TER-BOU-E-TTE. — HOMEWAED BOUND. 



563 



and ready for any amount of work. Eagerly was the word of 

 command waited for. The ice had cleared away ; the ship was 

 swinging lazily to her anchors, and all now required was to 

 weigh them and spread sail. But there was no wind. This, for 

 a time, made us hold on, until at length the captain, finding it use- 

 less to wait longer for a breeze, gave the signal, and away went 

 the windlass round to the mirthful notes of joyous men, as they 

 hove in chain and lifted anchor once more. Soon the ship was 

 clear, and then, with lines out, all the boats were manned to tow 

 her down the bay. 



As we left the anchorage all our Innuit friends surrounded us, 

 and with many words of kind regret again and again bade us 

 " ter-bou-e-tie" (farewell). There were not a few among us who 

 felt this parting. We had received much and constant kindness 

 at their hands, and the final adieu was not without those softer 

 shades of feeling which generally characterize partings at home. 



" Tcr-iou-e-tie, In-nu-iV— (Farewell, Innuits). 



But now it is over. The vessel moves on her way. The kias 

 and oomiens, with their occupants, gradually recede from our 

 view, and with a last wave of the hands, a parting look, we turn 

 our glances seaward, and allow our thoughts to be occupied only 

 with home. 



During the morning we were compelled to use the boats in 



