Now that the excitement was over and the boys had a chance to look about, they searched the sea for Mr. Kemp. But nowhere was he to be seen. Then their glance turned towards the schooner, and Tom uttered a frightened cry.
“TheNarwhal’s gone!”
Cap’n Pem turned from where he was directing the men as they labored to get a fluke chain about the dead whale’s tail, shaded his eyes and swept a swift glance around the horizon. “Reckon she are,” he remarked quite undisturbed. “Get a waif up, Nate,” he continued, addressing the boat steerer. “Swan if I know whar she be. An’ looks like Kemp’s hull down, too.”
“But what will we do?” cried Jim. “How can we get to theNarwhal?”
“Won’t,” replied the old whaleman, once more bending to his work. “Let the schooner come tous. Reckon the skipper hain’t los’ track o’ us.”
“Ye see,” explained the boat steerer as he fastened a red flag to the mast and, with two of the men to help him, stepped the spar, “folks ’board the schooner can see us a heap farther than we kin see them. They’ll be havin’ a lookout to the to’gallan’ crosstrees an’ keep track o’ where we be.”
“Oh, I understand,” said Tom. “But say, Nate, why did you go for the head of that whale? When we were on theHectorthey were always careful to go on them from the tail end.”
“Them was sparm whales,” replied the boat steerer. “A sparm whale kin see for’rard but not aft, an’ a right whale or bowhead kin see aft an’ not for’rard. ’Sides, a sparm fights mos’ly with his jaw an’ a right or a bowhead fights with his flukes. ‘Bewar’ o’ a sparm’s jaws an’ a right whale’s flukes,’ is a ol’ whalin’ motter.”
“But what’s become of Mr. Kemp, do you suppose?” queried Jim. “Do you think anything’s happened to him?”
“Naw, I guess he’s jus’ been towed out o’ sight,” declared Nate. “Anyhow it’s every man for hisself a-goin’ arter whales. Reckon the Old Man kin see him.”
The fluke chain was now fast about the whale’s“small,” as the portion of the creature’s body near the tail is called, and the boat, fastened to it by the stout hemp line, rode as steadily and as easily as though moored to an island. The immense carcass formed a lee, and the oil oozing from his wounds, smoothed the water, making a broad “slick.”
“Purty good-sized critter,” commented Cap’n Pem, as he seated himself and lit his pipe. “Bet ye he’ll turn a hundred bar’ls, an’ nigh half a ton o’ bone. Put up a right smart fight though—blowed if he didn’t. Waall, boys, how did ye like the fun?”
“Fine, now it’s over,” laughed Jim. “But I admit I wished I was on theNarwhala good many times while that old whale was thrashing around with his flukes.”
“Gosh, but he did come near smashing us!” cried Tom. “Just the same, I’m glad we were here, and that the first time we went in on a whale he was a fighter. Say, won’t the boys back home open their eyes when we tell them about this?”
“Oh, there’s theNarwhal!” exclaimed Jim, who had stood up and was gazing about. “And not a bit where I expected her to be.”
“Waall, if ye could ha’ kep’ track o’ which way was which, ye’d ’a been a heap sight better’n I be at keepin’ my bearin’s,” chuckled Cap’n Pem. “Byheck, fer a spell I actooaly did think that there ol’ whale was a-goin’ fer to git the best on us.”
“Would have if ye hadn’t a-fetched him as we run over his back,” declared one of the men. “By glory, Cap’n, that was some stunt ye pulled off. But say, it mos’ made me split, a-seein’ of ye a-diggin’ that lance into the water like as if ye was a-spearin’ eels.”
“Shucks, that weren’t nothin’,” declared Cap’n Pem. “I don’ calc’late to miss a chanct even if the dumb critter do sound jes when I’m a-gettin’ ready fer to lance him.”
“But he almost wrecked us!” exclaimed Tom. “If he’d come up a second sooner, he would have capsized the boat and we’d all have been drowned or smashed by his flukes.”
The old whaleman chuckled. “Waall, I reckon we mought ha’ been,” he admitted. “But we wasn’t. ’Sides, no whaleman never thinks o’ sech things. We wuz out fer to git this here whale, and it’s git him or git stove.”
“But why didn’t you use the bomb lance?” asked Jim. “You had a good chance.”
“Look here, son,” said the old man petulantly. “I was brung up along with a reg’lar iron an’ a reg’lar lance. These here new-fangled contraptionsmay be all right fer them as likes ’em, but give me the old fashion’ weepons every time. By gum, I want ter see whar I’m a-drivin’ o’ the lance at. ’Sides, any dumb-foozled lan’lubber could git whales by a settin’ off an’ a-shootin’ of ’em. They ain’t no sport in it.”
By now theNarwhalwas within a quarter of a mile of the boat. As her yards were swung and she was hove to, the men picked up their oars and headed for the schooner. As they drew alongside, Cap’n Pem shouted up to Captain Edwards and asked if they had seen the second officer’s boat.
“No, he was towed hull down,” replied the skipper. “But we can fetch him all right. Just stick a waif in that whale, get your boat aboard and we’ll run down to him.”
One of the men scrambled on to the whale’s body, and drove a sharp pointed iron bar bearing a flag at the end into the carcass. Then, casting loose the line to the fluke chain, the crew clambered on to the schooner and hoisted the boat to its davits.
“Well, boys, how did you like it?” asked Captain Edwards as Tom and Jim reached the deck. “Had a right pretty tussle—I was watchin’ you from aloft.”
“Fine!” declared Tom. “But wewerescaredsome of the time, and oh, we had a great joke on Cap’n Pem! The cat was in the boat and she had four kittens.”
The skipper roared. “Well, that must have broken the spell!” he exclaimed. “What did Pem say?”
“Same thing,” replied Jim, “but he added that if it hadn’t been for the cat we wouldn’t have had so much trouble.”
“Waall, I bet ye that’s so!” burst out the old whaleman. “An’ there’ll be other bad luck a-comin’ from the dumb critter.”
“B’ the powers!” exclaimed Mike who stood near. “’Tis a ol’ fool yez be. Shure, didn’t yez know a cat bein’ afther havin’ kits aboorrd a ship do be the foinest luck in the world? B’gorra ’tis four av thim yez is afther sayin’? Thin ’tis four whales yez should be afther gettin’.”
Instantly, as usual, the two one-legged old sailors began to argue, and the boys and the captain turned away to let them have it out. Presently, from the masthead, came a shout that the missing boat was sighted. Soon it was visible from the deck. But the boys, even with their glasses, could not distinguish a whale fast to Mr. Kemp’s boat.
“I wonder if they lost it,” said Jim. “Say,if they did, Cap’n Pem will swear it was the cat.”
But a moment later, Tom’s sharp eyes spied a tiny rag fluttering above the waves some distance from the second mate’s boat. “There’s the whale!” he shouted. “See, it’s got a waif on it.”
“You’re right,” agreed Jim. And then a moment later, “Gosh, Tom, is that another waif—over there to the west of the boat?”
Tom looked steadily for a moment. “Golly, it is!” he cried. “Oh, Captain Edwards, they’ve got two whales!”
