"_My conscience, Rory! some folks pay dear for their whustle. But keep
up your heart, ma wee laddie. It's a vera judeecious arrangement_."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a few days more the _Arrandoon_ had made good her repairs, and as the
western wind had freshened, and was blowing what would have been a
ten-knot breeze in the open sea, the steamer got up steam and the
sailing-ship canvas, and together they took the loose ice, and made
their way slowly to the eastward. The bergs, though some distance
asunder, were still sufficiently near to considerably impede their way,
and, for fear of accident, the _Arrandoon_ took the cockle-shell, as she
was always called now, in tow.
For many days the ships went steadily eastward, which proved to them how
extensive the pack had been. Sometimes they came upon large tracts of
open water, many miles in extent, and across this they sailed merrily
and speedily enough, considering that neither of the vessels had as yet
shipped her rudder. This they had determined not to do until they were
well clear of the very heavy ice, or until the swell went down. So they
were steered entirely by boats pulling ahead of them.
Open water at last, and the cockle-shell bids the big ships adieu,
spreads her white sails to the breeze, and, swanlike, goes sailing away
for the distant isle of Jan Mayen. Ay, and the big ships themselves
must now very soon part company, the _Scotia_ to bear up for the green
shores of our native land, the _Arrandoon_ for regions as yet unknown.