Chapter Five.Revenge by Deputy.“Better, Steve?” said the captain, giving him a friendly nod; and without waiting for his answer, he went forward to where the engineer, who had nothing to do, was talking to the mate, and then they all went below into the engine-room.One of the Norway men was at the wheel, the other sailors were in the forecastle, and there was no one to talk to; so Steve went forward, and was nearly abreast of the galley when Watty Links, the shock-headed boy, came out bearing a bucket of potato peelings and refuse, looking sour and sore, but as soon as he caught sight of Steve his face expanded into a broad grin, and, evidently in a high state of delight, he trotted to the side, turned the contents of the bucket overboard, and ran back into the galley, keeping his head averted as if to hide his mirth.The blood flushed up into Steve’s cheeks, and he turned away, walking aft to watch the grey gulls which seemed to have arrived all at once, and were flying about in quite a crowd, making darts down to the surface to seize some fragment that was floating, amidst querulous screaming and the beating of wings.It was a curious sight to see the rapidity with which a scrap of biscuit or fat was darted upon, and borne aloft by the hungry birds; but somehow in the grey cloud of feathers wheeling round and rising and falling above the glittering sea, Steve seemed to see the mocking face of Watty, who, smarting from the contempt with which he had been treated, snatched at the opportunity for triumphing over the other’s misfortune; and he could not have selected a way more likely to sting him than by a display of derision.“Verra beautiful, Meester Young, isn’t it?” said a voice, and Steve turned sharply to find it was the Scottish sailor who had approached unheard.“What, the sparkling sea, Andra?”“Nay, the burruds, sir. Look at the pretty things. It minds me o’ being in Loch Fyne, coming down from Crinan in ane o’ Meester Macbrayne’s bonnie boats on the way to Glasgie.”“Does it? I’ve never been there.”“Eh, then she ha’e lost a gran’ treat, laddie. There’s plenty o’ watter here, but never a mountain, nor a toon glinting oot o’ the shore. Look yonder, laddie; there’s a bit of a fesh.”“Porpoise!” cried Steve excitedly; “and another, and another. Why, there’s a regular shoal.”“Ay, after the herrin’, maybe, laddie. See how they come up and turn over, and dive doon again. Canny kind o’ fesh a porpoise, but they’re much finer than these in the Clyde. I’m thenking, though, that we’ll ha’e to shorten sail a wee. It means wint.”Captain Marsham was evidently of the same opinion, for coming on deck soon after he gave orders which resulted in a little of the canvas being lowered down, and theHvalrossthen steadily continued her course without sending the spray scattering in a brilliant shower over the forward part of the deck.While this was being done Steve passed the galley door again, and bit his lip, for Watty, taking advantage of the cook’s back being turned, thrust out his head as if by accident, gave a sham start as if astonished to see Steve, burst into a silent fit of laughter, which he pretended to smother, and drew his head in again.“I wonder whether it would hurt my shoulder much if I were to punch his head?” thought Steve.He walked on, feeling that he ought to treat the annoyance with contempt; but even as he felt this he could not help looking back, when he saw that Watty was watching him, but clapped his hand over his mouth and drew in his head directly.This was repeated again and again that day, as if the boy found some satisfaction for his disgrace in annoying some one of his own years. Steve pretended not to heed it; but so sure as he went forward Watty’s head was thrust out of the galley, and drawn back again, apparently to conceal the uncontrollable mirth from which the lad pretended to be suffering; while in spite of Steve’s efforts all this stung him more and more, till he felt as if he must do something by way of revenge.It was not easy, and he knew that it wasinfra digeven to show that he was annoyed, let alone attempting to “serve the boy out,” as he termed it; but the desire to give Watty some punishment for his annoyance increased.The opportunity came at last; the extent of Steve’s forbearance was at an end. He was going forward to join the four Norwegians, who were busy preparing one of the boats for their first expedition against the walrus, so that when the time came everything might be quite ready, when Watty rushed hurriedly out of the galley, turned sharply upon seeing him, burst into one of his silent fits of laughter, and hurried back through the door.It all happened in a moment, and Watty’s departure was hastened far more than he intended. There was a bound, a kick, and the boy disappeared with a crash, followed by a burst of objurgations, the sound of cuffs and blows, and a whining voice raised pitifully in appeal and explanation. But he had evidently knocked something down in his unceremonious and hasty entrance, and the irate cook was in no temper either to listen to explanations or to believe in what he immediately set down as an excuse.Steve stood listening to the struggle within, his anger gone, like the electricity in a Leyden jar, at a touch, and he was about to enter the galley and explain, when Watty rushed out, darted forward, and dived down the hatchway into the forecastle, from which place he was ignominiously fetched by the cook like some culprit arrested by a policeman; and the next time he met Steve without the faintest suggestion of a smile upon his countenance.
“Better, Steve?” said the captain, giving him a friendly nod; and without waiting for his answer, he went forward to where the engineer, who had nothing to do, was talking to the mate, and then they all went below into the engine-room.
One of the Norway men was at the wheel, the other sailors were in the forecastle, and there was no one to talk to; so Steve went forward, and was nearly abreast of the galley when Watty Links, the shock-headed boy, came out bearing a bucket of potato peelings and refuse, looking sour and sore, but as soon as he caught sight of Steve his face expanded into a broad grin, and, evidently in a high state of delight, he trotted to the side, turned the contents of the bucket overboard, and ran back into the galley, keeping his head averted as if to hide his mirth.
The blood flushed up into Steve’s cheeks, and he turned away, walking aft to watch the grey gulls which seemed to have arrived all at once, and were flying about in quite a crowd, making darts down to the surface to seize some fragment that was floating, amidst querulous screaming and the beating of wings.
It was a curious sight to see the rapidity with which a scrap of biscuit or fat was darted upon, and borne aloft by the hungry birds; but somehow in the grey cloud of feathers wheeling round and rising and falling above the glittering sea, Steve seemed to see the mocking face of Watty, who, smarting from the contempt with which he had been treated, snatched at the opportunity for triumphing over the other’s misfortune; and he could not have selected a way more likely to sting him than by a display of derision.
“Verra beautiful, Meester Young, isn’t it?” said a voice, and Steve turned sharply to find it was the Scottish sailor who had approached unheard.
“What, the sparkling sea, Andra?”
“Nay, the burruds, sir. Look at the pretty things. It minds me o’ being in Loch Fyne, coming down from Crinan in ane o’ Meester Macbrayne’s bonnie boats on the way to Glasgie.”
“Does it? I’ve never been there.”
“Eh, then she ha’e lost a gran’ treat, laddie. There’s plenty o’ watter here, but never a mountain, nor a toon glinting oot o’ the shore. Look yonder, laddie; there’s a bit of a fesh.”
“Porpoise!” cried Steve excitedly; “and another, and another. Why, there’s a regular shoal.”
“Ay, after the herrin’, maybe, laddie. See how they come up and turn over, and dive doon again. Canny kind o’ fesh a porpoise, but they’re much finer than these in the Clyde. I’m thenking, though, that we’ll ha’e to shorten sail a wee. It means wint.”
Captain Marsham was evidently of the same opinion, for coming on deck soon after he gave orders which resulted in a little of the canvas being lowered down, and theHvalrossthen steadily continued her course without sending the spray scattering in a brilliant shower over the forward part of the deck.
While this was being done Steve passed the galley door again, and bit his lip, for Watty, taking advantage of the cook’s back being turned, thrust out his head as if by accident, gave a sham start as if astonished to see Steve, burst into a silent fit of laughter, which he pretended to smother, and drew his head in again.
“I wonder whether it would hurt my shoulder much if I were to punch his head?” thought Steve.
He walked on, feeling that he ought to treat the annoyance with contempt; but even as he felt this he could not help looking back, when he saw that Watty was watching him, but clapped his hand over his mouth and drew in his head directly.
This was repeated again and again that day, as if the boy found some satisfaction for his disgrace in annoying some one of his own years. Steve pretended not to heed it; but so sure as he went forward Watty’s head was thrust out of the galley, and drawn back again, apparently to conceal the uncontrollable mirth from which the lad pretended to be suffering; while in spite of Steve’s efforts all this stung him more and more, till he felt as if he must do something by way of revenge.
It was not easy, and he knew that it wasinfra digeven to show that he was annoyed, let alone attempting to “serve the boy out,” as he termed it; but the desire to give Watty some punishment for his annoyance increased.
The opportunity came at last; the extent of Steve’s forbearance was at an end. He was going forward to join the four Norwegians, who were busy preparing one of the boats for their first expedition against the walrus, so that when the time came everything might be quite ready, when Watty rushed hurriedly out of the galley, turned sharply upon seeing him, burst into one of his silent fits of laughter, and hurried back through the door.
It all happened in a moment, and Watty’s departure was hastened far more than he intended. There was a bound, a kick, and the boy disappeared with a crash, followed by a burst of objurgations, the sound of cuffs and blows, and a whining voice raised pitifully in appeal and explanation. But he had evidently knocked something down in his unceremonious and hasty entrance, and the irate cook was in no temper either to listen to explanations or to believe in what he immediately set down as an excuse.
Steve stood listening to the struggle within, his anger gone, like the electricity in a Leyden jar, at a touch, and he was about to enter the galley and explain, when Watty rushed out, darted forward, and dived down the hatchway into the forecastle, from which place he was ignominiously fetched by the cook like some culprit arrested by a policeman; and the next time he met Steve without the faintest suggestion of a smile upon his countenance.