“What?” cried the skipper hurrying to the boys and taking Tom’s glasses. “By the great red herring, you’re right!”
“Why in tarnation ain’t he fas’ to ’em?” cried Captain Pem, who had stopped his discussion with Mike at the boys’ announcement.
“Expect he was pullin’ for the ship and couldn’t tow ’em,” said the skipper.
A few minutes later they were within hailing distance. Then the schooner was hove to, and the boat drew alongside.
“See you had good luck, Mr. Kemp!” cried the Captain heartily. “Pem got a big bull too—put up purtiest tussle I ever seen—and that’s three bowheads in a afternoon! Guess Mike’s right aboutthose kittens, boys! Only need one more whale to make the four!”
Mr. Kemp grinned. “If you’ll jus’ run down to the east’ard a couple o’ miles, you’ll find t’other one,” he announced.
“What in thunder ye talkin’ ’bout?” cried Cap’n Pem, staring at the second mate as though he thought he had gone mad. “Ye don’t mean to stan’ there an’ say—oh, ’tain’t nat’ral!”
“True jus’ the same,” grinned Mr. Kemp. “I beat ye by two bowheads, Pem.”
“Shure, Oi knowed it,” commented Mike. “B’gorra, ’tis hopin’ the blessed cat’ll be afther havin’ o’ kittens iviry day, b’jabbers.”
Every one aboard the schooner was in high spirits over the phenomenal luck of getting four whales in one day, and as one after the other of the big carcasses were picked up and made fast by stout hemp lines, the men sang and laughed. Nate, the harpoonier, roared out the quaint song:
My father’s a hedger and ditcher,My mother does nothing but spin,While I hunt whales for my living,Good Lord, how the money comes in!
My father’s a hedger and ditcher,My mother does nothing but spin,While I hunt whales for my living,Good Lord, how the money comes in!
My father’s a hedger and ditcher,
My mother does nothing but spin,
While I hunt whales for my living,
Good Lord, how the money comes in!
And lustily all joined in the chorus, for thousandsof dollars had been won in the past few hours, and every member of theNarwhal’screw would share in the prize. Even old Captain Pem grudgingly agreed that he could find no fault with the ship’s luck, and admitted the black cat’s spell must have been broken. “But don’t fergit weather’s allers ca’mest jes afore a squall,” he said as a parting shot.
Mr. Kemp’s three bowheads were soon alongside, but that taken by Cap’n Pem’s boat was several miles distant, and the schooner could make no progress with the light wind with the three huge carcasses in tow.
“Now aren’t you glad we had that motor put in?” asked Tom of Cap’n Pem, as Mike started the motor and, with the staccato reports of the exhaust echoing over the Arctic sea, theNarwhalslowly pushed through the long swells, with the dead whales like a string of deeply laden barges trailing astern.
“Waall, I reckon I got ter admit ’tis a bit handy,” replied the old whaleman. “An’ I ain’t so all-fired ol’ fashioned I can’t admit it, neither. An’ time we gits inter the ice pack, I reckon it’ll come in mighty useful, too. But jes the same I ain’t got no use fer bumb lances nor dartin’ guns, nor such new-fangled contraptions. No, siree, my father and my granther used good, hand-wrought irons, an’what was good ernough fer them’s good ernough for me, by cricky.”
With the four whales alongside, cutting in and boiling began in earnest, and so anxious was the crew to get the oil and bone stowed and start after more whales, that they worked almost without cessation, cutting their periods or watches of rest to half the usual time.
“Mighty glad we took them Eskimos aboard over to Hebron,” remarked Mr. Kemp, as he paused a moment from his labors and watched the busy brown men, who had stripped to the waist and were scrambling about, jabbering incessantly, reminding the boys of a group of big monkeys. “And that ‘boy’ as you called him, Unavik, is a corker. Guess we’ll make him boss of the Eskimo bunch.”
A little later Unavik approached the two boys, grinning from ear to ear, covered with grease and soot, and gnawing at a strip of raw blubber. “H’lo!” he exclaimed. “Plenty work me tell. Suppose you no got chew t’bac?”
“No, but I’ll get you some,” said Tom, and hurrying to the cabin he returned with a plug.
The Eskimo bit a huge piece from the tobacco, tore off a mouthful of the blubber and industriously chewing both together smacked his lips.
“Gosh, but that must besomecombination!” exclaimed Jim.
“I suppose it’s a regular treat to him,” said Tom. “But it makes me sick just to think of eating that oily blubber, not to mention the tobacco.”
“All right, me go work, you betcher!” ejaculated Unavik as soon as he could talk. “You good frien’. Bimeby me go ’long hunt bear ’side you feller.” Stuffing the tobacco in his grease-soaked trousers, the Eskimo hurried back to the cutting stage.
All through the night, with the Aurora flickering above the northern horizon, and with the dull orange sun just visible upon the southern rim of the sea, the men toiled on. All through the following day the dripping strips of blubber were hauled on deck, the mincing knives thudded through the greasy mass upon the horse, the try works belched thick columns of black smoke, the cooper’s hatchet rang incessantly as casks were headed up, the tackles groaned and whined as the filled barrels were lowered into the hold, great masses of the whalebone were piled on deck and carcass after carcass, having been stripped of its precious covering of blubber, was cut loose and drifted slowly away from the ship.
Screaming, screeching, and squawking, a vast flock of sea birds had gathered about, swooping fearlesslyamong the men to tear bits of flesh and blubber from the whales. The birds rested by hundreds upon the grease-slicked water, sweeping back and forth above the decks, and hovering in clouds above the discarded, floating bodies. Never had the boys seen so many birds. They spent hours watching them as they sailed and wheeled and fought over the scraps and offal. Then at last the fourth carcass was cast adrift, the final pieces of blubber were boiled, the smoke from the try works dwindled and died out, the casks were stowed, and with over three hundred barrels of oil and more than two tons of choice bone in her hold, the schooner’s sails were hoisted. The men cleaned and swabbed the decks, and onward into the north and east theNarwhalheld her course.
For two days the schooner sailed steadily on, but no whale, no tiny puff of spray, broke the even surface of the sea. On the third morning, the boys glanced ahead to see soft gray mountains looming against the sky.
“Greenland!” announced Mr. Kemp who was on watch.
“Gosh, it doesn’t seem possible,” exclaimed Tom, gazing fixedly at the distant land. “Now we reallyarein the Arctic. Will we have a chance to go ashore, Mr. Kemp?”
“Guess you will,” replied the second officer. “The skipper’s goin’ to get some more Eskimos yonder—puttin’ into Disko Bay. Shouldn’t wonder if he did some sealin’ or walrus huntin’ too.”
“Hurrah! won’t it be great to say we’ve really been in Greenland?” cried Jim. “Golly, I never realized there were mountains there though.”
Rapidly the land grew more distinct. The boys could see deep bays—which Captain Edwards told them were fiords—great clefts cut far into the cliffs and marvelously colored with soft purples, mauves and blue. Here and there a valley between the hills gleamed green as an emerald, while vast, glistening, white masses of ice and snow zigzagged through narrow defiles. Stretching seaward from the shores was a broad white plain that rose and fell and moved like a restless white sea.
“Whatisthat white?” asked Tom who could not make it out.
