“Hello!” cried the foremost man as his sledge, drawn by the Newfoundlands, came to a halt close to the boys. “What you kids doing out here?”
“We got separated from our party and lost,” explainedTom. “Our dogs broke away and cleared out. You’re from theRubyaren’t you?”
That any other white men should be here had never occurred to the boys, and yet the men did not look like whalemen or sailors. One was clad in a gay Mackinaw, the other in furs; both were large, powerfully built fellows and both had an alert, erect, peculiar bearing that was very different from any whalemen the boys had even seen. The man in the Mackinaw was lean-jawed, with keen gray eyes and wore a close-cropped mustache, while the other was smooth-faced. Although both were as red as Indians from wind and weather and had a week’s stubble of beard upon their faces, they wore an indefinable stamp of authority about them.
The boys remembered that Captain Edwards had said theRubywas a Nova Scotia ship, and as they had never seen Nova Scotia seamen, they thought the men before them might be the officers of the brigantine.
But at Tom’s words the man with the mustache laughed pleasantly.
“Well, hardly!” he replied. “I’ve been taken for most everything, but never for a sealer before. No, we’re just ordinary Northwest Police. I’m Sergeant Manley and this chap”—jerking his head towards hiscomrade—“is Private Campbell. We’re from Fort Churchill. Been mushing it for two weeks. Looking for the darkest-dyed rascal that ever disgraced the Dominion. Fellow named Pierre Jacquet—Chippewa half-breed. Wanted for murder and with a thousand dollars reward for him, dead or alive. Haven’t seen anything of him, have you?”
Tom shook his head. “No,” he replied. “But say, Sergeant, we found a dead man back there. He’d been killed by a bear or something. He was awful! His head smashed in and torn to pieces! Gee, it makes me feel sick to think of him.”
“Dead man!” snapped the Sergeant. “What did he look like?”
“He was short and stout with a black beard and bushy, black eyebrows,” replied Tom, “and had on a suit of harp seal trimmed with blue fox.”
The Sergeant whistled. “Boys,” he cried, slapping Tom on the back. “You’re lucky kids! Not many can get lost and make a thousand dollars by doing it!”
“Why, what do you mean?” asked Tom puzzled.
“Mean!” cried Sergeant Manley. “Why, that dead man’s Jacquet. You’ve won a thousand dollars by finding him. Come on, lead us to him.”
Now that the snow had ceased to fall it was easyto retrace their footsteps, and in a few minutes the party was once more approaching the dead man.
“It’s Pierre all right!” declared the Sergeant, as he glanced at the dead man.
“Aye, there’s nae doot o’ it,” agreed Campbell. “Mon, but ’tis a fit endin’ he met.”
“Can’t take him back to the Fort,” commented the Sergeant, half to himself. “Can’t bury him. Guess we’ll have to leave him. Campbell, search his clothes for anything that will identify him.”
Rapidly the private went through the pockets of the dead outlaw, turning the body over as nonchalantly as though it were a log, and presently he straightened up.
“Aye, here’s his dirk an’ a wee bit o’ siller,” he announced as he handed the Sergeant a long-bladed hunting knife reddened with blood and a buckskin bag of money.
“Must have shot at the bear and wounded him, and had a hand-to-hand fight,” remarked Manley. “Used his knife evidently, but the bear got in the finishing blow. Hmm, there must be papers or jewelry or a watch or something on him.”
Stooping, the Sergeant again examined the body, stripping aside the furs, and presently rose with a satisfied grunt. “Guess this is all we need,” he saidas he showed a heavy, old-fashioned silver watch, a bundle of letters and small book. “Nothing more to do here,” he continued. “We’ll see you to theRubynow.”
“But we can’t leave our sledge,” objected Tom. “It’s got all our things on it.”
Sergeant Manley stroked his mustache and bit his lip as he hesitated. “All right,” he assented at last. “Guess we can find it. You saved us a lot of hard work by finding Jacquet, so we can afford to do our bit.”
