Chapter Five.Andrew Scollay, a religious old man, encourages his shipmates in their fearful position, without food, fire, or shelter.—Archy distinguishes between his false and real friend.—He takes a run over the ice with Andrew, when a sail is seen, and at last a boat approaches.Hour after hour passed by, and still there was no abatement of the storm. Loud noises meantime were heard around, denoting the breaking up of the floe on which they floated, and they could not tell how soon the portion on which they had taken refuge might be rent from the main body and floated away. Often did Archy wish that he had remained on board, and not exposed himself to the fearful danger in which he was placed. At length old Andrew spoke to him.“Are you happy, boy?” he asked. “But you need not tell me—I know you are not. I am sorry to find you placed in this fearful position, but it was through your own fault—you chose to come against orders. It is bad for us, but then we came because it was our duty.”“I am sure I am very sorry I did come,” answered Archy. “But I didn’t think this would happen.”“People never know what will happen when they do what is wrong,” said Andrew. “Satan tempts them to sin, and then leaves them to take the consequences. Lads, I speak to you all as I speak to this boy. Are you prepared to meet your God?”“Why do you say that?” said Max, in a husky voice.“Because I think, before many hours are over our heads, the summons will come,” said Andrew, solemnly. “Any moment the ice may break up, and the sea may wash over us, or we may sit here till we die of cold and hunger.”“You are croaking,” said Max. “Our captain is not the man to desert us.”“I am speaking the solemn truth,” said Andrew. “The captain will do his best to search for us, but the gale will have driven the ship miles away by this time, and before she can get up to us we may be dead. I don’t speak thus to frighten you, lads, but because I wish to see your souls saved. You may say that you are such sinners that there is no hope of that. I wish you did know that you are sinners. You heard the captain read to you the other day the account of the thief on the cross. He knew that he was a sinner, but he found the Saviour even at the last moment of his life. He trusted to Jesus, who saved him; and he had the assurance from the lips of that loving One, that he was saved. Jesus will say to you what He said to the thief on the cross, if you will even now turn to Him: ‘Now is the day of grace, now is the day of salvation.’ Oh, lads, I pray you to throw yourselves on His mercy, to trust to Him. His blood cleanseth from all sin.”The seamen listened attentively to what Andrew said: they had often heard similar words from the lips of the captain, but they were in safety then on board their stout ship, and they had allowed them to pass away unheeded. Now, although they still hoped to escape, they could not help acknowledging that they were in a fearfully perilous position. Still no one replied. What was passing in their minds Andrew could not tell. He continued, addressing them in the same strain for some time. Again and again he told them of the Saviour’s love, and how earnestly He desired them to come to Him and be saved.Archy, however, had drunk in every word Andrew had said.“But would Jesus pardon me, who has so grievously offended Him?” he asked at last—“me, who have so often been told of His loving kindness and mercy?”“Yes, lad, that He will,” said Andrew, taking Archy’s hand, “He has promised it, and His word is sure. He has sent us this blessed message:—‘The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.’ He does not say from some sins, or from only slight sins, but from all sins.”“Oh, then, I’ll try and give Him my heart,” exclaimed Archy. “I’ll trust to Him.”“Yes, do that, Archy; but give him your heart now—trust to Him now,” said Andrew, earnestly. “We will pray, lad, that the Holy Spirit will help you, for He alone can carry out the work in your heart;” and the pious old man, kneeling down on the ice, lifted up his voice in prayer; and surely that prayer was not uttered in vain. Still, although the rest of the party made no response to his exhortations, he persevered; and from the loud crashing roar of the ice, as the broken fragments were dashed together, it seemed too likely that the day of grace for all would ere long be past. Hour after hour went by, and yet the portion of the floe on which they had taken refuge kept together. The storm continued to rage, and the snow still fell heavily. Piece after piece of the boat had been cut away its place being supplied with a wall and roof of snow, which the seamen gradually built up. They were beginning to feel the pangs of hunger, and they could scarcely get sufficient warmth from the small fire they were able to maintain to keep themselves from being frozen. It was near mid-summer. Had it been the winter they could not thus have existed many hours. Every now and then one of the party ran to the summit of the hillock in the hopes of seeing the ship. Still the falling snow shut out all but the nearest objects from view, and here and there alone a tall iceberg could be seen rising dimly amid the foaming seas. “No hope, no hope,” was the mournful cry of one after the other, as they returned to the hut.“Don’t say there’s no hope,” observed old Andrew. “God can send us help, though we can’t help ourselves. Oh, lads, I again say, and it may be for the last time, put your trust in Him. I don’t tell you that He will send us relief. It may be His will that our bodies should perish on the spot where we are sitting; but I do tell you, that He offers to rescue your souls, and will certainly, if you put your trust in Him, not allow them to perish.”Archy sat close to old Andrew, listening attentively to what he said, he had now learned to distinguish between his real and false friend. How earnestly he wished that he had not been led astray by the evil counsel of the latter. The rest of the party sat silent, their countenances exhibiting the despair which had taken possession of their hearts. Their fuel was well nigh exhausted, and suffering from hunger they knew that they could not hold out long against the cold. Andrew proposed that they should let the fire out for a time, and warm themselves by exercise.“We will then light it again, and it will enable us to lie down and rest without fear of being frozen,” he observed.To this wise advice the men would not agree.“If die we must, we will keep warm while we can,” growled out Max.“Then, Archy, you and I will try and keep our blood flowing by using our limbs,” said Andrew. “See, the snow has ceased falling, and there’s less wind than there was.”This was said after they had spent many hours on the ice. How many they could scarcely tell, for no sun appeared to mark the progress of the day.Andrew, taking his young companion’s hand, rose, and together they went to the top of the hummock, and gazed around for a minute, though they could now see much further than before. No sail appeared to cheer their sight. They quickly descended, and Andrew, with the activity of a young man, ran backwards and forwards under the lee of the hummock. Archy felt the benefit of the exercise; but though his hunger had increased, his blood circulating freely, made him feel better able to endure the cold than before.When at length they returned to the hut, they found the remaining pieces of wood burning, and that in a short time they would be left without any fire.“If you had followed my advice it would have been better for us all,” observed Andrew.The men made no reply; they all appeared to have fallen into a state of stupor, and to have become indifferent to their fate. Andrew and Archy sat down to rest, and to enjoy the warmth of the fire, anxiously watching the last few pieces of wood as they were gradually consumed. The embers which they scraped together afforded them heat for some time longer—then, by degrees, those died out.“It is our duty to hold out while we can, boy,” said Andrew, when the last spark of the fire was extinguished. “Come and take another run.”Archy felt very weak and faint from want of food, still he endeavoured to exert himself. Again they visited the top of the hummock, but still no sail was to be seen. The sea tumbled and foamed, and the surrounding masses of ice ground and crashed against each other, and the floe on which they were appeared to have decreased in size, while huge blocks, thrown up by the waves, rested on its weather side. Even Andrew was unable to run backwards and forwards as fast as before, and again they sought shelter within the hut. No questions were asked them; indeed most of their companions appeared to be asleep. Andrew in vain tried to arouse them. Archy felt that he, too, should like to lie down and go to sleep; but from doing this Andrew used every effort to prevent him, and in a short time proposed that they should take another ran to the top of the hummock. With difficulty Archy followed him.For some time the old man stood looking round in every direction, then his eyes rested on a particular spot to the northward, and Archy saw him raise his hands as if in prayer.“Lad,” he said suddenly, “look between those two icebergs. What do you see?”Archy gazed with beating heart. “A sail! a sail!” he exclaimed.“Yes—of that there’s no doubt,” said Andrew, calmly, “and may God direct her course towards us. She is at present standing this way; but should a whale be seen, she may steer in a different direction.” They anxiously watched the approaching ship for some minutes.“We will tell our companions,” said Andrew—“the news will rouse them if they are not too far gone.”Archy forgetting his hunger, and no longer feeling his weakness, rushed back to the hut, shouting, “a sail! a sail!” Max, and two of the other men, started as the sound reached their ears, but before they had gained their feet they again sank down on the ice. After making several efforts, they were at length able to walk, having in the meantime aroused their companions, who, sitting up, looked around with bewildered glances, as if not comprehending the news they heard. Archy again ran back, Max and the rest, with tottering steps, trying to follow him. They succeeded at length, and as they saw the ship, almost frantic with joy, they shook each other’s hands, and shouted and danced like mad people, their sufferings, their fears of death, were in a moment forgotten, and so probably also were any good resolutions they might have formed. How different was their behaviour to that of Andrew. Archy remarked it.The ship came on with a strong breeze, threading her way amid the masses of ice in her course. She had got within a couple of miles. Still, unless the eyes of those on board were directed in their direction, the flag flying from the hummock might not be seen. She came nearer and nearer.“She will not pass us now,” cried Max.“We will pray to God that she may not,” said Andrew; but at that moment the vessel was seen to haul her wind, and to stand to the westward. A loud groan of bitter disappointment was uttered by Max and the other men.“God’s will be done,” said Andrew. “See, mates, she has hove-to, she is lowering her boat. They are after a fish.”With what eagerness did the eyes of the starving seamen watch the ship. It was impossible to say in what direction she might next steer. They no longer felt cold or hunger.“See, see, what is that?” cried one of the men, as a dark object was discovered darting out from behind the nearest iceberg.Directly afterwards a boat was seen fast to a whale, and following in its wake. The whale approached the floe, but while still at some distance its flukes were seen to rise in the air, and down it shot into the ocean. Although those on the ice knew that they were too far off to be heard, they shouted again and again, their voices sounding strangely hollow in each other’s ears. The first line had apparently been run out from the boat; a second had been bent on; that, too, came to an end. They could see the four oars lifted up as a signal for assistance from the ship. Once more the boat approached them at a rapid rate, dragged on by the whale. It was evident she was in great distress, and that her crew dreaded the fate they themselves had suffered. Suddenly she stopped—the line had been cut. Would they turn away? No, the crew bend to their oars—the boat-steerer stands up and waves. They are seen—help will come to them. Again the cheer.“Let us thank God, for He has sent yonder boat to our assistance,” said Andrew.
Hour after hour passed by, and still there was no abatement of the storm. Loud noises meantime were heard around, denoting the breaking up of the floe on which they floated, and they could not tell how soon the portion on which they had taken refuge might be rent from the main body and floated away. Often did Archy wish that he had remained on board, and not exposed himself to the fearful danger in which he was placed. At length old Andrew spoke to him.
“Are you happy, boy?” he asked. “But you need not tell me—I know you are not. I am sorry to find you placed in this fearful position, but it was through your own fault—you chose to come against orders. It is bad for us, but then we came because it was our duty.”
“I am sure I am very sorry I did come,” answered Archy. “But I didn’t think this would happen.”