“Shore ice, pan ice,” replied the captain. “Tide and wind sets it inshore, but it’s all pretty mushy now. Look, there’s a bit of it ahead.”
Bobbing up and down upon the waves, gleaming like silver in the sunshine, the boys saw several acres of drifting ice. As the schooner slipped by it, they exclaimed in delight at the wonderful beauty of thevivid green and blue of the submerged parts of the ice.
“Why, the water’s as clear as in the West Indies!” exclaimed Jim. “And almost as blue. Say, I always thought this place was dull and gray and covered with ice and snow, and it’s as fresh and lovely as anything. Now I know why it’s called Greenland.”
“Oh, what’s that big white wall there?” cried Tom.
“It looks like a great white cliff.”
The skipper glanced shoreward. “That’s a glacier,” he replied. “River of ice, like. They’re what make icebergs.”
“How on earth can they make icebergs?” asked Jim, studying the precipitous face of the glacier.
“Water cuts under ’em and they break off, and the pieces are the bergs,” explained the captain. “That’s what we call calving.”
“Well, it’s the prettiest colored thing I’ve ever seen,” declared Jim. “It’s for all the world like a giant opal and constantly changing. Gosh, it doesn’t look like any ice I ever saw.”
TheNarwhalwas now sailing close to the outer edge of the pack ice and a sharp lookout was kept for seals or whales. Then, rounding a jutting cape, the boys saw a deep blue fiord with a stupendous glacier leading down a great valley to the rockybeach. The mouth of the fiord was clear of ice, and so theNarwhal’scourse was shifted, and she slipped into the dark shadows of the towering cliffs. The water, calm as a millpond, was deepest indigo, and upon it the rocky heights and the great glacier were reflected as in a burnished mirror. Fascinated, the boys were gazing at the beautiful picture when the lookout’s hail reached the deck. “Podo’ seal over to wind’ard,” he shouted. “Close in shore!”
Captain Edwards sprang into the rigging, gazed in the direction indicated and leaped back to the deck. “Harps!” he announced. “We’ll have a try for ’em. Stand by to lower away the port boat. Mr. Kemp, you take charge, you’ve had more experience with them critters than any one else.”
“Can we go?” asked Tom.
“Guess you can,” responded the captain, “no danger sealin’.”
In a few moments the boat was in the water, the sealing clubs, with guns and rifles, were placed in readiness, and with a will the crew pulled toward the dark specks that marked the dozing, unsuspecting seals.
As they drew near shore, the mountains seemed to overhang the boat, and the face of the glacier loomed enormous against the background of the hills. Hereand there, grounded on bars or shoals, were small bergs and one enormous one, with lofty pinnacles like the many spires of a great cathedral, was floating majestically near the head of the fiord. From the cliffs, where they stood in endless rows, the auks, guillemots, puffins, and cormorants gazed down and protested in raucous cries. Presently the boys could distinguish the seals—great brownish yellow creatures with dark harp-shaped markings on their backs—a hundred or more, drawn far up on the shore among the rotting cakes of ice and sleeping soundly in the warm summer sunshine.
Silently the boat crept nearer. Without a sound, it grated against the shore. Armed with their clubs and one or two firearms, the men leaped towards the herd. Instantly the seals were awake, their heads were thrown up, their big lustrous eyes turned wonderingly. Then in terror at the onrushing horde of men, with short sharp barks and yelps of fear, they commenced scrambling towards the sea and safety. But the men, led by the Eskimos, had spread in a half circle. They were between the seals and the water. As the first panic-stricken creatures reached the shouting, yelling crew, the heavy clubs rose and fell with dull, sickening thuds. The seals dropped dying in their tracks and the others, turning,strove blindly to get away from these new enemies.
“Gosh, it makes me sick!” exclaimed Tom as he saw the slaughter of the poor helpless creatures. “It’s worse than killing sea elephants. No more sealing for me!”
“Nor me either,” declared Jim, “it’s just murder. And aren’t they pretty things!”
In a few moments it was all over. The beach and ice were strewn with the dead seals—not a single one had escaped—and the men, flushed and perspiring with exertion, and shouting triumphantly, tossed aside their bludgeons and commenced stripping the hides from the dead seals.
The two boys shouldered their rifles and started along the beach towards the glacier, now and then stopping to pick up some odd shell or bright-colored pebble. Once they came to a tiny brook brawling over the stones and followed it into a little valley, rich green with grass and brilliant with scarlet poppies and bright golden yellow flowers. From almost under Tom’s feet, a ptarmigan whirred up and stopping, the boys discovered the nest filled to overflowing with the heavily spotted brown eggs. A moment later Jim had his turn as he flushed a black and white snow bunting and found its cleverly hidden nest and spotted green eggs in their bed of fur and down.All about, from waving weeds stalks and jutting bowlders, buntings and longspurs, gray sparrows and dainty horned larks twittered and sang. From far up in the blue sky came a sweet rollicking song as a lark soared and bubbled over with joy. The boys, seating themselves on a ledge of rock, looked silently about, enjoying the peaceful scene and unable to believe that this warm sun, these bright flowers, these trilling birds were in far-off Greenland, a land they had always pictured as barren, desolate, and cold. Then, as they retraced their steps towards the beach, Jim jumped as a big Arctic hare leaped from its resting place and went bounding off among the rocks.
“Whew, hewasa whopper!” cried Tom. “Why didn’t you shoot him, Jim? He’d have tasted fine for a change from canned meat.”
Jim laughed. “I was so startled I forgot I had a gun,” he admitted, “and say, I’m rather glad I did. Somehow I’d hate to shoot anything here, it’s so pretty and happy.”
“Well, I guess we can struggle along without stewed rabbit for a while yet,” said Tom. “It does seem kind of a shame to kill anything here.”
“The men aren’t half through yet,” announcedJim as the two boys reached the beach once more. “Say, Tom, let’s walk over to the glacier.”
“All right,” agreed Tom readily, “it isn’t far and it will be fine to see it close to. Say, doesn’t theNarwhallook like a speck off there—with all these big hills round!”
“Yes,” assented Jim, “and just think of how she looked when we first saw her being towed into Fair Haven. Say, Tom, it’s almost weird, looking at her off there and with us here and thinking she’s that same old tub we saw, and that we came clear up here on her.”
“Yep, and that we’re her principal owners,” chuckled Tom.
So, talking and chatting, the two drew closer and closer to the towering face of the great glacier. Presently they stopped to admire the play of colors in the mighty mass of ice and, to get a clearer view, they clambered up the steep slope of the rocky hillside. They were standing there, gazing at the gigantic face of the glacier, when there was a splintering, awful roar, the whole end of the glacier plunged forward like a falling mountain and, as the crash of its fall echoed and reverberated from the hills, a mighty, foaming, surging wave came hissing and roaring up the beach. Never had the boys seen sucha huge comber. Green and irresistible, it raced straight towards them, the mighty swell raised by the plunge of the stupendous mass of ice. The boys, already startled and frightened half out of their wits by the deafening crash of the falling ice, stood breathless and wide-eyed, watching the oncoming wave that threatened to engulf them.
