“Are you going to start soon?” asked Fritz.
“Waall, there ain’t no ’mediate hurry, mister; but I allers like to be on the safe side, an’ when them islanders bring their second boatload o’ taters an’ t’other grub, I reckon we’ll be off. They’ve brought one lot already, in return for the dry goods an’ bread-stuffs I’ve let ’em hev; an’ when they bring the second, I guess the barg’in’ll be toted up!”
Not long afterwards, Fritz saw the islanders’ boat coming off from the landing-place. It was pretty well laden, and the swell had increased so greatly that it sometimes was lost to sight in the trough between the heavy rollers that undulated towards the shore. The Tristaners, however, being accustomed to the water and experienced boatmen, did not make much of the waves; but, pulling a good steady stroke, were soon alongside—the bowman catching a rope which was hove from the chains and holding on, while the various contents of the cargo brought were handed on board. This operation had to be performed most dexterously; for, one moment, the little craft would be almost on a level with the ship’s bulwarks, while the next she would be thirty feet below, as the billowy surface of the sea sank below her keel.
Eric was beside the skipper, checking the quantities of provisions which had been accurately calculated beforehand, for the Tristaners showed a keen eye to business and weighed everything they bartered for the whaler’s goods, when one of the men hailed him. This was the identical young fellow of whom he had spoken to Fritz when first expounding his projected scheme for going sealing to Inaccessible Island, and who, he mentioned besides, had told him all about the place. Indeed, he had actually suggested his going there. Eric had wondered much at not having come across this young man on the previous day when they had visited the settlement, although he looked about for him, so he was doubly pleased to see him now.
“Hullo!” cried out this Tristaner to the young German. “So you are back again, eh?”
“Yes,” said Eric. “Come aboard a moment; I want to speak to you.”
“All right,” exclaimed the other, who was a fine, stalwart young fellow, with jet-black hair and a bronzed face that appeared to be more tanned by the weather than owing its hue to coloured blood; when, in a jiffy, he had swung himself into the chains by the rope attached to the boat’s bows and was by Eric’s side on the deck of the Pilot’s Bride, his face all over smiles.
“You’re the very chap I was wanting to see,” said Eric, shaking hands with him cordially. “I was puzzled to know what had become of you yesterday. I did not see you anywhere.”
“I was away up the mountain, gathering grass,” replied the young fellow. “So, you’ve returned here, as you said you would, early in the year?”
“You told me such fine accounts of the fishing,” retorted Eric with a laugh, “that, really, I couldn’t stop away. I want to talk to you about it again now. This is my brother,” he added, introducing Fritz.