“People never know what will happen when they do what is wrong,” said Andrew. “Satan tempts them to sin, and then leaves them to take the consequences. Lads, I speak to you all as I speak to this boy. Are you prepared to meet your God?”
“Why do you say that?” said Max, in a husky voice.
“Because I think, before many hours are over our heads, the summons will come,” said Andrew, solemnly. “Any moment the ice may break up, and the sea may wash over us, or we may sit here till we die of cold and hunger.”
“You are croaking,” said Max. “Our captain is not the man to desert us.”
“I am speaking the solemn truth,” said Andrew. “The captain will do his best to search for us, but the gale will have driven the ship miles away by this time, and before she can get up to us we may be dead. I don’t speak thus to frighten you, lads, but because I wish to see your souls saved. You may say that you are such sinners that there is no hope of that. I wish you did know that you are sinners. You heard the captain read to you the other day the account of the thief on the cross. He knew that he was a sinner, but he found the Saviour even at the last moment of his life. He trusted to Jesus, who saved him; and he had the assurance from the lips of that loving One, that he was saved. Jesus will say to you what He said to the thief on the cross, if you will even now turn to Him: ‘Now is the day of grace, now is the day of salvation.’ Oh, lads, I pray you to throw yourselves on His mercy, to trust to Him. His blood cleanseth from all sin.”
The seamen listened attentively to what Andrew said: they had often heard similar words from the lips of the captain, but they were in safety then on board their stout ship, and they had allowed them to pass away unheeded. Now, although they still hoped to escape, they could not help acknowledging that they were in a fearfully perilous position. Still no one replied. What was passing in their minds Andrew could not tell. He continued, addressing them in the same strain for some time. Again and again he told them of the Saviour’s love, and how earnestly He desired them to come to Him and be saved.
Archy, however, had drunk in every word Andrew had said.
“But would Jesus pardon me, who has so grievously offended Him?” he asked at last—“me, who have so often been told of His loving kindness and mercy?”
“Yes, lad, that He will,” said Andrew, taking Archy’s hand, “He has promised it, and His word is sure. He has sent us this blessed message:—‘The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.’ He does not say from some sins, or from only slight sins, but from all sins.”
“Oh, then, I’ll try and give Him my heart,” exclaimed Archy. “I’ll trust to Him.”
“Yes, do that, Archy; but give him your heart now—trust to Him now,” said Andrew, earnestly. “We will pray, lad, that the Holy Spirit will help you, for He alone can carry out the work in your heart;” and the pious old man, kneeling down on the ice, lifted up his voice in prayer; and surely that prayer was not uttered in vain. Still, although the rest of the party made no response to his exhortations, he persevered; and from the loud crashing roar of the ice, as the broken fragments were dashed together, it seemed too likely that the day of grace for all would ere long be past. Hour after hour went by, and yet the portion of the floe on which they had taken refuge kept together. The storm continued to rage, and the snow still fell heavily. Piece after piece of the boat had been cut away its place being supplied with a wall and roof of snow, which the seamen gradually built up. They were beginning to feel the pangs of hunger, and they could scarcely get sufficient warmth from the small fire they were able to maintain to keep themselves from being frozen. It was near mid-summer. Had it been the winter they could not thus have existed many hours. Every now and then one of the party ran to the summit of the hillock in the hopes of seeing the ship. Still the falling snow shut out all but the nearest objects from view, and here and there alone a tall iceberg could be seen rising dimly amid the foaming seas. “No hope, no hope,” was the mournful cry of one after the other, as they returned to the hut.
“Don’t say there’s no hope,” observed old Andrew. “God can send us help, though we can’t help ourselves. Oh, lads, I again say, and it may be for the last time, put your trust in Him. I don’t tell you that He will send us relief. It may be His will that our bodies should perish on the spot where we are sitting; but I do tell you, that He offers to rescue your souls, and will certainly, if you put your trust in Him, not allow them to perish.”
Archy sat close to old Andrew, listening attentively to what he said, he had now learned to distinguish between his real and false friend. How earnestly he wished that he had not been led astray by the evil counsel of the latter. The rest of the party sat silent, their countenances exhibiting the despair which had taken possession of their hearts. Their fuel was well nigh exhausted, and suffering from hunger they knew that they could not hold out long against the cold. Andrew proposed that they should let the fire out for a time, and warm themselves by exercise.
“We will then light it again, and it will enable us to lie down and rest without fear of being frozen,” he observed.
To this wise advice the men would not agree.
“If die we must, we will keep warm while we can,” growled out Max.
“Then, Archy, you and I will try and keep our blood flowing by using our limbs,” said Andrew. “See, the snow has ceased falling, and there’s less wind than there was.”
This was said after they had spent many hours on the ice. How many they could scarcely tell, for no sun appeared to mark the progress of the day.
Andrew, taking his young companion’s hand, rose, and together they went to the top of the hummock, and gazed around for a minute, though they could now see much further than before. No sail appeared to cheer their sight. They quickly descended, and Andrew, with the activity of a young man, ran backwards and forwards under the lee of the hummock. Archy felt the benefit of the exercise; but though his hunger had increased, his blood circulating freely, made him feel better able to endure the cold than before.
When at length they returned to the hut, they found the remaining pieces of wood burning, and that in a short time they would be left without any fire.
“If you had followed my advice it would have been better for us all,” observed Andrew.
The men made no reply; they all appeared to have fallen into a state of stupor, and to have become indifferent to their fate. Andrew and Archy sat down to rest, and to enjoy the warmth of the fire, anxiously watching the last few pieces of wood as they were gradually consumed. The embers which they scraped together afforded them heat for some time longer—then, by degrees, those died out.
“It is our duty to hold out while we can, boy,” said Andrew, when the last spark of the fire was extinguished. “Come and take another run.”
Archy felt very weak and faint from want of food, still he endeavoured to exert himself. Again they visited the top of the hummock, but still no sail was to be seen. The sea tumbled and foamed, and the surrounding masses of ice ground and crashed against each other, and the floe on which they were appeared to have decreased in size, while huge blocks, thrown up by the waves, rested on its weather side. Even Andrew was unable to run backwards and forwards as fast as before, and again they sought shelter within the hut. No questions were asked them; indeed most of their companions appeared to be asleep. Andrew in vain tried to arouse them. Archy felt that he, too, should like to lie down and go to sleep; but from doing this Andrew used every effort to prevent him, and in a short time proposed that they should take another ran to the top of the hummock. With difficulty Archy followed him.
For some time the old man stood looking round in every direction, then his eyes rested on a particular spot to the northward, and Archy saw him raise his hands as if in prayer.
“Lad,” he said suddenly, “look between those two icebergs. What do you see?”
Archy gazed with beating heart. “A sail! a sail!” he exclaimed.
“Yes—of that there’s no doubt,” said Andrew, calmly, “and may God direct her course towards us. She is at present standing this way; but should a whale be seen, she may steer in a different direction.” They anxiously watched the approaching ship for some minutes.
“We will tell our companions,” said Andrew—“the news will rouse them if they are not too far gone.”
Archy forgetting his hunger, and no longer feeling his weakness, rushed back to the hut, shouting, “a sail! a sail!” Max, and two of the other men, started as the sound reached their ears, but before they had gained their feet they again sank down on the ice. After making several efforts, they were at length able to walk, having in the meantime aroused their companions, who, sitting up, looked around with bewildered glances, as if not comprehending the news they heard. Archy again ran back, Max and the rest, with tottering steps, trying to follow him. They succeeded at length, and as they saw the ship, almost frantic with joy, they shook each other’s hands, and shouted and danced like mad people, their sufferings, their fears of death, were in a moment forgotten, and so probably also were any good resolutions they might have formed. How different was their behaviour to that of Andrew. Archy remarked it.
The ship came on with a strong breeze, threading her way amid the masses of ice in her course. She had got within a couple of miles. Still, unless the eyes of those on board were directed in their direction, the flag flying from the hummock might not be seen. She came nearer and nearer.
“She will not pass us now,” cried Max.
“We will pray to God that she may not,” said Andrew; but at that moment the vessel was seen to haul her wind, and to stand to the westward. A loud groan of bitter disappointment was uttered by Max and the other men.
“God’s will be done,” said Andrew. “See, mates, she has hove-to, she is lowering her boat. They are after a fish.”
With what eagerness did the eyes of the starving seamen watch the ship. It was impossible to say in what direction she might next steer. They no longer felt cold or hunger.
“See, see, what is that?” cried one of the men, as a dark object was discovered darting out from behind the nearest iceberg.
Directly afterwards a boat was seen fast to a whale, and following in its wake. The whale approached the floe, but while still at some distance its flukes were seen to rise in the air, and down it shot into the ocean. Although those on the ice knew that they were too far off to be heard, they shouted again and again, their voices sounding strangely hollow in each other’s ears. The first line had apparently been run out from the boat; a second had been bent on; that, too, came to an end. They could see the four oars lifted up as a signal for assistance from the ship. Once more the boat approached them at a rapid rate, dragged on by the whale. It was evident she was in great distress, and that her crew dreaded the fate they themselves had suffered. Suddenly she stopped—the line had been cut. Would they turn away? No, the crew bend to their oars—the boat-steerer stands up and waves. They are seen—help will come to them. Again the cheer.
“Let us thank God, for He has sent yonder boat to our assistance,” said Andrew.