But they were just beyond its reach. With the upflung spray drenching them to the skin, the wave dashed itself against the rocks at their feet and then, with a sullen growl, drew back. Again and again the big waves came tearing in, but each was smaller than the preceding, and soon the beach stretched smooth and clear to the gently lapping ripples.
“Whew! it was lucky we climbed up here!” exclaimed Jim. “Say, it wouldn’t have been any fun to have been down on the beach.”
“Or alongside that glacier,” added Tom. “Jiminy, look at that berg! Wearelucky! We’ve seen a glacier calving!”
“And it’ssomecalf!” cried Jim, as he gazed at the enormous berg which but a few moments before had been a portion of the glacier.
“And look at theNarwhal!” exclaimed Tom.
The schooner was tossing and bobbing as if beset by a tempest, the masts cutting great arcs against thesky, the bow shipping green water, white froth pouring from the scuppers.
“Golly, that bergdidset a sea going!” ejaculated Jim. “I’ll bet Cap’n Pem’ll swear it was all due to the cat.”
“Well, it’s no bad luck anyhow, unless—Say! Jim, how about the men? Gosh! perhaps they were drowned or smashed by the waves. Come on, let’s beat it!”
Shouts assured the boys that the men were still there long before they rounded a point and came in sight of the scene of the killing. They had not escaped unscathed. The rending crash of the falling ice had warned them and, knowing what would follow, they had raced up the beach beyond reach of the waves. But the boat, lifted on the tremendous sea, had been left high and dry, wedged among the rocks and ice, hopelessly shattered. The bodies of the seals had been scattered far and wide. Some were floating far from shore, others had been cast high on the beach. The skins which had already been stripped from the creatures were rolled and tossed among the rocks for a hundred yards up and down the shore. The men searched out the pelts and proceeded to skin the remaining seals. A waif had been raised on the boat’s mast to attract attention of those on the schooner, and as the boys arrived at thespot another boat was speeding across the bay towards them.
“Hello!” cried Mr. Kemp as he caught sight of the boys. “I was just about settin’ off to look for you. Feared you might ha’ been catched in that wave or somethin’. Where was you?”
“We were on the way to the glacier,” said Tom, “and got up on a rock to see it better when it calved.”
“Darned lucky you wasn’t ’longside of it,” declared the second officer. “Don’t never go foolin’ ’round a glacier this time of year. Never can tell when they’re goin’ to bust loose. Stove our boat too, darn it.”
By the time the second boat arrived, the last of the seals was skinned. Piling the hides and the contents of the stove boat into the other craft, and dragging the shattered boat to the water, the party set out for theNarwhal, towing the injured craft.
“By gum, didn’t I tell ye thet cat was a-goin’ fer to bring bad luck?” exclaimed old Pem as the boys and Mr. Kemp climbed over the rail, and the old whaleman saw the boat with its shattered planking.
“Oh, dry up!” burst out the second officer. “Don’t care if you are mate, you’re an old croaker. Ain’t nothin’ to do with the puss. You know’s well as any one glaciers is always calving in summer.”
Cap’n Pem’s eyes opened in wonder and he staredspeechless at Mr. Kemp. Twice he opened his mouth as if about to speak, but both times he failed. At last, shaking his grizzled head dolefully, he turned and walked away.
Soon the schooner was again under way, chugging out of the fiord under her own power. Once more in the open sea, she heeled to the wind and bore northward for Disko Bay. As she came in sight of Disko Island, passing close to the many islets at the bay’s mouth, the boys were enthusiastic over the beauty of the scene. Presently they caught sight of a little cluster of huts and tents before which a row of kayaks were drawn upon the beach.
Before theNarwhal’sanchor plunged overboard the schooner was surrounded by the little bobbing skin canoes. To the boys’ joy they saw that these Eskimos were clad in skins and were exactly like the pictures they had always seen of these people. The Eskimo hands on the schooner greeted them with yells and chattered rapidly with them. Presently the newcomers were scrambling on to theNarwhal’sdeck. But at close quarters these Greenland Eskimos proved as greasy and filthy as those the boys had seen at Hebron.
“I never saw such dirty people!” exclaimed Tom as he edged away from the ill-smelling crowd.
“Don’t be expectin’ of ’em to be nothin’ else, do ye?” said Cap’n Pem. “How the Sam Hill they goin’ fer to keep clean? Reckon ye’d be a mite dirty if all the fresh water ye had fer to bathe in wuz melted snow.”
“But I should think they’d all be sick and die,” said Jim. “Why, they must live exactly like pigs.”
“Shure thin’, ain’t pigs the hilthiest av’ cr’atures!” exclaimed Mike.
But later, when, the boys went ashore, they found much of interest, despite the odors and the dirty inhabitants. They saw fat-faced Eskimo women, their hair done up in big greasy topknots, industriously chewing skins to cure them. They saw others carrying their bright-eyed little kiddies in the pouchlike hoods on their backs. They peered into the smoky reindeer skin tents and saw the soapstone lamps with their wicks of moss floating in oil. They saw the men carving walrus tusks into weapons and utensils, and they watched a couple of boys as they broke a dog team to harness. The Eskimos seemed very friendly and good-natured, and when Tom uttered an exclamation of surprise as a boy lashed out with his rawhide whip and deftly flipped the ear of a surly dog a dozen feet distant, the young Eskimogrinned broadly and said something in his own tongue.
“Says if you’ll give him a coin he’ll show you something,” interpreted Mr. Kemp who stood near.
Tom tossed the boy a quarter which the youngster examined critically, and bit with his firm white teeth. Apparently satisfied, he walked a short distance away and placed the coin upon the top of a little bowlder. Retracing his steps until fully twenty feet from the coin, he swung his whip about his head, suddenly lurched forward and with a crack like a pistol the snakelike lash struck the coin and sent it spinning high in the air. Dashing forward the boy caught it dexterously as it fell.
“Gosh, thatwasfine!” cried Tom. “Whew! hecanhandle a whip!”
Instantly the two boys were surrounded by the Eskimo lads, all clamoring for a chance to exhibit their skill and for some time the two boys were busy handing out their loose change and watching the Eskimos flip them from resting places with whips or hit them with their arrows as the coins were tossed into the air.
Not until the boys’ money was exhausted did they stop. Then, followed by the troop of young Eskimos, Tom and Jim continued on their round of the village.
“I never knew Eskimos lived in tents,” said Jim as Mr. Kemp stopped to bargain with a wrinkled old man for some carved ivory curios. “I thought they lived in igloos.”
The second mate laughed. “Funny, most all folks get that idea,” he replied. “Wonder how they think these lads is goin’ to build snow houses in summer.”
“Well you see we never realized it was summer—that is, warm—up here,” said Tom. “Somehow we always thought of the Arctic as cold and covered with ice all the year round.”
“Won’t we have a lot to tell the fellows at home?” said Jim. “How these women chew the skins to tan them, and how they live in wigwams just like Indians and say—what’s that man doing? Look, he’s splitting up a match.”
Sure enough, the Eskimo they were watching was very carefully splitting a sulphur match into tiny shavings with his knife while holding it over a bit of dry moss.
