This was merely one of Gruff’s tricks, for the little darling thought of something fresh every morning, and some of these I shall take the liberty of mentioning further on.
In three weeks’ time the good ship was ready to take her leave, and a very sad parting it was indeed for the Yak-Yaks and Teelies left behind.
Brace gave them a banquet on shore, which went far to assuage their grief, however. It was a huge cauldron of thick pea-soup, with lumps of fat pork and beef in it, and flanked with biscuits. The dessert was a couple of barrels of red herrings and a barrel of raw potatoes. These were scattered broadcast among the crowd, and to witness that scrambling and tumbling match would have wrung the tears of laughter from a coal-carter’s horse.
When all sail was set and the Walrus began to warm to her work under the influence of a ten-knot breeze, the rigging was manned, and three lusty cheers given for the simple, friendly savages they were leaving behind in the land of perpetual snow, and whom they could never expect to see again.
And down the wind from the tribes on shore came a long-drawn, falsetto cry of farewell. It was meant for a cheer, but sounded more like the moaning of a wintry wind.