Chapter Six.Rescued!—On board the “Laplander” whaler, which is nearly full, and expects soon to return home.—Max Inkster tries to undermine Archy’s good resolutions, but the latter remembers that “a friend in need is a friend indeed.”—Sail for home.—A tempting channel appearing, it is entered, but the ship is nipped, and the “Laplander” is abandoned.—Escape to the floe with only a few clothes and provisions, when a plan is formed for reaching the coast of Greenland.The boat had some distance to pull before a spot could be found where she could safely approach the ice on the lee side of the floe.Max and the two other men, regardless of their almost dead companions in the hut, were hurrying down towards her, when Andrew called them back. “Shame on you,” he exclaimed. “Would you leave the poor fellows to perish for the sake of sooner putting food into your own mouths? Come, help them along, they want it more than we do.”The men thus summoned, returned and assisted Andrew and Archy, who were dragging their nearly insensible shipmates over the ice. At length they reached the edge, and were cordially welcomed by the crew of the boat, who made all speed to return to their ship the “Laplander.” She was almost full, they said, and they hoped soon to return home.The rescued men, on being lifted on board, were at once put under the doctor’s care,—for even Andrew and Archy, who had hitherto held out so bravely, felt all their strength leave them directly they reached the boat. They, however, in a couple of days were sufficiently recovered to go on deck and mix with the crew.Archy found the “Laplander” a very different vessel to the “Kate.” The captain was a bold brave seaman, but he was nothing else. There were no Sunday services, no prayer-meetings, no lending library of religious books, but there was much swearing and ungodliness among the crew.Max, who quickly forgot the fearful danger in which he had been placed, and his providential preservation, did his utmost to laugh Archy out of his good resolutions.“I wonder a lad of spirit like you can listen to the long sermons of old Andrew,” he said to him one day while Andrew was out of hearing. “I never could stand those preaching fellows.”“But Andrew kept his courage up, and did his best to preserve my life, while you and the rest gave way to despair,” answered Archy. “You cannot say that he is not a brave man, though he does preach long sermons.”“Yes, he is brave, I’ll allow,” said Max.“Then tell me, what do you think makes him brave?” asked Archy.“He is naturally brave, I suppose,” replied Max.“Now, I think that it is because he trusts in God, and believes that God will take care of him,” said Archy firmly. “And he knows that if he should lose his life that he will go to heaven. That’s my opinion of the matter.”“Your opinion, indeed,” exclaimed Max scornfully. “I should like to know what business a fellow like you has to form an opinion,” and Max turned away, unable further to answer the boy, whom he had hitherto so easily led. He took every opportunity after this of annoying Archy, and incited his godless companions to do the same.Archy often wished that he was on board the “Kate” again, and anxiously looked out in the hopes of falling in with her. The captain had been much put out by the loss of the whale and two lines when they had been rescued, and seemed to associate them in some way with the circumstance. A few days afterwards the watch below were aroused with the welcome cry of “a fall! a fall!” a whale was fast. The remaining boats pulled away, and in a few hours the captain’s good humour was restored by having the whale alongside. All hands were now in high spirits. “One fish more, and hurrah for old England,” was the cry.Several days passed away without any further success. In vain Andrew and Archy looked out for the “Kate.” The season was advancing, still the captain of the “Laplander,” anxious to get a full ship, cruised backwards and forwards in the hopes of killing one fish more. At length that object was attained, but one of the boats was knocked to pieces, and two of her crew drowned. The huge monster was secured alongside with all haste, the blubber was got on board, and the instant the carcase was cut adrift, the crew giving three shouts of joy at being full, sail was made, and the ship stood to the southward.The ice, as she proceeded, gathered thickly around her. Boldly, however, she pushed on through the passages which appeared between the floes. Now she was threading a narrow lane of water, now sailing across an open lake, but still on every side appeared those threatening fields of ice, which might at any moment enclose her in their deadly embrace. The captain, or one of the mates, was constantly in the crow’s-nest, looking out for the most open passages ahead, through which the ship might be steered.They had sailed on for some distance, when the ice on either side was seen to be moving. A tempting channel, however, appeared before them. The “Laplander” sailed into it. She had scarcely entered when the opposite floes began to approach each other. Still the breeze was strong and fair, and the captain hoped that he might be able to push through into an open space beyond before they could close. Nearer and nearer they came to each other, till the broad passage assumed the appearance of a narrow canal. It was at length seen that escape was impossible. The sails were furled, the ship was secured to the floe on one side, and an attempt was made to cut a dock in which she might remain while the inevitable concussion took place. Almost before the ice-saws could be got out and set to work, a loud crashing roaring sound was heard. The floes meeting with terrific force, vast masses rose up in the air, huge fragments being thrown upon each other, till in one instant a ridge, reaching almost to the height of the ship’s tops, was formed. The seamen, not waiting for the captain’s orders, seized their bags and bedding, and whatever they could lay hands on, and leaped out on the ice.“Follow me, Archy,” cried Andrew, seizing a bag of biscuits, and throwing a couple of blankets over his shoulder. “In another minute the ship may be crushed to fragments.”Archy lowered himself down with Andrew on to the ice, and with the rest of the crew they hurried away from the ship. Scarcely had they left her when the floes closed in, and vast masses of ice were seen rising up around her, the rending and crashing sound of her stout timbers telling them too plainly of her fate. Not till they had got some distance did the fugitives venture to stop and watch what was going forward. The masts were seen to totter, and large fragments of wreck were thrown on either side over the surface. The captain, as he saw the destruction of his vessel, wrung his hands with despair, while dismay was depicted on the countenances of his crew. So sudden had been the nip, that except the clothes on their backs and the bedding they carried under their arms, nothing had been saved. As yet too, the danger of approaching the wreck was too great to allow of the attempt being made, for the ice, pressing closer and closer, continued to throw up vast slabs, beneath which any one going near the spot might in an instant have been crushed. Suddenly the tall masts fell with a crash, and the whole upper part of the ship was cast in fragments on to the ice. For several minutes the seamen stood aghast, till the floes having accomplished their work, remained at rest. Andrew was the first to speak.“Lads,” he said, “I have seen this sort of thing occur before, and I and all with me reached home in safety, so may we now if we exert ourselves; may be the boats have escaped, and the provisions and stores may have been thrown up on the ice. I for one am ready to go back to the wreck and see what has been saved.”Several of the men agreed to accompany Andrew, and they made their way among the masses of ice which strewed the surface. Their search was in part satisfactory. Two of the boats had escaped injury, while their chests and a large portion of the provisions and stores which had been on the upper deck, were found scattered about. The officers, arousing themselves, now followed the example which Andrew had set. While one party were employed in collecting provisions, another cut the sails from the yards, which had been thrown on the ice, and erected tents in which they might shelter themselves from the piercing wind. Others chopped up wood, and fires were lighted. Some time was thus occupied, and at length an encampment was formed, with all the stores and provisions which had been collected piled up around, and the weary seamen were able to rest from their labours. A consultation was now held as to the means to be taken for preserving their lives. The boats could only carry a portion of their number, even should the ice again open and allow them to escape. As far as could be seen, it had closed in on every side, and probably they would have to drag them many long leagues before the open water could be gained. The land, by the captain’s calculation, was upwards of fifty miles away, but the Danish settlements, where they could obtain assistance, were much further off. At the same time, it was possible that they might find another vessel fast in the ice nearer at hand, which might afford them shelter. One thing only was certain, that they must lose no time in making preparations for their journey. Unhappily, the captain, disheartened by the destruction of his ship, was incapable of exerting himself. Although a good seaman, he was destitute of that higher courage which a confidence in God’s superintending care can alone give. He sat in his tent, with his head resting on his hands, for many hours, gazing toward the wreck, without issuing any orders. The officers differed from each other as to what was best to be done, while many of the crew exhibited a mutinous disposition, and assembled altogether in a tent which they had erected for themselves. Collecting a quantity of the smaller fragments of the wreck, they made up a large fire within, around which they sat, cooking some of the provisions which they had appropriated from the common store.Archy, from the time of leaving the ship, had kept close to Andrew, and assisted him in whatever work he was engaged on. While, however, he was collecting wood at a short distance from the camp, Max came up to him.“Well, Archy,” he said, “I see old Andrew intends to make you work for him; that’s his reason for keeping you by his side. Now, boy, if I were you I would not be led by the nose. Come and join us. I’ll own I had a hand in getting you into this scrape, and I wish to help you out of it. I and some of the other men have formed a plan to make our escape, and it’s my opinion that those who remain here will lose their lives. That can’t be helped, you see, for it’s impossible that all should be saved, and as I am your friend I don’t wish to leave you behind. Come along now, we have got a roaring fire inside there, and the fellows will let you join them if I ask them.” Max pointed to the tent of the mutineers.“I promised to stay by Andrew,” said Archy. “Unless he goes I can’t join you.”“I’ll see about asking him by-and-bye,” said Max.“What do you propose doing, then?” asked Archy.“Making off with the boats,” answered Max. “It’s the only chance we have of saving our lives, and we shall be sure to reach one of the Danish places on the coast.”“What, you would not desert old Andrew?” exclaimed Archy.“Oh, of course not,” answered Max, in a tone which made Archy suspect him, especially when he added, “Mark me, my lad, if you let old Andrew or any of the rest know of what I have been saying to you, there are some among us who would not scruple a moment to knock you on the head. Remember my words. I ask you again, will you come with us?”“No,” answered Archy firmly. “I promised to stick by Andrew, and I am not going to desert him.”“Then take the consequences,” exclaimed Max angrily, “and remember, hold your tongue, or it will be the worse for you.”Archy saw him return to the tent; but the men who crowded round the fire seemed very unwilling to allow him a place among them, and Archy suspected that had he listened to Max he should have had very little chance of getting near it either.On rejoining Andrew, Archy refrained from mentioning what Max had said, as there were several other persons within hearing, and, indeed, not till some time afterwards did he find his friend alone. Andrew, with some of the better disposed men, and a few of the officers, had taken up their quarters in a tent, and were now collected round a fire in the centre of it, though a much smaller one than that formed by the men. Andrew made room for Archy by his side. While they were discussing their supper, they agreed that they would form a number of sledges with runners for the boats, and placing the provisions and tents, with guns and ammunition on them, and such other stores as they might require, set off without further delay for the land. No one seemed to suspect the treachery meditated by Max and his party. The carpenter’s chest had fortunately been saved, and while one party assisted him in collecting wood and forming the sledges and runners, others were engaged in doing up the provisions and stores in packages of a size suitable for being carried on the sledges. The mutineers even assisted, and were especially busy in fitting runners to the boats.Some progress had been made in the work, when night coming on compelled them to desist from their labours, and take shelter in their respective tents. Archy, as he lay down to sleep, began to think that in spite of the threats of Max he ought to have told Andrew what he had said.“To-morrow morning will be time enough,” he thought, and he was soon asleep.
The boat had some distance to pull before a spot could be found where she could safely approach the ice on the lee side of the floe.
Max and the two other men, regardless of their almost dead companions in the hut, were hurrying down towards her, when Andrew called them back. “Shame on you,” he exclaimed. “Would you leave the poor fellows to perish for the sake of sooner putting food into your own mouths? Come, help them along, they want it more than we do.”
The men thus summoned, returned and assisted Andrew and Archy, who were dragging their nearly insensible shipmates over the ice. At length they reached the edge, and were cordially welcomed by the crew of the boat, who made all speed to return to their ship the “Laplander.” She was almost full, they said, and they hoped soon to return home.
The rescued men, on being lifted on board, were at once put under the doctor’s care,—for even Andrew and Archy, who had hitherto held out so bravely, felt all their strength leave them directly they reached the boat. They, however, in a couple of days were sufficiently recovered to go on deck and mix with the crew.
Archy found the “Laplander” a very different vessel to the “Kate.” The captain was a bold brave seaman, but he was nothing else. There were no Sunday services, no prayer-meetings, no lending library of religious books, but there was much swearing and ungodliness among the crew.
Max, who quickly forgot the fearful danger in which he had been placed, and his providential preservation, did his utmost to laugh Archy out of his good resolutions.
