Chapter Twenty Four.Winter ends—The First Insect—Preparations for Departure—Narrow Escape—Cutting out—Once more Afloat—Ship on Fire—Crew take to the Boats.Winter passed away, with its darkness and its frost, and, happily, with its sorrows; and summer—bright, glowing summer—came at last to gladden the heart of man and beast in the Polar regions.We have purposely omitted to make mention of spring, for there is no such season, properly so called, within the Arctic Circle. Winter usually terminates with a gushing thaw, and summer then begins with a blaze of fervent heat. Not that the heat is really so intense as compared with that of southern climes, but the contrast is so great that itseemsas though the torrid zones had rushed towards the Pole.About the beginning of June there were indications of the coming heat. Fresh water began to trickle from the rocks, and streamlets commenced to run down the icebergs. Soon everything became moist, and a marked change took place in the appearance of the ice-belt, owing to the pools that collected on it everywhere and overflowed.Seals now became more numerous in the neighbourhood, and were frequently killed near theatluks, or holes; so that fresh meat was secured in abundance, and the scurvy received a decided check. Reindeer, rabbits, and ptarmigan, too, began to frequent the bay, so that the larder was constantly full, and the mess-table presented a pleasing variety—rats being no longer the solitary dish of fresh meat at every meal. A few small birds made their appearance from the southward, and these were hailed as harbingers of the coming summer.One day O’Riley sat on the taffrail, basking in the warm sun, and drinking in health and gladness from its beams. He had been ill, and was now convalescent. Buzzby stood beside him.“I’ve bin thinkin’,” said Buzzby, “that we don’t half know the blessin’s that are given to us in this here world till we’ve had ’em taken away. Look, now, how we’re enjoyin’ the sun an’ the heat just as if it wos so much gold!”“Goold!” echoed O’Riley in a tone of contempt; “faix, I niver thought so little o’ goold before, let me tell ye. Goold can buy many a thing, it can, but it can’t buy sunshine. Hallo! what’s this!”O’Riley accompanied the question with a sudden snatch of his hand.“Look here, Buzzby! Have a care, now! jist watch the opening o’ my fist.”“Wot is it?” enquired Buzzby, approaching, and looking earnestly at his comrade’s clenched hand with some curiosity.“There he comes! Now, then; not so fast, ye spalpeen!”As he spoke, a small fly, which had been captured, crept out from between his fingers, and sought to escape. It was the first that had visited these frozen regions for many, many months, and the whole crew were summoned on deck to meet it, as if it were an old and valued friend.“Let it go, poor thing?” cried half a dozen of the men, gazing at the little prisoner with a degree of interest that cannot be thoroughly understood by those who have not passed through experiences similar to those of our Arctic voyagers.“Ay, don’t hurt it, poor thing! You’re squeezin’ it too hard!” cried Amos Parr.“Squaazing it! no, then, I’m not. Go, avic, an’ me blessin’ go wid ye.”The big, rough hand opened, and the tiny insect, spreading its gossamer wings, buzzed away into the bright atmosphere, where it was soon lost to view.“Rig up the ice-saws, Mr Bolton, set all hands at them, and get out the powder-canisters,” cried Captain Guy, coming hastily on deck.“Ay, ay, sir,” responded the mate. “All hands to the ice-saws! Look alive, boys! Ho! Mr Saunders! where’s Mr Saunders?”“Here I am,” answered the worthy second mate in a quiet voice.“Oh, you’re there? get up some powder, Mr Saunders, and a few canisters.”There was a heartiness in the tone and action with which these orders were given and obeyed that proved they were possessed of more than ordinary interest; as, indeed, they were, for the time had now come for making preparations for cutting the ship out of winter-quarters, and getting ready to take advantage of any favourable opening in the ice that might occur.“Do you hope to effect much?” enquired Captain Ellice of Captain Guy, who stood at the gangway watching the men as they leaped over the side, and began to cut holes with ice chisels preparatory to fixing the saws and powder-canisters.“Not much,” replied the captain; “but alittlein these latitudes is worth fighting hard for, as you are well aware. Many a time have I seen a ship’s crew strain and heave on warps and cables for hours together, and only gain a yard by all their efforts; but many a time, also, have I seen a single yard of headway save a ship from destruction.”“True,” rejoined Captain Ellice; “I have seen a little of it myself. There is no spot on earth, I think, equal to the Polar regions for bringing out into bold relief two great andapparentlyantagonistic truths—namely, man’s urgent need of all his powers to accomplish the work of his own deliverance, and man’s utter helplessness and entire dependence on the sovereign will of God.”“When shall we sink the canisters, sir?” asked Bolton, coming up and touching his hat.