I was relieved at 4.0 A.M. by Worsley, who carried on for another two hours. At 6.0 A.M. the seas had risen to such an extent that Sir Ernest decided to heave-to, and all hands were called to take in sail. Putting the ship straight before the wind we let go the square-sail with a run, all hands rushing forward to gather up the canvas and stow it securely. Dell, jumping to assist another man, got his foot caught in a coil of rope, which, running out at high speed, threw him violently off his feet, causing an injury from which he took months to recover. We let go the topsail sheets and started to clew up, the wind causing the sail to flap with loud reports and bending the yard like a bow. Worsley and Macklin clambered aloft to take it in and pass the gaskets which secure it to the yard. The gale increased in violence. I was agreeably surprised with the _Quest’s_ behaviour, for she lay-to much more comfortably than I had expected, and took comparatively little water over her sides. There was enough, however, to make things uncomfortable, for it filled the waist of the ship, flooded the cabins, and sweeping along the alleyways entered the galley and extinguished the fires. Green stuck valiantly to his post and managed at each meal-time to serve us out some good solid sandwiches and, what was of especial value under the circumstances, a good hot drink, which sent a warm glow through our arteries and put new life into us. We considerably reduced the amount of water coming on board by placing a series of oil bags over the bow, which subdued the seas in a manner scarcely credible except to those who watched its effect upon them, as with breaking tops they rushed angrily upon us, suddenly to lose all their sting and slip harmless under our keel. With regard to the use of oil bags, if they are to be used at all, it is necessary to let the oil run freely, though not necessarily wastefully. Small driblets are valueless and not worth the trouble of putting over the side. The next day there was still a strong sea running, but it was merely the aftermath of the gale, which lost its sting about midnight. In the morning the sun came out and brightened things up considerably. Later in the day we were able to set sail and proceed on our way. Our friendly sea-birds, which had disappeared during the worst of the storm, returned and followed in our wake. We had not long been under way when Sir Ernest approached, saying quietly: “Wild, you came to me with bad news the other day; I have some news for you.” “Good or bad?” I asked. “Bad,” he replied; “worse than yours; bad enough perhaps to stop the expedition.”