“I wonder a lad of spirit like you can listen to the long sermons of old Andrew,” he said to him one day while Andrew was out of hearing. “I never could stand those preaching fellows.”
“But Andrew kept his courage up, and did his best to preserve my life, while you and the rest gave way to despair,” answered Archy. “You cannot say that he is not a brave man, though he does preach long sermons.”
“Yes, he is brave, I’ll allow,” said Max.
“Then tell me, what do you think makes him brave?” asked Archy.
“He is naturally brave, I suppose,” replied Max.
“Now, I think that it is because he trusts in God, and believes that God will take care of him,” said Archy firmly. “And he knows that if he should lose his life that he will go to heaven. That’s my opinion of the matter.”
“Your opinion, indeed,” exclaimed Max scornfully. “I should like to know what business a fellow like you has to form an opinion,” and Max turned away, unable further to answer the boy, whom he had hitherto so easily led. He took every opportunity after this of annoying Archy, and incited his godless companions to do the same.
Archy often wished that he was on board the “Kate” again, and anxiously looked out in the hopes of falling in with her. The captain had been much put out by the loss of the whale and two lines when they had been rescued, and seemed to associate them in some way with the circumstance. A few days afterwards the watch below were aroused with the welcome cry of “a fall! a fall!” a whale was fast. The remaining boats pulled away, and in a few hours the captain’s good humour was restored by having the whale alongside. All hands were now in high spirits. “One fish more, and hurrah for old England,” was the cry.
Several days passed away without any further success. In vain Andrew and Archy looked out for the “Kate.” The season was advancing, still the captain of the “Laplander,” anxious to get a full ship, cruised backwards and forwards in the hopes of killing one fish more. At length that object was attained, but one of the boats was knocked to pieces, and two of her crew drowned. The huge monster was secured alongside with all haste, the blubber was got on board, and the instant the carcase was cut adrift, the crew giving three shouts of joy at being full, sail was made, and the ship stood to the southward.
The ice, as she proceeded, gathered thickly around her. Boldly, however, she pushed on through the passages which appeared between the floes. Now she was threading a narrow lane of water, now sailing across an open lake, but still on every side appeared those threatening fields of ice, which might at any moment enclose her in their deadly embrace. The captain, or one of the mates, was constantly in the crow’s-nest, looking out for the most open passages ahead, through which the ship might be steered.
They had sailed on for some distance, when the ice on either side was seen to be moving. A tempting channel, however, appeared before them. The “Laplander” sailed into it. She had scarcely entered when the opposite floes began to approach each other. Still the breeze was strong and fair, and the captain hoped that he might be able to push through into an open space beyond before they could close. Nearer and nearer they came to each other, till the broad passage assumed the appearance of a narrow canal. It was at length seen that escape was impossible. The sails were furled, the ship was secured to the floe on one side, and an attempt was made to cut a dock in which she might remain while the inevitable concussion took place. Almost before the ice-saws could be got out and set to work, a loud crashing roaring sound was heard. The floes meeting with terrific force, vast masses rose up in the air, huge fragments being thrown upon each other, till in one instant a ridge, reaching almost to the height of the ship’s tops, was formed. The seamen, not waiting for the captain’s orders, seized their bags and bedding, and whatever they could lay hands on, and leaped out on the ice.
“Follow me, Archy,” cried Andrew, seizing a bag of biscuits, and throwing a couple of blankets over his shoulder. “In another minute the ship may be crushed to fragments.”
Archy lowered himself down with Andrew on to the ice, and with the rest of the crew they hurried away from the ship. Scarcely had they left her when the floes closed in, and vast masses of ice were seen rising up around her, the rending and crashing sound of her stout timbers telling them too plainly of her fate. Not till they had got some distance did the fugitives venture to stop and watch what was going forward. The masts were seen to totter, and large fragments of wreck were thrown on either side over the surface. The captain, as he saw the destruction of his vessel, wrung his hands with despair, while dismay was depicted on the countenances of his crew. So sudden had been the nip, that except the clothes on their backs and the bedding they carried under their arms, nothing had been saved. As yet too, the danger of approaching the wreck was too great to allow of the attempt being made, for the ice, pressing closer and closer, continued to throw up vast slabs, beneath which any one going near the spot might in an instant have been crushed. Suddenly the tall masts fell with a crash, and the whole upper part of the ship was cast in fragments on to the ice. For several minutes the seamen stood aghast, till the floes having accomplished their work, remained at rest. Andrew was the first to speak.
“Lads,” he said, “I have seen this sort of thing occur before, and I and all with me reached home in safety, so may we now if we exert ourselves; may be the boats have escaped, and the provisions and stores may have been thrown up on the ice. I for one am ready to go back to the wreck and see what has been saved.”
Several of the men agreed to accompany Andrew, and they made their way among the masses of ice which strewed the surface. Their search was in part satisfactory. Two of the boats had escaped injury, while their chests and a large portion of the provisions and stores which had been on the upper deck, were found scattered about. The officers, arousing themselves, now followed the example which Andrew had set. While one party were employed in collecting provisions, another cut the sails from the yards, which had been thrown on the ice, and erected tents in which they might shelter themselves from the piercing wind. Others chopped up wood, and fires were lighted. Some time was thus occupied, and at length an encampment was formed, with all the stores and provisions which had been collected piled up around, and the weary seamen were able to rest from their labours. A consultation was now held as to the means to be taken for preserving their lives. The boats could only carry a portion of their number, even should the ice again open and allow them to escape. As far as could be seen, it had closed in on every side, and probably they would have to drag them many long leagues before the open water could be gained. The land, by the captain’s calculation, was upwards of fifty miles away, but the Danish settlements, where they could obtain assistance, were much further off. At the same time, it was possible that they might find another vessel fast in the ice nearer at hand, which might afford them shelter. One thing only was certain, that they must lose no time in making preparations for their journey. Unhappily, the captain, disheartened by the destruction of his ship, was incapable of exerting himself. Although a good seaman, he was destitute of that higher courage which a confidence in God’s superintending care can alone give. He sat in his tent, with his head resting on his hands, for many hours, gazing toward the wreck, without issuing any orders. The officers differed from each other as to what was best to be done, while many of the crew exhibited a mutinous disposition, and assembled altogether in a tent which they had erected for themselves. Collecting a quantity of the smaller fragments of the wreck, they made up a large fire within, around which they sat, cooking some of the provisions which they had appropriated from the common store.
Archy, from the time of leaving the ship, had kept close to Andrew, and assisted him in whatever work he was engaged on. While, however, he was collecting wood at a short distance from the camp, Max came up to him.
“Well, Archy,” he said, “I see old Andrew intends to make you work for him; that’s his reason for keeping you by his side. Now, boy, if I were you I would not be led by the nose. Come and join us. I’ll own I had a hand in getting you into this scrape, and I wish to help you out of it. I and some of the other men have formed a plan to make our escape, and it’s my opinion that those who remain here will lose their lives. That can’t be helped, you see, for it’s impossible that all should be saved, and as I am your friend I don’t wish to leave you behind. Come along now, we have got a roaring fire inside there, and the fellows will let you join them if I ask them.” Max pointed to the tent of the mutineers.
“I promised to stay by Andrew,” said Archy. “Unless he goes I can’t join you.”
“I’ll see about asking him by-and-bye,” said Max.
“What do you propose doing, then?” asked Archy.
“Making off with the boats,” answered Max. “It’s the only chance we have of saving our lives, and we shall be sure to reach one of the Danish places on the coast.”
“What, you would not desert old Andrew?” exclaimed Archy.
“Oh, of course not,” answered Max, in a tone which made Archy suspect him, especially when he added, “Mark me, my lad, if you let old Andrew or any of the rest know of what I have been saying to you, there are some among us who would not scruple a moment to knock you on the head. Remember my words. I ask you again, will you come with us?”
“No,” answered Archy firmly. “I promised to stick by Andrew, and I am not going to desert him.”
“Then take the consequences,” exclaimed Max angrily, “and remember, hold your tongue, or it will be the worse for you.”
Archy saw him return to the tent; but the men who crowded round the fire seemed very unwilling to allow him a place among them, and Archy suspected that had he listened to Max he should have had very little chance of getting near it either.
On rejoining Andrew, Archy refrained from mentioning what Max had said, as there were several other persons within hearing, and, indeed, not till some time afterwards did he find his friend alone. Andrew, with some of the better disposed men, and a few of the officers, had taken up their quarters in a tent, and were now collected round a fire in the centre of it, though a much smaller one than that formed by the men. Andrew made room for Archy by his side. While they were discussing their supper, they agreed that they would form a number of sledges with runners for the boats, and placing the provisions and tents, with guns and ammunition on them, and such other stores as they might require, set off without further delay for the land. No one seemed to suspect the treachery meditated by Max and his party. The carpenter’s chest had fortunately been saved, and while one party assisted him in collecting wood and forming the sledges and runners, others were engaged in doing up the provisions and stores in packages of a size suitable for being carried on the sledges. The mutineers even assisted, and were especially busy in fitting runners to the boats.
Some progress had been made in the work, when night coming on compelled them to desist from their labours, and take shelter in their respective tents. Archy, as he lay down to sleep, began to think that in spite of the threats of Max he ought to have told Andrew what he had said.
“To-morrow morning will be time enough,” he thought, and he was soon asleep.