With keen, trained eyes the officers followed the boys’ trail, half hidden though it was, and long before Tom and Jim realized that they were near it, private Campbell sighted the abandoned sled covered deep with snow.
“Might as well take your meat, too,” said the Sergeant. “These Newfoundlands can manage one deer and we can load the other on your sled and hitch your two huskies on with Campbell’s dogs to haul it.”
In a few minutes the deer were lashed to the sledges, the boys’ dogs had been harnessed to Campbell’s team, and with the boys riding, the dogs raced forwards over the soft fresh snow.
“Have to give us your address so that reward canbe sent you,” said the Sergeant as they dashed down a long slope.
“I don’t want it,” declared Tom. “It belongs to you and private Campbell, doesn’t it, Jim?”
“Of course,” agreed Jim. “I wouldn’t think of taking it. Why, we just stumbled on the body by chance and you’d have found it if we hadn’t.”
“That’s being too generous,” declared the Sergeant. “It belongs to you. We might have passed by and never found the body.”
“Well, we want you to have it—even if you call it a present—or to show our gratitude for finding you and getting saved,” insisted Tom.
“I can’t thank you—only to say thanks awfully,” declared Manley, “and I’ll tell the wife what a couple of fine kids you are when I get back to the Fort.”
“Aye!” shouted the private. “Yon bit o’ siller’ll come muckle handy i’ celebratin’ o’ a weddin’ wi’ a bonny lass awaitin’ me i’ yon Fort.”
Then as the boys sped on, they talked with the two stalwart guardians of His Majesty’s law in the frozen wastes, and told them all about their trip, their hunts, and the staving of theNarwhal, and even of their former cruise in theHector, to the Antarctic.
To all of this Campbell and his Sergeant listened attentively, laughing gaily over Cap’n Pem and Mike,now and then asking a question, uttering surprised ejaculations as the boys told of their adventures, and now and again glancing at each other and raising their eyebrows as Tom and Jim told of the rich catch of furs, hides, and ivory theNarwhalhad made. Rapidly the time passed. Untiringly the powerful dogs raced on, until at last, Sergeant Manley raised his fur-mittened hand and pointed ahead.
“Tinavik Cape,” he said. “See that conical hill? Guess you’ll see your people when you get to the ridge there.”
Down into a deep, wide valley the sledges sped; across a broad frozen river, and up the farther slope, and gaining the top of the sharp, high ridge the dogs came to a standstill, panting and winded.
“Hurrah! We’re there!” shouted Tom as the boys looked down from the hilltop. “There’s the brigantine!”
For a moment the little group paused on the summit of the ridge, and gazed down at the inlet with the brig floating amid the great cakes of ice.
“Gosh, we weren’t far off after all!” exclaimed Jim.
Sergeant Manley smiled. “You don’t have to be far off to get lost up here,” he said, “and I’m blessin’ the day we met you. Best of luck all around. Saved you boys, saved us the Lord alone knows how many weeks of mushing it, and ended the hunt for Jacquet.”
“Aye, an’ nae forgettin’ the tidy bit o’ siller comin’ to our pockets,” put in the practical Campbell.
“Say, whatarethey doing on the shore?” cried Tom who had been studying the scene intently. “Look, they’ve got tents and I can see a lot of the men there. Why aren’t they on the brig?”
Sergeant Manley whipped out his glasses and focused them on the shore of the inlet.
“Something queer!” he exclaimed. “Wonder if theRuby’sstove too. Let’s go.”
The next moment the powerful Newfoundlands were tearing down the slope with the lighter, cream-colored Eskimo dogs in the rear, and with the two stalwart policemen riding the runners and “yip-yiing” at the teams. Like the wind the sleds raced down the steep hillside, and the two boys bent their heads as the cold wind whistled across their faces.
Out on to the flat they dashed, and leaping off, the two officers brought their teams to a sudden halt within a dozen yards of the first tent.
“Wall, I’ll be squeegeed!” cried Cap’n Pem as he turned at the sound of the party’s arrival. “Where’n——” Then, catching sight of the boys’ companions he leaped forward with a hop and a skip.