“He’s getting a light for his pipe or a lamp,” replied Mr. Kemp. “Matches are scarce and the Eskimos ain’t folks to waste nothing. When they want to use a match, they split it same’s he’s doin’, and bimeby one of the pieces’ll light and he’ll have hisfire, and ’stead of havin’ a match less he’ll have a dozen more. Look, there she goes!”
“Well thatisfunny!” cried Tom. “But those tiny slivers can’t be used. They’d break just as soon as he tried to scratch them.”
“Trust the Eskimos to look after that,” chuckled the second mate. “When he wants to use one of them slivers, he’ll tie it on to a bit of bone afore he scratches it.”
“Gee, but theyareclever!” declared Jim. “Talk about thrift!”
“I’ll tell you another thing,” went on Mr. Kemp. “Tobaccer’s scarce too, so, after they’ve smoked a pipe for a spell, they cut up the wooden stem and smoke that along with the tobaccer. Jus’ as good flavor, I reckon, and goes a blamed long ways towards savin’. Yes, sir, they’re a thrifty bunch. Even a Scotchman’d have blamed hard work to teach ’em much. And say, don’t throw away them brass shells from your rifles. Over to Hudson Bay you can trade ’em for good pelts. Yes, sir, get good fox skins for a shell each.”
“Oh, you’re kidding us!” cried Tom. “They can’t be such fools as all that.”
“Honest Injun, I ain’t,” protested the mate. “And they ain’t fools to do it. What a thing’s worthdepends on how much you want it. And them Eskimos want brass shells a heap more’n they want fox skins. They can go out and get foxes most any old time, but they can’t dig up brass or shoot it.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s so,” said Jim thoughtfully. “Sorry we threw away those shells we fired at the bear, but I guess we’ll have plenty more before we’re through.”
Although the boys were anxious to get some of the beautiful skins they saw, Mr. Kemp advised them to wait, assuring them that they’d be able to get all they wanted from the Eskimos about Hudson Bay, where theNarwhalwould winter, even if they did not succeed in killing the creatures themselves. But they could not resist the temptation to buy a complete fur suit each. Tom chose a costume of white baby bear trimmed with blue fox, while Jim secured a suit of sheeny, silvery seal elaborately ornamented with intricate designs worked in strips of reindeer skin and with a fringe of white fox fur about the hood and collar.
Both boys roared with laughter as they tried on the suits while the Eskimos gathered about and joined in the merriment.
“Gosh, if you wear that and any one sees you,they’ll take you for a bear and shoot you,” declared Jim.
“And if they see you they’ll think you’re a new kind of walrus,” retorted Tom.
“Hello, been getting outfits, eh?” exclaimed Captain Edwards who now appeared. “But come along, we’re getting off within the hour.”
A dozen Eskimos had been obtained at the village, and in addition, the skipper had secured several bales of valuable furs, nearly two hundred pounds of walrus ivory, and a quantity of whalebone.
“Guess you’ll have a chance to hunt walrus, boys,” remarked Captain Edwards as the boat pulled towards theNarwhal. “We’ll run across to Baffin Island. These Eskimos tell me there’s a herd of walrus over about Cape Hewitt. Then we’re off for Hudson Bay, after dropping these chaps here again.”
“Well, if hunting walrus isn’t any more sport than sealing, I’ll not care for it,” announced Tom.
“You’ll find it very different,” the skipper assured him. “No knocking walrus over the head. Not a bit of it—they’re tough propositions and show fight. You’ll have all the excitement you’re looking for.”
A number of the Eskimos had come off to the schooner in their kayaks, some of which were largeboats with double apertures in their skin-covered decks to accommodate two men. These were all hoisted on to theNarwhal’sdeck, Mr. Kemp explaining to the boys that much of the walrus hunting was done by the Eskimos in their frail boats.
Once more under way, theNarwhalheaded westward across Baffin Bay. As usual the lookouts were constantly searching the sea for whales. Tom and Jim, anxious to test their skill and having nothing else to amuse them, also went aloft and relieved the men, for Captain Edwards had already had a demonstration of the boys’ keen vision when on theHectorin the Antarctic. For a long time the two boys swept the broad expanse of sparkling water in vain. Here and there floating ice broke the blue-green surface, rafts of big eider ducks floated lightly on the waves, cormorants, gulls, and other birds sailed and wheeled about and occasionally a round black head, which the boys recognized as a seal, would break through the surface, stare curiously at the schooner and with a splash and a flirt of the back flippers, disappear in the depths. But no great, shiny, black expanse of glistening skin, no tiny fountain of spray, rose above the rippling water and the boys drowsed at their posts.
Then, Jim’s sleepy eyes noted a curious looking object upon the sea half a mile or so to the north.At first he took it for a soggy cake of ice, but it seemed to be moving as though carried in a swift current. Then he decided it was a water-logged spar, and yet it did not look just right for that either. Puzzled, he stared and then gave a shout. Clearly from the grayish white object a little puff of steamlike vapor had risen.
“Blows!” he yelled almost unconsciously, and then, half ashamed of his involuntary cry and realizing it was no whale he saw, he cried out, “Come up and take a look, Mr. Kemp.”
The second mate ran nimbly up the rigging, glanced about, gazed fixedly in the direction Jim indicated, and cupping his hands yelled down, “Beluga! ’Bout four p’ints off the starboard bow—school of ’em.”
“Beluga?” exclaimed Jim as the officer started down the shrouds. “What’s that?”
“White whale!” replied Mr. Kemp, as he rapidly descended to the deck.
“Well, that’s a new one on me,” declared Jim, yelling across to Tom. “I thought all whales were black. Oh look, Tom! Thereisa school of the things and—Gosh! I thought they were ice!”
Already the boats were being swung, and by the time the boys reached the deck, two craft were being lowered over the side and the men and Eskimos weretumbling into them. Without waiting to ask permission, the boys leaped into one of the boats and a moment later were speeding towards the odd whitish creatures swimming slowly along and all unconscious of danger.
As the boats drew near the whales, they spread out, the harpooniers laid aside their oars and stood in the bows with irons in hand, and in a moment more were within striking distance of the creatures. Almost at the same instant the various harpoons darted forward, and as the keen points of the irons buried themselves in the animals’ sides, the belugas leaped half from the water, looking to the boys’ wondering eyes far more like gigantic white seals than whales. Then, with a rush, the creatures started off, towing the boats at a terrific rate through the water, turning and twisting, sounding and milling, sometimes leaping high in air, at other times rolling over and over, and striving by a hundred unexpected moves to rid themselves of the stinging weapons in their sides. As Tom said afterwards, it was like playing enormous trout, for the men alternately hauled in or let out the line; they laughed and shouted and yelled as if thoroughly enjoying the sport and there was none of the tense strained attitude that the boys had seen when attacking the bowheads.
But the fight did not last long. Within fifteen minutes from being struck the white whale was tired out. He rested almost motionless, blowing frequently; and, hauling in the line hand over hand, as the crew urged the boat forward, the men drew the craft close to the big, dirty-white creature. An instant later the long, keen-bladed lance flashed, the stricken whale threw its head high in air, thrashed madly with its tail, and rolled slowly over on its side in the reddening water.
“That wasn’t much of a fight!” exclaimed Tom as the boat was run alongside the dead beluga and the fluke chain was made fast.