Chapter Seven.Mutiny! Most of the crew carrying the greater part of the provisions, set off without the others.—Proposals for pursuit, but not carried out, and at last the remainder commence their journey across the ice, meeting with great difficulties.—The captain becomes ill, but is cheered by Andrew.—He at length dies, after Andrew has placed before him the truth, which he accepts.—He is buried in a snow tomb.Archy was awakened by hearing one of the officers, who had gone out of the tent, exclaim, “Why, what have become of the boats?” The rest of the inmates of the tents were quickly on foot. They looked around. Far away in the distance two dark spots could be seen on the ice. Andrew and several others ran to the tent of the mutineers—it was empty. The fire had burnt a hole in the ice and disappeared. Had it not been for those objects far off they might have supposed that the sleepers had gone in with it and been drowned. The provisions were next examined—the packages prepared for travelling had greatly diminished. Several, indignant at being thus deserted, proposed setting off in pursuit of the fugitives.“They have fire-arms with them, and you will not get them to come back, lads,” said the captain, who had come out of his tent.In spite of his warnings, and the advice of Andrew, who urged that it was better to let them go, a number of men, and two of the officers, started away, vowing that they would bring back the mutineers, and punish them for their treachery.At first, the party thus deserted seemed inclined to give way to despair, and Archy more than ever regretted that he had not warned his friends of the intended treachery.“Come along, lads, to the wreck,” exclaimed Andrew. “Perhaps we may find another boat, which we may be able to repair, and some more provisions to replace those carried off.”Thus appealed to, the carpenter, with several men, set off with Andrew to the wreck, Archy accompanying his friend. After climbing over a number of huge masses of ice, they made their way to the opposite floe, which was now firmly united to the one it had struck. Here they found a quantity of the wreck scattered about, as well as several casks of meat and biscuits, and wedged between two slabs, the smallest boat, which had hung at the stern. The carpenter, on examining her, expressed his hopes that by fastening canvas round her, he could make her float sufficiently to enable them to pass from one floe to another, should they meet any open channels in their course. This discovery raised their spirits. The party immediately hastened back to their companions with the news. It was agreed that they should at once move across to the floe, with the tents and provisions, and forming a new encampment, go on with the work of preparing the sledges. Frequently as they went backwards and forwards, they looked out for the return of the party who had gone in pursuit of the mutineers. The latter had got far out of sight before they could have been overtaken. What had become of the pursuers no one could say. Some supposed that the two parties had united and gone on together, while others fancied that they had fought, and that those who had been defeated had been left alone on the ice, while the victors had pushed on with the boats.The whole day was occupied in moving to the new encampment, and it was nearly dark before their tents were erected and other preparations made for passing the night. The wind had latterly increased greatly, and clouds had been collecting to the north. Scarcely had they got under shelter when the snow began to fall heavily, and the sharp wind swept across the icy plain with terrific force.“Archy, we may be thankful that we are not with those poor fellows who deserted us,” observed Andrew as they sat together round the fire in their tent. “It will be a mercy if any of them escape even if they reached the open water before nightfall, and it’s my opinion that they will not have done that.”“They deserve their fate, whatever it may be,” growled out one of the men.“Ah, friend, we all deserve far more than we receive,” said Andrew. “If God was to treat us according to our merits, the best of us could only look for punishment. Let us pray that He will have mercy on them as well as on us. Oh, mates, I wish you could all understand the great love which God has for us poor sinners. We exposed ourselves of our own free choice to the danger and hardship we have to endure, but He in His mercy offers us free salvation and eternal happiness for our souls. He gave Jesus Christ to suffer instead of us, and it’s our own fault if we do not accept His precious gift. All He asks us to do is to trust to His love, and believe that Jesus died for us and that His blood washes away all our sins.”Several of Andrew’s companions listened with deep earnestness to his words, and on that bleak floe, and amid those arctic snows, believed to the salvation of their souls.All night long the wind swept by them, the snow fell faster and faster, but they heeded not the tempest. A bright light had burst upon them, and they could look forward with hope to the future, trusting to that God of love and mercy whom they had hitherto only known as a stern and severe judge.When morning broke all hands set to work to clear away the snow, which had covered up the boat and everything left outside the tents. The wind, however, had ceased, and they were able to go on with their labours, and by the evening the sledges were completed and the boat prepared and placed on runners. They were then loaded, that the party might be ready to start the following morning on their journey. Twice during the day, Andrew with several of the other men had gone over to the old encampment to ascertain if any of those who had deserted them had come back. They cast their eyes in vain over the wide snow-covered plain,—not a trace of a human being could be seen. It was too probable that all had perished. More than half the ship’s company had thus been lost.The night was passed in comparative comfort. They had well-formed tents, abundance of bedding, and ample fires. All knew that in future the case would be very different. The sledges were chiefly loaded with provisions. They were obliged to reduce their tents to the smallest possible size, and they could carry but a limited supply of fuel. There were five sledges in all, each drawn by four men, while six men were harnessed to the boat, in which the old captain, who was unable to walk, was placed. Andrew joined the latter party, and Archy, on account of his youth, was excused from dragging a sledge,—he, however, carried his blankets and some provisions on his back, each man being also loaded in the same way. The snow having partially melted under the still hot rays of the sun, had again frozen, and had filled up all inequalities in the ice. This enabled the party to drag the sledges along during the first day without difficulty. They had, however, to make frequent circuits to avoid the hummocks, which in some places were very numerous. They calculated by nightfall that they had advanced nearly twelve miles on their journey towards the coast. The uneven appearance of the ice beyond them, interspersed in many places with huge icebergs, warned them that in future they could not hope to advance so rapidly.Hitherto they had not suffered much from cold, but that night, as they lay in their tents with the small fires which their limited supply of fuel allowed them to keep up, they were nearly frozen. Andrew several times remembering the advantage he had before gained from taking exercise, got up and ran about to warm himself. Those who followed his example awoke refreshed and fit for work, whereas those who had remained quiet all the night, found their limbs stiff and their feet and hands frozen, and it was not till after, with the help of their companions, they had moved about and undergone great pain, that they were able to proceed. Some, indeed, had suffered so much, that they entreated to be left to die rather than undergo the hardships they would have to endure. Andrew urged them to arouse themselves.“It is our duty, lads, to straggle on as long as we can. God may think fit to try us, but let us trust in Him and He may find a way for us at last to escape, though we are too blind to see it,” he observed.His exhortations produced a good effect, and once more they proceeded on their journey. The old captain had suffered the most, and it seemed very probable that he would be unable to hold out many days longer. Andrew seeing his condition, frequently spoke to him, and though hitherto he had turned scornfully away, he now willingly listened to the words the faithful Christian uttered.“Oh!” he exclaimed at length, “I wish that I had heard you before. It is too late now, I have been a terrible sinner, God can never pardon so bad a man as I am.”“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Andrew, “Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. He saved the thief on the cross, He saved the jailor at Philippi. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. He says, ‘Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson they shall be as wool.’”This was said while they were stopping to take their mid-day meal.The old captain raised himself up and grasped Andrew’s hand.“Do you really speak the truth to me?” he exclaimed.“I repeat what God says, sir, and He cannot lie,” answered Andrew. “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.”“I do, I do,” cried the old man. “But oh! what would I now give had I known this in my youth. What years of wickedness and misery it would have saved me.”“Ah, sir! there are thousands upon thousands who may say that,” replied Andrew. “Archy, you hear the captain’s words. Don’t forget them, boy. If God in His mercy allows you to return home in safety, repeat them to your young companions, and urge them to ‘seek the Lord while He may be found.’ You may thus render them a service for which they will have cause to thank you through eternity.”“I will try,” said Archy humbly, “but it is difficult to speak to others.”“Pray for the aid of God’s Holy Spirit, and He will enable you to do it,” said Andrew.“I will try,” repeated Archy, for he had discovered his own weakness. Through that discovery alone can strength be obtained.The shipwrecked party again pushed on, the party keeping ahead. Some of the men had begun to complain that the boat detained them. They supposed that the ice was attached throughout to the mainland, and believed that they could do without her. The captain tried to persuade them that they were mistaken, but they had lost their respect for him, and declared that they knew better. Andrew thought the captain was right, and entreated them to listen to his advice. Their replies showed that they were bent on pushing on. The worthy carpenter, James Foubister by name, also a Shetlander, sided with Andrew, and promised not to desert the old captain. Their example influenced most of the other men attached to the boat, who agreed, should the rest of the party do as they proposed, to remain with them. By exerting themselves to the utmost they overtook the sledge parties soon after they had encamped. Andrew again spoke earnestly to his companions, pointing out to them the danger they would ran by separating, and he hoped at length that they had abandoned their design.The next day they went on as before. The cold was increasing, and except when they were in active exercise, they felt it severely. The old captain especially, from being unable to move, suffered greatly, and was rapidly sinking. Andrew, whenever the party stopped, acted the part of a true Christian, and was by his side, endeavouring to console and cheer him with the blessed promises of the gospel. What other comfort could he have afforded? The old man felt its unspeakable value, and after his voice had lost the power of utterance, holding Andrew’s hand, he signed to him to stoop down and speak them in his ear, and so he died,—with a peaceful expression in his countenance, which told of the sure and certain hope he had gone to realise. Andrew and the carpenter proposed carrying on the captain’s body to bury it on shore, but the rest objected, as causing them unnecessary labour. A snow tomb was therefore built, in which the old man’s body was placed, and there they left him, out on that wild frozen ocean, where many of England’s bravest sons rest from their toils. Happy are those who have died as he died, trusting in the Lord. The men were too much engrossed with their own sufferings to mourn his loss, but few failed, when the next morning they started on their journey, to cast a glance at the tomb. “Poor old man, he is better off than we are,” was the expression uttered by most of them.The fatigue of dragging the sledges over the rough ice was now so great, that some of the men purposed leaving their tents and the remainder of their fuel behind, and the officers had much difficulty in making them see the folly of such a proceeding. As they advanced, not only large hummocks, but vast icebergs became numerous, among which they were frequently enveloped, and many a circuit had to be made to avoid them.The day after the captain’s death it began to snow heavily. The sledges were as usual ahead, still Andrew and his party managed to proceed with the boat. The snow-storm increasing in density, they at length lost sight of their companions. For some time they followed up their tracks, but these were gradually obliterated by the falling snow. Still they went on, till they found themselves at the base of an iceberg, but not a trace was visible to show whether the party ahead had made their way round by the north or south end. As any delay would have increased the difficulty of overtaking them, they pushed on, taking a southerly direction.Having doubled the berg, they saw a clear space before them, but though the snow had ceased, the sledge parties were nowhere visible.The captain’s rifle had been saved. Andrew fired it in the hopes that the signal might be heard, but no reply came to their listening ears. Once more they went on, but their progress was slow and tedious.
Archy was awakened by hearing one of the officers, who had gone out of the tent, exclaim, “Why, what have become of the boats?” The rest of the inmates of the tents were quickly on foot. They looked around. Far away in the distance two dark spots could be seen on the ice. Andrew and several others ran to the tent of the mutineers—it was empty. The fire had burnt a hole in the ice and disappeared. Had it not been for those objects far off they might have supposed that the sleepers had gone in with it and been drowned. The provisions were next examined—the packages prepared for travelling had greatly diminished. Several, indignant at being thus deserted, proposed setting off in pursuit of the fugitives.
“They have fire-arms with them, and you will not get them to come back, lads,” said the captain, who had come out of his tent.
In spite of his warnings, and the advice of Andrew, who urged that it was better to let them go, a number of men, and two of the officers, started away, vowing that they would bring back the mutineers, and punish them for their treachery.
At first, the party thus deserted seemed inclined to give way to despair, and Archy more than ever regretted that he had not warned his friends of the intended treachery.
“Come along, lads, to the wreck,” exclaimed Andrew. “Perhaps we may find another boat, which we may be able to repair, and some more provisions to replace those carried off.”
