Picked up Adrift / Illustrated

by James De Mille

Captain Ferguson did not say much, but made them all get into the boat and go aboard the Fawn. He did not look at their camp, nor did they feel any regret at leaving the work which had caused them so much toil. Solomon only stipulated that he should take away the provisions—the barrels of biscuit, the potted meats, the hams, and whatever else had been accumulated there on that desolate shore. Nor was there any reason for longer delay, for the associations of the place were by no means of a kind which they chose to dwell upon; so the Fawn turned her back upon Anticosti, and stood out to sea.

As they passed the headland Bruce pointed out to Arthur and Tom the broken fragments of the Petrel, which still lined the rocky shore. But the eye of Captain Ferguson was turned elsewhere. He was on the lookout for the Antelope.

“We’ve got to go back after her,” said he. “If we wait for her, she won’t be here till to-morrow morning, and we can run down to where she is in less than an hour.”

As he said these words the Fawn passed outside the headland, and there, far away to the east, heading out to sea in one of her tacks, was the Antelope. There she was, her very venerable self at last, the schooner for which they had so often searched the water, for whose appearance they had so longed and hoped, and which never came through all those weary and despairing days. Now, when she was not needed, and, in fact, was not particularly wanted, she made herself visible.

The wind, which was against the Antelope, was fair for the Fawn, and in a short time the two schooners were within hail. Captain Corbet then made the best of his way on board the Fawn.

He had already seen the boys, and guessed all. When he stood before them the boys were all shocked at his appearance. Venerable he had always been, but now he looked ten years older than when they last had seen him. He was also very much agitated, trembled violently, and, going around, he shook hands with every one in silence. Then he turned away his head and wept. The boys all felt deeply touched at seeing this exhibition of feeling on his part, and even Captain Ferguson looked at him with less severity.

“Well,” said he, “I do believe he’s shed a good many tears about you, and if he did bring you into a scrape, he’s suffered enough for it, I say.”

After this his treatment of the venerable navigator was far more generous than it had hitherto been.

“I ain’t got much time to spare,” said he, “captain, but I’m bound to see these boys in a place of safety. So I propose to sail to Miramichi, and you hurry along as fast as your old tub can get through the water. I understand you’re all going straight back to the Bay of Fundy, and I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to do that much safe enough; so I’ll deliver up the boys to your care in Mirami-chi. I think I can make them comfortable enough till then aboard the Fawn.”

Captain Corbet had nothing to say against this decision, but meekly returned to the Antelope, and prepared to follow the Fawn to the destination mentioned. As for the boys, they were delighted, and felt only too glad at being able to have a short cruise on board such a vessel as the Fawn.