[4] On the 27th the “Pandora” was driven out of Smith Sound by a gale.
CHAPTER XXVII.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
| “Still in the yawning trough the vessel reels, Ingulfed beneath two fluctuating hills; On either side they rise, tremendous scene, A long dark melancholy vale between. The balanced ship, now forward, now behind, Still felt the impression of the waves and wind, And to the right and left by turns inclined.” Falconer. |
| “Montano.—What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1st Gent.—Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood; I cannot, ’twixt the heaven and the main, Descry a sail. Montano.—Let’s to the seaside, ho! 3rd Gent.—Come, let’s do so; For every moment is expectancy Of more arrivance. (Within.) A sail! A sail! 4th Gent.—The town is empty; on the brow of the sea Stand ranks of people, and they cry—a sail!” Othello. |
Shortly before midnight, on the 9th of September, Cape Isabella was reached and the ships were clear of Smith Sound. As, on our outward journey, to me had been allotted the duty of erecting a cairn on that prominent headland, and establishing a post office, so, on our return journey, was I assigned the duty of visiting the place in order to ascertain if letters had been deposited there during the period of our absence by any enterprising friend. On reaching the lower cairn, to my great surprise—for we hardly expected that any one would have visited the place since our departure the previous year—I found an additional cask had been placed alongside the one that I had established there. This was quickly opened, and found to contain a small mail for each ship.
Hurriedly leaving a record notifying our visit, we eagerly seized our treasures and made the best of our way to the boat. Great was the excitement when the news spread that a mail from England was actually on board, and we were soon deep in the enjoyment of perusing late letters from home, a pleasure to which we had so long been strangers.
Many were the heartfelt expressions of gratitude that rose to the lips of those lucky recipients of home news towards that gallant officer and friend who had so perseveringly and so generously, in spite of many dangers and difficulties, succeeded in depositing their letters so far north. The bulk of our mail we imagined had been left either at Disco or Upernivik. Had we examined the cairn on the summit of Cape Isabella, we should there have learnt that the same kind and disinterested friend had taken them to Littleton Island, and there safely deposited them. Being ignorant of this fact, and the weather being against our proceeding thither, a course was shaped to the southward; those who were under the impression that our English letters were really on that island being consoled by the fact that we were steering homewards, and that in a short time letters would be no longer necessary or of any value.