Chapter Six.First Perils.The next day there was something else to think about, for the arctic summer strongly resembled a temperate zone winter. The wind came in heavy gusts from the north-east; there were snow-squalls which shut them in, and on passing away left the deck an inch deep in the soft white fur, while for a time every yard, rope, and sail was covered.“Doesn’t seem much like June, eh, Steve?” said the doctor.But in the intervals between the squalls the sun came out warmly, the snow melted aloft, and was rapidly swept from the deck.Three days passed like this, during which careful, slow progress had to be made, for it was early in the year yet, and June meant a month when the ice was still packed heavily and had not had time to break up and disperse, so that in even this brief time theHvalrosshad sailed from summer back, as it were, into winter. Then the wind dropped, the sea grew calm, and the vessel lay rolling slowly in the heavy swell, apparently with night coming on, which seemed the more strange, for evening by evening it had grown lighter, and but for the clouds Steve’s great desire would have been gratified, and he would have seen the midnight sun.On this particular evening, as they lay rolling there, a dense fog had settled down upon the sea, producing the aforesaid darkness; and though this thick gloom was somewhat modified by what seemed to be a dim reflection as of light trying to force its way through, the mist was so dense that the fore part of the vessel was invisible from by the wheel, as the boy stood with the captain and Dr Handscombe waiting for the fog to lift.A man had been sent up to the crow’s-nest; but the fog was more dense there than below, and he had descended.“This means ice close by somewhere, eh, Lowe?” said the captain.“Yes, sir; I’ve been listening for it, but my ear is not keen enough to pierce this fog. Hullo! what’s the matter with the dog?”For just then the big collie began to whine and sniff about uneasily, making little snaps in the air.“His nose is sharper than your ears, then,” said the doctor. “He smells something. Can it be the land?”“No; we must be fifty or sixty miles from the nearest land,” said the captain, and the dog barked sharply.“What is it, Skeny?” cried Steve, stooping and patting the animal’s shaggy neck; “what is it, old fellow?”The dog looked up at him sharply, barked again, and ran forward to scramble up on the bowsprit, where he barked loudly, sniffing uneasily in the intervals.Two of the Norwegian sailors were forward keeping as sharp a look-out as was possible for the mist; and as Steve followed the dog he was sensible of a peculiar feeling of chill, as if an icy breath was blowing over him.Then the dog barked again a perfect volley, and in an instant Steve felt his heart stand still, for there was a whirring rush, which rose into quite a roar, mingled with the flapping and beating of wings, and the dog grew almost frantic.“What is it?” whispered Steve in awe-stricken tones.“Sea-birds,” said one of the men, calmly enough. “A big field of ice is floating by.”He had hardly spoken before there was a heavy thud against the ship’s bows, another, and then a heavy thrusting blow which made her quiver from stem to stern and careen over, while above where they stood there was the gleam of ice, a huge mass standing five or six feet above the bulwarks, against which it kept scraping and rubbing and careening the vessel over more and more.The captain shouted an order to the man at the wheel, and he rammed down the rudder, but there was hardly a breath of air, and the ship had no way on. Then running forward, Captain Marsham shouted to the men to seize hitchers, sweeps, anything, to try and thrust off the vessel from the ice-floe, but all in vain. Vessel and ice continued to grind slowly together, the ship yielding to the mighty pressure of the floe; and as every one had now rushed on deck, it seemed as if the next thing would be to lower the boats and escape before the ice rode right over theHvalrossand sank her in the icy depths.The men toiled and thrust, but their efforts were utterly without effect, for the two heavy floating bodies had an attraction one for the other, and the grinding noise continued, till it sounded to Steve as if the ice would soon work its way through the stout copper and planks; but a few minutes later three pieces of stout spar were lowered down between the vessel’s hull and the ice to be rubbed into shreds, while theHvalross, after yielding and careening over foot by foot to the tremendous, pressure, began to right herself till she floated upon an even keel.If anything the fog was now more dense, making it impossible to take any observations. All they knew was that they were changing their position as they floated steadily along in a heavy current, and that the ice which seemed to hold them fast was gradually revolving, till, from being pointed north-west, theHvalross’bowsprit was south-east.All this time, while the other sailors seemed excited and startled by the risk, the Norwegians were perfectly calm and cool, Johannes expressing his opinion that they would not hurt now, but that the vessel would hug the great floe till the wind sprang up. But Captain Marsham was not so confident of their not coming to harm grinding against an ice rock whose extent, save that it was some twenty feet above the water, it was impossible to compute; and as soon as he had convinced himself that they would not have to take to the boats, he had given orders which resulted in the rattling of iron doors and a dull roar from the engine-room, while the semi-darkness grew more dense as the grey fog-cloud began to be pervaded by another and a blacker cloud, which poured out of the funnel and then spread itself around in the calm, dense air, till the branches, as it were, of some huge tree, of which the vessel’s funnel was the stem, were spread overhead, giving the gleaming ice a peculiarly weird look. For the engineer and his two assistants were hard at work trying to get up steam—a long and tedious task under the circumstances.Very little was said, very little heard but the roar of the furnace; but every now and then the pieces of spar creaked and groaned with the pressure upon them, and twice over there was a sharp splitting sound and a splash as a huge piece of the floe fell away, raising such a wave that theHvalrossswayed over as she rose and fell.Captain Marsham paced the deck anxiously, and Steve had the doctor for companion, but they only spoke in whispers of the risk they ran.“What I fear is,” said the latter, “that with this grinding together a great piece may split off and fall over upon our deck.”“Not high enough,” said Steve decisively. “If a piece did break away, it could only give us a heavy push, and might do good.”But, all the same, as he spoke he felt that he would rather that good were not done, and contrived that in their walks about the deck they should be able to peer down into the engine-room, where the men were stoking and raking the fire to make it roar more fiercely, knowing, as they did, that once they could get up steam a very few turns of the screw would back them away from their icy enemy and make all safe.“The first taste of the perils of the arctic sea, Steve,” said the doctor quietly. “What would it have been if we had been going full speed and struck on this mass of ice!”“We shouldn’t have been going full speed,” replied Steve confidently,—“not in a fog; and I suppose we should have had some warning, as we did a little while ago.”“Little while ago!” said the doctor; “it was hours!”The intense excitement of the time had made it seem so short.And all the while the roar of the fire kept on, the great tree of smoke spread more and more over the cold mist and darkened the air, till it appeared as if they were going to have real night once more instead of the light into which they had sailed. But still the steam was not available, and after one long grinding crash Captain Marsham gave orders which resulted in bags of biscuit, tins of meat, and casks of water being placed in the two largest boats; after which, as if from a sudden thought, he ordered some blankets to be added.“I say,” whispered Steve to the doctor, after watching these proceedings for some time, “how long will it take us to row to the nearest port?”“To Hammerfest, my lad? Don’t ask me.”There was another grinding, rending noise, as the great ice-floe revolved slowly in one direction and the current bore the vessel against it in another; and as these sounds arose Steve felt a strange oppression at the chest, and it ached where Johannes had seized him, and his wrenched shoulder began to throb. For it was as if the ice was stripping the planking of the ship from the timbers, and the boy listened for the sound of rushing water making its way below. But on going to the side and looking over, he could see the pieces of wood which had been lowered down between the vessel’s hull and the ice being ground up and torn into fibres, while the ice kept splintering away from the edge of the floe, where in the foggy gloom the fragments looked of a dirty-white against the black, solid mass.Steve tried to be calm and composed, but at such a time it was impossible; and with the natural desire to find some one to whom he could talk and with whom he could find companionship, he looked round to see that the doctor had joined the mate, and that the captain was on the bridge pacing anxiously to and fro and communicating with the engineer from time to time.He glanced at the sailors, and they all but one were waiting to obey the instructions they received, and were ready with spars and ropes to lower fresh material down! for the ice-floe to grind up against the vessel’s side.The only man not busy was Andrew McByle, and Steve hurried to him.“Think we shall get off safely, Andra?” he whispered, as a piece of one of the spars gave forth a dismal, groaning sound which vibrated through every nerve.“No. She was thenking aboot my pipes, laddie. The skipper’s certain to mak’ a fuss gin I tak’ them wi’ me in the boat.”“Then you think we shall have to take to the boats?” said Steve excitedly.“Ay, laddie; what else can we do? There’s nae wint, not eneuch to turn a weather-cock upon a kirk, and there’s nae steam. Piff wi’ all your talk aboot the engines to use when there’s nae wint! Where are they the noo?”“But they’ll soon have the steam up now, Andra.”“I dinna believe it. She’s fashed wi’ your new-fangled rubbish; all weel eneuch in fine weather, but when she want it the puir feckless mairsheennary isn’t there.”“But you can hear the fire roaring.”“Ay, she can hear the great flaming thing burning oop mair coal and mair coal; but it isna fire we want, laddie, but steam.”“Yes, it is a long time,” sighed Steve. “Do you think we must take to the boats?”“Ay, laddie; if I were skipper I’d joost hae plenty o’ food and claes pit upon the ice, and camp there wi’ the boats hanging on aboot. We could tak’ to them when the ice was a’ melted doon, an’—”“Here, hi! lend a hand, my lad!” shouted the mate, and Andrew trotted off, leaving Steve more low-spirited than ever.For it seemed so terrible, just on the threshold of an exciting voyage, in which he had painted to himself plenty of sport and adventure, ending in the discovery of his uncle and the men who had been his companions. All had gone wrong, and he felt that they would have to accept their failure, and try to get back to the nearest Norwegian port, a terribly dangerous journey in an open boat.And now, more than ever, he felt the want of some companionship, and, with a feeling of regret, he thought of the one nearest to him in years.“They’re all men,” he said to himself, “and I’m only a boy. They don’t think about me. Wish I hadn’t kicked poor old Watty.”As he thought this he walked to the door of the galley and looked in, to find that the cook was rating the boy of whom he had been thinking.“What!” he was saying; “want to go and be ready to take to the boats? You stay where you are till you’re wanted. They won’t leave us behind. Such a fuss about getting up a bit of steam; why, I’d have made that water boil an hour ago if I’d had it to do. They don’t know how to manage it!”“Ow—!”This was a dismal beginning of a howl from Watty.“Here, stop that, you miserable Highland calf! You’ve got breeches on, so I suppose you’re a boy! Do you suppose an English lad would make that row? I’ll be bound to say Mr Steve Young’s somewhere aft, with his hands in his pockets as usual, looking on as cool as a cucumber.”“Na, he’s a cooard!” cried Watty viciously,—“a lang, ugly cooard! Makking a show o’ gooing up aloft, and all the time had to be held on.”“You’d better not let him hear you say that, my lad, or he’ll thrash you.”“Yah! not he!” whined the boy. “He’s a cooard, that’s what he is; and he’s on deck waiting to be ane of the fust to go off in the boots, and I’m kep’ doon here.”“Stop that row!” cried the cook viciously.“I canna, I canna! Awm thenking aboot my mither!”“Bo! you great goose! And nice and proud your mither’ must be of such a booby.”“But I dinna want to be drooned!” sobbed Watty.“Then what are you drooning yourself for in hot water? It don’t improve you a bit, only shows white streaks on your dirty face. Look here, if you don’t stop that noise, I’ll tell the captain when we take to the boats that you’re not worth saving, and then he’ll leave you behind.”“Tell him to leave him behind!” whined Watty. “He’s no good.”“Listeners never hear any good of themselves,” said Steve to himself as he walked aft, and then made for the way down to the engine-room. “But do I always have my hands in my pockets?”In spite of the cold, darkness, danger, and dread the boy could not help smiling at himself and the force of habit; for at that moment there was a heavy shock caused by a loose mass of ice striking the vessel just on her sharp stem, and startled into the belief that something terrible was about to happen, Steve answered the question he had just asked himself about his hands by snatching them from his pockets to lay hold of the vessel’s side. Then as he looked over and saw the piece of ice—a large fragment that must have been many tons in weight—grinding along by the vessel’s side, he could not help laughing, while directly after a thrill of delight shot through him and the men sent up a cheer. For a communication had passed between the captain and the engine-room as a loud hissing noise was heard; and then, as an order was shouted to the man at the wheel, theHvalrossquivered in every timber with a peculiar vibration.The steam was up at last; the fans of the propeller were spinning round and churning up the icy water, and theHvalrossbacked away from the dangerous position.“There, Andra!” cried Steve, as he approached the man who had just hauled up one of the wooden fenders ground down into a mass of ragged fibres, “what do you say to the steam now?”“Joost naething, laddie. I’d hae done it better wi’ hairf a capfu’ o’ wint.”“But there was no wind!” cried Steve.“Nae, there was nae wint. But it’s a blessing we’re awa frae the ice, for it would hae maist broke my hairt to hae left my pipes ahint.”
The next day there was something else to think about, for the arctic summer strongly resembled a temperate zone winter. The wind came in heavy gusts from the north-east; there were snow-squalls which shut them in, and on passing away left the deck an inch deep in the soft white fur, while for a time every yard, rope, and sail was covered.
“Doesn’t seem much like June, eh, Steve?” said the doctor.
But in the intervals between the squalls the sun came out warmly, the snow melted aloft, and was rapidly swept from the deck.
Three days passed like this, during which careful, slow progress had to be made, for it was early in the year yet, and June meant a month when the ice was still packed heavily and had not had time to break up and disperse, so that in even this brief time theHvalrosshad sailed from summer back, as it were, into winter. Then the wind dropped, the sea grew calm, and the vessel lay rolling slowly in the heavy swell, apparently with night coming on, which seemed the more strange, for evening by evening it had grown lighter, and but for the clouds Steve’s great desire would have been gratified, and he would have seen the midnight sun.
On this particular evening, as they lay rolling there, a dense fog had settled down upon the sea, producing the aforesaid darkness; and though this thick gloom was somewhat modified by what seemed to be a dim reflection as of light trying to force its way through, the mist was so dense that the fore part of the vessel was invisible from by the wheel, as the boy stood with the captain and Dr Handscombe waiting for the fog to lift.
A man had been sent up to the crow’s-nest; but the fog was more dense there than below, and he had descended.
“This means ice close by somewhere, eh, Lowe?” said the captain.
“Yes, sir; I’ve been listening for it, but my ear is not keen enough to pierce this fog. Hullo! what’s the matter with the dog?”
For just then the big collie began to whine and sniff about uneasily, making little snaps in the air.
“His nose is sharper than your ears, then,” said the doctor. “He smells something. Can it be the land?”
“No; we must be fifty or sixty miles from the nearest land,” said the captain, and the dog barked sharply.
“What is it, Skeny?” cried Steve, stooping and patting the animal’s shaggy neck; “what is it, old fellow?”
The dog looked up at him sharply, barked again, and ran forward to scramble up on the bowsprit, where he barked loudly, sniffing uneasily in the intervals.
Two of the Norwegian sailors were forward keeping as sharp a look-out as was possible for the mist; and as Steve followed the dog he was sensible of a peculiar feeling of chill, as if an icy breath was blowing over him.
Then the dog barked again a perfect volley, and in an instant Steve felt his heart stand still, for there was a whirring rush, which rose into quite a roar, mingled with the flapping and beating of wings, and the dog grew almost frantic.
“What is it?” whispered Steve in awe-stricken tones.
“Sea-birds,” said one of the men, calmly enough. “A big field of ice is floating by.”
He had hardly spoken before there was a heavy thud against the ship’s bows, another, and then a heavy thrusting blow which made her quiver from stem to stern and careen over, while above where they stood there was the gleam of ice, a huge mass standing five or six feet above the bulwarks, against which it kept scraping and rubbing and careening the vessel over more and more.
The captain shouted an order to the man at the wheel, and he rammed down the rudder, but there was hardly a breath of air, and the ship had no way on. Then running forward, Captain Marsham shouted to the men to seize hitchers, sweeps, anything, to try and thrust off the vessel from the ice-floe, but all in vain. Vessel and ice continued to grind slowly together, the ship yielding to the mighty pressure of the floe; and as every one had now rushed on deck, it seemed as if the next thing would be to lower the boats and escape before the ice rode right over theHvalrossand sank her in the icy depths.
