The delicacies at these feasts were whales’ flukes and blackskin. The blackskin, the outer epidermis of the whale, is best liked when frozen, and then has a flavor something like that of muskmelon. The melting of the snows had made the winter igloos uninhabitable, and they were now living in their summer topeks,—cotton tents bought of the whalemen and traders. There was much open water in the sea, and southerly winds were beginning to crowd the main polar pack ice back toward the north. The ice within the arm of the headland where the ship lay was beginning to show many signs of weakening, and the boys began to look forward anxiously to the time when they should get up steam on the engines and try to push southward. They decided it was not wise to do this until the way was fully clear, and meanwhile they kept good lookout for a final whale. They were quite proud of their work during the winter and spring, as well they might be: six heads of bone were worth at the lowest estimate twelve thousand dollars; there were furs, principally white bearskins, to the value of two thousand dollars, reckoning very conservatively; and a few dollars’ worth of walrus ivory completed the list. They had used a small proportion of the stores and a reasonable amount of the trade goods left behind. They felt that it was a pretty good showing for two boys. Moreover, Harry had a monograph on the habits of the bowhead whale, gleaned from his own experience and the knowledge of the Eskimos, which he felt ought to add value to his report to Mr. Adams. How far away that other world which he had left only a year before seemed! His father and mother—and Maisie; had they given him up for lost? A great longing for home and friends and civilization came over Harry with these thoughts,—that homesick longing which is like death itself, and which sometimes kills when he whom it attacks cannot find relief in action, cannot take some step, however slight, in the wished-for direction. He went to Joe with tears in his eyes. “For God’s sake, Joe,” he cried, “let us get out of this. I want my home and my father and mother so that I can’t think nor sit still. Can’t we start up the engines and push out of this rotten ice? Once in the leads we could work south.” Beyond a doubt homesickness is infectious. He had no sooner spoken than Joe began to show symptoms of the malady. “Home?” he said. “Of course we’re going home. We’ll clear away this snow and ice from the deck and get ready for a start as soon as we can. A little more thaw would let us out.”