“By the etarnal, I’m glad to see ye!” he cried. “Nor’west perlice, ain’t ye? Where’n Sam Hill’d these youngsters pick ye up?”
“Any trouble?” demanded Sergeant Manley without stopping to reply to the old whaleman’s queries.
“Trouble!” exploded old Pem. “Mut’ny! Them there critters has seized theRubyan’ won’t let nary a man aboard, dod gast their hides!”
“Where’s the captain?” snapped out the sergeant as he slipped his carbine from its sheath and Campbell did the same.
“Here he comes,” said Tom. “What started the mutiny, Cap’n Pem?”
“Them there gutter snipes!” replied the old whaleman. “Said this here was a salvage job an’ wouldn’t stir hand nor foot lessen we give ’em half the valer o’ theNarwhal’scargo. I swan, I never heered o’ sech a thing. Never knowed a whaleman t’ talk o’ salvage. That’s what comes o’ these here unions an’ new-fangled idees.”
“Hello!” cried Captain Edwards, who now joined the group with Mike and the other members of theNarwhal’scompany behind him. “See you’ve brought reënforcements, boys. Glad you’re here, officers.”
“Understand you’ve a mutiny aboard,” said the Sergeant.
“Not my ship,” replied the captain, “that’s the trouble. We could rush ’em but they’ve got their skipper an’ mates there and she’s a British ship and I don’t know how far we Yankees could go.”
“Got any guns?” snapped out Manley.
“’Bout a dozen,” Captain Edwards assured him.
“Plenty!” declared the Sergeant. “Get your bestmen together, give them the guns, and I’ll take charge. Campbell, get the kayaks ready.”
Throwing off his mackinaw, Sergeant Manley strode forward, uttered sharp, crisp orders and with twelve of theNarwhal’screw, including Nate, one-eyed Ned, Swanson, and Mr. Kemp, he marched to the waiting kayaks, ordering the men to shoot and shoot to kill if he gave the word. With ready carbine he stepped into a canoe. Behind him came the little flotilla. Instantly all was excitement on the decks of the brigantine. Men ran here and there. One or two leaped into the rigging, and the watching boys saw the flash of steel, and the glint of gun barrels.
“Golly, they’re going to fight!” exclaimed Jim.
“B’jabbers thin ’twill be a sorry day for thim!” declared Mike. “’Tis the King’s constabulary they do be afther resistin’, bad cess to thim.”
But the battle the boys expected never took place. No sooner did the mutineers recognize the police officers than all ideas of resistance were cast aside. Clambering on to the rail a man waved a white rag frantically in token of surrender. An instant later the kayaks were alongside, and Sergeant Manley and Campbell leaped over the bulwarks.
Cowed, with all the braggadocio gone from them,theRuby’screw backed away and stood muttering together near the foremast.
“Where’s the captain and mate?” snapped out the Sergeant, keeping the men covered with his weapon.
“Aft, in the cabin,” replied one of the men.
“Search that crowd, Campbell!” ordered the Sergeant, “and hold ’em.”
A minute later he reappeared accompanied by the skipper and his chief officer.
“Those are the ringleaders,” declared the captain, pointing to a big, bull-necked, low-browed fellow and a weasel-faced, shifty-eyed creature. “They started the trouble. Jones there’s the one killed the bo’sun.”
“That’s a lie!” roared the heavy man. “S’help me——”
“Silence!” roared Sergeant Manley. “Here, Campbell——”
With a quick motion, the bull-necked fellow whipped out a revolver. There was a sharp report and the mutineer plunged forward upon the deck and his gun clattered upon the planking. Campbell nonchalantly threw out the empty shell and snapped another into his carbine.
Terrified at the death of their leader, the mutineers,already frightened at the realization of their position, drew back with blanched faces while the rat-faced ringleader fell on his knees and pleaded for mercy.
“Get up!” ordered the Sergeant, and as the fellow rose a pair of handcuffs snapped upon his wrists.
