Elated at the good news, the men fell to with a will and by the time the bark shortened sail and slowly worked into the anchorage, everything was in readiness to be sent aboard. The boys thought they had never seen anything quite so beautiful as the old bark and a wave of homesickness swept over them as the anchor plunged into the sea and the Hector swung to her moorings off the beach. But even before the yards had been swung or the cable had roared out, Cap’n Pem had manned his boat and the boys were speeding towards the bark.
Welcome, indeed, to the boys were the kindly, sunbrowned features of Captain Edwards, the scarred face of Mr. Kemp, the stolid, expressionless face of Swanson, the freckled countenance of the boy and even the rough, unshaven, but well-known members of the crew. It was almost like being home again to be once more upon the decks of the bark and the boys could scarcely believe that they had been away from her for more than two months.
“How are you getting on, boys?” cried the captain as he shook their hands heartily. “Got enough oil to fill up, I suppose.”
Then, turning to Cap’n Pem: “Everything ready to come aboard, Pem? How many casks you got? Hope you’ve had good luck. Crew we put ashore on Deception had tough luck. Elephants scarce and whole catch didn’t come to two hundred bar’ls.”
But the news that Cap’n Pem brought was far from encouraging and the face of the skipper became very grave as he listened to the mate’s story of the raid and the loss by storm.
“I expect that’s the same ship that’s been over to Deception,” he said. “The men reported vast quantities of bones from last season. Very likely they intended killing here, and finding the oil and so few men decided to raid it and save the trouble of killing and boiling for themselves. It’s an old trick of some of the island Portugees, and with oil so high they could well afford to take risks. Glad you got a couple of ’em. Maybe they’ll tell enough so the gang can be broken up. It’s too bad, though, the whole catch won’t pay expenses unless we have good luck and take whales on the voyage. Well, no use crying over spilt milk. I’m thankful no men are lost. So you found a castaway, eh? If everything’s ready, lower the boats and get everything off. I’m anxious to get clear as soon as possible. Don’t like the looks of the glass. I’m afraid we’re in for a rip-snorter of a blow.”
Rapidly the goods on shore were loaded into the boats and brought off and within a few hours of the time when the Hector had arrived, the last boat load was on board, the boats were at davits, and with the joyous feeling of being homeward bound the crew bent to the handspikes and roared the ever-welcome chorus of:
We’re homeward bound, may the winds blow fair.
Good-bye, fare ye well,
Good-bye, fare ye well!
Wafting us true to friends waiting there,
Hurrah, my bullies, we’re homeward bound!
Then, as the bark veered to the wind and the great sails filled and the land slipped away astern, the boys looked for the last time upon the desolate Antarctic island with its towering mountains, its wheeling albatrosses, its giant seals and its forbidding shores.
With every stitch of canvas set, the Hector heeled far over to the freshening breeze and plunged forward like a steamer through the seas, with the foaming bow-wave rising to the catheads and acres of yeasty froth streaming astern.