“Sitka! Sitka! It never occurred to me that you had any desire to visit Sitka. I thought your sole ambition was to attain the North Pole. If you had only mentioned Sitka last summer I might have arranged the trip for you; but now I fear—”
At this moment there came a knock at the door, and when it was opened the quartermaster began to say, “Excuse me, sir, but here’s another—” Before he could finish his sentence a small furry object jerked away from him with such force that it took a header into the room, and landed at the feet of the commander on all fours, like a little bear.
“Bless my soul! What’s this?” cried Captain Matthews, springing to one side in dismay.
“It’s a baby!” screamed Miss May, darting forward and snatching up the child. “A darling little Indian in furs. Where did it come from?”
“Great Scott!” exclaimed Phil, remorsefully. “To think that we should have forgotten Nel-te!”
“Are there any more yet to come?” demanded the captain.
“No, sir; the whole ship’s company is present and accounted for,” replied Jalap Coombs. “But with your leave, sir, I’ll just step out and take a look at our boat, for she’s a ticklish craft to navigate, and might come to grief in strange hands.”
So saying, the honest fellow, glad of an excuse to escape from the cabin, where he felt awkward and out of place, as well as uncomfortably warm in his fur garments, pulled at the fringe of long wolf’s hairs surrounding his face, and shuffled away. A few minutes later saw him in the forecastle, where, divested of his unsailor-like parka, puffing with infinite zest at one of the blackest of pipes filled with the blackest of tobacco, and the centre of an admiring group of seamen, he was spinning incredible yarns of his recent and wonderful experiences with snow-shoes and sledges.
In the meantime May Matthews was delightedly winning Nel-te’s baby affections, while Phil and Serge were still plying the captain with questions.