“We’ll take him along with us,” announced Sergeant Manley. “Any others you want to lose, Captain?”
“I’d jolly well like to lose the whole bally lot,” replied the skipper earnestly, “but I can’t. Got to handle the ship you know.”
“Don’t think they’ll give you further trouble,” declared the Sergeant. “Have ’em searched. Keep ’em workin’ an’ carry a gun—each of you. Don’t forget you’re on a British ship and labor unions don’t go under that flag. You’re boss and let ’em know it. Expect those Yankees’ll be glad to lend you a hand with this crowd.”
Presently Captain Edwards and old Pem, with the remaining members of theNarwhal’screw, came aboard; the few belongings of the shipwrecked whalemen were stowed and preparations were made for departure.
“Think I’ll go along with you to Rowe’s Welcome,” said Sergeant Manley as the whale boats were loweredand the repentant crew prepared to tow theRubyout of the worst of the ice. “Have to report the loss of theNarwhal, and I’d like to see you safe on your way. Campbell, take the dogs and go overland.”
Then, as the brigantine moved slowly from the inlet, bumping her blunt bows into the floating ice and grinding between the cakes which went bobbing astern, the boys had their first chance to tell the story of their adventures.
“Thank heaven, this cruise is over—or near it!” cried Captain Edwards. “I’d be a nervous wreck if I had you boys to look after much longer, even if you do always come out smilin’ as a clam.”
“I’ll be b’iled if ye can’t git into more consarned scrapes’n a passel o’ monkeys!” declared Cap’n Pem. “Fast as ye’re outen one ye’re into a wusser.”
Mr. Kemp spat reflectively into the sea. “Some kids,” he remarked tersely.
At last the brigantine was clear of the shore ice, ahead stretched patches and lanes of open water, and under a light wind theRubywent bumping and crashing on her way towards Rowe’s Welcome and the stoveNarwhal.
“I suppose you men have a heap of queer adventures,” remarked Mr. Kemp as Sergeant Manleystopped for a chat. “I was mate with a chap what was in the force once, when I was on the destroyer.”
The Sergeant smiled. “Yes, we get our share,” he replied, “but most of ’em pretty much alike—runnin’ down renegades and outlaws. If any one wants plenty of exercise and out-doors air, I’ll recommend the force. To-day’s job’s the queerest I ever had yet, though. A Northwest policeman’s supposed to do most anything that turns up, but I’d never have dreamed of bein’ called on to board a ship and put down a mutiny.”
The next day theRubyworked her way past Southampton Island into the Welcome. Eagerly the boys peered ahead for the first glimpse of theNarwhaland the village of their Eskimo friends.
“It’s been a fine cruise,” declared Jim, “but it makes me feel almost sick to think of leaving the oldNarwhalhere.”
“Humph!” snorted Cap’n Pem. “Ships has got ter go sometimes—same’s folks. Reckon the Welcome’s as good a place’s any ter let her ol’ bones rest. ’Sides, ye won’t lose nothin’, Dixon had her insured ter the limit.”
“That’s not it,” said Tom. “It’s like losing an old friend. Why, you know how we’d feel if we left you or any of the others up here, Cap’n Pem.”
The old whaleman turned his head, blew his nose loudly on his red cotton handkerchief and cleared his throat. “Derned if I don’t know jes how ye feel,” he replied. “Hate fer to see a ol’ ship go myself. Wall, there ain’t no help fer it. Everlastin’ lucky we salvaged all the cargo.”
“And luckier yet theRubywas up here,” added Captain Edwards.
“Seems to me the whole trip’s been lucky—no matter what happened,” said Tom.
“Even with the cat,” laughed Jim.
“Gosh, where is she?” cried Tom. “I’d forgotten all about her and her kittens.”
“Lef’ her an’ t’others behin’,” said Cap’n Pem. “Ye didn’t think we could be a-totin’ a passel o’ cats ’long o’ us on that there sledge trip, did ye? Jes the same, I reckon I got ter take back what I said erbout her. Mebbe times has changed an’ cats is lucky now’days, what with injines an’ bumb lances an’ perlice a-puttin’ down mut’nies an’ all sech new-fangled contraptions.”
