On the 2nd of November this course brought us to the bearings which certain navigators have assigned to the Aurora Islands, 30° 15ʹ of latitude and 47° 33ʹ of east longitude.
Well, then, notwithstanding the affirmations—which I regarded with suspicion—of the captains of the Aurora in 1762, of the Saint Miguel, in 1769, of the Pearl, in 1779, of the Prinicus and the Dolores, in 1790, of the Atrevida, in 1794, which gave the bearings of the three islands of the group, we did not perceive a single indication of land in the whole of the space traversed by us. It was the same with regard to the alleged islands of the conceited Glass. Not a single little islet was to be seen in the position he had indicated, although the look-out was most carefully kept. It is to be feared that his Excellency the Governor of Tristan d’Acunha will never see his name figuring in geographical nomenclature.
Taking in sail under difficulties.
It was now the 6th of November. Our passage promised to be shorter than that of the Jane. We had no need to hurry, however. Our schooner would arrive before the gates of the iceberg wall would be open. For three days the weather caused the working of the ship to be unusually laborious, and the new crew behaved very well; thereupon the boatswain congratulated them. Hurliguerly bore witness that Hunt, for all his awkward and clumsy build, was in himself worth three men.
“A famous recruit,” said he.
“Yes, indeed,” I replied, “and gained just at the last moment.”
“Very true, Mr. Jeorling! But what a face and head he has, that Hunt!”
“I have often met Americans like him in the regions of the Far West,” I answered, “and I should not be surprised if this man had Indian blood in his veins. Do you ever talk with Hunt?”