The men toiled and thrust, but their efforts were utterly without effect, for the two heavy floating bodies had an attraction one for the other, and the grinding noise continued, till it sounded to Steve as if the ice would soon work its way through the stout copper and planks; but a few minutes later three pieces of stout spar were lowered down between the vessel’s hull and the ice to be rubbed into shreds, while theHvalross, after yielding and careening over foot by foot to the tremendous, pressure, began to right herself till she floated upon an even keel.
If anything the fog was now more dense, making it impossible to take any observations. All they knew was that they were changing their position as they floated steadily along in a heavy current, and that the ice which seemed to hold them fast was gradually revolving, till, from being pointed north-west, theHvalross’bowsprit was south-east.
All this time, while the other sailors seemed excited and startled by the risk, the Norwegians were perfectly calm and cool, Johannes expressing his opinion that they would not hurt now, but that the vessel would hug the great floe till the wind sprang up. But Captain Marsham was not so confident of their not coming to harm grinding against an ice rock whose extent, save that it was some twenty feet above the water, it was impossible to compute; and as soon as he had convinced himself that they would not have to take to the boats, he had given orders which resulted in the rattling of iron doors and a dull roar from the engine-room, while the semi-darkness grew more dense as the grey fog-cloud began to be pervaded by another and a blacker cloud, which poured out of the funnel and then spread itself around in the calm, dense air, till the branches, as it were, of some huge tree, of which the vessel’s funnel was the stem, were spread overhead, giving the gleaming ice a peculiarly weird look. For the engineer and his two assistants were hard at work trying to get up steam—a long and tedious task under the circumstances.
Very little was said, very little heard but the roar of the furnace; but every now and then the pieces of spar creaked and groaned with the pressure upon them, and twice over there was a sharp splitting sound and a splash as a huge piece of the floe fell away, raising such a wave that theHvalrossswayed over as she rose and fell.
Captain Marsham paced the deck anxiously, and Steve had the doctor for companion, but they only spoke in whispers of the risk they ran.
“What I fear is,” said the latter, “that with this grinding together a great piece may split off and fall over upon our deck.”
“Not high enough,” said Steve decisively. “If a piece did break away, it could only give us a heavy push, and might do good.”
But, all the same, as he spoke he felt that he would rather that good were not done, and contrived that in their walks about the deck they should be able to peer down into the engine-room, where the men were stoking and raking the fire to make it roar more fiercely, knowing, as they did, that once they could get up steam a very few turns of the screw would back them away from their icy enemy and make all safe.
“The first taste of the perils of the arctic sea, Steve,” said the doctor quietly. “What would it have been if we had been going full speed and struck on this mass of ice!”
“We shouldn’t have been going full speed,” replied Steve confidently,—“not in a fog; and I suppose we should have had some warning, as we did a little while ago.”
“Little while ago!” said the doctor; “it was hours!”
The intense excitement of the time had made it seem so short.
And all the while the roar of the fire kept on, the great tree of smoke spread more and more over the cold mist and darkened the air, till it appeared as if they were going to have real night once more instead of the light into which they had sailed. But still the steam was not available, and after one long grinding crash Captain Marsham gave orders which resulted in bags of biscuit, tins of meat, and casks of water being placed in the two largest boats; after which, as if from a sudden thought, he ordered some blankets to be added.
“I say,” whispered Steve to the doctor, after watching these proceedings for some time, “how long will it take us to row to the nearest port?”
“To Hammerfest, my lad? Don’t ask me.”
There was another grinding, rending noise, as the great ice-floe revolved slowly in one direction and the current bore the vessel against it in another; and as these sounds arose Steve felt a strange oppression at the chest, and it ached where Johannes had seized him, and his wrenched shoulder began to throb. For it was as if the ice was stripping the planking of the ship from the timbers, and the boy listened for the sound of rushing water making its way below. But on going to the side and looking over, he could see the pieces of wood which had been lowered down between the vessel’s hull and the ice being ground up and torn into fibres, while the ice kept splintering away from the edge of the floe, where in the foggy gloom the fragments looked of a dirty-white against the black, solid mass.
Steve tried to be calm and composed, but at such a time it was impossible; and with the natural desire to find some one to whom he could talk and with whom he could find companionship, he looked round to see that the doctor had joined the mate, and that the captain was on the bridge pacing anxiously to and fro and communicating with the engineer from time to time.
He glanced at the sailors, and they all but one were waiting to obey the instructions they received, and were ready with spars and ropes to lower fresh material down! for the ice-floe to grind up against the vessel’s side.
The only man not busy was Andrew McByle, and Steve hurried to him.
“Think we shall get off safely, Andra?” he whispered, as a piece of one of the spars gave forth a dismal, groaning sound which vibrated through every nerve.
“No. She was thenking aboot my pipes, laddie. The skipper’s certain to mak’ a fuss gin I tak’ them wi’ me in the boat.”
“Then you think we shall have to take to the boats?” said Steve excitedly.
“Ay, laddie; what else can we do? There’s nae wint, not eneuch to turn a weather-cock upon a kirk, and there’s nae steam. Piff wi’ all your talk aboot the engines to use when there’s nae wint! Where are they the noo?”
“But they’ll soon have the steam up now, Andra.”
“I dinna believe it. She’s fashed wi’ your new-fangled rubbish; all weel eneuch in fine weather, but when she want it the puir feckless mairsheennary isn’t there.”
“But you can hear the fire roaring.”
“Ay, she can hear the great flaming thing burning oop mair coal and mair coal; but it isna fire we want, laddie, but steam.”
“Yes, it is a long time,” sighed Steve. “Do you think we must take to the boats?”
“Ay, laddie; if I were skipper I’d joost hae plenty o’ food and claes pit upon the ice, and camp there wi’ the boats hanging on aboot. We could tak’ to them when the ice was a’ melted doon, an’—”
“Here, hi! lend a hand, my lad!” shouted the mate, and Andrew trotted off, leaving Steve more low-spirited than ever.
For it seemed so terrible, just on the threshold of an exciting voyage, in which he had painted to himself plenty of sport and adventure, ending in the discovery of his uncle and the men who had been his companions. All had gone wrong, and he felt that they would have to accept their failure, and try to get back to the nearest Norwegian port, a terribly dangerous journey in an open boat.
And now, more than ever, he felt the want of some companionship, and, with a feeling of regret, he thought of the one nearest to him in years.
“They’re all men,” he said to himself, “and I’m only a boy. They don’t think about me. Wish I hadn’t kicked poor old Watty.”
As he thought this he walked to the door of the galley and looked in, to find that the cook was rating the boy of whom he had been thinking.
“What!” he was saying; “want to go and be ready to take to the boats? You stay where you are till you’re wanted. They won’t leave us behind. Such a fuss about getting up a bit of steam; why, I’d have made that water boil an hour ago if I’d had it to do. They don’t know how to manage it!”
“Ow—!”
This was a dismal beginning of a howl from Watty.
“Here, stop that, you miserable Highland calf! You’ve got breeches on, so I suppose you’re a boy! Do you suppose an English lad would make that row? I’ll be bound to say Mr Steve Young’s somewhere aft, with his hands in his pockets as usual, looking on as cool as a cucumber.”
“Na, he’s a cooard!” cried Watty viciously,—“a lang, ugly cooard! Makking a show o’ gooing up aloft, and all the time had to be held on.”
“You’d better not let him hear you say that, my lad, or he’ll thrash you.”
“Yah! not he!” whined the boy. “He’s a cooard, that’s what he is; and he’s on deck waiting to be ane of the fust to go off in the boots, and I’m kep’ doon here.”
“Stop that row!” cried the cook viciously.
“I canna, I canna! Awm thenking aboot my mither!”
“Bo! you great goose! And nice and proud your mither’ must be of such a booby.”
“But I dinna want to be drooned!” sobbed Watty.
“Then what are you drooning yourself for in hot water? It don’t improve you a bit, only shows white streaks on your dirty face. Look here, if you don’t stop that noise, I’ll tell the captain when we take to the boats that you’re not worth saving, and then he’ll leave you behind.”
“Tell him to leave him behind!” whined Watty. “He’s no good.”
“Listeners never hear any good of themselves,” said Steve to himself as he walked aft, and then made for the way down to the engine-room. “But do I always have my hands in my pockets?”
In spite of the cold, darkness, danger, and dread the boy could not help smiling at himself and the force of habit; for at that moment there was a heavy shock caused by a loose mass of ice striking the vessel just on her sharp stem, and startled into the belief that something terrible was about to happen, Steve answered the question he had just asked himself about his hands by snatching them from his pockets to lay hold of the vessel’s side. Then as he looked over and saw the piece of ice—a large fragment that must have been many tons in weight—grinding along by the vessel’s side, he could not help laughing, while directly after a thrill of delight shot through him and the men sent up a cheer. For a communication had passed between the captain and the engine-room as a loud hissing noise was heard; and then, as an order was shouted to the man at the wheel, theHvalrossquivered in every timber with a peculiar vibration.
The steam was up at last; the fans of the propeller were spinning round and churning up the icy water, and theHvalrossbacked away from the dangerous position.
“There, Andra!” cried Steve, as he approached the man who had just hauled up one of the wooden fenders ground down into a mass of ragged fibres, “what do you say to the steam now?”
“Joost naething, laddie. I’d hae done it better wi’ hairf a capfu’ o’ wint.”
“But there was no wind!” cried Steve.
“Nae, there was nae wint. But it’s a blessing we’re awa frae the ice, for it would hae maist broke my hairt to hae left my pipes ahint.”
