We guessed he wasn’t, and passed on. We learned from Mr. Jacobsen that he was a stowaway from St. Vincent, who was a perfect nuisance to them, and who was being sent away at the earliest opportunity. This being the first time we had been on an even keel since leaving Rio de Janeiro, we had dinner in comfort and spent a cheery evening, the Boss being full of jokes. At the finish he rose, saying, “To-morrow we’ll keep Christmas.” I went on deck with him, and we discussed a few details of work. He went to his cabin to turn in. I arranged for an “anchor watch” to be kept, and also turned in early for a good sound sleep. CHAPTER IV DEATH OF SIR ERNEST SHACKLETON On Thursday, January 5th, I was awakened about 3.0 A.M. to find both of the doctors in my cabin—Macklin was lighting my oil lamp. McIlroy said: “We want you to wake up thoroughly, for we have some bad news to give you—the worst possible.” I sat up, saying: “Go on with it, let me have it straight out!” He replied: “The Boss is dead!” It was a staggering blow. Roused thus in the middle of the night to receive this news, it was some minutes before I felt its full significance. I remember saying mechanically: “The Boss dead! _Dead_, do you mean? He can’t be dead!” [Illustration: THE RESTING PLACE OF A GREAT EXPLORER _Photo: Wilkins_] [Illustration: THE PICTURESQUE SETTING OF PRINCE OLAF STATION _Photo: Wilkins_] On asking for particulars, I learned from Macklin that he was taking the 2.0-4.0 A.M. anchor watch. He was patrolling the ship, when he was attracted by a whistle from the Boss’s cabin, and on going in, found him sitting up in his bunk. His own account, written almost immediately after, is as follows: Was called at 2.0 A.M. for my watch. A cold night but clear and beautiful, with every star showing. I was slowly walking up and down the deck, when I heard a whistle from the Boss’s cabin. I went in, and he said: “Hullo, Mack, boy, is that you? I thought it was.” He continued: “I can’t sleep to-night, can you get me a sleeping draught?” He explained that he was suffering from severe facial neuralgia, and had taken fifteen grains of aspirin. “That stuff is no good; will you get me something which will act?”