FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
31 
faces lined with the rough and smooth ; quiet men and 
boys from the East Coast fishing villages, and gentle men 
from the Shetlands. Fifty men from all the world ; 
strangers an hour ago, brothers now — in the one spirit 
of whisky, devilment, and adventure. 
What a picture they made as they swung together 
at the topsail halyards, their eyes gleaming, with open, 
thirsty rr*ouths shouting the old shantie, i Whis — ky 
John — nie. Oh — whisky makes the life of man. 
Whis — ky for — my Johnnie/ with the shantie man's 
solo, ' Oh, whisky made me pawn my clothes/ and 
all together again, with a double haul and a shout of 
' Whis — ky — John — nie/ that makes the blood tingle 
even to remember it. 
All small sail set, most of the crew disappeared, and 
left the clearing up of the decks to some of the Union 
and other clear-headed men. 
Going down tho Tay a search was made for stow- 
aways, and twelve poor young chaps were routed out and 
sent back to their mother country in a small boat that 
went ashore at Broughty Ferry. It was very touching to 
see the group of hungry-looking boys standing together 
in the waist ; some of them were crying with disap- 
pointment. 
The wind was light and from the south, so when we 
passed the buoy of Tay we turned northwards for the 
Pentland Firth instead of the Channel ; but we did not 
know what sort of weather was before us. Surely the 
money of the spaewives never sent manners worse 
winds. 
