“The Evans? What port was she bound for?”
“Halifax.”
“And was my father all right when the Evans sailed?”
“Yes, although he had suffered somewhat from exposure, as had all of the crew.”
The fact that word had at last been obtained of his parent filled Chet’s heart with joy. He lost no time in introducing himself to the sailors who had been rescued by Captain Williamson, and from them obtained a full account of the ill-fated trip of the Betsey Andrews.
The ship had been all over the whaling grounds, and had had almost a full supply of oil and whalebone, when the commander, against the wishes of the mate and many of the crew, had decided to turn northward in quest of another whale or two. The captain had acted queerly, as if out of his mind, and had run the ship into a situation among the icebergs from which it was impossible to escape.
Many months of anxiety had been passed on the whaler, and the climax had come when the awful squeeze crushed her as if she had been an eggshell. In that calamity the captain and two of the men had lost their lives.
After the disaster the mate had taken charge, and the men had transferred their supplies to the shore and gone to living there. They had had more than enough oil to burn, and during the winter had kept a beacon light going, hoping it might bring some one to their assistance. Several had proved themselves good hunters, so they did not suffer for something to eat, although their diet was a limited one.
At last the Evans put in an appearance, and lots were drawn as to who should go aboard. Tolney Greene was one of the lucky ones, and the Evans had left, promising to leave word regarding the others at Upernivik and other ports.
“Oh, I am so thankful to know that father is alive!” said Chet to Andy.