"I suppose," said the captain as we got aboard, "that it will be too late to get into Hudson Bay farther this season."

"Yes," replied Raed: "we are all a little home-sick, I expect. Let's go home."

The boat was taken up, and the schooner brought round. The sails swelled out in the stormy wind. "The Curlew" stood away, down the straits.

"Adieu to Isle Aktok!" cried Kit, looking off toward the snowy island.

"Our reign ends here; but no one can say that we have not been kings in our day."

We were five days going out to the Atlantic. During most of that time, the wind blew hard and cold. We were glad to keep snug as we could in the cabin. The ice collected along the water-line of the schooner to the depth of several inches.

With the exception of a heavy gale of seventeen hours' duration while off Halifax, our voyage home to Boston was, though tedious, quite uneventful,--the mere monotony of the ocean, which has been so often and so well described.

Arrived in Boston harbor on the forenoon of the 9th of September. Raed went up to the bank where we had deposited our bonds, and, effecting an exchange of $1,600 worth, came back to pay off our men; viz.:--

Capt. Mazard, three months and a half, $350 The six sailors, three months each, 720 Palmleaf, three months, 90 Schooner, 300 Damage done by shot, 100 ------ In all, $1,560 Then the expense of outfit, 1,100 ------ Giving a total, for the voyage, of $2,660

The remaining $40 from the $1,600 we gave to Bonney in consideration of the wound received in our service.

"Wish that splinter had hit me!" laughed Donovan.

"Go with us next summer, and we will give you a chance for _one_,"

replied Kit.

"Do you really think of going up there another season?" said Capt.

Mazard.

"Not into Hudson Straits, perhaps," replied Raed. "But we are going north again next spring. And, captain, I wish we might again be able to secure your services as well as those of the crew. 'The Curlew'

just suits us. We have got her fitted up for our purpose. We intended to have built a schooner-yacht; but, if you will put a price on 'The Curlew,' we will consider it with a view to buying her."

Capt. Mazard was unwilling, however, to sell his vessel.

"But I will make you this proposition," said he: "I will place 'The Curlew,' with my own services as captain, at your disposal,--you to pay all expenses,--for the sum of fifteen hundred dollars per annum."

We went below to consult.

"I don't believe we could do better," remarked Kit. "It will relieve us of all the cares of building and ownership."

We were unanimous in that opinion, and immediately closed with the captain's offer.

Our big rifle, howitzer, in short, all our property, has been left on board. The services of Palmleaf, as cook, have been retained; and during the fall, thus far (Nov. 16), we have been making the schooner our floating home, off and on. We have got a good anchorage off from the wharves. Occasionally we make a short trip down the bay, and go on board to have dinner, chat, read, and write, at pleasure. Indeed, this humble narrative has been recorded mostly on board, sitting at the table-shelf in our "saloon." We all like the arrangement, and cheerfully recommend it to young gentlemen of similar tastes.