Chapter Seven.The Lonely Isle.With the steam up the captain’s task became easier; but it was dangerous work in that dense fog, and some hours of nervous navigation followed amongst the ice-floes, which gathered round them of all sizes, from masses which went spinning away at a touch from the iron prow of theHvalrossto huge fields acres in extent, broken away from the icy barrier to the northward, to be carried by the current south into the warm waters, where they would gradually melt away. So heavy were some of the shocks received, in spite of all watchfulness, care, and orders to go astern, that Captain Marsham was at one time for following the example of the drifting floes and going south. But there was the knowledge that somewhere, not far from where they were creeping along, the almost unknown island of Jan Mayen must lie; and it seemed a pity to leave it now, when the first time the sun appeared they would be able to learn their position for certain; so he held on.“I’ve lost count,” said Steve at last. “Is it to-day or to-morrow? The clock says it’s eleven; but is it eleven to-night or eleven to-morrow morning?”“Eleven to-night, sir, if you like to call it so,” said Johannes. “We’re up so far north now that the sun never sets for months.”“Never rises, you mean. Where is he?”“You’ll see soon, when the fog lifts.”“But will it break up?”“Of course, sir. Wait a bit, and it will be all hot sunshine, and always day.”“Go aloft now, my lad,” said Captain Marsham; “the fog seems to be thinner higher up. You may be able to get an observation.”Johannes started for the main shrouds, and Steve saw the captain’s beard, all covered with moisture from the mist, twitch as if he were laughing.“At me,” thought the lad; and the captain evidently divined his idea, for he said quietly:“Wait a bit, Steve, till you get a little more confidence. You would be certain to feel nervous if you went aloft now.”“I wish he’d forget all about that,” muttered the lad.A minute later there was the loud snap of the cask bottom falling into its place, and the captain hailed the Norseman.“Clearer there?”“Just a wee bit, sir,” came from up in the clouds.“Make out anything?”“Can’t see the length of the ship, sir; but I can hear breakers quite plain.”“Silence!” cried the captain, and, to use the familiar expression, a pin might have been heard to drop on the deck.“I can hear nothing,” said the captain softly. “Can you, my boy?”Steve listened for some time.“No, sir, not a sound.”“We can hear nothing below. Try once more.”Again there was silence for a few moments, and then, sounding muffled and strange from the invisible man in the thick cloud, which made even the main-yard look indistinct, came:“Breakers, sir, quite plain, away on the starboard bow.”“On ice or rock?”“So faint, sir, I can’t tell yet.”A couple of hours later the low, murmurous roar could be heard from the deck by listening attentively; but it was impossible to say whether it was caused by breakers on a rocky coast, which might be that of Jan Mayen, or by the sea beating on the vast icy barrier lying to the north, near which the officers felt that they must be. So the engine was slowed till the rate of progress was deemed to be sufficient to keep the vessel from drifting south, and then they waited for the first breathings of the wind which would break up the dense mist that shut them in, chilly, wet, and horribly depressing; and night and day seemed to Steve always the same, just as if they had sailed into a latitude where everything was Welsh flannel in a state of solution.This lasted for many hours, during which time Johannes ascended to the crow’s-nest again and again, and then one of his companions took his turn.He had hardly reached his lofty perch, when it seemed to Steve on the deck that the noise of the breakers suddenly grew louder, and he was about to say so when there was a shout from aloft.“Fog’s lifting, sir.”And then, as if it were a magical change, the mist overhead grew opalescent, then lighter still, as there was a warm breath of air sweeping over the dingy, murky sea. At that moment the dull, distant murmur of water beating against an obstacle grew louder, as the fog rolled away from the ship off to the north, and five minutes later the crew burst into a loud cheer; for, flashing from the waters and dazzling their eyes, the sun burst through the now iridescent mist, and so quickly that it was hard to realise the truth that astern, and to southward, the sea was sparkling like some wondrous stretch of sapphire blue, while the yards, stays, and ropes of the ship, which were hung with great mist-drops, glittered like diamonds in the glorious light.The change was indeed wonderful, and, feeling as if he must climb up somewhere and shout, and then that he should like to run to the door of the galley and shake hands with Watty Links, Steve drew in long, deep breaths of soft, warm air. But he neither shouted nor shook hands with the cook’s boy, for he stood with Captain Marsham and the doctor, waiting for the explanation of the heavy, increasing roar which came from somewhere behind the vast curtain of mist which lay drifting to the north-west, a couple of hundred yards on the starboard bow, and rising up to the skies, now one glorious span of silver and gold.They had not long to wait, for the fog was gliding away fast before the soft, summer wind.All at once the blue water stretching from them to the foot of the mist began to look white, a minute later it could be seen to be in wild commotion, and in another minute to north and south there lay, not more than a mile away, a wave-beaten beach, upon which the blue waves beat and fell back in dazzling silver and diamond spray with a tremendous roar.But there was plenty yet to see; for, as the mist reached the shore, it seemed to grow more dense, and began to roll in great clouds up some vast slope, and then higher and higher, revealing a long, narrow beach; then a line of chaotic rocks, which had fallen from above; then higher and higher, cliff upon cliff, weather-beaten to a hundred hues; and up above these again, towering mountains; lastly, as if to give the culminating beauty to the scene, the clouds rolled away from one tremendous peak, attended by a score of minor heights, crowned with dazzling ice and snow, vivid and beautiful in the glorious summer sun.“That’s worth some trouble to come and see!” said Captain Marsham.“Worth trouble?” cried Steve, whose heart was swelling with delight and the words he wanted to say. “Oh!”That ejaculation contained all. It was very short, but it meant everything; and it was some time before he woke up to the knowledge of what he was gazing at and what was being done.It was with quite a start that he turned on being touched upon the shoulder, and found Dr Handscombe at his side.“Well, Steve boy,” said the doctor, “what do you think of Jan Mayen?”“Is this Jan Mayen—the island?”“Yes.”“Beautiful! lovely! What a place to live in!”“Delightful!” said the doctor drily. “Not a tree hardly a green thing, eternal ice and snow!”“Oh, but it’s dazzling, lovely!”“Yes, when the mist’s off it,” said the doctor.“And it is not quite off that mountain.”“Yes, quite off. That smoke you are looking at is from a volcano.”“And shall we land and explore it?”“I hope so.”“When?”“That depends on the captain. I hope to spend a few good days there.”“And do you thinktheyare here?”“Impossible to say yet,” said the doctor. “If our friends have taken refuge here, it will be on this southern shore, where they could get most sunshine; but I can see no signal flying, no sign of a wreck. But there, I daresay Captain Marsham will run close in for us to explore.”By this time the mist had been driven back so far that they saw, opening before them, white and glistening in the sunshine like a band of silver stretching beyond the floe, the ice of the polar ocean. It was miles away to north, to east, and west, and apparently only a few feet above the sea, that, strain their eyes as they would, there was always the floe offering itself as a barrier to stay further progress in that direction.To their left, and extending toward the north, there was the island; but apparently, too, it did not go very far in the latter direction, but trended round, as if that were the termination of the island. Southward they could not make out its extent.“Well, Handscombe, what do you say to landing and examining the wreck?”It was the captain who spoke, and the doctor and Steve both echoed his last word.“Wreck?”“Yes; didn’t you see it. There, high up yonder, this side of the sharp point which runs out to the east. I daresay that was the cause of the wreck. Here, take the glass.”He handed his telescope to the doctor, who made a long inspection, and then passed it to Steve, who took it with hands trembling from eagerness to view what was in all probability the remains of his uncle’s vessel, whose return had been so anxiously awaited all through the past winter, but in the spring given up as being ice-bound somewhere in the north.Yes, there was the hull of a good-sized ship fast on the rocks, and with decks ripped up by the waves, so that, as the vessel lay over on its port side, Steve could peer with the glass right into the hold between the deck beams. There was the stump of the bowsprit pointing upward toward the stony cliffs, but the masts were completely gone, and an ugly gap in the port side suggested that it would not be long before the timbers quite disappeared.Steve handed the glass back with a sigh, and his face contracted.“No, no; don’t look like that,” said the captain gently; “we don’t know that this is theIce Blink.”“You are saying that to comfort me,” replied the boy sadly. “It must be.”“Why?”“You said it was possible that they might have made for Jan Mayen and been frozen up there.”“I did.”“Well, there is the vessel,” said Steve piteously.“How do you know?”The boy looked at him almost angrily, and pointed to the wreck, as if there was the answer to the question.“That is not satisfactory proof. I have been looking hard, but the stern is battered away, and there is no name. It may be any one of the hundreds of boats that sailed north during the past ten years, or a derelict brought up by the current and washed ashore.”But Steve shook his head.“Ah! you are determined to take the worst view of it, my lad,” said the captain kindly. “Even if it is the wreck of theIce Blink, Steve, my boy, they must have had plenty of stores and timber, and we may find them with a snug cabin built up, and all well and hearty.”“You think so?” cried Steve eagerly.“I do not say I think so, my boy. I say it is possible, if—mindif—that is the wreck of theIce Blink.”“Of course,” said the doctor encouragingly, as he used his glass. “They may be up one of those gullies in some sheltered spot inland.”“No,” said the captain decisively; “I doubt very much whether there are any sheltered spots inland. To me it seems as if the whole of the interior is one icy desert. Look at that gully, Handscombe, there to the right. A regular alpine glacier running nearly down to the shore.”“Yes; but still there may be sheltered valleys.”“Of course; but it strikes me that if we find our friends it will be somewhere along the narrow stretch of shore. But we’ll see.”“What are you going to do, sir—land?” cried Steve eagerly.“Yes, when we can find a landing-place. No boat could get ashore here. We’ll go gently along to the north, and keep a good look-out both for them and a sheltered cove.”And, giving the necessary orders, theHvalrossbegan to glide slowly in toward the wreck, with a man in the chains heaving the lead, and always finding deep water till they were quite close in to where the surf beat heavily with its deafening roar upon the rocks.A boat was in readiness for landing an exploring party, with guns and spears in case of game being met with, or, as the doctor pleasantly put it, a polar bear should come down prepared to make game of them.Even when close in there was nothing visible about the wreck which indicated its name or the port to which it belonged, and, the course being altered, they steamed along at a safe distance from the rocks, carefully scanning the shore and the cliffs right up to where the ice and snow lay thickly. But there was no sign of human habitation, no signal, no living creature but the sea-birds, which flew about the face of the cliffs in flocks, looking in places as thick as the flakes in a snow-squall, shrieking, whistling, and circling round to gaze down at the strange visitors to their solitude.Seen from the vessel, a more lovely spot could not be imagined; its beauty was dazzling; and Steve’s spirits rose as he felt that if the captain and crew of theIce Blinkhad escaped safely from the wreck, they had found a glorious island in which to make their sojourn.He said something of the kind to Captain Marsham, but there was a saddened look and a shake of the head.“Heavenly-looking, Steve, my boy,” he said, “with the blue sea and sky, the silvered rocks, and the lovely greys, reds, and browns of the cliffs; but don’t you see why it is so beautiful? Once this glorious sunshine is blotted out by a cloud, and you have before you a terrible spot—desolate, sterile, storm-swept. Fancy what it must be when the arctic night, with its months of darkness, sets in!”Steve was silent, and his heart sank for the time, as he saw the truth of the captain’s words; but there was hope still waiting to assert itself: he had his glass in his hand, with which he swept the shore as they steamed on mile after mile, till all at once he uttered a shout.“What is it?” said the captain, for the boy was pointing to where there was a perfect wilderness of rocks stretching down from the cliffs to the sea.“Some one! Look! There he goes! He is trying to get down to the sea to hail us.”Steve had seen the moving figure with the naked eye, and his hands trembled so with excitement that he could not adjust his glass.“A bear—a monster,” said the captain, who was gazing through his.“A bear in an island?” said the doctor in a tone of doubt; and Steve, whose hopes had been cast down by this announcement, felt his spirits rise again.“An island? Yes,” said the captain; “but an island hemmed in on two or three sides by the ice. Look, we are close to the pack which touches it on the north. We can get no farther this way, and I daresay that the channel between the island and Greenland is one solid floe. Yes, that’s a fine bear; and look, there is its mate.”Steve shaded his eyes and gazed shoreward, to see the second bear slowly rise up on its hind legs, looking in the distance wonderfully like some human being, watching the vessel gliding slowly along over the clear water.“You will land and have a try for the bears?” said the doctor; and at another time Steve would have felt all eagerness to be of the party; but he was disappointed, and his eyes were wandering over the shore, which suddenly ended and gave place to ice.“Where shall we land?” said the captain quietly. “No boat can get ashore amongst these breakers, and we can go no farther north. It will be deep water right up to the floe, so we will go close to it in case there is a passage between it and the land. But I doubt it; and our friends yonder will save their skins unless we can land south and come up to them along the shore.”“Then you think they have come over the ice?”“Of course; just as reindeer do from other regions hundreds of miles away.”They steamed on, passing the bears, which, after watching them for a time as if feeling their security, went on searching among the rock pools and crevices for food. A quarter of an hour later the engine was slowed; five minutes later it was stopped, and theHvalrosslay in the crystal water at the foot of a perpendicular ice cliff ten or fifteen feet high, wonderfully regular at the top, and extending straight to the land on one side, where it met the high rocky cliffs. On their right it stretched away, as far as the telescopes could help them to see, an impassable icy barrier, shutting off all ships from further progress to the north.“You see,” said the captain, “we cannot land here, and we can go no farther till the ice breaks up or opens out in channels.”“Don’t you think a boat could land just there, sir, where the sea is calmer?” said Steve, who felt a strange attraction to the shore.Captain Marsham did not answer, but stood looking in the direction pointed out by Steve, where for a few moments the shore did look quiet; the next minute a heavy swell glided slowly in, rose, curled over, and deluged the shore with white water.“Do you want me to answer your question, Steve?” he said at last. “That breaker was at least ten feet high. Do you think a boat could live there?”“No,” said Steve sorrowfully. “But you will try to the south, sir?”“Of course, my lad,” was the reply; and the engine was reversed, theHvalrossbacking away from the glittering ice cliff, in which the waves were working gigantic honeycombs of the most delicate sapphire blue, in and out of which the waters raced and made strange sucking and splashing sounds, peculiarly suggestive of savage sea monsters gliding in and out and playing amidst the icy caverns. Then, with her head to the south, she glided swiftly back, retracing the ground already passed over, leaving the bears still busy amongst the rocks, too much engrossed to give them even a passing look; and soon after they were once more abreast of the wreck, and gliding south, but with the engine slowed once more and the man in the chains busy with the lead.
With the steam up the captain’s task became easier; but it was dangerous work in that dense fog, and some hours of nervous navigation followed amongst the ice-floes, which gathered round them of all sizes, from masses which went spinning away at a touch from the iron prow of theHvalrossto huge fields acres in extent, broken away from the icy barrier to the northward, to be carried by the current south into the warm waters, where they would gradually melt away. So heavy were some of the shocks received, in spite of all watchfulness, care, and orders to go astern, that Captain Marsham was at one time for following the example of the drifting floes and going south. But there was the knowledge that somewhere, not far from where they were creeping along, the almost unknown island of Jan Mayen must lie; and it seemed a pity to leave it now, when the first time the sun appeared they would be able to learn their position for certain; so he held on.
“I’ve lost count,” said Steve at last. “Is it to-day or to-morrow? The clock says it’s eleven; but is it eleven to-night or eleven to-morrow morning?”
“Eleven to-night, sir, if you like to call it so,” said Johannes. “We’re up so far north now that the sun never sets for months.”
“Never rises, you mean. Where is he?”
“You’ll see soon, when the fog lifts.”
“But will it break up?”
“Of course, sir. Wait a bit, and it will be all hot sunshine, and always day.”
“Go aloft now, my lad,” said Captain Marsham; “the fog seems to be thinner higher up. You may be able to get an observation.”
