I did not even go up the beach to see the camp, which Wild assured me had been much improved.

A heavy sea was running and a change of wind might bring the ice back at any time.

I hurried the party aboard with all possible speed, taking also the records of the Expedition and essential portions of equipment.

Everybody was aboard the 'Yelcho' within an hour, and we steamed north at the little steamer's best speed.

The ice was open still, and nothing worse than an expanse of stormy ocean separated us from the South American coast.
During the run up to Punta Arenas I heard Wild's story, and blessed again the cheerfulness and resource that had served the party so well during four and a half months of privation.