in getting her unloaded, the Aurora did not sail
until Saturday evening. The sky was all aglow with a gorgeous sunset
when we weighed anchor and steamed out of Cape Charles Harbour down
across the straits of Belle Isle. The night was equally glorious. As
darkness fell, the sky and sea were illuminated by the northern lights.
There was no wind and the sea was calm. Close to our port side an
iceberg with two great spires towered high above us; another large
iceberg was on our starboard. Before us Belle Isle and the French shore
were dimly visible. Behind us the rocky coast of Labrador gradually
faded away.

XXIV. HUBBARD'S MESSAGE

Out voyage from Labrador to Newfoundland was uneventful, and on Tuesday
morning, May 17th, the Aurora steamed into St. Johns Harbour. I was on
the bridge with Captain Kean when we passed through the narrows,
eagerly looking to see if the ship was there that was to take us home.
To my great satisfaction the Silvia was at her wharf, and George and I
lost no time in presenting ourselves to my old friend Captain Farrell,
her commander, who was engaged on deck when we arrived. He literally
took me to his arms in welcome, and like everyone in St. Johns showed
me the greatest consideration and kindness. Bowring & Company, the
owners of the Aurora, placed at my disposal their steam launch and such
men as I needed, to aid me in the transference of the body from the
Aurora to the Silvia, and they would make no charge for either this
service or for our passage from Cape Charles to St. Johns.

On Friday morning, May 20th, the Silvia sailed from St. John's, and one
week later (Friday the 27th), with her flag at half mast, steamed
slowly to her dock in Brooklyn.

It was a sad home-coming. Scarcely a year before, Hubbard,
light-hearted and gay, filled with hope and ambition and manly vigour,
had stood by my side on that very deck as together we waved farewell to
the friends that were gathered now to welcome George and me back. I
thought of how, when we were fighting our way across the desolate
wilderness, he had talked of, and planned for, this hour; and thought
of his childlike faith that God would take care of us and lead us
safely out. And then I asked myself why George and I, whose faith was
so much the weaker, had been spared, while Hubbard, who never lost
sight of the religion of his youth, was left to die. I felt that I was
the least deserving. And I lived. And Hubbard died. Wh