“In an hour, Mr Bolton; the tide will be full then, and we shall try what effect a blast will have.”“My opeenion is,” remarked Saunders, who passed at the moment with two large bags of gunpowder under his arms, “that it’ll have no effect at a’. It’ll just loosen the ice roond the ship.”The captain smiled as he said: “Thatis all the effect I hope for, Mr Saunders. Should the outward ice give way soon, we shall then be in a better position to avail ourselves of it.”As Saunders predicted, the effect of powder and saws was merely to loosen and rend the ice-tables in which theDolphinwas imbedded; but deliverance was coming sooner than any of those on board expected. That night a storm arose, which, for intensity of violence, equalled, if it did not surpass, the severest gales they had yet experienced. It set the great bergs of the Polar seas in motion, and these moving mountains of ice slowly and majestically began their voyage to southern climes, crashing through the floes, overturning the hummocks, and ripping up the ice-tables with quiet, but irresistible momentum. For two days the war of ice continued to rage, and sometimes the contending forces, in the shape of huge tongues and corners of bergs, were forced into the Bay of Mercy, and threatening swift destruction to the little craft, which was a mere atom that might have been crushed and sunk and scarcely missed in such a wild scene.At one time a table of ice was forced out of the water and reared up, like a sloping wall of glass, close to the stern of theDolphin, where all the crew were assembled with ice-poles ready to do their utmost; but their feeble efforts could have availed them nothing had the slowly-moving mass continued its onward progress.“Lower away the quarter-boat,” cried the captain, as the sheet of ice six feet thick came grinding down towards the starboard quarter.Buzzby, Grim, and several others sprang to obey, but, before they could let go the fall-tackles, the mass of ice rose suddenly high above the deck, over which it projected several feet, and caught the boat. In another moment the timbers yielded; the thwarts sprang out or were broken across, and slowly, yet forcibly, as a strong hand might crush an egg-shell, the boat was squeezed flat against the ship’s side.“Shove, lads; if it comes on we’re lost,” cried the captain, seizing one of the long poles with which the men were vainly straining every nerve and muscle. They might as well have tried to arrest the progress of a berg. On it came, and crushed in the starboard quarter bulwarks. Providentially at that moment it grounded and remained fast; but the projecting point that overhung them broke off and fell on the deck with a crash that shook the good ship from stem to stern. Several of the men were thrown violently down, but none were seriously hurt in this catastrophe.When the storm ceased, the ice out in the strait was all in motion, and that round the ship had loosened so much that it seemed as if theDolphinmight soon get out into open water and once more float upon its natural element. Every preparation, therefore, was made; the stores were reshipped from Store Island; the sails were shaken out, and those of them that had been taken down were bent on to the yards. Tackle was overhauled, and, in short, everything was done that was possible under the circumstances. But a week passed away ere they succeeded in finally warping out of the bay into the open sea beyond.It was a lovely morning when this happy event was accomplished. Before the tide was quite full, and while they were waiting until the command to heave on the warps should be given, Captain Guy assembled the crew for morning prayers in the cabin. Having concluded, he said:“My lads, through the great mercy of Heaven we have been all, except one, spared through the trials and anxieties of a long and dreary winter, and are now, I trust, about to make our escape from the ice that has held us fast so long. It becomes me at such a time to tell you that, if I am spared to return home, I shall be able to report that every man in this ship has done his duty. You have never flinched in the hour of danger, and never grumbled in the hour of trial. Only one man—our late brave and warm-hearted comrade, Joseph West—has fallen in the struggle. For the mercies that have never failed us, and for our success in rescuing my gallant friend, Captain Ellice, we ought to feel the deepest gratitude. We have need, however, to pray for a blessing on the labours that are yet before us, for you are well aware that we shall probably have many a struggle with the ice before we are once more afloat on blue water. And now, lads, away with you on deck, and man the capstan, for the tide is about full.”The capstan was manned, and the hawsers were hove taut. Inch by inch the tide rose, and theDolphinfloated. Then a lusty cheer was given, and Amos Parr struck up one of those hearty songs intermingled with “Ho!” and “Yo heave ho!” that seem to be the life and marrow of all nautical exertion. At last the good ship forged ahead, and,boringthrough the loose ice, passed slowly out of the Bay of Mercy.