“Never do give much of a tussle,” said Mr. Kemp, “they ain’t much more’n second-rate whales anyhow. No bigger’n blackfish.”
Towing the dead whale, the boat pulled toward the schooner and a few minutes later the other three boats came in, each with his white, twenty-foot carcass bobbing along behind it. Then for the first time, the boys saw that the Eskimos were also out in their big kayaks and were paddling furiously over the waves in pursuit of the remaining belugas. Running into the rigging the boys watched the Eskimos through their glasses. They saw the foremost paddler in the nearest kayak urge his skin craft among the speedingwhales; the man in the forward seat raised his arm, there was a flash as a harpoon sped through the air, and the next moment a huge, dark-colored, balloon-shaped object was bobbing up and down, dashing this way and that where the beluga had been, while the kayak paddled off in another direction.
“Gee, he missed him!” cried Tom. “And say, what on earth is that thing on the water?”
“Search me!” replied Jim. “Golly, there’s three more of ’em. And not a single kayak is fast to a whale. Let’s ask about it.”
Hurrying to the deck the boys approached Captain Edwards. “Oh, Captain,” cried Tom, “what are those big round things out there by the Eskimos’ kayaks? And how is it not a single kayak is fast to a whale? Those fellows must be dubs not to get fast when they’re right among the whales.”
The skipper roared with laughter. “Dubs!” he exclaimed. “Why, my boys, I’ll warrant not a Eskimo missed gettin’ fast. But of course you don’t understand. Them things you see a-bobbin’ about yonder are floats—skin bladders, and fast to the Eskimos’ irons in the whales. They don’t risk their kayaks a-gettin’ fas’, but jus’ let the whales tire ’emselves out a-towin’ the buoys ’round and meantimego after other critters. They’ll bring ’em all in, don’t you worry.”
“Well, wehavegot a lot to learn,” remarked Jim turning away. “Look, Tom, there comes a kayak now, and—yes, they’re towing two whales.”
Interestedly the two boys watched the approaching Eskimos, and one after another, the kayaks came paddling alongside, each towing one or more belugas. By the time all were alongside the schooner, twelve white whales were floating under the vessel’s lee and the crew were working like beavers cutting in the dull white creatures. The work was easy and rapid compared with cutting in the bowheads or a sperm whale, for the belugas were tiny creatures compared with the other monsters the boys had seen.
Within twenty-four hours after first sighting the school, the last of the catch had been cast adrift, and theNarwhalwas again sailing westward toward Baffin Island and the walrus grounds.
Elated at their success in sighting the white whales, the two boys ran up the rigging to their places on the crosstrees. Scarcely had Tom glanced about when his shout of, “She blows!” rang out. Barely a mile ahead a sparkling jet of vapor had risen above the sea, and an instant later a stupendous body had broken the surface, gleaming like polished metal inthe sun. Cataracts of water poured from it. Tom fairly gasped at the size of the creature, and his voice was shaking with excitement as he yelled back, “a point off the port bow, about a mile away,” in response to the Captain’s call of, “Where away?”
“It’s the biggest whale ever!” he cried excitedly to the officers as he reached the deck. “Say, wewillhave a fight with him!”
Captain Edwards chuckled. “I’ll bet we would—if we gave him a chance,” he replied. “But we ain’t a-goin’ to meddle with that critter.”
“You mean you’re not going after him?” cried Tom in wondering tones. “Why, why, he’d give over a hundred barrels!”
“Don’t doubt it,” smiled the skipper, “but he can keep it under his blamed old hide for all of us.”
“Do you mean you’re afraid to tackle him?” demanded the puzzled boy.
Mr. Kemp and Cap’n Pem burst into a roar of laughter. “Yes and no,” declared the second officer, “that’s a finback.”
“Finback!” exclaimed Jim. “What’s that?”
“Consarndest critters there be,” declared Cap’n Pem. “Ef ye wanter git stove or kilt or towed ter kingdom come, jes go in on a finback. ’Course I ain’t skeered o’ doin’ of it—never seed a whale yitthet skeered me, but shucks, what’s the use? Derned critters’ll tow ye nigh fifty mile ’fore ye kin lance ’em an’ fight like Sam Hill. An’ arter ye’ve druv home the lance, ef yer boat ain’t smashed ter kindlin’ wood, an’ ye ain’t kilt, the consarned critter’s jes mean an onderhanded enough fer to sink.”
“Then you don’t touch them!” exclaimed Tom. “Gosh, it seems a shame to let such big fellows go. Aren’t they ever killed?”
“Steam whalers—Scotch and Skowhegians take ’em,” replied Mr. Kemp. “But you got to have harpoon guns and bomb lances and three inch cables and steam winches to get ’em.”
By now the whale which had been the subject of the conversation was within plain view from the deck, and the boys fairly gasped as they noted its enormous size. An instant later it had caught sight of the schooner and in a swirl of foam sounded and disappeared.
“Well, we’re still learning,” laughed Tom. “I always thought whales were whales, but I know now that there are whalesandwhales.”
Hour after hour theNarwhalsailed steadily on, and ever as she proceeded, the floating ice and lofty drifting bergs grew larger and more numerous. When the shores of Baffin Island at last rose above the sea, the water was only visible as narrow lanes of green amid the wide stretch of rough ice. How the schooner could ever get through the vast field with its bobbing close-packed cakes and its towering bergs, was a mystery to the boys. They watched intently as old Cap’n Pem, now in charge as ice pilot, bawled out quick, sharp orders, and at his commands, the helm was shifted, yards were swung and sails trimmed instantly as theNarwhaltacked and turned and twisted and threaded her devious way through the narrow leads. Often after the schooner’s passage, the ice, disturbed by her wake, would drift across the channels, and soon the boys, looking astern, could see nothing but thevast field of ice showing no sign of the open water by which they had entered.
Here, too, the boys saw why the topsail schooner was such a favorite with Arctic whalemen. To be sure, Cap’n Pem had already explained it to them when they had first discussed theNarwhal’srig, but until they actually saw it demonstrated they did not fully realize how handy the rig was amid the ice. Often, as the vessel plunged forward along a narrow lead, the passage would end in an impenetrable barrier, and the boys held their breaths as the schooner seemed about to dash into the mass of ice. But each time the old whaleman’s voice would roar out an order. The men, ready at sheets and braces, would bend to the ropes and, as the huge topsail yard swung about, theNarwhalwould slow down, hesitate, and at the very instant the boys expected to hear the splintering of ice and the crashing of shivered planking, the schooner would begin to move backward. But at last the leads became so narrow, so tortuous and so choked with ice that Cap’n Pem declared they could go no farther.
“Reckon we’d better be gettin’ out ice anchors, an’ lyin’ here till she opens up,” he declared, addressing Captain Edwards. “Soon’s wind or tide changes, the derned ice’ll begin ter move.”
“Humph, and take us with it, like as not,” responded the skipper. “Never did see such a lot of ice ’long here this time o’ year. And time’s flyin’. If she don’t open up mighty quick, we’ll have to put about and make for the Straits or we won’t be a-gettin’ into the Bay this season.”
