadside on. At last,
beside the glint of the white oar, I made out the black streak of the
hull. I knew that, if the pan held on for another hour, I should be
all right.
With that strange perversity of the human intellect, the first thing I
thought of was what trophies I could carry with my luggage from the
pan, and I pictured the dog-bone flagstaff adorning my study.
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