“Do you know I feel quite sad at quitting this dreary spot?” said Fred to his father, as they stood gazing backward over the taffrail. “I could not have believed that I should have become so much attached to it.”“We become attached to any spot, Fred, in which incidents have occurred to call forth, frequently, our deeper feelings. These rocks and stones are intimately associated with many events that have caused you joy and sorrow, hope and fear, pain and happiness. Men cherish the memory of such feelings, and love the spots of earth with which they are associated.”“Ah, Father, yonder stands one stone, at least, that calls forth feelings of sorrow.”Fred pointed, as he spoke, to Store Island, which was just passing out of view. On this lonely spot the men had raised a large stone over the grave of Joseph West. O’Riley, whose enthusiastic temperament had caused him to mourn over his comrade more, perhaps, than any other man in the ship, had carved the name and date of his death in rude characters on the stone. It was a conspicuous object on the low island, and every eye in theDolphinwas fixed on it as they passed. Soon the point of rock, that had sheltered them so long from many a westerly gale, intervened and shut it out from view for ever.A week of uninterrupted fair wind and weather had carried theDolphinfar to the south of their dreary wintering-ground, and all was going well, when the worst of all disasters befell the ship—she caught fire! How it happened no one could tell. The smoke was first seen rising suddenly from the hold. Instantly the alarm was spread.“Firemen to your posts!” shouted the captain. “Man the water-buckets; steady, men, no hurry. Keep order.”“Ay, ay, sir,” was the short, prompt response, and the most perfect orderwaskept. Every command was obeyed instantly, with a degree of vigour that is seldom exhibited save in cases of life and death.Buzzby was at the starboard, and Peter Grim at the larboard gangway, while the men stood in two rows, extending from each to the main hatch, up which ever-thickening clouds of dark smoke were rolling. Bucket after bucket of water was passed along and dashed into the hold, and everything that could be done was done, but without effect. The fire increased. Suddenly a long tongue of flame issued from the smoking cavern, and lapped round the mast and rigging with greedy eagerness.“There’s no hope,” said Captain Ellice in a low voice, laying his hand gently on Captain Guy’s shoulder.The captain did not reply, but gazed with an expression of the deepest regret, for one moment, at the work of destruction.Next instant he sprang to the falls of the larboard quarterboat.“Now, lads,” he cried energetically, “get out the boats. Bring up provisions, Mr Bolton, and a couple of spare sails. Mr Saunders, see to the ammunition and muskets. Quick, men. The cabin will soon be too hot to hold you.”Setting the example, the captain sprang below, followed by Fred and Tom Singleton, who secured the charts, a compass, chronometer, and quadrant; also the log-book and the various journals and records of the voyage. Captain Ellice also did active service, and, being cool and self-possessed, he recollected and secured several articles which were afterwards of the greatest use, and which, but for him, would in such a trying moment have probably been forgotten.Meanwhile the two largest boats in the ship were lowered. Provisions, masts, sails, and oars, etcetera, were thrown in. The few remaining dogs, among whom were Dumps and Poker, were also embarked, and the crew, hastily leaping in, pushed off. They were not a moment too soon. The fire had reached the place where the gunpowder was kept and, although there was not a great quantity of it, there was enough, when it exploded, to burst open the deck. The wind, having free ingress, fanned the fire into a furious blaze, and in a few moments theDolphinwas wrapped in flames from stem to stern. It was a little after sunset when the fire was discovered; in two hours later the good ship was burned to the water’s edge; then the waves swept in, and, while they extinguished the fire, they sank the blackened hull, leaving the two crowded boats floating in darkness on the bosom of the ice-laden sea.
Winter passed away, with its darkness and its frost, and, happily, with its sorrows; and summer—bright, glowing summer—came at last to gladden the heart of man and beast in the Polar regions.
We have purposely omitted to make mention of spring, for there is no such season, properly so called, within the Arctic Circle. Winter usually terminates with a gushing thaw, and summer then begins with a blaze of fervent heat. Not that the heat is really so intense as compared with that of southern climes, but the contrast is so great that itseemsas though the torrid zones had rushed towards the Pole.
About the beginning of June there were indications of the coming heat. Fresh water began to trickle from the rocks, and streamlets commenced to run down the icebergs. Soon everything became moist, and a marked change took place in the appearance of the ice-belt, owing to the pools that collected on it everywhere and overflowed.
