The same boat
brought on board S---, my friend, who had begun the voyage with me
from Boston, and, like me, was going back to his family and to the
society which we had been born and brought up in. We congratulated one
another upon finding what we had long talked over and wished for, thus
brought about; and none on board the ship were more glad than
ourselves to see the old brig standing round the point, under full
sail. As she passed abreast of us, we all collected in the waist,
and gave her three loud, hearty cheers, waving our hats in the air.
Her crew sprang into the rigging and chains, answered us with three as
loud, to which we, after the nautical custom, gave one in return. I
took my last look of their familiar faces as they got over the rail,
and saw the old black cook put his head out of the galley, and wave
his cap over his head. The crew flew aloft to loose the top-gallant
sails and royals; the two captains waved their hands to one another;
and, in ten minutes, we saw the last inch of her white canvas, as
she rounded the point.
Relieved as I was to see her well off, (and I felt like one who
had just sprung from an iron trap which was closing upon him) I had
yet a feeling of regret at taking the last look at the old craft in
which I had spent a year, and the first year, of my sailor's life-
which had been my first home in the new world into which I had
entered- and with which I had associated so many things,- my first
leaving home, my first crossing the equator, Cape Horn, Juan
Fernandez, death at sea, and other things, serious and common.
Pages:
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485