Johannes started for the main shrouds, and Steve saw the captain’s beard, all covered with moisture from the mist, twitch as if he were laughing.
“At me,” thought the lad; and the captain evidently divined his idea, for he said quietly:
“Wait a bit, Steve, till you get a little more confidence. You would be certain to feel nervous if you went aloft now.”
“I wish he’d forget all about that,” muttered the lad.
A minute later there was the loud snap of the cask bottom falling into its place, and the captain hailed the Norseman.
“Clearer there?”
“Just a wee bit, sir,” came from up in the clouds.
“Make out anything?”
“Can’t see the length of the ship, sir; but I can hear breakers quite plain.”
“Silence!” cried the captain, and, to use the familiar expression, a pin might have been heard to drop on the deck.
“I can hear nothing,” said the captain softly. “Can you, my boy?”
Steve listened for some time.
“No, sir, not a sound.”
“We can hear nothing below. Try once more.”
Again there was silence for a few moments, and then, sounding muffled and strange from the invisible man in the thick cloud, which made even the main-yard look indistinct, came:
“Breakers, sir, quite plain, away on the starboard bow.”
“On ice or rock?”
“So faint, sir, I can’t tell yet.”
A couple of hours later the low, murmurous roar could be heard from the deck by listening attentively; but it was impossible to say whether it was caused by breakers on a rocky coast, which might be that of Jan Mayen, or by the sea beating on the vast icy barrier lying to the north, near which the officers felt that they must be. So the engine was slowed till the rate of progress was deemed to be sufficient to keep the vessel from drifting south, and then they waited for the first breathings of the wind which would break up the dense mist that shut them in, chilly, wet, and horribly depressing; and night and day seemed to Steve always the same, just as if they had sailed into a latitude where everything was Welsh flannel in a state of solution.
This lasted for many hours, during which time Johannes ascended to the crow’s-nest again and again, and then one of his companions took his turn.
He had hardly reached his lofty perch, when it seemed to Steve on the deck that the noise of the breakers suddenly grew louder, and he was about to say so when there was a shout from aloft.
“Fog’s lifting, sir.”
And then, as if it were a magical change, the mist overhead grew opalescent, then lighter still, as there was a warm breath of air sweeping over the dingy, murky sea. At that moment the dull, distant murmur of water beating against an obstacle grew louder, as the fog rolled away from the ship off to the north, and five minutes later the crew burst into a loud cheer; for, flashing from the waters and dazzling their eyes, the sun burst through the now iridescent mist, and so quickly that it was hard to realise the truth that astern, and to southward, the sea was sparkling like some wondrous stretch of sapphire blue, while the yards, stays, and ropes of the ship, which were hung with great mist-drops, glittered like diamonds in the glorious light.
The change was indeed wonderful, and, feeling as if he must climb up somewhere and shout, and then that he should like to run to the door of the galley and shake hands with Watty Links, Steve drew in long, deep breaths of soft, warm air. But he neither shouted nor shook hands with the cook’s boy, for he stood with Captain Marsham and the doctor, waiting for the explanation of the heavy, increasing roar which came from somewhere behind the vast curtain of mist which lay drifting to the north-west, a couple of hundred yards on the starboard bow, and rising up to the skies, now one glorious span of silver and gold.
They had not long to wait, for the fog was gliding away fast before the soft, summer wind.
All at once the blue water stretching from them to the foot of the mist began to look white, a minute later it could be seen to be in wild commotion, and in another minute to north and south there lay, not more than a mile away, a wave-beaten beach, upon which the blue waves beat and fell back in dazzling silver and diamond spray with a tremendous roar.
But there was plenty yet to see; for, as the mist reached the shore, it seemed to grow more dense, and began to roll in great clouds up some vast slope, and then higher and higher, revealing a long, narrow beach; then a line of chaotic rocks, which had fallen from above; then higher and higher, cliff upon cliff, weather-beaten to a hundred hues; and up above these again, towering mountains; lastly, as if to give the culminating beauty to the scene, the clouds rolled away from one tremendous peak, attended by a score of minor heights, crowned with dazzling ice and snow, vivid and beautiful in the glorious summer sun.
“That’s worth some trouble to come and see!” said Captain Marsham.
“Worth trouble?” cried Steve, whose heart was swelling with delight and the words he wanted to say. “Oh!”
That ejaculation contained all. It was very short, but it meant everything; and it was some time before he woke up to the knowledge of what he was gazing at and what was being done.
It was with quite a start that he turned on being touched upon the shoulder, and found Dr Handscombe at his side.
“Well, Steve boy,” said the doctor, “what do you think of Jan Mayen?”
“Is this Jan Mayen—the island?”
“Yes.”
“Beautiful! lovely! What a place to live in!”
“Delightful!” said the doctor drily. “Not a tree hardly a green thing, eternal ice and snow!”
“Oh, but it’s dazzling, lovely!”
“Yes, when the mist’s off it,” said the doctor.
“And it is not quite off that mountain.”
“Yes, quite off. That smoke you are looking at is from a volcano.”
“And shall we land and explore it?”
“I hope so.”
“When?”
“That depends on the captain. I hope to spend a few good days there.”
“And do you thinktheyare here?”
“Impossible to say yet,” said the doctor. “If our friends have taken refuge here, it will be on this southern shore, where they could get most sunshine; but I can see no signal flying, no sign of a wreck. But there, I daresay Captain Marsham will run close in for us to explore.”
By this time the mist had been driven back so far that they saw, opening before them, white and glistening in the sunshine like a band of silver stretching beyond the floe, the ice of the polar ocean. It was miles away to north, to east, and west, and apparently only a few feet above the sea, that, strain their eyes as they would, there was always the floe offering itself as a barrier to stay further progress in that direction.
To their left, and extending toward the north, there was the island; but apparently, too, it did not go very far in the latter direction, but trended round, as if that were the termination of the island. Southward they could not make out its extent.
“Well, Handscombe, what do you say to landing and examining the wreck?”
It was the captain who spoke, and the doctor and Steve both echoed his last word.
“Wreck?”
“Yes; didn’t you see it. There, high up yonder, this side of the sharp point which runs out to the east. I daresay that was the cause of the wreck. Here, take the glass.”
He handed his telescope to the doctor, who made a long inspection, and then passed it to Steve, who took it with hands trembling from eagerness to view what was in all probability the remains of his uncle’s vessel, whose return had been so anxiously awaited all through the past winter, but in the spring given up as being ice-bound somewhere in the north.
Yes, there was the hull of a good-sized ship fast on the rocks, and with decks ripped up by the waves, so that, as the vessel lay over on its port side, Steve could peer with the glass right into the hold between the deck beams. There was the stump of the bowsprit pointing upward toward the stony cliffs, but the masts were completely gone, and an ugly gap in the port side suggested that it would not be long before the timbers quite disappeared.
Steve handed the glass back with a sigh, and his face contracted.
“No, no; don’t look like that,” said the captain gently; “we don’t know that this is theIce Blink.”
“You are saying that to comfort me,” replied the boy sadly. “It must be.”
“Why?”
“You said it was possible that they might have made for Jan Mayen and been frozen up there.”
“I did.”
“Well, there is the vessel,” said Steve piteously.
“How do you know?”
The boy looked at him almost angrily, and pointed to the wreck, as if there was the answer to the question.
“That is not satisfactory proof. I have been looking hard, but the stern is battered away, and there is no name. It may be any one of the hundreds of boats that sailed north during the past ten years, or a derelict brought up by the current and washed ashore.”
But Steve shook his head.
“Ah! you are determined to take the worst view of it, my lad,” said the captain kindly. “Even if it is the wreck of theIce Blink, Steve, my boy, they must have had plenty of stores and timber, and we may find them with a snug cabin built up, and all well and hearty.”
“You think so?” cried Steve eagerly.
“I do not say I think so, my boy. I say it is possible, if—mindif—that is the wreck of theIce Blink.”
“Of course,” said the doctor encouragingly, as he used his glass. “They may be up one of those gullies in some sheltered spot inland.”
“No,” said the captain decisively; “I doubt very much whether there are any sheltered spots inland. To me it seems as if the whole of the interior is one icy desert. Look at that gully, Handscombe, there to the right. A regular alpine glacier running nearly down to the shore.”
“Yes; but still there may be sheltered valleys.”
“Of course; but it strikes me that if we find our friends it will be somewhere along the narrow stretch of shore. But we’ll see.”
“What are you going to do, sir—land?” cried Steve eagerly.
“Yes, when we can find a landing-place. No boat could get ashore here. We’ll go gently along to the north, and keep a good look-out both for them and a sheltered cove.”
And, giving the necessary orders, theHvalrossbegan to glide slowly in toward the wreck, with a man in the chains heaving the lead, and always finding deep water till they were quite close in to where the surf beat heavily with its deafening roar upon the rocks.
A boat was in readiness for landing an exploring party, with guns and spears in case of game being met with, or, as the doctor pleasantly put it, a polar bear should come down prepared to make game of them.
Even when close in there was nothing visible about the wreck which indicated its name or the port to which it belonged, and, the course being altered, they steamed along at a safe distance from the rocks, carefully scanning the shore and the cliffs right up to where the ice and snow lay thickly. But there was no sign of human habitation, no signal, no living creature but the sea-birds, which flew about the face of the cliffs in flocks, looking in places as thick as the flakes in a snow-squall, shrieking, whistling, and circling round to gaze down at the strange visitors to their solitude.
Seen from the vessel, a more lovely spot could not be imagined; its beauty was dazzling; and Steve’s spirits rose as he felt that if the captain and crew of theIce Blinkhad escaped safely from the wreck, they had found a glorious island in which to make their sojourn.
He said something of the kind to Captain Marsham, but there was a saddened look and a shake of the head.
“Heavenly-looking, Steve, my boy,” he said, “with the blue sea and sky, the silvered rocks, and the lovely greys, reds, and browns of the cliffs; but don’t you see why it is so beautiful? Once this glorious sunshine is blotted out by a cloud, and you have before you a terrible spot—desolate, sterile, storm-swept. Fancy what it must be when the arctic night, with its months of darkness, sets in!”
Steve was silent, and his heart sank for the time, as he saw the truth of the captain’s words; but there was hope still waiting to assert itself: he had his glass in his hand, with which he swept the shore as they steamed on mile after mile, till all at once he uttered a shout.
“What is it?” said the captain, for the boy was pointing to where there was a perfect wilderness of rocks stretching down from the cliffs to the sea.
“Some one! Look! There he goes! He is trying to get down to the sea to hail us.”
Steve had seen the moving figure with the naked eye, and his hands trembled so with excitement that he could not adjust his glass.
“A bear—a monster,” said the captain, who was gazing through his.
“A bear in an island?” said the doctor in a tone of doubt; and Steve, whose hopes had been cast down by this announcement, felt his spirits rise again.
“An island? Yes,” said the captain; “but an island hemmed in on two or three sides by the ice. Look, we are close to the pack which touches it on the north. We can get no farther this way, and I daresay that the channel between the island and Greenland is one solid floe. Yes, that’s a fine bear; and look, there is its mate.”
Steve shaded his eyes and gazed shoreward, to see the second bear slowly rise up on its hind legs, looking in the distance wonderfully like some human being, watching the vessel gliding slowly along over the clear water.
“You will land and have a try for the bears?” said the doctor; and at another time Steve would have felt all eagerness to be of the party; but he was disappointed, and his eyes were wandering over the shore, which suddenly ended and gave place to ice.
“Where shall we land?” said the captain quietly. “No boat can get ashore amongst these breakers, and we can go no farther north. It will be deep water right up to the floe, so we will go close to it in case there is a passage between it and the land. But I doubt it; and our friends yonder will save their skins unless we can land south and come up to them along the shore.”
“Then you think they have come over the ice?”
“Of course; just as reindeer do from other regions hundreds of miles away.”
They steamed on, passing the bears, which, after watching them for a time as if feeling their security, went on searching among the rock pools and crevices for food. A quarter of an hour later the engine was slowed; five minutes later it was stopped, and theHvalrosslay in the crystal water at the foot of a perpendicular ice cliff ten or fifteen feet high, wonderfully regular at the top, and extending straight to the land on one side, where it met the high rocky cliffs. On their right it stretched away, as far as the telescopes could help them to see, an impassable icy barrier, shutting off all ships from further progress to the north.
“You see,” said the captain, “we cannot land here, and we can go no farther till the ice breaks up or opens out in channels.”
“Don’t you think a boat could land just there, sir, where the sea is calmer?” said Steve, who felt a strange attraction to the shore.
Captain Marsham did not answer, but stood looking in the direction pointed out by Steve, where for a few moments the shore did look quiet; the next minute a heavy swell glided slowly in, rose, curled over, and deluged the shore with white water.
