Perhaps the Walrus was not so well found in food and drinkables as an Atlantic liner. Yet there was enough, and everything was of the best.
What more could heart of sailor desire?
I think, though, that Ingomar, who remained in the Walrus, would have been glad if his friend Curtis had made one of the crew of this ship.
One word from the American and the transference would have been accomplished; but he did not speak that word. It would, he thought, look as if he, being the owner of the ships, were interfering with the arrangements thereof.
“Perhaps, after all,” he said to himself, “it is better as it is. We don’t know what may transpire yet. Arnold does not look a bit too strong, and—well, I should not like to see him sink and die.”
* * * * *
“Right gaily goes a ship when the wind blows free.” Thus sing some sailor lads.
And the wind did blow free, and fast also, some few days after the two discovery vessels parted company.
Not with the force of a gale, however, but that of a strong breeze, almost like a joyous trade wind, that filled the white and flowing sail and bent the gallant masts. This is perhaps a trifle too figurative, for the masts of ships like these would take a deal of wind before they bent, and when they did so, they would probably break. Of course the Walrus was not in low enough latitudes to catch the regular or trade winds.
These, it will do you, reader, no harm to know, are really north winds and south winds, that seem out of their course by the motion of the earth in its revolution. In the north of the equator, and its belts of calm and variable winds, and extending from about 10° N. lat. to about 30° N., we have the N.E. trades; and south of the equatorial belt we get, as you would naturally expect, the S.E. trades.