Seals now became more numerous in the neighbourhood, and were frequently killed near theatluks, or holes; so that fresh meat was secured in abundance, and the scurvy received a decided check. Reindeer, rabbits, and ptarmigan, too, began to frequent the bay, so that the larder was constantly full, and the mess-table presented a pleasing variety—rats being no longer the solitary dish of fresh meat at every meal. A few small birds made their appearance from the southward, and these were hailed as harbingers of the coming summer.
One day O’Riley sat on the taffrail, basking in the warm sun, and drinking in health and gladness from its beams. He had been ill, and was now convalescent. Buzzby stood beside him.
“I’ve bin thinkin’,” said Buzzby, “that we don’t half know the blessin’s that are given to us in this here world till we’ve had ’em taken away. Look, now, how we’re enjoyin’ the sun an’ the heat just as if it wos so much gold!”
“Goold!” echoed O’Riley in a tone of contempt; “faix, I niver thought so little o’ goold before, let me tell ye. Goold can buy many a thing, it can, but it can’t buy sunshine. Hallo! what’s this!”
O’Riley accompanied the question with a sudden snatch of his hand.
“Look here, Buzzby! Have a care, now! jist watch the opening o’ my fist.”
“Wot is it?” enquired Buzzby, approaching, and looking earnestly at his comrade’s clenched hand with some curiosity.
“There he comes! Now, then; not so fast, ye spalpeen!”
As he spoke, a small fly, which had been captured, crept out from between his fingers, and sought to escape. It was the first that had visited these frozen regions for many, many months, and the whole crew were summoned on deck to meet it, as if it were an old and valued friend.
“Let it go, poor thing?” cried half a dozen of the men, gazing at the little prisoner with a degree of interest that cannot be thoroughly understood by those who have not passed through experiences similar to those of our Arctic voyagers.
“Ay, don’t hurt it, poor thing! You’re squeezin’ it too hard!” cried Amos Parr.
“Squaazing it! no, then, I’m not. Go, avic, an’ me blessin’ go wid ye.”
The big, rough hand opened, and the tiny insect, spreading its gossamer wings, buzzed away into the bright atmosphere, where it was soon lost to view.
“Rig up the ice-saws, Mr Bolton, set all hands at them, and get out the powder-canisters,” cried Captain Guy, coming hastily on deck.
“Ay, ay, sir,” responded the mate. “All hands to the ice-saws! Look alive, boys! Ho! Mr Saunders! where’s Mr Saunders?”
“Here I am,” answered the worthy second mate in a quiet voice.
“Oh, you’re there? get up some powder, Mr Saunders, and a few canisters.”
There was a heartiness in the tone and action with which these orders were given and obeyed that proved they were possessed of more than ordinary interest; as, indeed, they were, for the time had now come for making preparations for cutting the ship out of winter-quarters, and getting ready to take advantage of any favourable opening in the ice that might occur.
“Do you hope to effect much?” enquired Captain Ellice of Captain Guy, who stood at the gangway watching the men as they leaped over the side, and began to cut holes with ice chisels preparatory to fixing the saws and powder-canisters.
“Not much,” replied the captain; “but alittlein these latitudes is worth fighting hard for, as you are well aware. Many a time have I seen a ship’s crew strain and heave on warps and cables for hours together, and only gain a yard by all their efforts; but many a time, also, have I seen a single yard of headway save a ship from destruction.”
“True,” rejoined Captain Ellice; “I have seen a little of it myself. There is no spot on earth, I think, equal to the Polar regions for bringing out into bold relief two great andapparentlyantagonistic truths—namely, man’s urgent need of all his powers to accomplish the work of his own deliverance, and man’s utter helplessness and entire dependence on the sovereign will of God.”
“When shall we sink the canisters, sir?” asked Bolton, coming up and touching his hat.
“In an hour, Mr Bolton; the tide will be full then, and we shall try what effect a blast will have.”
“My opeenion is,” remarked Saunders, who passed at the moment with two large bags of gunpowder under his arms, “that it’ll have no effect at a’. It’ll just loosen the ice roond the ship.”
The captain smiled as he said: “Thatis all the effect I hope for, Mr Saunders. Should the outward ice give way soon, we shall then be in a better position to avail ourselves of it.”
