He answered by springing up again and licking my face and hands,
whimpering excitedly, glad that I had come at last. "Dear Partial,"
said I, "you're no gladder than I am. And what's more, you've nothing
to cost you penitence. Come, we'll go to the dining-room and see
whether there's anything left to eat."
He followed me now along the rolling deck, and happily I was able to
get him some scraps for his breakfast. Peterson heard me talking, and
thrust up a head above the engine-room hatch. He was as crestfallen as
myself when I showed him that, once more, we had been forgetful and
had left a friend while busy in saving ourselves.
I went once more to my cabin--Peterson having discovered, apparently
to his great regret, that so far as could be determined, we had not
started a seam or smashed a timber anywhere. I found a small tent
among other of my sporting equipment and tossed this out to go in the
long boat's cargo. Another fowling piece and ammunition, my canvas
hunting coat and wading boots, followed. Even, I caught down from a
nail the only other pair of trousers available in my wardrobe--for
Davidson's vast midship section comported ill with my own. I found my
watch in these other trousers, and putting a hand in a pocket, fished
out also my portemonnaie. It had certain bills in it--I presume two or
three thousand dollars in all, and I thrust these into my pocket. At
the bottom of the little purse,--among collar buttons and other hard
objects,--I found a little round white object, and once more bethought
me of my pearl which I had won on the far northern river, as it seemed
to me many years before--the pearl which, as I have said, was to be
known as the Belle Helène. I preserved it now.
Peterson and Williams, meantime, were busy in getting aboard a case or
so of water--not forgetting the ninety-three of which I reminded the
old man once more. Some additional stores of bacon and tea, and a
case of eggs, were also taken aboard. At length, with quite a little
cargo in the way of comforts, we embarked once more and started for
our rude encampment.
"We may be here for a month," said Peterson gloomily, looking at the
Belle Helène, now rolling just a little, her keel fast full length
in the mud-bar. "I don't think there's ever going to be any change of
wind--it'll blow steadily this way for a week, anyhow."
"I presume, Peterson," said I coolly, "that you don't see the sun
breaking through the clouds over there, at all. And I fancy that you
will not believe, either, that the sea is lulling now. Very well, I
don't want to make you unhappy, my friend."