Sandy and my brother had now become the real leaders of the party, as the mate was too ill to issue orders. We speedily built a hut with sods and stones, and roofed it with the boat’s sails. It proved a far more comfortable abode than the cavern. We also collected all the drift-wood we could find, including that of the wrecked boat which had so nearly cost Croil his life. On examining the quantity, however, we saw that it was utterly insufficient to last us through a winter. My brother, therefore, proposed that we should cut turf and dry it during the summer, and advised that the hut should be much increased in size, with two outer chambers, by which the inner room could be approached and but a small quantity of cold air admitted. A lamp of walrus’ blubber or bear’s grease would be sufficient to warm it at night, provided that the walls were thick enough to keep out the cold. Our stock of powder being small it was necessary to husband it with the greatest care, and we therefore agreed to shoot only such animals as were necessary to supply ourselves with food.
I killed three deer and a bear which one night paid us a visit, and Sandy killed two walruses which he found asleep on the rocks. From the appearance of the ice Sandy hoped at length that he would be able to bring round the boat. For several days a huge mass had been seen floating by, carried on apparently by a strong current, while that in the bay had either melted or had been blown out by the wind. He accordingly set off with the boat’s crew, carrying provisions for several days’ consumption. Ewen and I meantime made our way northward to explore the part of the island we had not yet visited. We saw that it was of far greater extent than we had supposed, and that we should perhaps have to camp out two or three nights if we persevered in our attempt.
As Andrew had charged us to return before nightfall we were about to direct our steps homewards, when Ewen’s sharp eyes discovered a peculiar looking mound at the top of a headland some distance to the northward. As it would not delay us more than an hour we hurried on. Below the headland was a bay, on the shores of which we saw a hut. Could it be inhabited? If so we might meet with some one whose experience of the country would be of the greatest use. We were considerably disappointed on entering the hut to find it empty. It had apparently been for a long time deserted. Without delay we climbed up the top of the headland. We examined the cairn carefully, and found that it was built round and contained a bottle, on opening which I discovered a paper having a few lines apparently written with the burnt end of a stick. They were in English, but so nearly illegible that it was with difficulty I could read them. What was my surprise when I made out the words—
“Left here by the whaler Barentz. Saw her drift out to sea, beset by ice. Fear that she was overwhelmed, and all on board perished. Spent the winter here. A sloop coming into the bay, hope to be taken off by her.
“David Ogilvy.”
Here was a trace of my long-lost brother; what had since become of him? Had he got off in the sloop and returned to Europe, or had she been lost? Had the former been the case, we should have heard of him before we sailed. We hurried eagerly back to discuss the subject with Andrew. It was dark before we reached the hut. We talked and talked, but could arrive at no conclusion. Andrew feared for the worst. The boat had not arrived, indeed we scarcely expected to see her that day. Next day passed by and she did not appear. Two more days elapsed. We were constantly on the look out for her. I proposed going over to try to ascertain what had happened. The mate was getting somewhat better, and I took Andrew’s place that he might go out and take some exercise while in search of a deer. I was talking with Mr Patterson, who spoke hopefully of getting away before the winter commenced, when Ewen rushed into the hut exclaiming—
“A sail, a sail! She’s standing for the bay.”
“Go and have a look at her,” said Mr Patterson; “I was sure we should get off before long.”
I rushed down to the beach, where I found the rest of the party collected, gazing at the approaching vessel.
She was the Hardy Norseman, trim and taut. There was no doubt about the matter. On she came, gliding over the now smooth ocean. A shout of joy burst from our throats. All our troubles were over, as we thought. She stood fearlessly on, evidently piloted by one who knew the harbour, and at length came to an anchor. Her sails were furled immediately, and a boat approached the shore.
As she got nearer we saw that the boatswain was steering. His boat had then got off and fallen in with the ship. Such, indeed, he told us, as he sprang on the beach, had been the case. Had he not done so she would have passed on, supposing that we had all been lost; for, although short-handed, the captain had determined on prosecuting the fishery until the weather compelled him to return.