Soon the visitors had departed, and we were left alone on our sturdy little ship. We had sailed six thousand miles, crossed the Arctic Circle twice, fought through the dread reaches of Melville Bay, launched our planes over the unknown Arctic, and returned all unscathed. Now all was ended: “Timakeza,” as the Eskimo would say.
Two days later, as my train rumbled over the bridge, I looked out and saw the little Bowdoin lying quiet and peaceful in the tranquil waters of Wiscasset, her long voyage over. As she receded into the distance I recalled the happy days spent under the shadow of her masts, and in my heart the hope was born that once again I might tread her deck and feel the long ocean roll beneath my feet—outward bound!
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Illustrations have been moved to the nearest paragraph breaks. In some cases, these breaks are on different pages. The List of Illustrations has been updated to reflect these changes.