This done, we called Guard, and embarked; not forgetting to take our dipper of salt, the walrus-tusks, and Wade's broken bayonet.
"Give 'way!" was the order.
Weymouth and Donovan dipped the oars; and we darted out from the little cove beneath the ledges where for seven days we had kept our camp-fire blazing. Kit took up a paddle, and from the stern directed our course toward the larger island.
"I can't see what better we are than any gang of desperadoes or filibusters," Raed remarked.
"Circumstances alter cases, Raed," replied Kit.
"Now, for God's sake, don't shed the blood of any of the poor wretches!" Raed said.
"Never fear: we will manage it without killing any of them, I guess."
On coming up within a quarter of a mile of the shore, we surveyed it carefully. There were none of the Esquimaux in sight, however, to oppose our landing; and the boat was rowed along to within four or five hundred yards of the place where the oomiak and kayaks had been drawn up on the shore. Landing, we drew up our boat between two large rocks, and went along to where the oomiak lay.
"What a great scow of a craft it is!" exclaimed Weymouth.
"Not less than thirty-five or forty feet long," Raed remarked.