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of the coast, from which the ice had been driven by the winds around the
north-west cape, that was already alive with them. Alas! these animals no
longer awakened cupidity in the breasts of the sealers. The last no longer
thought of gain, but simply of saving their lives, and of restoring
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themselves to the humble places they had held in the world, previously to
having come on this ill-fated voyage.
This re-appearance of the seals produced a deep impression on Roswell
Gardiner. His mind had been much inclined of late to dwell more and more
on religious subjects, and his conversations with Stephen were still more
frequent than formerly. Not that the boat-steerer could enlighten him on
the great subject, by any learned lore, for in this Stimson was quite
deficient; but his officer found encouragement in the depth and heartiness
of his companion's faith, which seemed to be raised above all doubts and
misgivings whatever. During the gloomiest moments of that fearful winter,
Stephen had been uniformly confiding and cheerful. Not once had he been
seen to waver, though all around him were desponding and anticipating the
worst. His heart was light exactly in proportion as his faith was strong.
"We shall neither freeze nor starve," he used to say, "unless it be God's
will; and, when it is his pleasure, depend on it, friends, it will be for
our good." As for Daggett, he had finally given up his hold on the wreck,
and it seemed no longer to fill his thoughts. When he was told that the
seals had come back, his eye brightened, and his nature betrayed some of
its ardent longings. But it was no more than a gleaming of the former
spirit of the man, now becoming dim under the darkness that was fast
encircling all his views of this world.
"It's a pity, Gar'ner, that we have no craft ready for the work," he said,
under the first impulse of the intelligence.
"At this early time in the season, a large ship might be filled!"
"We have other matters on our hands, Captain Daggett," was the answer;
"they must be looked to first. If we can get off the island at all and
return safe to those who, I much fear, are now mourning us as dead, we
shall have great reason to thank God."
"A few skins would do no great harm, Gar'ner, even to a craft cut down and
reduced."
"We have more cargo now than we shall be able to take with us. Quite one
half of all our skins must be left behind us, and all of the oil. The hold
of the schooner is too shallow to carry enough of anything to make out a
voyage. I shall ballast with water and provisions, and fill up all the
spare room with the best of our skins. The rest of the property must be
abandoned."
"Why abandoned? Leave a hand or two to take care of it, and send a craft
out to look for it, as soon as you get home. Leave me, Gar'ner, I am
willing to stay."
Roswell thought that the poor man would be left, whether he wished to
remain or not, for the symptoms that are known to be so fatal in cases
like that of Daggett's, were making themselves so apparent as to leave
little doubt of the result. What rendered this display of the
master-passion somewhat remarkable, was the fact that our hero had, on
several occasions, conversed with the invalid, concealing no material
feature of his case, and the latter had expressed his expectation of a
fatal termination, if not an absolute willingness to die. Stimson had
frequently prayed with Daggett, and Roswell had often read particular
chapters of the bible to him, at his own request, creating an impression
that the Vineyarder was thinking more of his end than of any interests
connected with this life. Such might have been, probably _was_, the case,
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until the seeming return of what had once been deemed good luck awakened
old desires, and brought out traits of character that were about to be
lost in the near views of a future world. All this Roswell saw and noted,
and the reflections produced by his own perilous condition, the certain
loss of so many companions, the probable death of Daggett, and the humble
but impressive example and sympathy of Stimson, were such as would have
delighted the tender spirit of Mary Pratt, could she have known of their
existence.
But the great consideration of the moment, the centre of all the hopes and
fears of our sealers, was the rebuilding of the mutilated Sea Lion.
Although the long thaw did so much for them, the reader is not to regard
it as such a spell of warm weather as one enjoys in May within the
temperate zone. There were no flowers, no signs of vegetation, and
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