As Saunders predicted, the effect of powder and saws was merely to loosen and rend the ice-tables in which theDolphinwas imbedded; but deliverance was coming sooner than any of those on board expected. That night a storm arose, which, for intensity of violence, equalled, if it did not surpass, the severest gales they had yet experienced. It set the great bergs of the Polar seas in motion, and these moving mountains of ice slowly and majestically began their voyage to southern climes, crashing through the floes, overturning the hummocks, and ripping up the ice-tables with quiet, but irresistible momentum. For two days the war of ice continued to rage, and sometimes the contending forces, in the shape of huge tongues and corners of bergs, were forced into the Bay of Mercy, and threatening swift destruction to the little craft, which was a mere atom that might have been crushed and sunk and scarcely missed in such a wild scene.
At one time a table of ice was forced out of the water and reared up, like a sloping wall of glass, close to the stern of theDolphin, where all the crew were assembled with ice-poles ready to do their utmost; but their feeble efforts could have availed them nothing had the slowly-moving mass continued its onward progress.
“Lower away the quarter-boat,” cried the captain, as the sheet of ice six feet thick came grinding down towards the starboard quarter.
Buzzby, Grim, and several others sprang to obey, but, before they could let go the fall-tackles, the mass of ice rose suddenly high above the deck, over which it projected several feet, and caught the boat. In another moment the timbers yielded; the thwarts sprang out or were broken across, and slowly, yet forcibly, as a strong hand might crush an egg-shell, the boat was squeezed flat against the ship’s side.
“Shove, lads; if it comes on we’re lost,” cried the captain, seizing one of the long poles with which the men were vainly straining every nerve and muscle. They might as well have tried to arrest the progress of a berg. On it came, and crushed in the starboard quarter bulwarks. Providentially at that moment it grounded and remained fast; but the projecting point that overhung them broke off and fell on the deck with a crash that shook the good ship from stem to stern. Several of the men were thrown violently down, but none were seriously hurt in this catastrophe.
When the storm ceased, the ice out in the strait was all in motion, and that round the ship had loosened so much that it seemed as if theDolphinmight soon get out into open water and once more float upon its natural element. Every preparation, therefore, was made; the stores were reshipped from Store Island; the sails were shaken out, and those of them that had been taken down were bent on to the yards. Tackle was overhauled, and, in short, everything was done that was possible under the circumstances. But a week passed away ere they succeeded in finally warping out of the bay into the open sea beyond.
It was a lovely morning when this happy event was accomplished. Before the tide was quite full, and while they were waiting until the command to heave on the warps should be given, Captain Guy assembled the crew for morning prayers in the cabin. Having concluded, he said:
“My lads, through the great mercy of Heaven we have been all, except one, spared through the trials and anxieties of a long and dreary winter, and are now, I trust, about to make our escape from the ice that has held us fast so long. It becomes me at such a time to tell you that, if I am spared to return home, I shall be able to report that every man in this ship has done his duty. You have never flinched in the hour of danger, and never grumbled in the hour of trial. Only one man—our late brave and warm-hearted comrade, Joseph West—has fallen in the struggle. For the mercies that have never failed us, and for our success in rescuing my gallant friend, Captain Ellice, we ought to feel the deepest gratitude. We have need, however, to pray for a blessing on the labours that are yet before us, for you are well aware that we shall probably have many a struggle with the ice before we are once more afloat on blue water. And now, lads, away with you on deck, and man the capstan, for the tide is about full.”
The capstan was manned, and the hawsers were hove taut. Inch by inch the tide rose, and theDolphinfloated. Then a lusty cheer was given, and Amos Parr struck up one of those hearty songs intermingled with “Ho!” and “Yo heave ho!” that seem to be the life and marrow of all nautical exertion. At last the good ship forged ahead, and,boringthrough the loose ice, passed slowly out of the Bay of Mercy.
“Do you know I feel quite sad at quitting this dreary spot?” said Fred to his father, as they stood gazing backward over the taffrail. “I could not have believed that I should have become so much attached to it.”
“We become attached to any spot, Fred, in which incidents have occurred to call forth, frequently, our deeper feelings. These rocks and stones are intimately associated with many events that have caused you joy and sorrow, hope and fear, pain and happiness. Men cherish the memory of such feelings, and love the spots of earth with which they are associated.”
“Ah, Father, yonder stands one stone, at least, that calls forth feelings of sorrow.”