“Do you want me to answer your question, Steve?” he said at last. “That breaker was at least ten feet high. Do you think a boat could live there?”
“No,” said Steve sorrowfully. “But you will try to the south, sir?”
“Of course, my lad,” was the reply; and the engine was reversed, theHvalrossbacking away from the glittering ice cliff, in which the waves were working gigantic honeycombs of the most delicate sapphire blue, in and out of which the waters raced and made strange sucking and splashing sounds, peculiarly suggestive of savage sea monsters gliding in and out and playing amidst the icy caverns. Then, with her head to the south, she glided swiftly back, retracing the ground already passed over, leaving the bears still busy amongst the rocks, too much engrossed to give them even a passing look; and soon after they were once more abreast of the wreck, and gliding south, but with the engine slowed once more and the man in the chains busy with the lead.
Chapter Eight.Disappointment.There was no fear of being overtaken by the darkness of night, for the sun shone brilliantly, as if to make up for the long dreary time that it was hidden from the face of the earth; and its genial warmth had so great an effect upon the spirits of the men that they were all alert and eager for action, watching the shore intently for traces of the crew of the wrecked vessel, and for a break in the tremendous waves where a boat could get to shore in safety. Even the dog partook of the general feeling of exhilaration, rushing frantically about the deck, charging at the sailors open-mouthed, with his frill set up round his neck, and when apparently about to seize them thrusting his muzzle down close to the deck and rolling over and over.They glided on as near to the line of breakers as it was safe, the steam giving Captain Marsham such complete control over the movements of the vessel that Steve pointed out the fact triumphantly to Andrew McByle.“Ay,” he said, “she’s ferry goot in her way, the hot watter, but gie me sails. Where wad she pe if ta fire went oot?”“And where wad she pe if ta wind went doon?” cried Steve, out of patience with the man’s obstinacy.“Tat’s ferry pad language, Meester Steve Young, sir. Ton’t you try to imitate ta gran’ Gaelic tongue, pecause she can never to it. She’d have to pe porn north o’ Glasgie to speak ta gran’ Gaelic tongue proper.”“Then you shouldn’t be so obstinate,” said Steve, somewhat abashed.“Call that dog down, my lad,” cried the captain, “or he’ll be overboard!”For Skene had leaped up on the bowsprit, made his way from there on to the bulwarks, and was running along the top wherever it was clear of rope or shroud, barking with all his might at the astonished birds which came wheeling round the ship, swooping so low at times that they nearly brushed the dog with their long grey wings, making him snap at them vainly.But the intense excitement produced by the change to warmth and sunshine seemed to border on a kind of rollicking madness; and bubbling over with fun Skene turned quite mutinous, barking as if derisively in response to every call, and evading Steve as he chased him, the boy running along the deck and making dashes at the dog, who avoided him by his superior activity, till, getting at last quite close, Steve made a snatch at his quarry’s hind leg and grasped it firmly. Almost at the same instant Skene made a bound, dragged his leg away, and came down in a double astride upon the top of the bulwark, tried to recover himself, got upon his legs, again slipped, nearly went overboard, but saved himself by another leap, and came down upon the deck flop. Before he could get up Steve was upon him, holding by the long hair of the animal’s neck. Then there was a sharp struggle, in which the boy won, and Skene turned his head round, looked up in his master’s face, and uttered a pitiful howl, the cry and the way in which it was uttered seeming so wonderfully human and so thoroughly to express the dog’s ideas, “Oh, what a shame, when I was enjoying myself so!” that Steve burst into a fit of laughing.“C’ssss! Bite him then,” came from the door of the galley, and Steve looked sharply round to see Watty’s head just outside the door, and the movement made him slacken his hold of the dog.Wuph!One deep utterance, half growl, half bark. Skene was free, and Steve on his side, while the dog charged right at Watty, striking the door heavily with his fore paws, as the cook’s new assistant snatched his head inside and pulled the door to.“Serve you right!” muttered Steve, gaining his feet. “Quiet, Skeny! Down!”For the dog was gazing up at the spot where Watty’s head had disappeared, and growling fiercely.The next moment Watty appeared at the window.“I’ll tell the skipper ye sat the tyke at me!” cried the boy.“If you don’t behave yourself I will!” retorted Steve; and then patting Skene’s head he walked away, the dog, quite sobered now, following him, muttering in growls, and looking back now and then at the galley, whose door was softly opened, and a hand protruded holding a piece of cold salt meat.Skene saw it, and hesitated. Then he stopped short, and Watty whistled and wriggled the piece of meat about. That was too much for any animal. Meat is meat after all, and to keep him healthy Skene had been dieted a good deal upon biscuit. He was only a dog, and rushing back, he snatched the piece in his trap-like jaws.“Poor fellow, then; poor old Skene!” whispered Watty. But he might as well have whispered his soothing words to the winds, for the dog only uttered a low growl and trotted back to his master, who was once more eagerly scanning the coast.But it was always very much the same: heavy breakers tumbling over to a chain of rocks—foaming, rushing, falling back, and swinging to and fro till fresh help came from the tide, and they gathered themselves for a fresh assault. Beyond the waves a more or less narrow line of shore, and then cliff, and above that mountainous heights glittering with ice and snow, and here and there in some opening a frozen river looking as if it were rushing headlong down to the sea, but hanging there solid, save for a little rill which trickled forth from a cavern of celestial blue at its foot.They steamed on for hours quite slowly, rounding the southern shore, and then further progress was stayed, for, once more, there before them was the low cliff of ice, extending apparently right up behind the island, and connecting it with the mainland. Ice everywhere now, and another mountain, emitting a faint film of smoke.“No sign of human being on the shore: all that journey southward for nothing,” said the doctor.“One can hardly call it for nothing, eh, Steve?” said the captain. “We have satisfied ourselves pretty well that our friends are not here.”“But they may be inland beyond those cliffs, sir!” cried the boy.“Maybe, Steve, my lad,” said the captain sadly; “but as far as we can make out there is no chance for a human being to exist there. Any one wrecked in such an inhospitable place would certainly have taken to a sheltered spot under the cliffs, where he would be protected from the coldest winds. Aloft there!”“Ay, ay, sir!”“What do you make out over the cliffs there to westward and north?”“Ice and snow, sir,” came for answer from the crow’s-nest.“No good land?”“No, sir. All ice and snow piled up higher and higher. There’s that frozen river goes winding up right into the mountains.”“No place for a camp?”“No, sir; not as far as I can see.”These were the quiet, sober words of Johannes, who was aloft once more, armed with a telescope.“Any opening where we could land on the ice-floe?” cried Captain Marsham.“No, sir,” came back after a time; “nothing here. Any boat would be stove in directly.”“What shall you do now?” said the doctor; and Steve listened eagerly for the reply.“’Bout ship and coast up again, then follow the edge of the ice away to the north and east. But we’ll keep close in, as we know the water is deep. We may, perhaps, find a landing-place which we have missed coming down.”Another look round was given, and they began to steam north once more.
There was no fear of being overtaken by the darkness of night, for the sun shone brilliantly, as if to make up for the long dreary time that it was hidden from the face of the earth; and its genial warmth had so great an effect upon the spirits of the men that they were all alert and eager for action, watching the shore intently for traces of the crew of the wrecked vessel, and for a break in the tremendous waves where a boat could get to shore in safety. Even the dog partook of the general feeling of exhilaration, rushing frantically about the deck, charging at the sailors open-mouthed, with his frill set up round his neck, and when apparently about to seize them thrusting his muzzle down close to the deck and rolling over and over.
They glided on as near to the line of breakers as it was safe, the steam giving Captain Marsham such complete control over the movements of the vessel that Steve pointed out the fact triumphantly to Andrew McByle.
“Ay,” he said, “she’s ferry goot in her way, the hot watter, but gie me sails. Where wad she pe if ta fire went oot?”
“And where wad she pe if ta wind went doon?” cried Steve, out of patience with the man’s obstinacy.
“Tat’s ferry pad language, Meester Steve Young, sir. Ton’t you try to imitate ta gran’ Gaelic tongue, pecause she can never to it. She’d have to pe porn north o’ Glasgie to speak ta gran’ Gaelic tongue proper.”
“Then you shouldn’t be so obstinate,” said Steve, somewhat abashed.
“Call that dog down, my lad,” cried the captain, “or he’ll be overboard!”
For Skene had leaped up on the bowsprit, made his way from there on to the bulwarks, and was running along the top wherever it was clear of rope or shroud, barking with all his might at the astonished birds which came wheeling round the ship, swooping so low at times that they nearly brushed the dog with their long grey wings, making him snap at them vainly.
But the intense excitement produced by the change to warmth and sunshine seemed to border on a kind of rollicking madness; and bubbling over with fun Skene turned quite mutinous, barking as if derisively in response to every call, and evading Steve as he chased him, the boy running along the deck and making dashes at the dog, who avoided him by his superior activity, till, getting at last quite close, Steve made a snatch at his quarry’s hind leg and grasped it firmly. Almost at the same instant Skene made a bound, dragged his leg away, and came down in a double astride upon the top of the bulwark, tried to recover himself, got upon his legs, again slipped, nearly went overboard, but saved himself by another leap, and came down upon the deck flop. Before he could get up Steve was upon him, holding by the long hair of the animal’s neck. Then there was a sharp struggle, in which the boy won, and Skene turned his head round, looked up in his master’s face, and uttered a pitiful howl, the cry and the way in which it was uttered seeming so wonderfully human and so thoroughly to express the dog’s ideas, “Oh, what a shame, when I was enjoying myself so!” that Steve burst into a fit of laughing.
“C’ssss! Bite him then,” came from the door of the galley, and Steve looked sharply round to see Watty’s head just outside the door, and the movement made him slacken his hold of the dog.
Wuph!
One deep utterance, half growl, half bark. Skene was free, and Steve on his side, while the dog charged right at Watty, striking the door heavily with his fore paws, as the cook’s new assistant snatched his head inside and pulled the door to.
“Serve you right!” muttered Steve, gaining his feet. “Quiet, Skeny! Down!”
For the dog was gazing up at the spot where Watty’s head had disappeared, and growling fiercely.
The next moment Watty appeared at the window.
“I’ll tell the skipper ye sat the tyke at me!” cried the boy.
“If you don’t behave yourself I will!” retorted Steve; and then patting Skene’s head he walked away, the dog, quite sobered now, following him, muttering in growls, and looking back now and then at the galley, whose door was softly opened, and a hand protruded holding a piece of cold salt meat.
Skene saw it, and hesitated. Then he stopped short, and Watty whistled and wriggled the piece of meat about. That was too much for any animal. Meat is meat after all, and to keep him healthy Skene had been dieted a good deal upon biscuit. He was only a dog, and rushing back, he snatched the piece in his trap-like jaws.
“Poor fellow, then; poor old Skene!” whispered Watty. But he might as well have whispered his soothing words to the winds, for the dog only uttered a low growl and trotted back to his master, who was once more eagerly scanning the coast.
But it was always very much the same: heavy breakers tumbling over to a chain of rocks—foaming, rushing, falling back, and swinging to and fro till fresh help came from the tide, and they gathered themselves for a fresh assault. Beyond the waves a more or less narrow line of shore, and then cliff, and above that mountainous heights glittering with ice and snow, and here and there in some opening a frozen river looking as if it were rushing headlong down to the sea, but hanging there solid, save for a little rill which trickled forth from a cavern of celestial blue at its foot.
They steamed on for hours quite slowly, rounding the southern shore, and then further progress was stayed, for, once more, there before them was the low cliff of ice, extending apparently right up behind the island, and connecting it with the mainland. Ice everywhere now, and another mountain, emitting a faint film of smoke.
“No sign of human being on the shore: all that journey southward for nothing,” said the doctor.
“One can hardly call it for nothing, eh, Steve?” said the captain. “We have satisfied ourselves pretty well that our friends are not here.”
“But they may be inland beyond those cliffs, sir!” cried the boy.
“Maybe, Steve, my lad,” said the captain sadly; “but as far as we can make out there is no chance for a human being to exist there. Any one wrecked in such an inhospitable place would certainly have taken to a sheltered spot under the cliffs, where he would be protected from the coldest winds. Aloft there!”
“Ay, ay, sir!”
“What do you make out over the cliffs there to westward and north?”
“Ice and snow, sir,” came for answer from the crow’s-nest.
“No good land?”
“No, sir. All ice and snow piled up higher and higher. There’s that frozen river goes winding up right into the mountains.”
“No place for a camp?”
“No, sir; not as far as I can see.”
These were the quiet, sober words of Johannes, who was aloft once more, armed with a telescope.
“Any opening where we could land on the ice-floe?” cried Captain Marsham.
