I was glad to think that my lot was to be cast amongst such tried and proven men as Sir Ernest Shackleton and Mr. Frank Wild. Every boy has his private heroes. Shackleton was one of mine. Moreover, I, a landsman, was to learn the craft of the sea, and under the most fascinating circumstances imaginable. I thought of Drake, Hawkins and all those hardy adventurers of the past. I was one of them!
My first meeting with Sir Ernest Shackleton did nothing to lessen my enthusiasm, for he satisfied my imagination most completely. Here was a man to be followed anywhere—everywhere; a man whom it would be a great thing to serve. A tall, broad man, with a strong, determined mouth, a man whose smile gave confidence, whose voice seemed always to be laughing at danger. A full-sized man, judged by any standard, though his great shoulders carried a just perceptible bend, as token of the heavy burden laid upon him by his gallant struggles and endeavours of former years.
Naturally enough, when face to face with him this first time, I had little to say. But he possessed the ability to size one up almost at a glance.
“Why do you want to go?” he asked crisply.
“I want to _do_ something,” I said. It was a period when every right-thinking boy felt he must do something to be worthy of the sacrifices of Britain’s dead in the recently ended war. I wanted to say all this, yet words failed to come; but Shackleton read right enough and smiled. I was chosen, and even to this day I cannot understand why. My lucky star had climbed into the zenith, I suppose.
There is really no need for me to record that I counted myself the luckiest fellow on earth, nor to declare how strenuously I vowed myself to loyal and helpful performance of all such duties as should come my way. I wanted to be worthy of my companions. Here were men who had flocked to a well-loved leader’s standard from all the ends of the earth; and I was chosen to stand beside them!
Once the decision was made, the days were full of anticipation. They seemed tedious and endless, because, being committed, I wanted to tread the _Quest’s_ planking and feel that it was all really true. There were so many things that might happen, so many chances of misadventure. However, fortune stood my friend; the appointed hour arrived. Not that those final farewells to loving friends were pleasant, but high resolve made light of them. Others had dared the long out trail that’s everlastingly new; and homesickness is no fatal disease.