“Leave the half o’ ye to guard the arms, and come on the rest of ye without ’em,” shouted Buzzby.

The men obeyed, and in a few minutes the two parties mingled together with the utmost confidence.  The sailors, however, deemed it prudent to get possession of their arms again as soon as possible; and after explaining as well as they could by signs that their home was only at a short distance, the whole band started off for the ship.  The natives were in a most uproarious state of hilarity, and danced and yelled as they ambled along in their hairy dresses, evidently filled with delight at the prospect of forming a friendship with the white strangers, as they afterwards termed the crew of the Dolphin, although some of the said crew were, from exposure, only a few shades lighter than themselves.

Captain Guy was busily engaged with Fred Ellice and Tom Singleton in measuring and registering the state of the tide, when this riotous band turned the point of the ice-belt to the northward, and came suddenly into view.

“Jump down below, Fred, and fetch my rifle and sword; there are the natives!” cried the captain, seizing his telescope.—­“Call all hands, Mivins, and let them arm; look alive!”

“All ’ands, ahoy!” shouted the steward, looking down the hatchway; “tumble up there, tumble up, ’ere come the Heskimows.  Bring your harms with ye.  Look alive!”

“Ay, ay!” shouted the men from below, and in a few minutes they crowded up the hatchway, pulling up their hoods and hauling on their mittens, for it was intensely cold.

“Why, captain, there are some of our men with them,” exclaimed Tom Singleton, as he looked through his pocket-glass at them.

“So there are,—­I see Buzzby and Grim.  Come, that’s fortunate, for they must have made friends with them, which it is not always easy to do.  Hide your muskets, men, but keep on your cutlasses; it’s as well to be prepared, though I don’t expect to find those people troublesome.  Is the soup in the coppers, David Mizzle?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“Then put in an extra junk of pork, and fill it up to the brim.”

While the cook went below to obey this order, the captain and half of the crew descended to the ice, and advanced unarmed to meet the natives.  The remainder of the men stayed behind to guard the ship, and be ready to afford succour if need be.  But the precaution was unnecessary, for the Esquimaux met the sailors in the most frank and confiding manner, and seemed quite to understand Captain Guy when he drew a line round the ship, and stationed sentries along it to prevent them from crossing.  The natives had their dogs and sledges with them, and the former they picketed to the ice, while a few of their number, and the woman, whose name was Aninga, were taken on board and hospitably entertained.