On the next night it was learned that the 'Aurora' had left Hobart on her way South, expecting to reach us about the 28th, as some sounding and dredging were being done en route.
Everybody now became very busy making preparations for departure. Time passed very quickly, and November 28 dawned fine and bright. The 'Rachel Cohen', which had been lying in the bay loading oil, had her full complement on board by 10 A.M., and shortly afterwards we trooped across to say good-bye to Bauer and the other sealers, who were all returning to Hobart. It was something of a coincidence that they took their departure on the very day our ship was to arrive. Their many acts of kindness towards us will ever be recalled by the members of the party, and we look upon our harmonious neighbourly association together with feelings of great pleasure.
A keen look-out was then kept for signs of our own ship, but it was not until 8 P.M. that Blake, who was up on the hill side, called out, "Here she comes," and we climbed up to take in the goodly sight. Just visible, away in the north-west, there was a line of thin smoke, and in about half an hour the 'Aurora' dropped anchor in Hasselborough Bay.
CHAPTER XXVIII THE HOMEWARD CRUISE
We bring no store of ingots,
Of spice or precious stones;
But what we have we gathered
With sweat and aching bones.
KIPLING.
As we sat in the wardroom of the 'Aurora' exchanging the news of months long gone by, we heard from Captain Davis the story of his fair-weather trip from Hobart. The ship had left Australian waters on November 19, and, from the outset, the weather was quite ideal. Nothing of note occurred on the run to Macquarie Island, where a party of three men were landed and Ainsworth and his loyal comrades picked up. The former party, sent by the Australian Government, were to maintain wireless communication with Hobart and to send meteorological reports to the Commonwealth Weather Bureau. A week was spent at the island and all the collections were embarked, while Correll was enabled to secure some good colour photographs and Hurley to make valuable additions to his cinematograph film.
The 'Aurora' had passed through the "fifties" without meeting the usual gales, sighting the first ice in latitude 63 degrees 33' S., longitude 150 degrees 29' E. She stopped to take a sounding every twenty-four hours, adding to the large number already accumulated during her cruises over the vast basin of the Southern Ocean.
All spoke of the clear and beautiful days amid the floating ice and of the wonderful coloured sunsets; especially the photographers. The pack was so loosely disposed, that the ship made a straight course for Commonwealth Bay, steaming up to Cape Denison on the morning of December 14 to find us all eager to renew our claim on the big world up North.
There was a twenty-five-knot wind and a small sea when we pulled off in the whale-boat to the ship, but, as if conspiring to give us for once a gala-day, the wind fell off, the bay became blue and placid and the sun beat down in full thawing strength on the boundless ice and snow. The Adelians, if that may be used as a distinctive title, sat on the warm deck and read letters and papers in voracious haste, with snatches of the latest intelligence from the Macquarie Islanders and the ship's officers. No one could erase that day from the tablets of his memory.