They galloped right up to the tent door, and the leader, a beautiful gray
dog named Krisravitsa, seemed to understand the situation, for he came
right into the tent and licked my hands and face. I put my poor weak
hands up and gripped his furry ears. Perhaps to hide my feelings I kissed
his old hairy, Siberian face with the kiss that was meant for Lashly. We
were both dreadfully affected at our rescue.

Atkinson and the Russian dog-boy, Dimitri, had come out hot-foot to save
us, and of all men in the Expedition none could have been better chosen
than "Little Aitch," our clever naval doctor. After resting his dogs and
feeding me with carefully prepared foodstuffs, he got me on one sledge
and Lashly on the other, the dogs were given their head, and in little
more than three hours we covered the thirty-five miles into Hut Point,
where I was glad to see Crean's face once more and to hear first hand
about his march. It had taken him eighteen hours' plodding through those
awful snows from our camp to Hut Point, where fortunately he met Atkinson
and Dimitri and told them of my condition.

After the Expedition was over the King gave Lashly and Crean the Albert
Medal for their bravery in helping me win through.

It is little enough tribute that I have dedicated this book to these two
gallant fellows.




CHAPTER XVI