The Corvette

of Greenland. In his heart Singleton believed that it was where he would establish his mission on behalf of the Church Missionary Society. Eager to convert Meetuck it never occurred to Singleton that a male of Meetuck's maturity ought to have survived better on the ice, and the eskimo's lack of intelligence never prompted him to volunteer information he was not specifically asked for. All Meetuck knew was that Singleton was a gavdlunaq, a white man, and that he seemed to be a good one. In his simple mind Meetuck strove to please the men that had rescued him and fed him so well.

Seeing Singleton, Meetuck looked up and smiled, his thin lips puckering the wind-burned cheeks and his mongol eyes became dark slits. He said something and indicated the skins, particularly that of the polar bear, which he gently smoothed.

'It was a great bear,' Singleton translated for the puzzled seamen, 'and he who killed it was a mighty hunter…' The two men seemed to think this a quaint turn of phrase and giggled, having been much amused by Meetuck's antics and incomprehension at their inability to speak as did Singleton. Singleton was affronted by their attitude, his almost humourless disposition unable to see the amusement caused by the eskimo. 'Like Nimrod…' His voice trailed away and he turned aft to see the captain coming on deck, his boat cloak over the greygoe in the intense cold. It struck him that Drinkwater would benefit himself from warmer clothing and he turned below again in search of Mount.

The marine lieutenant was dicing with Rispin when he entered the gunroom.

'Ho, there, Singleton, d'you come to taste the delights of damnation then?' Mount grinned at the sober missionary whose disapproval extended to almost all the leisure activities of both officers and midshipmen, especially, as was now the case, it was accompanied by the drinking of alcohol. Singleton swallowed his disapproval and gave one of his rare, dry smiles.

'Ah, Mount, I wish you to prove that you deceive my eyes and are not yet sunk to a depravity that is beyond redemption.'

Mount rolled his eyes at Rispin, 'Lo, Rispin, I do believe I am being granted a little Christian forbearance. What is it you want?'

'Your polar bear's hide.'

'Egad,' Mount smote his breast in mock horror, 'you press me sore, good sir. Why?'

'I wish to have it for a good cause.'

'Ah-ha! Now it becomes clear, Mr Singleton, you wish to deprive me of the spoils of my skill so that I shall freeze and you will be warm as an ember, eh?'

'You misunderstand…'

Mount held up his hand, 'Are you aware what trouble I went to, to stop that whelp Quilhampton from claiming the damned animal was his. He had the nerve to claim that without his winging the brute I should not have struck him. There! What d'you think of that, eh?'

'I think it most likely, certainly he did very well to hit a target with his wooden hand.'

'Oh, I do not think you need worry about Mr Q's abilities. He does not seem in any way handicapped. No, Mr Singleton, you want the bear's pelt and so do I. Now what do you suggest we do with it, Rispin? How would you, old Solomon, decide between the two of us, eh?' Mount's eyes fell significantly upon the dice.

'But, Mount, it is not for myself that I wish to have the skin, I have already purchased several of the seal- skins.'

'What is it for then? Not that damned eskimo friend of ours?'

'No. For the Captain, I fear he may have taken a chill and you know that in this weather a chill may become bronchitic or worse, induce a pulmonary inflammation.'

'Why this is Christian charity… come, Singleton, let us ask Rispin to resolve the matter.'

'Very well,' said Singleton, refusing to rise to Mount's bait. 'Mr Rispin?'

'Let the dice decide,' Rispin said, incurring a furious glare from Singleton.

'That is dishonourable, Mr Rispin, you know I do not approve…'

'But it would be amusing, Singleton, come, let us see whether the Almighty will influence the dice…'

'That's blasphemy, Mr Mount! I do not mind you having your joke at my expense but I will not tolerate this.' Singleton turned on his heel indignantly and smashed his forehead against a deck-beam. 'God-damn!' he swore, leaving the gunroom to the peals of laughter from the two officers.

Drinkwater lowered his glass and addressed Bourne. 'Heave-to under his stern, Mr Bourne.'

'Aye, aye, sir.' Raising the telescope again Drinkwater stared at Narwhal. It was the third time that forenoon she had lowered her boats after whales and the third time she had recovered them as the beasts eluded the hunt and swam steadily north-west. For two days the Narwhal, Faithful, Diana, Earl Percy and Provident and Truelove had worked their way north-west with Melusine accompanying them. Only Captain Renaudson of the Diana had hit a whale using his brass harpoon gun, and that had turned out to be a razorback.

As Melusine came up under Narwhal's lee, Drinkwater hoisted himself onto the rail, holding onto the mizen rigging.

'Narwhal, ahoy!' He saw Jaybez Harvey's pock-marked features similarly elevate themselves and he waved in a friendly fashion. 'No success, Captain?'

Harvey shook his head. 'No, there be sommat curious about the fish,' he shouted. '

'Tis unusual for them to swim north-west in such schools. Happen they know sommat, right whales is slow, but these devils aren't wanting to fill the lamps of London Town, Captain, that I do know.'

Drinkwater jumped down on deck as Narwhal's hands squared her yards and she moved forward again, bumping aside an ice floe upon which a seal looked up at her in sudden surprise.

'If I hit him, may we lower, sir?' asked Walmsley, eagerly lifting a musket. Drinkwater looked at the seal as it rolled over.

'It's hardly sport, Mr Walmsley, ah… too late…' Drinkwater was saved the trouble of a decision as the seal, worried by the shadow of the Narwhal that passed over it, sought the familiarity of the sea.

Drinkwater saw the grin of pleasure that it had escaped cross Mr Frey's face as he sorted the signalling flags with the yeoman. 'Bad luck, Mr Walmsley, perhaps another time.'

'Aye, aye, sir.' Walmsley grimaced at Frey who grinned back triumphantly. 'God knows what you'll do when you meet a Frenchman, Frey, ask him to sit for his bloody portrait I shouldn't wonder…'

Drinkwater heard the jibe, but affected to ignore it. Walmsley's concern was unnecessary, the likelihood of their meeting a Frenchman so remote a possibility that Drinkwater considered Mr Frey's talents with pencil and watercolour box the only profitable part of the voyage.

They braced the yards round and Melusine reached east, across the sterns of the Narwhal, the Diana and the Faithful, tacking at noon in a sea that was scattered with loose floes. Only a dozen ice bergs were visible from the deck and the light north-easterly breeze had re-established clear weather. It was still bitterly cold, but the wind was strong enough to keep the surface of the sea moving, otherwise Drinkwater suspected it might freeze over. Although this would be unseasonable it was a constant worry for him as he inspected the readings of the thermometer in the log book.

Another problem he had faced was that of employment in the ship. During the days since the abatement of the gale there had been less danger from the ice, and they had worked slowly north in the wake of the whalers under easy sail. The diversions they had used on the passage north from the Humber had been re-started, although the weather was too cold for fencing, making the foil blades brittle. But the cutter had been lowered to pursue seals, for Drinkwater wanted all hands to be better clad than Palgrave's slops would allow, and hunting had ceased to be the prerogative of the officers. Marines and topmen trained in the use of small arms under Lieutenant Mount's direction, made up the shooting parties and it was certain that Melusine was the best fed warship in the Royal Navy. This fresh meat was most welcome and thought to be an excellent anti-scorbutic.

Drinkwater devised what amusements he could, even to the extent of purchasing some of the baleen from the whalers, in order that the seamen might attempt to decorate it in the same manner as the men in the whale- ships. As he looked along the waist where Meetuck supervised the cleaning of a fresh batch of seal skins and the