“Can’t you run in with the motor?” asked Tom. “Seems to me that’s easier to handle than sails.”
“By glory! I must be gettin’ old,” cried the captain. “Say, Pem, what sort of a’ ice pilot are you that you didn’t think of that?”
“How in tarnation’d I think o’ thet there contraption?” demanded the old whaleman. “Fust time I ever wuz shipmates long o’ one.”
In a few minutes the motor’s exhaust was ringing loudly across the ice pack, and under half speed, the schooner was cautiously feeling her way through the zigzagging, winding lanes of water; bumping into floating cakes, grating against the solid masses on either side, but each moment getting farther and farther into the vast field and nearer to the gray rocky coast. Presently, from the lookout came the shout of “Open water ahead!” An hour later theNarwhalwas resting at anchor in a broad expanse of open sea with only isolated grounded bergs and drifting floes upon the surface. Seaward, the whitebarrier through which she had passed stretched to the horizon to north and south.
Hardly had the schooner come to rest before the Eskimos were launching their kayaks, and in a few minutes were darting away in various directions.
“Where are they going?” asked Tom as he and Jim watched the skin boats leave the vessel’s side.
“Lookin’ for walrus,” replied the captain. “When they sight a herd they’ll come back and report and like as not get a few to bring along as samples.”
“I’d love to be with them,” declared Jim. “I’m going to ask Unavik to take us in a kayak some day.”
“Better start with a real boat,” advised the captain. “If you see a big bull walrus rearin’ up his head and glarin’ at you with them red eyes of his, and roarin’ and bellowin’ and heavin’ his tusks up and down, and rushin’ at you like he’s gone crazy, you’ll be mighty glad you’re in a whaleboat ’stead of a skin kayak.”
“Whew, are they like that?” cried Tom. “They look so big and clumsy in the pictures and when they’re stuffed, that I didn’t suppose they could really do much harm.”
“Wussedest critters I know,” declared Cap’n Pem, “and ye wouldn’t git me fer to hunt ’em in them there cockleshells o’ kayaks, not fer nothin’. With a goodmusket an’ a whaleboat ’tain’t so bad, but a bull walrus ain’t to be sneezed at, lemme tell ye!”
“All the more excitement,” laughed Tom. “I’m just crazy to go after them!”
“Guess ye mus’ be crazy to wanter,” muttered old Pem. “But long’s ye’re out fer to git adventure an’ own the consarned ol’ ship, there ain’t a mite o’ use my tellin’ ye not to.”
Jim laughed. “You know perfectly well you wouldn’t let us go and neither would Captain Edwards, if there was any real danger,” he said.
“There’s always danger on a whaler in the Arctic,” said the skipper, “but you two boys know how to shoot and ain’t reckless, and Kemp’s an old hand, and there ain’t any likelihood of your gettin’ hurt, in a good boat.”
“But there’s that there cat——” began Pem.
“Oh nonsense!” interrupted Tom. “If we go, we’re going to take that cat with us as a mascot.”
“Waall, foolswillrush in, ye knows,” muttered the old whaleman as he stumped aft.
While waiting for the Eskimos to return with word as to the whereabouts of the walrus herd, the boats were lowered, the masts stepped, guns and other appliances and weapons stowed, and all prepared in readiness for the hunt. At last, after several hourswait, the boys spied the kayaks returning. As they drew near, Tom and Jim saw that the two leading craft were towing some huge object. Grasping the glasses, Tom ran up the rigging. “They’ve found them!” he cried out an instant later. “They’re bringing in the ‘sample’ just as the captain said.”
“How they can get a walrus and tow him in with those kyaks gets me,” declared Jim.
“Trust those boys to do it though,” said Mr. Kemp. “Why, they even get big bowheads in kayaks. They can handle them canoes to beat all. I’ve seen ’em flop clean over and come up a smilin’ t’other side.”
Tom laughed. “You must think we’re greener than we are, to swallow that,” he declared.
The second officer grinned. “All right, I’ll prove it,” he announced, and calling to a young Eskimo who stood near, he said something to him in the fellow’s own language.
With a broad grin the Eskimo slipped over the schooner’s rail, settled himself in the tiny craft, pulled the string of the lacing to the circular opening about his body, and with a few strokes of his paddle drew away from theNarwhal.
“Now watch him!” exclaimed Mr. Kemp.
Glancing up at the watching boys, the Eskimowaved his hand, gave a sudden lurch to one side, and to the boys’ utter amazement, the kayak capsized. The next instant they could see only the smooth rounded bottom of the canoe.
“Oh, he’ll be drowned!” cried Tom. “He’s laced in and can’t——”
Before he could finish the sentence, the kayak had rotated, and scarcely believing their eyes, the boys saw the craft bob right side up with its swarthy occupant still grinning.
“Well, thatisa stunt!” cried Jim.
“Yes, I take it all back,” said Tom. “I’ll believe any yarn you tell us after that.”
Over and over again the Eskimo performed the feat for the boys’ benefit, and then, the walrus hunters approaching, he darted off and joined them.
As the kayaks came alongside, the boys looked with wonder at the enormous creature they had in tow—a huge bull walrus, partly supported by air-filled skin floats, and with gleaming white tusks nearly two feet in length.
Swarming on to the schooner, the Eskimos all began chattering at once in a mixture of broken English, Danish, and their own tongue, until Captain Edwards threw up his hands in despair. “Here, Mr. Kemp,” he called, “come and get this. I can savvy a bit o’the lingo, but this is too much for me. They’re worse nor a flock o’ poll-parrots!”
The second officer pushed his way through the group, uttered a few sharp words in the Eskimos’ dialect, and instantly all ceased talking. Then, turning to a man who appeared to be a leader, he asked him a question. Rapidly and with sparkling eyes the fellow replied, and Mr. Kemp turned to the skipper. “Says there’s a whoppin’ big herd of walrus over to Lewis’ Inlet,” he announced. “’Cordin’ to him, must be pretty nigh two hundred of the critters. Leastwise, he says ‘twenty pair of hands of ’em’ and that’s all the same as two hundred. Says they’re well up on land and easy to cut off from water. They picked the bull up outside on a cake of ice.”
“All right,” replied the captain. “Man the boats and get started. Guess you’ll need pretty near all hands. Swanson’s been after walrus afore, he tells me, and I guess Pem and Mike and two or three of the men can take care of the ship. I’ll go along in one boat, you take another, Swanson can take the third and—hmm, Mr. Chester, you’re to take the fourth boat!”
For a moment Tom did not realize that the captain was addressing him, and then, as it dawned upon him,“Wha—what’s that?” he stammered. “You don’t mean——”
“That you’re in charge of the port after-boat,” interrupted the skipper with a twinkle in his eye. “You can take Mr. Lathrop as mate if you wish. Might as well learn how to handle a boat now as ever.”
“Gee Whitaker!” exclaimed the dazed boy as he and Jim dashed to their cabin for their rifles. “I’m as nervous as a cat! Of course I can steer the boat—with the rudder and under sail; but I don’t know what to do when we get to the walrus.”
“Oh, just do like the others do,” advised Jim. “Gosh, I’d like to have your chance! Say, you’ll be a regular boat steerer next! Besides, Captain Edwards will probably tell you what to do when we get near.”
