An Antarctic Mystery | Page 2

and the albatross live together
in good fellowship, and that was well worth my while. You have given
me now and again a dish of petrel, seasoned by your own hand, and
very acceptable when one has a fine healthy appetite. I have found a
friendly welcome at the Green Cormorant, and I am very much obliged
to you. But, if I am right in my reckoning, it is two months since the
Chilian twomaster Penãs set me down at Christmas Harbour in
mid-winter."

"And you want to get back to your own country, which is mine, Mr.
Jeorling; to return to Connecticut, to Providence, our capital."
"Doubtless, Mr. Atkins, for I have been a globe-trotter for close upon
three years. One must come to a stop and take root at some time."
"Yes, and when one has taken root, one puts out branches."
"Just so, Mr. Atkins. However, as I have no relations living, it is likely
that I shall be the last of my line. I am not likely to take a fancy for
marrying at forty."
"Well, well, that is a matter of taste. Fifteen years ago I settled down
comfortably at Christmas Harbour with my Betsy; she has presented
me with ten children, who in their turn will present me with
grandchildren."
"You will not return to the old country?"
"What should I do there, Mr. Jeorling, and what could I ever have done
there? There was nothing before me but poverty. Here, on the contrary,
in these Islands of Desolation, where I have no reason to feel desolate,
ease and competence have come to me and mine!"
[P. 5] "No doubt, and I congratulate you, Mr. Atkins, for you are a
happy man. Nevertheless it is not impossible that the fancy may take
you some day--"
Mr. Arkins answered by a vigorous and convincing shake of the head.
It was very pleasant to hear this worthy American talk. He was
completely acclimatized on his archipelago, and to the conditions of
life there. He lived with his family as the penguins lived in their
rookeries. His wife was a "valiant" woman of the Scriptural type, his
sons were strong, hardy fellows, who did not know what sickness
meant. His business was prosperous. The Green Cormorant had the
custom of all the ships, whalers and others, that put in at Kerguelen.
Atkins supplied them with everything they required, and no second inn
existed at Christmas Harbour. His sons were carpenters, sailmakers,

and fishers, and they hunted the amphibians in all the creeks during the
hot season. In short, this was a family of honest folk who fulfilled their
destiny without much difficulty.
"Once more, Mr. Atkins, let me assure you," I resumed, "I am delighted
to have come to Kerguelen. I shall always remember the islands kindly.
Nevertheless, I should not be sorry to find myself at sea again."
"Come, Mr. Jeorling, you must have a little patience," said the
philosopher, "you must not forget that the fine days will soon be here.
In five or six weeks--"
"Yes, and in the meantime, the hills and the plains, the rocks and the
shores will be covered thick with snow, and the sun will not have
strength to dispel the mists on the horizon."
"Now, there you are again, Mr. Jeorling! Why, the wild grass is already
peeping through the white sheet! Just look!"
"Yes, with a magnifying glass! Between ourselves, Arkins, could you
venture to pretend that your bays are not still ice-locked in this month
of August, which is the February of our northern hemisphere?"
"I acknowledge that, Mr. Jeorling. But again I say have patience! The
winter has been mild this year. The ships will soon show up, in the east
or in the west, for the fishing season is near."
"May Heaven hear you, Atkins, and guide the Halbrane safely into
port."
"Captain Len Guy? Ah, he's a good sailor, although he's English--there
are good people everywhere--and he takes in his supplies at the Green
Cormorant."
"You think the Halbrane--"
"Will be signalled before a week, Mr. Jeorling, or, if not, it will be
because there is no longer a Captain Len Guy; and if there is no longer

a Captain Len Guy, it is because the Halbrane has sunk in full sail
between the Kerguelens and the Cape of Good Hope."
Thereupon Mr. Atkins walked away, with a scornful gesture, indicating
that such an eventuality was out of all probability.
My intention was to take my passage on board the Halbrane so soon as
she should come to her moorings in Christmas Harbour. After a rest of
six or seven days, she would set sail again for Tristan d'Acunha, where
she was to discharge her cargo of tin and copper. I meant to stay in the