Fred pointed, as he spoke, to Store Island, which was just passing out of view. On this lonely spot the men had raised a large stone over the grave of Joseph West. O’Riley, whose enthusiastic temperament had caused him to mourn over his comrade more, perhaps, than any other man in the ship, had carved the name and date of his death in rude characters on the stone. It was a conspicuous object on the low island, and every eye in theDolphinwas fixed on it as they passed. Soon the point of rock, that had sheltered them so long from many a westerly gale, intervened and shut it out from view for ever.
A week of uninterrupted fair wind and weather had carried theDolphinfar to the south of their dreary wintering-ground, and all was going well, when the worst of all disasters befell the ship—she caught fire! How it happened no one could tell. The smoke was first seen rising suddenly from the hold. Instantly the alarm was spread.
“Firemen to your posts!” shouted the captain. “Man the water-buckets; steady, men, no hurry. Keep order.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” was the short, prompt response, and the most perfect orderwaskept. Every command was obeyed instantly, with a degree of vigour that is seldom exhibited save in cases of life and death.
Buzzby was at the starboard, and Peter Grim at the larboard gangway, while the men stood in two rows, extending from each to the main hatch, up which ever-thickening clouds of dark smoke were rolling. Bucket after bucket of water was passed along and dashed into the hold, and everything that could be done was done, but without effect. The fire increased. Suddenly a long tongue of flame issued from the smoking cavern, and lapped round the mast and rigging with greedy eagerness.
“There’s no hope,” said Captain Ellice in a low voice, laying his hand gently on Captain Guy’s shoulder.
The captain did not reply, but gazed with an expression of the deepest regret, for one moment, at the work of destruction.
Next instant he sprang to the falls of the larboard quarterboat.
“Now, lads,” he cried energetically, “get out the boats. Bring up provisions, Mr Bolton, and a couple of spare sails. Mr Saunders, see to the ammunition and muskets. Quick, men. The cabin will soon be too hot to hold you.”
Setting the example, the captain sprang below, followed by Fred and Tom Singleton, who secured the charts, a compass, chronometer, and quadrant; also the log-book and the various journals and records of the voyage. Captain Ellice also did active service, and, being cool and self-possessed, he recollected and secured several articles which were afterwards of the greatest use, and which, but for him, would in such a trying moment have probably been forgotten.
Meanwhile the two largest boats in the ship were lowered. Provisions, masts, sails, and oars, etcetera, were thrown in. The few remaining dogs, among whom were Dumps and Poker, were also embarked, and the crew, hastily leaping in, pushed off. They were not a moment too soon. The fire had reached the place where the gunpowder was kept and, although there was not a great quantity of it, there was enough, when it exploded, to burst open the deck. The wind, having free ingress, fanned the fire into a furious blaze, and in a few moments theDolphinwas wrapped in flames from stem to stern. It was a little after sunset when the fire was discovered; in two hours later the good ship was burned to the water’s edge; then the waves swept in, and, while they extinguished the fire, they sank the blackened hull, leaving the two crowded boats floating in darkness on the bosom of the ice-laden sea.
Chapter Twenty Five.Escape to Uppernavik—Letter from Home—Meetuck’s Grandmother—Dumps and Poker again.For three long weeks the shipwrecked mariners were buffeted by winds and waves in open boats, but at last they were guided in safety through all their dangers and vicissitudes to the colony of Uppernavik. Here they found several vessels on the point of setting out for Europe, one of which was bound for England; and in this vessel the crew of theDolphinresolved to ship.Nothing of particular interest occurred at this solitary settlement exceptonething, but that one thing was a great event, and deserves very special notice. It was nothing less than the receipt of a letter by Fred from his cousin Isobel! Fred and Isobel, having been brought up for several years together, felt towards each other like brother and sister.Fred received the letter from the pastor of the settlement shortly after landing, while his father and the captain were on board the English brig making arrangements for their passage home. He could scarcely believe his eyes when he beheld the well-known hand, but, having at last come to realise the fact that he actually held a real letter in his hand, he darted behind one of the curious, primitive cottages to read it. Here he was met by a squad of inquisitive natives; so, with a gesture of impatience, he rushed to another spot; but he was observed and followed by half a dozen Esquimaux boys, and in despair he sought refuge in the small church near which he chanced to be. He had not been there a second, however, when two old women came in, and, approaching him, began to scan him with critical eyes. This was too much, so Fred thrust the letter