“Yes she’s the ‘Lily,’ no doubt about it; she’ll see our signal before long, as she will be looking out for us.”
In another minute the whole of our party were on foot. I ran in to tell my father, who insisted on coming out to have a look at the object for which his eyes had so often ached in vain.
In the meantime our men had lighted a fire, believing that a long pull would be before them. Fortunate it was that they did so. My father was not in a fit state to go off without breakfast. The meal was scarcely over when the brig tacked, and the “Lily’s” flag was run up at the mast-head.
Not a moment was lost in launching the boat. My father was assisted down to the beach. We waited a few minutes, when the “Lily” hove to. Our last act was to lower the signal flag, and we then, getting on board, with hearty strokes pulled away for the brig.
“We have found him, we have found him!” I could not help calling out as we approached her side.
My father was helped on board, and warmly welcomed by our kind-hearted captain. Uncle Jack’s first inquiry was for the “Iris.”
“She’s all safe at the Aru islands, where I promised to rejoin her as soon as I had recovered you,” answered Captain Haiselden; “and as she has received some damage in the gale, she is likely to be detained there several days.”
The only person who looked unhappy was our Papuan guide; but he was reassured when the captain promised to land him at his own village, towards which we stood, as soon as the whale boat was dropped astern.
In a couple of hours we were off the mouth of the river, when we once more pulled off, with the same party which had before landed in the whale boat.