“No, sir,” came back after a time; “nothing here. Any boat would be stove in directly.”
“What shall you do now?” said the doctor; and Steve listened eagerly for the reply.
“’Bout ship and coast up again, then follow the edge of the ice away to the north and east. But we’ll keep close in, as we know the water is deep. We may, perhaps, find a landing-place which we have missed coming down.”
Another look round was given, and they began to steam north once more.
Chapter Nine.The Wreck Ashore.A coast could never have been more eagerly scanned than was that of this island, for every man of the crew was longing for a run ashore in search of some little adventure to break the monotony of the life on board; and again and again, as a seal was seen to slip off the rocks after staring at them for a while with its peculiar, half human countenance, or a flock of sea-birds was passed, the men looked disappointed that no efforts were made to harpoon the one or shoot the other. But as far as landing was concerned, the heavy waves which foamed among the craggy masses thoroughly precluded that, and at last they neared the wreck once more, looking as grim and desolate as ever. Steve had just turned his glass to examine the snow near the top of the volcano where the smoke was issuing, and was wondering why it did not melt, when Jakobsen, the principal harpooner of the Norwegian party, gave a shout and pointed shoreward and forward.“Yes, what is it?” cried Captain Marsham.“Landing-place, sir.”There it was, surely enough, hidden from them as they came south, but plain to view now at the back of a huge mass of rock which acted as a breakwater; and there, in quite a recess, was a patch of yellow sand, over which the sea glided gently, while behind the rock the water seemed to be deep and still.Five minutes after the engine was stopped, the boat lowered, and the captain, doctor, Steve, and a strong crew jumped in, leaving Mr Lowe in charge, the dog leaping in last of all. A short row, for the most part balanced on the top of a great roller gliding shoreward to break on the rocks, and then a smart pull to the right, and they were behind the great rock, riding gently on deep crystal-like water. Fifty yards farther the boat was beached on the thick sand, drawn up, and the party set off, climbing over the tumbled-together rocks to reach the more level ground and make straight for the wreck, which lay some quarter of a mile to the north.The captain took a sharp look round, and then suggested loading the heavy double guns he, the doctor, and Steve carried, the right bore with the heaviest shot, the rifled barrel with bullet.One of the men carried a spare rifle, and Johannes and Jakobsen each shouldered a heavy walrus lance, a terrible weapon in the hands of a strong man, with its stout pole about nine feet long and keen leaf-shaped blade, so that they felt themselves more than a match for any polar bear which might show itself in front.“Gun heavy, Steve?” said the captain.“Eh? Yes—no! I don’t know,” he replied; “I had not thought about the weight.”“Which means, I suppose, that you were thinking of having a shot at a bear.”“Well, yes, sir; I was thinking of something of the kind,” said Steve, colouring.“You must be careful, then. I will not say do not fire, my lad; but a gun is a dangerous weapon in unskilled hands, as dangerous sometimes for the people round as for the quarry in front.”“I’ll take care, sir,” said Steve, in a tone full of confidence.The captain turned and looked at him sharply.“I’d rather you had said, ‘I’ll try to take care.’”“Snubbed,” thought Steve. “Why, of course I shall take care. Does he think I shall shoot one of the men?”He had other things to think of a few minutes later, for there before them, as they toiled on over the rocks and sand, with the breakers thundering away just to their right, lay the wreck, making them all hasten their pace, which gradually increased until it was a run, Steve at last leading, in spite of the weight of the heavy gun, and reaching the stranded vessel many yards in front of the doctor, who was next.“I forgot all about the bears,” said the latter, giving a sharp look round with his gun ready.But there was nothing in sight but a great gull floating gently along over the breaking waves, and looking down eagerly for anything edible cast up by the sea.Then the rest came up, and they looked round the vessel, lying quite firmly wedged in the rocks, one of them having pierced its bottom, making a gap, through which the sand had made its way till it was half filled.The bows were examined and then the stern, but everything bearing the vessel’s name and the port from which she sailed had been swept away, save two letters—two E’s on the starboard side, just below the stern cabin window.“Do you think it is theIce Blink, sir?” said Steve in an awe-stricken whisper; for in spite of the bright sunshine and dazzling blue of sea and sky, there was something so weird and grim about the loose, torn, shattered wreck that the boy felt as if it were impossible to speak aloud.“No,” said the captain decidedly; and in an instant the sight of the torn timbers seemed less terrible, and the pictures Steve was calling up of his uncle and crew lying somewhere about buried in the sand faded away.As the captain gave vent to that decisive utterance he climbed on board, and stood up on the stones and sand which filled the angle between the bulwarks and the sloping deck.“What do you say she is, Johannes?” cried the captain to the sturdy Norseman, who stood leaning on the shaft of his great spear.“Whaler, sir, and been here for three or four years,” replied the man.“Yes, I thought it was not a last season’s wreck. E—E,” he said thoughtfully; “where can she be from?”“Dundee!” cried Steve quickly.“Good. Of course, a Dundee whaler,” said Captain Marsham. “That brings to an end all idea of theIce Blinkcoming to grief here. But let’s see; we may find traces of the poor fellows who were wrecked;” and after a look at the remains of the broken masts, the huge cavern-like hollow ripped in the deck, where tons upon tons of sand were lying as it had been tossed in during storms, he led the way aft to the cabin; but there was little to see there. The windows had been battered in by the stones and pieces of rock hurled at them by the waves; but two of the dead-lights, which had been evidently closed during the storm in which the vessel was wrecked, were still held in their places. As for the cabin itself, the contents had been torn and beaten away through a huge gap on one side of the rudder, which reached upward to the deck, and nothing remained of locker or berth that could give any trace of the crew. From here they went forward to the forecastle, the hatch of which gaped widely open; and as they stood below it at the bottom of the sloping deck, Steve felt a strange sensation of shrinking, and as if he would prefer to leave any secrets which the cabin might hide in peace. Captain Marsham felt, too, something of the kind, and he said a few words in a low voice to the doctor.“Yes,” replied the latter, “perhaps so, poor fellows; but we ought to see.”That was enough to suggest to Steve the possibility of the remains of the crew being below, just as they had died of cold, perhaps of starvation. The desire to leave the deck increased, but he tried to brace himself together, and listened as the doctor said:“Shall I go?”“No,” replied the captain; and taking hold of the hatch he drew himself up to it and peered down; then handing his gun to Steve, he lowered himself down feet first and disappeared, while the rest stood watching the square opening and listening intently.“Rather dark,” came up from the forecastle, and they heard the sharp scratching sound made by the striking of a match.“No one here. Plenty of sand drifted right in.”Another match was struck, and then, after the short period one of the little tapers would take to burn out, the captain’s hands appeared and he climbed out.“Nothing whatever,” he said. “No trace of a soul, and everything has been cleared out; not so much as a blanket left.”“That looks as if the crew must have stripped the vessel, and built themselves a place somewhere inland.”“Or on the shore,” said the captain. “No; I fancy that this vessel was forsaken long ago. Her crew must have taken to the boats, and let us hope that they all escaped across to Hammerfest, or some other port.”“Will you search any further?” asked Steve. “There is nothing to search for here, my boy,” replied the captain; “but we will have a tramp forward, and see if any traces have been left of hut or signal-post, though I feel certain that no one is here.”The doctor looked doubtful, and Steve felt glad, for he thought the captain was taking matters too coolly.“Well,” continued that gentleman, turning to the doctor, “supposing that it was your misfortune to be cast ashore on this desolate place, what would be the first thing you would try to do?”“Try to get away,” replied the doctor, smiling. “Exactly; and if you had no means of getting away, would you not hoist a flag on some prominent place where it would be seen by a passing vessel?”“Of course.”“Where is the spar, then, hoisted on the cliff?” The doctor shook his head, and Steve gazed up and along the top of the long, level height, which looked like a mighty rampart at the foot of a snowy pyramid.“Here, what do you say, Johannes? You have had plenty of experience of sea life. Where is the crew of this schooner?”The man shook his head and smiled. “Who knows, sir?” he said. “I don’t think they ever landed here. It was a deserted ship when it came ashore.”“Why do you say that?” said the doctor sharply. “I see nothing, sir: no timbers or spars dragged up the beach; not a sign of anything having been moored.”At that moment the dog, which had followed them, quietly waiting for the first shot to be fired, when his task of retrieving the game would begin, uttered an uneasy whimper and cocked his ears.“Quiet, Skeny! What is it?” said Steve, stooping to pat him. “Only getting impatient.”“Yes,” said the captain, “and we may as well move on. No, doctor, there is nobody to search for, so let’s take a tramp for a few miles, try and pick up a few wild fowl, and get back on board. Eh? you have something to say, Jakobsen?” he continued, as he caught the second Norwegian’s eye.“Only that I think as Johannes does, sir, that you are right. She was a forsaken vessel when she struck there.”“Forward, then,” cried the captain, shouldering his gun; and they dropped down on to the drift of sand below her, walked round by the bow, and, keeping a sharp look-out for game, tramped away northward, but bearing for the cliff, where at one point a glacier came right down, and at its foot the snow lay in a long slope; not soft, flocculent snow fresh fallen, but a collection of hard pellets, more resembling a gigantic heap of the remains seen after a very heavy hail-storm. But it was suggestive to Skene of the mountain-side far away beyond the Clyde at home, and with a sharp bark he dashed at it, thrust his nose in the cool, rounded fragments, and then cast himself upon his side to plough his way through them, sniffling and snuffling the while, as if he were trying to find snow-buried sheep after a winter’s gale.“Goot tog, goot tog,” muttered Andrew, who carried the spare rifle, and he shifted it from one shoulder to the other. “Ah, laddie,” he whispered to Steve, “how it ’minds me o’ bonnie Scotland.”They tramped on, noting flock after flock, thousands upon thousands in fact, of sea-birds, sitting in rows upon the ledges of the cliffs many of them, while others flew seaward, wheeling round and retiring; so plentiful were they—auks, puffins, guillemots, and tern—that the men might easily have been loaded with the spoil. But these birds were not tempting from a food point of view; and though Steve was anxious for a trial, the captain had no mind to stop while the boy ran risks by climbing to the ledges in search of the eggs that no doubt were there in thousands; so they kept on, looking vainly for ducks or geese.“There,” said the captain at last, “we have nothing to gain by tramping along here. We know that if we keep on we shall come to the ice cliff, and be turned back. It is impossible to get up here and go inward without chipping a way up that glacier, to find more snow, so let’s go back.”“Without a single bird?” cried the doctor in a disappointed tone.“Well, another hundred yards or so, then,” said the captain; “but I don’t think we shall get anything. We want the mouth of a river or a lagoon from which the ice has just melted.”“What’s the matter with the dog?” said Steve suddenly, after they had walked on for another ten minutes; for Skene had suddenly seemed as if he had conceived it to be his duty to turn himself into as near a resemblance to an arctic wolf as he possibly could. His ears were laid back, his eyes lurid, his teeth bared, and the thick ruff above his neck and shoulders set up, bristling and waving as if swept by a strong current of air.“Look out, gentlemen; he scents game,” whispered Johannes.“Stop!” said the captain. “It was near here that we saw the bears.”“No, no, a mile farther,” said the doctor.At that moment Skene growled savagely, and from behind a pile of grey rocks some fifty yards to their right a large animal suddenly rushed out, turned and stared at them for a moment or two, and then shuffled off at a lumbering trot, going rapidly over the rough ground in the direction of the ice.“Don’t fire! don’t fire!” cried the captain. “A stern shot would only injure without killing the poor brute. Let him go.”“My word!” cried the doctor as he lowered his gun; “but he is a fine one.”Steve, too, had eagerly raised his double gun to fire, and felt quite resentful at being ordered not to draw trigger; and he stood now watching the great, thick-legged creature with its long, silky, cream-coloured fur hanging low down, the animal being as big in body as an ox, but with small, sharp, ferrety-looking head.“But if the gentleman fires and hits, sir,” said Jakobsen eagerly, “it will stop him and make him angry; then we can kill him with the spears.”“Look out!” cried the captain; “the other. Hah! Good dog!”For, unnoticed by them as they watched the retreating bear, Skene had rushed off round the pile of rocks and put up the second bear, a monster certainly bigger than the first, and it rushed into sight before the party from theHvalross, pursued by the dog, which was barking loudly now and snapping at its heels.After shuffling along a little way without noticing the men, the bear seemed to think that it was extremely undignified and cowardly to run from a fierce little animal something like the dogs it had probably seen in the Esquimaux sledges, and, stopping short, it faced round to look wonderingly at its pursuer.This was the opportunity the collie sought, and without hesitation it sprang right at the bear’s muzzle, but so quickly that the act was hardly perceptible; the bear raised one paw, gave a tap with it, and poor Skene went flying, rolling over and over, and then lay for a few moments motionless, with the bear walking slowly toward him, but stopping short as it became aware of the presence of the party from the ship.