“Hurrah, you do admit it!” cried Jim. “If we keep on we’ll knock all your superstitions to pieces.”
But Cap’n Pem had not waited to hear.
A few minutes later, theRubyrounded a jutting cape and there, before them, was the well-knowncove with theNarwhal, forsaken and deserted, looming above the cakes of ice.
“Why, why—Gosh! She’s afloat!” cried Tom, hardly able to believe his eyes.
“Holy mackerel, she is!” agreed Mr. Kemp.
“I’ll be blowed!” exclaimed Captain Edwards. “By glory, we may go home in her yet!”
With wondering eyes the crew of theNarwhalgazed upon their schooner, for the ship they had left with her deck bulging above the bulwarks from the terrific pressure of the ice; the vessel whose stern had been raised high in air and that they were positive would sink to the bottom of the bay when the ice broke up, was now floating on an even keel, low in the water to be sure, but apparently sound and unhurt.
Scarcely had theRuby’sanchor dropped over before Captain Edwards, Pem, Mr. Kemp, and the boys tumbled into a boat and were pulled rapidly to theNarwhal. Grasping the main chains, Tom leaped on to the deck and as he did so a ball of black fur sprang from a coil of rope and with a friendly “meow” the ship’s cat rubbed herself against the boy’s legs.
“Hurrah!” he shouted as the others jumped on to the deck. “It’s all right, here’s the cat!”
“Waall, I’ll be everlastin’ly swizzled!” cried Cap’nPem as he looked about. “The ol’ deck’s dropped inter place. I’ll be b’iled if I think there’s a mite the matter with her!”
“Five feet of water in the hold,” announced Mr. Kemp who had been sounding the well.
“Course there is,” replied the captain. “May have sprung a leak, but if she did, it’s stopped now. If it hadn’t she’d have sunk. Reckon she dove off the ice too an’ shipped some down the for’ard hatch. Men, what do you say? Shall we take the chance and sail in the oldNarwhal?”
“Aye! aye!” responded the men in chorus. “No lime juicers for us, long’s the schooner’s a-floatin’.”
“But how—how could she be squeezed all together as she was and be all right now?” asked Tom. “Why, her deck was like a hill and her bulwarks were bent in.”
Cap’n Pem chuckled and rubbed his hands together in glee. “Didn’t I tell ye whaleships was built to las’ forever?” he cried. “Bless yer souls! what’s a mite o’ squeezin’ to a ol’ hooker like theNarwhal. I bet ye she’s a-sailin’ an’ a-crusin’ an’ a-gettin’ jammed in the ice arter you an’ me and the rest ’re dead an’ gone. Yes, sir, nothin’ like a Yankee whaleship!”
All having agreed that they would sail home intheNarwhal, the crew were transferred from theRuby. Then Sergeant Manley bade them all good luck and a quick voyage, and joining Campbell, who had arrived the day previously, he sped swiftly into the southwest towards distant Fort Churchill with his rat-faced mutineer prisoner.
With doleful shakes of his head the skipper of theRubysaid farewell, muttering something about “Yankees taking chances where no sane man would,” and hoisting sail, he headed his tubby old craft for the open sea.
Working steadily, toiling for hour after hour, the men pumped the water from theNarwhal. They labored with light hearts, for steadily they gained and when at last the pumps sucked, and the following day the sounding rod showed less than a foot of water, all knew that the schooner was tight and safe. Rapidly the long deck house was dismantled, the big foretopmast yard was sent up to the words of a rousing chantey, sails were bent on and running rigging rove. Then, like beavers, the men and the Eskimos toiled, bringing the casks of oils, the bales of whalebone, the great bundles of skins and hides, the sacks of ivory, and the countless other valuables, as well as stores and supplies, from the shore.