But despite Jim’s encouraging words, Tom’s knees were shaky as he took his place in the boat assigned him, slipped the rudder in place, and sat waiting the captain’s order to cast off.
“When you get near the herd, spread out,” directed Captain Edwards, “and go in as near the same time as you can. Pick the biggest bulls and aim for the ear or neck close to the head. Take them that’s near the water first, and if one of ’em comes for you, keep off and shoot him. Don’t take nochances—a bull walrus can stave a boat’s easy as a egg shell.”
A moment later the boats were cast off, sails were trimmed, and the little fleet went dancing across the calm sea, each boat towing several kayaks with their Eskimo occupants behind it.
Nearer and nearer they approached the shore. The schooner was a mere speck in the distance, and the captain’s boat, guided by a wrinkled old Eskimo, swung more towards the south. Presently they passed a jutting, rocky cape, about whose shores the drift ice was piled high, and entered a tiny bottle-shaped bay. And at the sight which greeted them, the boys exclaimed in wonder.
Everywhere upon the shingle and the grounded cakes of ice were the bulky, dull-brown, clumsy-looking walrus. There were scores—hundreds of the creatures. Giant bulls with enormous, wrinkled, warty-skinned necks and gleaming ivory tusks; smaller, light-colored cows, and little seal-like pups. The pups and cows were some distance from the water’s edge, the younger bulls were scattered in groups near by and along the shore. Resting on rocks or ice cakes with their tiny heads raised high, were the old veterans of a thousand fights, the giant, scarred, elephantine bulls.
Instantly, as with one accord, sails were lowered, the kayaks were cast off and, under oars and paddles, the fleet of boats and canoes swept upon the herd. For a moment the bulls stared wonderingly at the unexpected visitors. Then a low, growling, barking roar echoed across the bay. The great creatures wheeled about to face the intruders and, shaking their tusked heads threateningly, prepared to defend the cows and their young.
The next instant, rifles and muskets roared. The boys glimpsed several big bulls as they swayed and sank lifeless. They heard the shouts of the excited men, the shriller cries of the Eskimos, and then forgot all else as their boat approached a gigantic bull walrus who had dragged himself to the very verge of an ice cake, and was on the point of diving into the sea. Taking careful aim, Jim fired; but at the very instant he pulled the trigger, the boat lurched, his rifle wavered, and the bull with a roar plunged with a tremendous splash into the water.
“Gosh, I missed!” cried Jim.
“There’s another!” screamed Tom. “Get him!”
Once more Jim’s rifle crashed out and a smaller bull sagged like an empty sack upon the shingle.
“Hurrah!” cried Tom, and then his glad shout died on his lips and he screamed a warning filled withterror. Within two feet of the boat—so close he could have touched it with his outstretched hand—a great, ferocious-looking head had burst from the water, the tiny, wicked eyes gleaming like those of an enraged elephant, the stiff, horny whiskers bristling, the two-foot yellow tusks dripping blood from a deep gash across the forehead where Jim’s bullet had cut its way.
Wounded, mad with fury, the walrus reared its massive neck above the water and hurled itself at the boat. Frantically Tom yelled. The men seized the oars and struggled desperately to swing the boat. Jim hastily reloaded and strove to shoot. But the boat was swaying and tipping to the men’s efforts and Jim could not aim. Almost before they realized their peril, the boys saw the maddened creature’s head raised above the edge of the boat. With a tremendous blow, the long tusks came crashing down, splintering the thwart, breaking the stout oak rail and bearing the boat down to the water’s edge.
Instantly the men threw themselves to the opposite side of the craft. With oars, clubs and whatever they could grasp they rained a shower of blows upon the animal’s head, but they might as well have struck at a helmet of steel. With blood pouring from the wounds, but not affected by them in the least, the bullwalrus lashed the water into a maelstrom of froth, wrenched his head back and forth, bellowed with rage, and swung the heavy thirty-foot boat from side to side and up and down as though it were a thing of paper. Excited, rattled, terror-stricken, Tom was paralyzed with fear, and neither he nor any of his men realized that their antagonist was striving with might and main to tear free his tusks wedged in the splintered wood; that, with his head thus held as in a trap, he could not lift himself high enough to withdraw his tusks, and that he was in reality almost as terrorized as the occupants of the boat. Owing to some mistake, none of the old hands were in Tom’s boat. Not a member of his crew had ever before seen a live walrus, much less an infuriated wounded one. They were so thoroughly frightened by the creature’s sudden and savage onslaught, that they completely lost their heads.
Then, suddenly and with a wild shout, one-eyed Ned leaped forward, seized a boat spade and, yelling like a fiend and holding the weapon as though it were a bayonet, he plunged the keen-edged spade time after time into the thick, wrinkled neck of the walrus. The sea turned crimson, the walrus lashed the water into scarlet foam. Gradually his struggles ceased, his eyes closed, and he laydead, with his tusks still locked over the boat’s rail.
But the danger was not over. The inert, heavy body tipped the craft until every wave lapped over the side, and while several men struggled and heaved and tugged to lift the creature’s head free, the others bailed for their lives, but seemingly to no purpose. Not only was the buoyancy of the boat pressing upwards against the weight of the walrus, but the tusks were driven so firmly through the thwart that they were locked as though in a vise. Each second it seemed as if the boat would fill and all would be struggling in the icy water.
Their shouts and cries had attracted the attention of the other boats and Swanson, who was nearest, had come racing to Tom’s aid. Before his boat was alongside, the battle was over, however, and seeing the trouble, the cooper and several of his men leaped into Tom’s boat and with their weight on the upper side, the water ceased to come in. Then Tom, suddenly remembering his responsibility, recovered his scattered wits. “Here!” he shouted. “Get the handle of an oar under his head and pry him loose!” But even with the stout handle of the heavy ash oar as a lever, the walrus’ head could not be budged.
“Get the hatchet and cut away the thwart!” ordered Tom. As the keen-edged little ax cut through thesplintered wood, the men heaved up on the oar, and with a splash the animal’s head slipped over the rail into the sea.
Swanson stood up, pulled at his huge mustache, drew his pipe from his pocket and commenced to fill it with a blunt, blackened forefinger. “Ay tank you bane have close shave,” he remarked, as he glanced about. “By yiminy, you bane pretty near cut das fellow head off.”
“I’ll say we had a close shave!” exclaimed Tom. “And if it hadn’t been for Ned we’d all have been drowned or killed. Gee, I’d have hated to be overboard with that beast. Ned was the only one who kept his head.”
The big Swede nodded approvingly, squinted his pale blue eyes and turned his gaze curiously on the ex-soldier.
“Ay tank mebbe das glass eye he got more better as two some fellers got. He bane gude fellow, Ned,” he declared gravely.
“Aw, forget it!” exclaimed the one-eyed veteran flushing. “I didn’t do nothin’. The bloomin’ beast’s face was so darned like that of a Hun what stuck his ugly mug into my dugout over there, that I plumb forgot myself an’ went at him with a bay’net same’s if he was a Heinie.”
“Well, if that was a sample of the way you went after the Germans, I’m sorry for them!” laughed Tom.