them. Night was approaching, and the cold was becoming severe; still, I felt it would be much better to go on and ascertain if the ship were really there than to encamp for another night. Accordingly, I tried every argument and persuasion to induce Koojesse and the others to persevere, finally succeeding after much sulkiness on their part.
And now I was full of excitement as we neared the place where we expected to find the ship; but darkness came over us before we got across the bay, and I became very anxious for our safety among the shoals, of which there were many about. Happily we escaped serious peril, and on reaching the point of land to be rounded before entering the harbour, danger was lost in the general excitement. We looked eagerly and often for a sight of the ship. Presently a dark mass loomed up before us. A few more strokes of the oars, and all doubt was removed. The George Henry was in sight!
As soon as the vessel was seen, my Innuit crew, unable to repress their joy, fired their guns and sent forth loud shouts and cheers, in which I could not help joining, overjoyed to find the ship not yet departed. The watch on deck was at first in doubt what to make of the noise, but a second thought told him that I had returned with my party, and, giving a shout in reply, he rushed to inform Captain B of our approach.
In a few minutes more I was alongside, and saw the captain, with all hands, ready to greet me. Quickly I ascended the ship's side, and was receiving the captain's warm grasp, and the hearty welcome of all around me. I found that every one on board and most of the Innuits around had given us up, concluding that we were lost. It was supposed that our boat could never stand the trip for so long a time, so that when we returned in safety it was almost as if the dead had come to life. A hot supper was at once prepared for the whole party of us, and, meanwhile, numerous questions and answers passed. My first question was, "How many whales secured?" and I was surprised to receive the reply, "Not one."