At last all was done. The last of the cargo wasstowed. The standing rigging was taut and well tarred. The carpenter had patched the cracked rails and bulwarks, and had relaid some of the deck planks. The motor had been overhauled and tested. The sails hung loosely in their brails and the boats were at their davits. All this had taken much time to accomplish, and the Arctic spring had come swiftly to the land. The hills and valleys showed gray and bare. The black rocks loomed above the patches of sodden snow. The ice, rotten and spongy, had almost disappeared from the bay. The Eskimos’ igloos had long since gone, and the natives were living in their skin tents once more. Far overhead in the blue sky, the long files of geese and swans winged northward; great flocks of eiders gathered on the bay; curlew and snipe filled the night air with their plaintive whistling, and the snowbirds twittered from rocks and last year’s weeds.
For the last time the boys paddled ashore in their kayak and bade farewell to Nepaluka, to Newilic, to Kemiplu, the wrinkled old story teller, and to all their Eskimo friends whom they had grown to love and respect.
Then the clank of the windlass and the rousing chantey of the men warned them it was time to leave, and swiftly they paddled to the schooner, gave afarewell wave of their hands to the crowd of Eskimos ashore, and saw their little kayak hoisted to the deck.
Oh first came the herring, the king o’ the sea,Windy weather! Stormy weather!He jumped on the poop. “I’ll be capt’n,” says he!Blow ye winds westerly, gentle sou’westerlyBlow ye winds westerly—steady she goes!
Oh first came the herring, the king o’ the sea,Windy weather! Stormy weather!He jumped on the poop. “I’ll be capt’n,” says he!Blow ye winds westerly, gentle sou’westerlyBlow ye winds westerly—steady she goes!
Oh first came the herring, the king o’ the sea,
Windy weather! Stormy weather!
He jumped on the poop. “I’ll be capt’n,” says he!
Blow ye winds westerly, gentle sou’westerly
Blow ye winds westerly—steady she goes!
Loudly the chantey rang over the bay. Loudly the Eskimos shouted and yelled as the dripping chain came in link by link, and the great anchor rose from the mud that had held it fast for half a year. Up the rigging the men sped. Quickly the huge sails were spread and sheeted home. Braces were manned, and theNarwhalslowly gathered way and the short seas splashed in spray from her forefoot. Out towards the vast reaches of the bay she sailed. Behind her, the land grew dim and faint. To a fair, stiff breeze she heeled, with every sail drawing, headed southward.
Battered by countless storms, scarred by ice, the veteran of a thousand battles with hurricanes and tempest, with crushing floes and grinding bergs, still staunch and sound, the gallant old schooner lifted her bow and plunged through the hissing green seas.
Safe within her old hold were the hard won treasuresof the Arctic; yard long icicles and masses of frozen spray draped her bobstays, her rails, and her chains. But shaking the icy brine from her decks as she reared on the crests of the waves, sliding into the great hollows, crushing ice cakes with her shearing bows, she tore onward, while at braces and halyards and sheets the men roared out that most welcome and glorious of whaleman’s songs:
Did you ever join in with those heart-ringing cheers,With your face turned to Heaven’s blue dome,As laden with riches you purchased so dearYou hoisted your topsails—bound home?
Did you ever join in with those heart-ringing cheers,With your face turned to Heaven’s blue dome,As laden with riches you purchased so dearYou hoisted your topsails—bound home?
Did you ever join in with those heart-ringing cheers,
With your face turned to Heaven’s blue dome,
As laden with riches you purchased so dear
You hoisted your topsails—bound home?
THE END
FOOTNOTES[1]SeeThe Deep Sea Hunters.[2]The Arctic Fox is the one referred to in this story.[3]The tribe of Eskimos inhabiting the vicinity of Rowe’s Welcome.
[1]SeeThe Deep Sea Hunters.
[1]SeeThe Deep Sea Hunters.
[2]The Arctic Fox is the one referred to in this story.
[2]The Arctic Fox is the one referred to in this story.
[3]The tribe of Eskimos inhabiting the vicinity of Rowe’s Welcome.
[3]The tribe of Eskimos inhabiting the vicinity of Rowe’s Welcome.