Thus appealed to, the carpenter, with several men, set off with Andrew to the wreck, Archy accompanying his friend. After climbing over a number of huge masses of ice, they made their way to the opposite floe, which was now firmly united to the one it had struck. Here they found a quantity of the wreck scattered about, as well as several casks of meat and biscuits, and wedged between two slabs, the smallest boat, which had hung at the stern. The carpenter, on examining her, expressed his hopes that by fastening canvas round her, he could make her float sufficiently to enable them to pass from one floe to another, should they meet any open channels in their course. This discovery raised their spirits. The party immediately hastened back to their companions with the news. It was agreed that they should at once move across to the floe, with the tents and provisions, and forming a new encampment, go on with the work of preparing the sledges. Frequently as they went backwards and forwards, they looked out for the return of the party who had gone in pursuit of the mutineers. The latter had got far out of sight before they could have been overtaken. What had become of the pursuers no one could say. Some supposed that the two parties had united and gone on together, while others fancied that they had fought, and that those who had been defeated had been left alone on the ice, while the victors had pushed on with the boats.
The whole day was occupied in moving to the new encampment, and it was nearly dark before their tents were erected and other preparations made for passing the night. The wind had latterly increased greatly, and clouds had been collecting to the north. Scarcely had they got under shelter when the snow began to fall heavily, and the sharp wind swept across the icy plain with terrific force.
“Archy, we may be thankful that we are not with those poor fellows who deserted us,” observed Andrew as they sat together round the fire in their tent. “It will be a mercy if any of them escape even if they reached the open water before nightfall, and it’s my opinion that they will not have done that.”
“They deserve their fate, whatever it may be,” growled out one of the men.
“Ah, friend, we all deserve far more than we receive,” said Andrew. “If God was to treat us according to our merits, the best of us could only look for punishment. Let us pray that He will have mercy on them as well as on us. Oh, mates, I wish you could all understand the great love which God has for us poor sinners. We exposed ourselves of our own free choice to the danger and hardship we have to endure, but He in His mercy offers us free salvation and eternal happiness for our souls. He gave Jesus Christ to suffer instead of us, and it’s our own fault if we do not accept His precious gift. All He asks us to do is to trust to His love, and believe that Jesus died for us and that His blood washes away all our sins.”
Several of Andrew’s companions listened with deep earnestness to his words, and on that bleak floe, and amid those arctic snows, believed to the salvation of their souls.
All night long the wind swept by them, the snow fell faster and faster, but they heeded not the tempest. A bright light had burst upon them, and they could look forward with hope to the future, trusting to that God of love and mercy whom they had hitherto only known as a stern and severe judge.
When morning broke all hands set to work to clear away the snow, which had covered up the boat and everything left outside the tents. The wind, however, had ceased, and they were able to go on with their labours, and by the evening the sledges were completed and the boat prepared and placed on runners. They were then loaded, that the party might be ready to start the following morning on their journey. Twice during the day, Andrew with several of the other men had gone over to the old encampment to ascertain if any of those who had deserted them had come back. They cast their eyes in vain over the wide snow-covered plain,—not a trace of a human being could be seen. It was too probable that all had perished. More than half the ship’s company had thus been lost.
The night was passed in comparative comfort. They had well-formed tents, abundance of bedding, and ample fires. All knew that in future the case would be very different. The sledges were chiefly loaded with provisions. They were obliged to reduce their tents to the smallest possible size, and they could carry but a limited supply of fuel. There were five sledges in all, each drawn by four men, while six men were harnessed to the boat, in which the old captain, who was unable to walk, was placed. Andrew joined the latter party, and Archy, on account of his youth, was excused from dragging a sledge,—he, however, carried his blankets and some provisions on his back, each man being also loaded in the same way. The snow having partially melted under the still hot rays of the sun, had again frozen, and had filled up all inequalities in the ice. This enabled the party to drag the sledges along during the first day without difficulty. They had, however, to make frequent circuits to avoid the hummocks, which in some places were very numerous. They calculated by nightfall that they had advanced nearly twelve miles on their journey towards the coast. The uneven appearance of the ice beyond them, interspersed in many places with huge icebergs, warned them that in future they could not hope to advance so rapidly.
Hitherto they had not suffered much from cold, but that night, as they lay in their tents with the small fires which their limited supply of fuel allowed them to keep up, they were nearly frozen. Andrew several times remembering the advantage he had before gained from taking exercise, got up and ran about to warm himself. Those who followed his example awoke refreshed and fit for work, whereas those who had remained quiet all the night, found their limbs stiff and their feet and hands frozen, and it was not till after, with the help of their companions, they had moved about and undergone great pain, that they were able to proceed. Some, indeed, had suffered so much, that they entreated to be left to die rather than undergo the hardships they would have to endure. Andrew urged them to arouse themselves.
“It is our duty, lads, to straggle on as long as we can. God may think fit to try us, but let us trust in Him and He may find a way for us at last to escape, though we are too blind to see it,” he observed.
His exhortations produced a good effect, and once more they proceeded on their journey. The old captain had suffered the most, and it seemed very probable that he would be unable to hold out many days longer. Andrew seeing his condition, frequently spoke to him, and though hitherto he had turned scornfully away, he now willingly listened to the words the faithful Christian uttered.
“Oh!” he exclaimed at length, “I wish that I had heard you before. It is too late now, I have been a terrible sinner, God can never pardon so bad a man as I am.”
“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Andrew, “Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. He saved the thief on the cross, He saved the jailor at Philippi. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. He says, ‘Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson they shall be as wool.’”
This was said while they were stopping to take their mid-day meal.
The old captain raised himself up and grasped Andrew’s hand.
“Do you really speak the truth to me?” he exclaimed.
“I repeat what God says, sir, and He cannot lie,” answered Andrew. “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.”
“I do, I do,” cried the old man. “But oh! what would I now give had I known this in my youth. What years of wickedness and misery it would have saved me.”
“Ah, sir! there are thousands upon thousands who may say that,” replied Andrew. “Archy, you hear the captain’s words. Don’t forget them, boy. If God in His mercy allows you to return home in safety, repeat them to your young companions, and urge them to ‘seek the Lord while He may be found.’ You may thus render them a service for which they will have cause to thank you through eternity.”
“I will try,” said Archy humbly, “but it is difficult to speak to others.”
“Pray for the aid of God’s Holy Spirit, and He will enable you to do it,” said Andrew.
“I will try,” repeated Archy, for he had discovered his own weakness. Through that discovery alone can strength be obtained.
The shipwrecked party again pushed on, the party keeping ahead. Some of the men had begun to complain that the boat detained them. They supposed that the ice was attached throughout to the mainland, and believed that they could do without her. The captain tried to persuade them that they were mistaken, but they had lost their respect for him, and declared that they knew better. Andrew thought the captain was right, and entreated them to listen to his advice. Their replies showed that they were bent on pushing on. The worthy carpenter, James Foubister by name, also a Shetlander, sided with Andrew, and promised not to desert the old captain. Their example influenced most of the other men attached to the boat, who agreed, should the rest of the party do as they proposed, to remain with them. By exerting themselves to the utmost they overtook the sledge parties soon after they had encamped. Andrew again spoke earnestly to his companions, pointing out to them the danger they would ran by separating, and he hoped at length that they had abandoned their design.
The next day they went on as before. The cold was increasing, and except when they were in active exercise, they felt it severely. The old captain especially, from being unable to move, suffered greatly, and was rapidly sinking. Andrew, whenever the party stopped, acted the part of a true Christian, and was by his side, endeavouring to console and cheer him with the blessed promises of the gospel. What other comfort could he have afforded? The old man felt its unspeakable value, and after his voice had lost the power of utterance, holding Andrew’s hand, he signed to him to stoop down and speak them in his ear, and so he died,—with a peaceful expression in his countenance, which told of the sure and certain hope he had gone to realise. Andrew and the carpenter proposed carrying on the captain’s body to bury it on shore, but the rest objected, as causing them unnecessary labour. A snow tomb was therefore built, in which the old man’s body was placed, and there they left him, out on that wild frozen ocean, where many of England’s bravest sons rest from their toils. Happy are those who have died as he died, trusting in the Lord. The men were too much engrossed with their own sufferings to mourn his loss, but few failed, when the next morning they started on their journey, to cast a glance at the tomb. “Poor old man, he is better off than we are,” was the expression uttered by most of them.
The fatigue of dragging the sledges over the rough ice was now so great, that some of the men purposed leaving their tents and the remainder of their fuel behind, and the officers had much difficulty in making them see the folly of such a proceeding. As they advanced, not only large hummocks, but vast icebergs became numerous, among which they were frequently enveloped, and many a circuit had to be made to avoid them.
The day after the captain’s death it began to snow heavily. The sledges were as usual ahead, still Andrew and his party managed to proceed with the boat. The snow-storm increasing in density, they at length lost sight of their companions. For some time they followed up their tracks, but these were gradually obliterated by the falling snow. Still they went on, till they found themselves at the base of an iceberg, but not a trace was visible to show whether the party ahead had made their way round by the north or south end. As any delay would have increased the difficulty of overtaking them, they pushed on, taking a southerly direction.
Having doubled the berg, they saw a clear space before them, but though the snow had ceased, the sledge parties were nowhere visible.
The captain’s rifle had been saved. Andrew fired it in the hopes that the signal might be heard, but no reply came to their listening ears. Once more they went on, but their progress was slow and tedious.