A coast could never have been more eagerly scanned than was that of this island, for every man of the crew was longing for a run ashore in search of some little adventure to break the monotony of the life on board; and again and again, as a seal was seen to slip off the rocks after staring at them for a while with its peculiar, half human countenance, or a flock of sea-birds was passed, the men looked disappointed that no efforts were made to harpoon the one or shoot the other. But as far as landing was concerned, the heavy waves which foamed among the craggy masses thoroughly precluded that, and at last they neared the wreck once more, looking as grim and desolate as ever. Steve had just turned his glass to examine the snow near the top of the volcano where the smoke was issuing, and was wondering why it did not melt, when Jakobsen, the principal harpooner of the Norwegian party, gave a shout and pointed shoreward and forward.
“Yes, what is it?” cried Captain Marsham.
“Landing-place, sir.”
There it was, surely enough, hidden from them as they came south, but plain to view now at the back of a huge mass of rock which acted as a breakwater; and there, in quite a recess, was a patch of yellow sand, over which the sea glided gently, while behind the rock the water seemed to be deep and still.
Five minutes after the engine was stopped, the boat lowered, and the captain, doctor, Steve, and a strong crew jumped in, leaving Mr Lowe in charge, the dog leaping in last of all. A short row, for the most part balanced on the top of a great roller gliding shoreward to break on the rocks, and then a smart pull to the right, and they were behind the great rock, riding gently on deep crystal-like water. Fifty yards farther the boat was beached on the thick sand, drawn up, and the party set off, climbing over the tumbled-together rocks to reach the more level ground and make straight for the wreck, which lay some quarter of a mile to the north.
The captain took a sharp look round, and then suggested loading the heavy double guns he, the doctor, and Steve carried, the right bore with the heaviest shot, the rifled barrel with bullet.
One of the men carried a spare rifle, and Johannes and Jakobsen each shouldered a heavy walrus lance, a terrible weapon in the hands of a strong man, with its stout pole about nine feet long and keen leaf-shaped blade, so that they felt themselves more than a match for any polar bear which might show itself in front.
“Gun heavy, Steve?” said the captain.
“Eh? Yes—no! I don’t know,” he replied; “I had not thought about the weight.”
“Which means, I suppose, that you were thinking of having a shot at a bear.”
“Well, yes, sir; I was thinking of something of the kind,” said Steve, colouring.
“You must be careful, then. I will not say do not fire, my lad; but a gun is a dangerous weapon in unskilled hands, as dangerous sometimes for the people round as for the quarry in front.”
“I’ll take care, sir,” said Steve, in a tone full of confidence.
The captain turned and looked at him sharply.
“I’d rather you had said, ‘I’ll try to take care.’”
“Snubbed,” thought Steve. “Why, of course I shall take care. Does he think I shall shoot one of the men?”
He had other things to think of a few minutes later, for there before them, as they toiled on over the rocks and sand, with the breakers thundering away just to their right, lay the wreck, making them all hasten their pace, which gradually increased until it was a run, Steve at last leading, in spite of the weight of the heavy gun, and reaching the stranded vessel many yards in front of the doctor, who was next.
“I forgot all about the bears,” said the latter, giving a sharp look round with his gun ready.
But there was nothing in sight but a great gull floating gently along over the breaking waves, and looking down eagerly for anything edible cast up by the sea.
Then the rest came up, and they looked round the vessel, lying quite firmly wedged in the rocks, one of them having pierced its bottom, making a gap, through which the sand had made its way till it was half filled.
The bows were examined and then the stern, but everything bearing the vessel’s name and the port from which she sailed had been swept away, save two letters—two E’s on the starboard side, just below the stern cabin window.
“Do you think it is theIce Blink, sir?” said Steve in an awe-stricken whisper; for in spite of the bright sunshine and dazzling blue of sea and sky, there was something so weird and grim about the loose, torn, shattered wreck that the boy felt as if it were impossible to speak aloud.
“No,” said the captain decidedly; and in an instant the sight of the torn timbers seemed less terrible, and the pictures Steve was calling up of his uncle and crew lying somewhere about buried in the sand faded away.
As the captain gave vent to that decisive utterance he climbed on board, and stood up on the stones and sand which filled the angle between the bulwarks and the sloping deck.
“What do you say she is, Johannes?” cried the captain to the sturdy Norseman, who stood leaning on the shaft of his great spear.
“Whaler, sir, and been here for three or four years,” replied the man.
“Yes, I thought it was not a last season’s wreck. E—E,” he said thoughtfully; “where can she be from?”
“Dundee!” cried Steve quickly.
“Good. Of course, a Dundee whaler,” said Captain Marsham. “That brings to an end all idea of theIce Blinkcoming to grief here. But let’s see; we may find traces of the poor fellows who were wrecked;” and after a look at the remains of the broken masts, the huge cavern-like hollow ripped in the deck, where tons upon tons of sand were lying as it had been tossed in during storms, he led the way aft to the cabin; but there was little to see there. The windows had been battered in by the stones and pieces of rock hurled at them by the waves; but two of the dead-lights, which had been evidently closed during the storm in which the vessel was wrecked, were still held in their places. As for the cabin itself, the contents had been torn and beaten away through a huge gap on one side of the rudder, which reached upward to the deck, and nothing remained of locker or berth that could give any trace of the crew. From here they went forward to the forecastle, the hatch of which gaped widely open; and as they stood below it at the bottom of the sloping deck, Steve felt a strange sensation of shrinking, and as if he would prefer to leave any secrets which the cabin might hide in peace. Captain Marsham felt, too, something of the kind, and he said a few words in a low voice to the doctor.
“Yes,” replied the latter, “perhaps so, poor fellows; but we ought to see.”
That was enough to suggest to Steve the possibility of the remains of the crew being below, just as they had died of cold, perhaps of starvation. The desire to leave the deck increased, but he tried to brace himself together, and listened as the doctor said:
“Shall I go?”
“No,” replied the captain; and taking hold of the hatch he drew himself up to it and peered down; then handing his gun to Steve, he lowered himself down feet first and disappeared, while the rest stood watching the square opening and listening intently.
“Rather dark,” came up from the forecastle, and they heard the sharp scratching sound made by the striking of a match.
“No one here. Plenty of sand drifted right in.”
Another match was struck, and then, after the short period one of the little tapers would take to burn out, the captain’s hands appeared and he climbed out.
“Nothing whatever,” he said. “No trace of a soul, and everything has been cleared out; not so much as a blanket left.”
“That looks as if the crew must have stripped the vessel, and built themselves a place somewhere inland.”
“Or on the shore,” said the captain. “No; I fancy that this vessel was forsaken long ago. Her crew must have taken to the boats, and let us hope that they all escaped across to Hammerfest, or some other port.”
“Will you search any further?” asked Steve. “There is nothing to search for here, my boy,” replied the captain; “but we will have a tramp forward, and see if any traces have been left of hut or signal-post, though I feel certain that no one is here.”
The doctor looked doubtful, and Steve felt glad, for he thought the captain was taking matters too coolly.
“Well,” continued that gentleman, turning to the doctor, “supposing that it was your misfortune to be cast ashore on this desolate place, what would be the first thing you would try to do?”
“Try to get away,” replied the doctor, smiling. “Exactly; and if you had no means of getting away, would you not hoist a flag on some prominent place where it would be seen by a passing vessel?”
“Of course.”
“Where is the spar, then, hoisted on the cliff?” The doctor shook his head, and Steve gazed up and along the top of the long, level height, which looked like a mighty rampart at the foot of a snowy pyramid.
“Here, what do you say, Johannes? You have had plenty of experience of sea life. Where is the crew of this schooner?”
The man shook his head and smiled. “Who knows, sir?” he said. “I don’t think they ever landed here. It was a deserted ship when it came ashore.”
“Why do you say that?” said the doctor sharply. “I see nothing, sir: no timbers or spars dragged up the beach; not a sign of anything having been moored.”
At that moment the dog, which had followed them, quietly waiting for the first shot to be fired, when his task of retrieving the game would begin, uttered an uneasy whimper and cocked his ears.
“Quiet, Skeny! What is it?” said Steve, stooping to pat him. “Only getting impatient.”
“Yes,” said the captain, “and we may as well move on. No, doctor, there is nobody to search for, so let’s take a tramp for a few miles, try and pick up a few wild fowl, and get back on board. Eh? you have something to say, Jakobsen?” he continued, as he caught the second Norwegian’s eye.
“Only that I think as Johannes does, sir, that you are right. She was a forsaken vessel when she struck there.”
“Forward, then,” cried the captain, shouldering his gun; and they dropped down on to the drift of sand below her, walked round by the bow, and, keeping a sharp look-out for game, tramped away northward, but bearing for the cliff, where at one point a glacier came right down, and at its foot the snow lay in a long slope; not soft, flocculent snow fresh fallen, but a collection of hard pellets, more resembling a gigantic heap of the remains seen after a very heavy hail-storm. But it was suggestive to Skene of the mountain-side far away beyond the Clyde at home, and with a sharp bark he dashed at it, thrust his nose in the cool, rounded fragments, and then cast himself upon his side to plough his way through them, sniffling and snuffling the while, as if he were trying to find snow-buried sheep after a winter’s gale.
“Goot tog, goot tog,” muttered Andrew, who carried the spare rifle, and he shifted it from one shoulder to the other. “Ah, laddie,” he whispered to Steve, “how it ’minds me o’ bonnie Scotland.”
They tramped on, noting flock after flock, thousands upon thousands in fact, of sea-birds, sitting in rows upon the ledges of the cliffs many of them, while others flew seaward, wheeling round and retiring; so plentiful were they—auks, puffins, guillemots, and tern—that the men might easily have been loaded with the spoil. But these birds were not tempting from a food point of view; and though Steve was anxious for a trial, the captain had no mind to stop while the boy ran risks by climbing to the ledges in search of the eggs that no doubt were there in thousands; so they kept on, looking vainly for ducks or geese.
“There,” said the captain at last, “we have nothing to gain by tramping along here. We know that if we keep on we shall come to the ice cliff, and be turned back. It is impossible to get up here and go inward without chipping a way up that glacier, to find more snow, so let’s go back.”
“Without a single bird?” cried the doctor in a disappointed tone.
“Well, another hundred yards or so, then,” said the captain; “but I don’t think we shall get anything. We want the mouth of a river or a lagoon from which the ice has just melted.”
“What’s the matter with the dog?” said Steve suddenly, after they had walked on for another ten minutes; for Skene had suddenly seemed as if he had conceived it to be his duty to turn himself into as near a resemblance to an arctic wolf as he possibly could. His ears were laid back, his eyes lurid, his teeth bared, and the thick ruff above his neck and shoulders set up, bristling and waving as if swept by a strong current of air.
“Look out, gentlemen; he scents game,” whispered Johannes.
“Stop!” said the captain. “It was near here that we saw the bears.”
“No, no, a mile farther,” said the doctor.
At that moment Skene growled savagely, and from behind a pile of grey rocks some fifty yards to their right a large animal suddenly rushed out, turned and stared at them for a moment or two, and then shuffled off at a lumbering trot, going rapidly over the rough ground in the direction of the ice.
“Don’t fire! don’t fire!” cried the captain. “A stern shot would only injure without killing the poor brute. Let him go.”
“My word!” cried the doctor as he lowered his gun; “but he is a fine one.”
Steve, too, had eagerly raised his double gun to fire, and felt quite resentful at being ordered not to draw trigger; and he stood now watching the great, thick-legged creature with its long, silky, cream-coloured fur hanging low down, the animal being as big in body as an ox, but with small, sharp, ferrety-looking head.
“But if the gentleman fires and hits, sir,” said Jakobsen eagerly, “it will stop him and make him angry; then we can kill him with the spears.”
“Look out!” cried the captain; “the other. Hah! Good dog!”
For, unnoticed by them as they watched the retreating bear, Skene had rushed off round the pile of rocks and put up the second bear, a monster certainly bigger than the first, and it rushed into sight before the party from theHvalross, pursued by the dog, which was barking loudly now and snapping at its heels.
After shuffling along a little way without noticing the men, the bear seemed to think that it was extremely undignified and cowardly to run from a fierce little animal something like the dogs it had probably seen in the Esquimaux sledges, and, stopping short, it faced round to look wonderingly at its pursuer.
This was the opportunity the collie sought, and without hesitation it sprang right at the bear’s muzzle, but so quickly that the act was hardly perceptible; the bear raised one paw, gave a tap with it, and poor Skene went flying, rolling over and over, and then lay for a few moments motionless, with the bear walking slowly toward him, but stopping short as it became aware of the presence of the party from the ship.