“Oh, can’t we go ashore?” asked Edith Gale, eagerly.
Poor girl, it was the first real land she had seen for more than a year, and even this cheerless coast seemed inviting.
Captain Biffer nodded grimly.
“We’ll have plenty of time to do that, ma’am,” he said, “before we get out of here, I’m thinking.”
“Oh, Nicholas, will you take me right away? I do so want to set foot on solid ground again.”
“We will go as soon as the Captain will let us,” I said, “and give us somebody to take us over.”
The sea continued to run down, and during the forenoon the Billowcrest listed, though far less than if she had been a deeper vessel. The weather cleared just before luncheon, and soon afterwards Chauncey and Edith Gale, with Officer Larkins and myself, and a small crew, made ready to set out in the launch for investigation. At the last moment, we heard somebody come puffing up the companion-way, and Zar, fully arrayed for the trip, stood before us.
“Look heah, I wan’ you take me in dat boat! I jes’ wan’ to set dis old foot on solidificated groun’ once more befo’ I die. I mighty tiahd dis ole ship dat toss, an’ tip, an’ spread-eagle, and doubleshuffle, an’ keep hit up foh six weeks at a stretch, an’ now tip ovah like a side-hill, so a’ old, fat ’ooman like me cain’t fin’ her balance, nohow. I wan’ go long, I tell you.”
So Zar accompanied us, and we landed presently at a shelving beach, where we were greeted by some noisy birds, and a few small hair-seals, who slipped into the water as we approached. Leaving the crew we made our way between barren hills to the country beyond.
The sun had come out, now, and being midsummer it seemed warm and genial, especially to those who had seen no other land for so long.