Chapter Eight.Proceeding on against many difficulties.—Archy and his companions at last discover land ahead, and camp in a snow-hut.—At daybreak, seeing no traces of the mutineers, they push on, and arrive at the edge of the floe. Cross a channel and getting on an opposite floe, build a snow-hut; but the water rising, leave it, and build another, which also is washed away. Build a third, and are awoke by a bear.—Two men frost bitten are left behind.As the sun was about to set, a shout escaped Archy’s lips. “Land, land!” he cried out. All gazed eagerly in the direction to which he pointed. There appeared a range of snowy mountains far higher than any icebergs. They were clear and well defined, and Andrew and Foubister declared that they could not be, as some of the rest supposed, a bank of clouds. They remained visible till the sun sunk beneath the horizon. The discovery somewhat cheered their spirits, but still many days must elapse before they could reach the shore, and even when there, no inhabitants might be found to assist them, or food to enable them to exist during the coming winter. Their present condition indeed was very trying. The tents were on the sledges, and they had only sufficient fuel in the boat to keep a fire alight for one night; while their provisions, with the utmost economy, would last them but a fortnight or three weeks at the furthest.“If the cold goes on increasing, we shall be frozen to death before the morning,” exclaimed several of the men.“Not so, mates,” said Andrew. “I have seen the natives build a snow-hut in the course of an hour, and have been as warm as I could wish within it during the hardest frost. They call it an igloo, and they fashion it much after the way the seals make their houses, so that it is well suited to the climate. We may depend on that, as God himself taught the seals. Now turn to and clear a space down to the ice, while the carpenter and I saw out some blocks of snow.” His companions followed Andrew’s directions; and while Foubister sawed out the blocks, which were about three feet long, and half as wide, he placed them in a circle on the space which had been cleared. He then put on another tier, gradually sloping inwards till a dome was formed, and lastly the keystone of the arch was dropped into its place. Archy, who was helping Andrew, remained with him inside, and were thus completely walled in. The carpenter, with his saw, then cut a hole to serve as a doorway, on the lee side of the hut.“We have yet got to form a bed and fire-places. Hand in more blocks, mates,” said Andrew.With these he and Archy quickly built up a raised place on either side of the hut, with a circular one in the centre. Some of the provisions, with a portion of the fuel, and all the bedding and blankets, were then brought inside, when Andrew stopped up the doorway with some blocks of snow, which he had retained for the purpose.“Now, mates,” he said, “you will soon see that we can be warm enough, but we must keep up as small a fire as can be made to burn. Look here now; this log will last us all night if we chop it into chips, and just put on three or four at a time.”Andrew’s plan was found to answer perfectly. The fire was sufficient to melt the snow in a saucepan, and to enable them to enjoy some hot tea, and the hut soon became so warm that they were glad to throw off their great coats. Their only regret was that Andrew had not thought before of building a snow-hut.“Better late than never. It will not be the last by many that we shall have to build,” he answered.They were all so comfortable that Andrew had great difficulty in rousing them in the morning to encounter the biting wind blowing across the floe. Having enjoyed a warm breakfast, and put on their outer clothing, they cut their way out of their burrow, and once more proceeded eastward. They did not fail to look out for their companions, but not a moving object was to be discerned in any direction across the wide ice-field.After travelling all day, they were convinced that they saw the land ahead, though it appeared no nearer than before.“May be it will not appear nearer to-morrow or next day,” said Andrew. “But that must not disappoint us. It will be nearer notwithstanding. That we know for a certainty, and if we persevere we shall reach it at last.”As they advanced, several cracks and broad fissures were found in the ice, and in one place there was a wide pool or lake only thinly covered over, to avoid which they had to make a circuit.“We are not far off the open water, mates,” said Andrew, “and we may be thankful that we have the boat, though I fear our poor shipmates will be in a sad plight.”Making their way onwards, the ice being tolerably smooth, they arrived sooner than Andrew had expected at the edge of the floe. The channel which divided it from the opposite floe was upwards of a couple of miles wide, a long distance to traverse in their battered boat. The wind had gone down, and the sea was tolerably calm, it was therefore important to cross while it remained so. Andrew, however, was very unwilling to cross without waiting for their missing shipmates.“Just think, mates, how we should feel if we had been with the sledges had they crossed and left us to our fate on the floe?”“But they deserted us, and we may lose our lives if we wait for them,” argued the other men.At last Andrew persuaded them to remain, while he and Archy set off to climb to the top of a small iceberg, a little way to the north, from whence they hoped to obtain a view over a considerable portion of the floe. They lost no time in starting, but the distance was much greater than they had expected.“It seems to me as if the iceberg were moving away from us,” exclaimed Archy. “We have been walking on for the last half hour, and appear no nearer.”“The berg is a good deal larger than I had fancied,” answered Andrew. “But never fear, we shall get up to it at last, and if we can manage to climb to the top, we shall have a wider view over the plain, and a better chance of seeing the poor fellows. It goes to my heart to leave them to perish, and yet perish they must if they do not soon reach the mainland. We must forget that they intended to desert us, and even if they did, it is our duty to return good for evil, so come along Archy.”The iceberg was at length gained. Then came the difficulty of climbing to the top. After walking nearly round it, they found a portion melted and broken by the summer sun which afforded them footing. With the aid of a boat-hook, and a coil of rope which Andrew had brought, they at last reached one of the highest points. Hence they could see the edge of the floe extending for a considerable way to the north, while their eyes ranged over a wide extent of level ice, but all was one white waste. Not the smallest dark spot could be seen upon it.“I am afraid, Archy, we must give them up,” sighed Andrew. “We should risk the loss of our own lives if we were longer to wait for them.”Descending the iceberg, Andrew and Archy made their way back to the boat. The boat was at once launched, and though she leaked slightly, one hand bailing could keep her free. They all therefore, embarked, and towing the runners, they made their way across to the floe. As they found themselves once more gliding smoothly over the water, their spirits rose, and some were anxious to try and make their way south in the boat. Andrew and the carpenter, however, strongly objected to doing this.“The ice may close upon us, and we may run short of provisions long before we can reach the Danish settlements,” he observed. “Let us get hold of the land first.”It was nearly dark by the time they reached the edge of the opposite ice, and having unloaded their boat, they hauled her up, and proceeded on to a hummock at a little distance. Here, without loss of time, they build an igloo in which to shelter themselves for the night.The first part passed quietly away, but about midnight Archy was awoke by the sound of the crashing of ice, and a loud dashing of waves. He aroused his companions, they listened for a few seconds.“The sea is breaking up the ice close to us,” exclaimed Andrew. “Put on your clothes, lads, or we may be drowned in our den.”In another minute the whole party made their way out of the hut, carrying their bedding under their arms. The sea was already close up to the stern of the boat. Fortunately she had been placed on the runners. They had just time to seize her, and drag her along, before the ice, on which she had been resting, gave way. On they went as fast as they could drag the boat, but even then it seemed doubtful whether they could escape from the fast following sea. Their hut and the hummock, near which it had been built, quickly disappeared. The wind blew with fearful violence; the ice beneath their feet rose and fell as they passed over it. Whenever they halted, the crashing ice behind them warned them to push on again. At last a berg in the floe appeared ahead, they made their way towards it, hoping that they might obtain shelter under its lee till the gale had ceased. The men were so fatigued that they would have thrown themselves down under shelter of the boat to rest had not Andrew persuaded them to build another igloo. Here they once more sought shelter, hoping to remain undisturbed for the remainder of the night. Andrew and Foubister, however, agreed to keep watch and watch, and Archy begged to take his turn.“No, no,” said Andrew, “you were the means of saving our lives. You want sleep more than we do.”Two hours passed away, when, as Andrew listened, he heard again the same terrific sound which had before awakened them. Once more all were aroused, and hastening out as before, they found the sea still encroaching on them. Complaining bitterly of their hard fate, the men dragged on their boat, still the sea pursued them. Scarcely had they got a hundred yards from the berg beneath which they had taken shelter, when it crashed away through the broken ice. No one now felt inclined to stop. The raging sea tore up the ice behind them, the vast slabs crashing together with a terrific sound, urging them to greater speed.On they went till day dawned, when they found themselves near a low iceberg. They now declared that they could go no further, and Andrew and Foubister agreed, that even should the ice overtake them, they might find refuge on the slope of the berg, up which they could without difficulty haul the boat. Having placed her, as they hoped, in safety, they built another snow-hut, where they proposed remaining till the storm had ceased. As they had now become expert architects, they were not long in constructing the igloo, and all thankfully crept in to recruit their strength. Even Andrew felt that he could not have held out much longer.The crashing sounds of the breaking ice had ceased, and no longer fearing having again to take to flight, the whole party fell asleep. They had not closed the doorway, as was their custom at night, on account of the heat which was soon generated in so confined a space. Archy was the first to awake, as he did so he heard a scraping sound, and directly afterwards he caught sight of the white snout of a huge animal poked in at the opening. A few smouldering chips alone remained of the fire in the centre of the hut. His first impulse was to seize one and throw it at the intruder, shouting out to his companions at the same time. They quickly sprung to their feet. The carpenter seized an axe.“A bear, a bear,” he cried out, as he made a blow at the nose of the animal, who, uttering fierce growls, quickly beat a retreat.They all rushed out, when the bear was seen at a short distance sitting on his haunches examining its wounded nose. Andrew hurried to the boat. Happily the bear had not attacked their provisions. The rifle was loaded, his only fear was that the bear would make off before he could get near enough to wound it mortally. The creature was, however, evidently meditating an attack. It advanced, he fired, and it rolled over on the snow. His companions uttered a shout of joy, as they had no longer any fear of suffering for want of food for some time to come. The bear was cut up, and returning to their hut, they were soon employed in cooking steaks over their rekindled fire.“I suspect those fellows never venture far from land,” observed Andrew; “so we may now feel pretty sure, mates, that we shall be able to reach it without having another channel to cross.”The whole party were, however, too much knocked up to make another move during that day, and even Andrew and Foubister, who were most anxious to proceed on their journey, consented to remain till the following morning. The day and night were passed between sleeping and eating, for as soon as the men woke up, they relighted their fire and cooked more bear’s steaks, in spite of Andrew’s warnings that they would soon exhaust all their fuel.“Never fear, old man,” was the answer, “we shall get enough when we reach the shore, and let us enjoy ourselves while we can. The natives manage to live, why should not we?”“The natives know how to catch the seal and the walrus, and unless we can prove ourselves as good hunters as they are, we may chance to starve,” answered Andrew.His warnings, however, had no effect, and when the next morning they came to examine the contents of the boat, they found they had only sufficient fuel to last them another night.Once more they were on their journey. The carcase of the bear added considerably to their load, the ice too was rough and broken, and they made but slow progress. The land was seen clearly ahead, but after toiling all day it seemed almost as far off as when they started. The days too were becoming shorter and shorter, while the cold rapidly increased, and once more they were compelled to encamp on the open floe. That night the remainder of their fuel was consumed. Two of the men had been complaining during the day of pains in their feet, and when they pulled off their boots, to their dismay they discovered that they were perfectly black. In vain their companions rubbed them to restore the circulation. Their groans were piteous to hear, and when the morning came they were utterly unable to rise. Andrew proposed to place them in the boat, and to drag them along to the shore. When, however, morning came, the ice ahead appeared even rougher than that which they had passed over on the previous day, and in spite of his desire to preserve their lives, it was found that with their diminished strength this would be impossible. It was therefore agreed that the poor fellows should be left in the hut, and that should any Esquimaux be met with, they should be sent with their sledges and dogs to their relief. With sad hearts the rest of the party closed the hut, which they felt would too probably prove the tomb of their companions.
As the sun was about to set, a shout escaped Archy’s lips. “Land, land!” he cried out. All gazed eagerly in the direction to which he pointed. There appeared a range of snowy mountains far higher than any icebergs. They were clear and well defined, and Andrew and Foubister declared that they could not be, as some of the rest supposed, a bank of clouds. They remained visible till the sun sunk beneath the horizon. The discovery somewhat cheered their spirits, but still many days must elapse before they could reach the shore, and even when there, no inhabitants might be found to assist them, or food to enable them to exist during the coming winter. Their present condition indeed was very trying. The tents were on the sledges, and they had only sufficient fuel in the boat to keep a fire alight for one night; while their provisions, with the utmost economy, would last them but a fortnight or three weeks at the furthest.
