He had made a valiant effort, but the attempt had
failed.
Grenfell resumed firing his gun, still hoping that some one might hear
it and come to their rescue. Time passed and Taylor drifted abreast of
Grenfell and finally drifted past him. Then, in the far distance,
Grenfell glimpsed the flash of an oar. The flash was repeated with
rhythmic regularity. The outlines of a boat came into view. The men
shouted the good news to each other. Help was coming!
The signals had been heard, and in due time, and with much
thankfulness, Dr. Grenfell and William Taylor were safely in the boat
and on their way to St. Anthony.
Not long after his return to St. Anthony, the ice drifted eastward and
an open strip of sea appeared leading northward toward the Straits of
Belle Isle. The ice was now a full mile off shore, it was the
beginning of June, and Dr. Grenfell, expecting that at this late
season the Straits would be open for navigation, had the _Strathcona_
made ready for sea at once, and with high hopes, stowed the anchor and
steamed northward. It was his plan to have the vessel carry him
westward through the Straits and land him at some port on the west
coast of Newfoundland where he could take passage on the regular mail
boat, which he had been advised had begun its summer service.
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