“No,” replied the old man, “they’ll keep a mite out o’ the way and mebbe some on ’em’ll take to water fer a spell; but they’ll all haul out again an’ when we git ready ter kill ’em they’ll all be on hand.”
“It seems an awful shame to kill the poor, stupid things,” said Jim. “It’s almost like murder.”
“Wall, ’tain’t sport I’ll admit,” agreed Pem, “but jes’ the same it’s a heap better to kill ’em an’ have their ’ile doin’ some good to civ’lized folks ’stead o’ keepin’ these critters warm down in this ’ere God-forsaken place. ’Sides, ’tain’t no worse’n killin’ whales.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” agreed Jim. “Only they appear so harmless and helpless, it seems a pity.”
“Reckon ye’re right there, son,” conceded old Pem, “but jes’ the same we don’t hurt ’em. Reckon they don’t suffer a mite. ’Tain’t half as cruel as stickin’ pigs or shootin’ pa’tridges.”
The boys marveled at the vast number of goods which the boats had brought ashore, and already, the carpenter and his assistants were busy putting up the shacks of lumber and canvas while the cooper was setting up casks.
When they reached the bark, dinner was ready and the boys sat down to their first meal of sea elephants’ tongues, flippers and liver, which they declared delicious; but they could not say as much for the penguins’ eggs which were strong and rather fishy in flavor.
“I suppose I could eat them and not mind,” said Tom, “but I’d have to be pretty hungry to like them.”
“Good deal like the old fellow that had to eat a crow,” remarked Mr. Kemp. “Some one asked him how he liked it and he says, ‘Well, I kin eat a crow but I’ll be hanged if I hanker arter ’em.’”
In a wonderfully short time, the shelters were erected, the stores, provisions, supplies and casks were ashore and stowed, and everything was in readiness for the departure of the bark.