“If the cold goes on increasing, we shall be frozen to death before the morning,” exclaimed several of the men.
“Not so, mates,” said Andrew. “I have seen the natives build a snow-hut in the course of an hour, and have been as warm as I could wish within it during the hardest frost. They call it an igloo, and they fashion it much after the way the seals make their houses, so that it is well suited to the climate. We may depend on that, as God himself taught the seals. Now turn to and clear a space down to the ice, while the carpenter and I saw out some blocks of snow.” His companions followed Andrew’s directions; and while Foubister sawed out the blocks, which were about three feet long, and half as wide, he placed them in a circle on the space which had been cleared. He then put on another tier, gradually sloping inwards till a dome was formed, and lastly the keystone of the arch was dropped into its place. Archy, who was helping Andrew, remained with him inside, and were thus completely walled in. The carpenter, with his saw, then cut a hole to serve as a doorway, on the lee side of the hut.
“We have yet got to form a bed and fire-places. Hand in more blocks, mates,” said Andrew.
With these he and Archy quickly built up a raised place on either side of the hut, with a circular one in the centre. Some of the provisions, with a portion of the fuel, and all the bedding and blankets, were then brought inside, when Andrew stopped up the doorway with some blocks of snow, which he had retained for the purpose.
“Now, mates,” he said, “you will soon see that we can be warm enough, but we must keep up as small a fire as can be made to burn. Look here now; this log will last us all night if we chop it into chips, and just put on three or four at a time.”
Andrew’s plan was found to answer perfectly. The fire was sufficient to melt the snow in a saucepan, and to enable them to enjoy some hot tea, and the hut soon became so warm that they were glad to throw off their great coats. Their only regret was that Andrew had not thought before of building a snow-hut.
“Better late than never. It will not be the last by many that we shall have to build,” he answered.
They were all so comfortable that Andrew had great difficulty in rousing them in the morning to encounter the biting wind blowing across the floe. Having enjoyed a warm breakfast, and put on their outer clothing, they cut their way out of their burrow, and once more proceeded eastward. They did not fail to look out for their companions, but not a moving object was to be discerned in any direction across the wide ice-field.
After travelling all day, they were convinced that they saw the land ahead, though it appeared no nearer than before.
“May be it will not appear nearer to-morrow or next day,” said Andrew. “But that must not disappoint us. It will be nearer notwithstanding. That we know for a certainty, and if we persevere we shall reach it at last.”
As they advanced, several cracks and broad fissures were found in the ice, and in one place there was a wide pool or lake only thinly covered over, to avoid which they had to make a circuit.
“We are not far off the open water, mates,” said Andrew, “and we may be thankful that we have the boat, though I fear our poor shipmates will be in a sad plight.”
Making their way onwards, the ice being tolerably smooth, they arrived sooner than Andrew had expected at the edge of the floe. The channel which divided it from the opposite floe was upwards of a couple of miles wide, a long distance to traverse in their battered boat. The wind had gone down, and the sea was tolerably calm, it was therefore important to cross while it remained so. Andrew, however, was very unwilling to cross without waiting for their missing shipmates.
“Just think, mates, how we should feel if we had been with the sledges had they crossed and left us to our fate on the floe?”
“But they deserted us, and we may lose our lives if we wait for them,” argued the other men.
At last Andrew persuaded them to remain, while he and Archy set off to climb to the top of a small iceberg, a little way to the north, from whence they hoped to obtain a view over a considerable portion of the floe. They lost no time in starting, but the distance was much greater than they had expected.
“It seems to me as if the iceberg were moving away from us,” exclaimed Archy. “We have been walking on for the last half hour, and appear no nearer.”
“The berg is a good deal larger than I had fancied,” answered Andrew. “But never fear, we shall get up to it at last, and if we can manage to climb to the top, we shall have a wider view over the plain, and a better chance of seeing the poor fellows. It goes to my heart to leave them to perish, and yet perish they must if they do not soon reach the mainland. We must forget that they intended to desert us, and even if they did, it is our duty to return good for evil, so come along Archy.”
The iceberg was at length gained. Then came the difficulty of climbing to the top. After walking nearly round it, they found a portion melted and broken by the summer sun which afforded them footing. With the aid of a boat-hook, and a coil of rope which Andrew had brought, they at last reached one of the highest points. Hence they could see the edge of the floe extending for a considerable way to the north, while their eyes ranged over a wide extent of level ice, but all was one white waste. Not the smallest dark spot could be seen upon it.
“I am afraid, Archy, we must give them up,” sighed Andrew. “We should risk the loss of our own lives if we were longer to wait for them.”
Descending the iceberg, Andrew and Archy made their way back to the boat. The boat was at once launched, and though she leaked slightly, one hand bailing could keep her free. They all therefore, embarked, and towing the runners, they made their way across to the floe. As they found themselves once more gliding smoothly over the water, their spirits rose, and some were anxious to try and make their way south in the boat. Andrew and the carpenter, however, strongly objected to doing this.
“The ice may close upon us, and we may run short of provisions long before we can reach the Danish settlements,” he observed. “Let us get hold of the land first.”
It was nearly dark by the time they reached the edge of the opposite ice, and having unloaded their boat, they hauled her up, and proceeded on to a hummock at a little distance. Here, without loss of time, they build an igloo in which to shelter themselves for the night.
The first part passed quietly away, but about midnight Archy was awoke by the sound of the crashing of ice, and a loud dashing of waves. He aroused his companions, they listened for a few seconds.
“The sea is breaking up the ice close to us,” exclaimed Andrew. “Put on your clothes, lads, or we may be drowned in our den.”
In another minute the whole party made their way out of the hut, carrying their bedding under their arms. The sea was already close up to the stern of the boat. Fortunately she had been placed on the runners. They had just time to seize her, and drag her along, before the ice, on which she had been resting, gave way. On they went as fast as they could drag the boat, but even then it seemed doubtful whether they could escape from the fast following sea. Their hut and the hummock, near which it had been built, quickly disappeared. The wind blew with fearful violence; the ice beneath their feet rose and fell as they passed over it. Whenever they halted, the crashing ice behind them warned them to push on again. At last a berg in the floe appeared ahead, they made their way towards it, hoping that they might obtain shelter under its lee till the gale had ceased. The men were so fatigued that they would have thrown themselves down under shelter of the boat to rest had not Andrew persuaded them to build another igloo. Here they once more sought shelter, hoping to remain undisturbed for the remainder of the night. Andrew and Foubister, however, agreed to keep watch and watch, and Archy begged to take his turn.
“No, no,” said Andrew, “you were the means of saving our lives. You want sleep more than we do.”
Two hours passed away, when, as Andrew listened, he heard again the same terrific sound which had before awakened them. Once more all were aroused, and hastening out as before, they found the sea still encroaching on them. Complaining bitterly of their hard fate, the men dragged on their boat, still the sea pursued them. Scarcely had they got a hundred yards from the berg beneath which they had taken shelter, when it crashed away through the broken ice. No one now felt inclined to stop. The raging sea tore up the ice behind them, the vast slabs crashing together with a terrific sound, urging them to greater speed.
On they went till day dawned, when they found themselves near a low iceberg. They now declared that they could go no further, and Andrew and Foubister agreed, that even should the ice overtake them, they might find refuge on the slope of the berg, up which they could without difficulty haul the boat. Having placed her, as they hoped, in safety, they built another snow-hut, where they proposed remaining till the storm had ceased. As they had now become expert architects, they were not long in constructing the igloo, and all thankfully crept in to recruit their strength. Even Andrew felt that he could not have held out much longer.
The crashing sounds of the breaking ice had ceased, and no longer fearing having again to take to flight, the whole party fell asleep. They had not closed the doorway, as was their custom at night, on account of the heat which was soon generated in so confined a space. Archy was the first to awake, as he did so he heard a scraping sound, and directly afterwards he caught sight of the white snout of a huge animal poked in at the opening. A few smouldering chips alone remained of the fire in the centre of the hut. His first impulse was to seize one and throw it at the intruder, shouting out to his companions at the same time. They quickly sprung to their feet. The carpenter seized an axe.
“A bear, a bear,” he cried out, as he made a blow at the nose of the animal, who, uttering fierce growls, quickly beat a retreat.
They all rushed out, when the bear was seen at a short distance sitting on his haunches examining its wounded nose. Andrew hurried to the boat. Happily the bear had not attacked their provisions. The rifle was loaded, his only fear was that the bear would make off before he could get near enough to wound it mortally. The creature was, however, evidently meditating an attack. It advanced, he fired, and it rolled over on the snow. His companions uttered a shout of joy, as they had no longer any fear of suffering for want of food for some time to come. The bear was cut up, and returning to their hut, they were soon employed in cooking steaks over their rekindled fire.
“I suspect those fellows never venture far from land,” observed Andrew; “so we may now feel pretty sure, mates, that we shall be able to reach it without having another channel to cross.”
The whole party were, however, too much knocked up to make another move during that day, and even Andrew and Foubister, who were most anxious to proceed on their journey, consented to remain till the following morning. The day and night were passed between sleeping and eating, for as soon as the men woke up, they relighted their fire and cooked more bear’s steaks, in spite of Andrew’s warnings that they would soon exhaust all their fuel.
“Never fear, old man,” was the answer, “we shall get enough when we reach the shore, and let us enjoy ourselves while we can. The natives manage to live, why should not we?”
“The natives know how to catch the seal and the walrus, and unless we can prove ourselves as good hunters as they are, we may chance to starve,” answered Andrew.
His warnings, however, had no effect, and when the next morning they came to examine the contents of the boat, they found they had only sufficient fuel to last them another night.
Once more they were on their journey. The carcase of the bear added considerably to their load, the ice too was rough and broken, and they made but slow progress. The land was seen clearly ahead, but after toiling all day it seemed almost as far off as when they started. The days too were becoming shorter and shorter, while the cold rapidly increased, and once more they were compelled to encamp on the open floe. That night the remainder of their fuel was consumed. Two of the men had been complaining during the day of pains in their feet, and when they pulled off their boots, to their dismay they discovered that they were perfectly black. In vain their companions rubbed them to restore the circulation. Their groans were piteous to hear, and when the morning came they were utterly unable to rise. Andrew proposed to place them in the boat, and to drag them along to the shore. When, however, morning came, the ice ahead appeared even rougher than that which they had passed over on the previous day, and in spite of his desire to preserve their lives, it was found that with their diminished strength this would be impossible. It was therefore agreed that the poor fellows should be left in the hut, and that should any Esquimaux be met with, they should be sent with their sledges and dogs to their relief. With sad hearts the rest of the party closed the hut, which they felt would too probably prove the tomb of their companions.