Our departure was invested with even more solemnity than our reception. We were reconducted to the cabin at the bow of the ship, where we resumed our clothing. In place of the short jacket that I had worn I received, as a gift, a coat of sun-tanned walrus skin that incased my burly form without a wrinkle.
The barge, with all its men in place, was awaiting us at the ship’s side. I noticed at once that the paddlers were heavily armed. We descended, and were soon moving off along the shores of the tideless lake.
Before we had gone far, I observed that we were treated more deferentially than we had been on our upward journey. Nothing could have exceeded the respect shown us by the commander of the barge.
The effect of the pale moonlight upon the almost black surface of the Inland Sea was very striking. It made a path across the water as broad as a city thoroughfare, and, at the suggestion of Fidette, the man at the tiller kept our galley directly in this path of silver sheen. Our course lay eastward, and it was not until after midnight that we reached the outlet of the great lake. Although the coast line of floating sod was without any lighthouse or other marks of direction, the man who was directing the galley found no difficulty in entering the Grand Canal.
After the strange and curious events of the day, it was not remarkable that sleep should refuse to visit us.
Fidette and I were both suffering from the ghastly brand upon our shoulders, despite the attention which the surgeon on the ship of the Chief Kantoon had given us.
After midnight I fell into a troubled sleep, and did not awaken until broad daylight. Apparently, there was a strong current in our favor, because the oarsmen made very much better time returning than upon the upward journey. Although the Caribas was not in sight, I was able to recognize several landmarks.
A cold breakfast was served, consisting of baked shellfish and fruit, and we ate heartily. The men at the paddles had been fed about daylight, and had eaten as they worked.
The forenoon passed slowly. The sun was very warm, but the men never flagged in their steady and energetic stroke.
About 12 o’clock, as nearly as I could estimate, turning a sharp bend in the canal, the Caribas was descried straight ahead, distant about eight miles. I knew her instantly because of the excellent condition of her standing rigging. She was hull down, but I could not be mistaken about her topmast. I pointed out our future home to Fidette, and, as I expected, she indulged in a very womanish bit of crying. It was in vain that I attempted to divert her thoughts and told her of all the future happiness in store for her in our new home. I called her attention to the fact that all the joys that had been hers on the Happy Shark were gone. I dwelt upon the fact that it had been her father’s wish that I should regain my ship. I spoke of its luxuries, its modern appliances, and in every way attempted to interest the dear little woman.