into his bosom, darted out, and was instantly surrounded by a band of natives, who began to question him in an unknown tongue. Seeing that there was no other resource, Fred turned him round and fled towards the mountains at a pace that defied pursuit, and, coming to a halt in the midst of a rocky gorge that might have served as an illustration of what chaos was, he sat him down behind a big rock to peruse Isobel’s letter.Having read it, he re-read it; having re-read it, he read it over again. Having read it over again, he meditated a little, exclaiming several times emphatically: “MydarlingIsobel,” and then he read bits of it here and there; having done which, he read theotherbits, and so got through it again. As the letter was a pretty long one it took him a considerable time to do all this; then it suddenly occurred to him that he had been thus selfishly keeping it all to himself instead of sharing it with his father, so he started up and hastened back to the village, where he found old Mr Ellice in earnest confabulation with the pastor of the place. Seizing his parent by the arm, Fred led him into a room in the pastor’s house, and, looking round to make sure that it was empty, he sought to bolt the door, but the door was a primitive one and had no bolt, so Fred placed a huge old-fashioned chair against it, and, sitting down therein, while his father took a seat opposite, he unfolded the letter, and, yet once again, read it through.The letter was about twelve months old, and ran thus:—“Grayton, 25th July.“My Darling Fred,“It is now two months since you left us, and it seems to me two years. Oh, how Idowish that you were back! When I think of the terrible dangers that you may be exposed to amongst the ice my heart sinks, and I sometimes fear that we shall never see you or your dear father again. But you are in the hands of our Father in heaven, dear Fred, and I never cease to pray that you may be successful and return to us in safety. Dear, good old Mr Singleton told me yesterday that he had an opportunity of sending to the Danish settlements in Greenland, so I resolved to write, though I very much doubt whether this will ever find you in such a wild far-off land.“Oh, when I think of where you are, all the romantic stories I have ever read of Polar regions spring up before me, andyouseem to be the hero of them all. But I must not waste my paper thus. I know you will be anxious for news. I have very little to give you, however. Good old Mr Singleton has beenverykind to us since you went away. He comes constantly to see us, and comforts dear Mamma very much. Your friend, Dr Singleton, will be glad to hear that he is well and strong. Tell my friend Buzzby that his wife sends her ‘compliments’. I laugh while I write the word! Yes, she actually sends er ‘compliments’ to her husband. She is a very stern but a really excellent woman. Mamma and I visit her frequently when we chance to be in the village. Her two boys are the finest little fellows I ever saw. They are both so like each other that we cannot tell which is which when they are apart, and both are so like their father that we can almost fancy we see him, when looking at either of them.“The last day we were there, however, they were in disgrace, for Johnny had pushed Freddy into the washing-tub, and Freddy, in revenge, had poured a jug of treacle over Johnny’s head! I am quite sure that Mrs Buzzby is tired of being a widow—as she calls herself—and will be very glad when her husband comes back. But I must reserve chit-chat to the end of my letter, and first give you a minute account of all your friends.”Here followed six pages of closely-written quarto, which, however interesting they might be to those concerned, cannot be expected to afford much entertainment to our readers, so we will cut Isobel’s letter short at this point.“Cap’n’s ready to go aboord, sir,” said O’Riley, touching his cap to Captain Ellice while he was yet engaged in discussing the letter with his son.“Very good.”“An’, plaaze sir, av ye’ll take the throuble to look in at Mrs Meetuck in passin’, it’ll do yer heart good, it will.”“Very well, we’ll look in,” replied the captain as he quitted the house of the worthy pastor.The personage whom O’Riley chose to style Mrs Meetuck was Meetuck’s grandmother. That old lady was an Esquimaux whose age might be algebraically expressed as anunknown quantity. She lived in a boat turned upside down, with a small window in the bottom of it, and a hole in the side for a door. When Captain Ellice and Fred looked in, the old woman, who was a mere mass of bones and wrinkles, was seated on a heap of moss beside a fire, the only chimney to which was a hole in the bottom of the boat. In front of her sat her grandson, Meetuck, and on a cloth spread out at her feet were displayed all the presents with which that good hunter had been loaded by his comrades of theDolphin. Meetuck’s mother had died many years before, and all the affection in his naturally warm heart was transferred to, and centred upon, his old grandmother. Meetuck’s chief delight in the gifts he received was in sharing them, as far as possible, with the old woman. We sayas far as possible, because some things could not be shared with her, such as a splendid new rifle, and a silver-mounted hunting-knife and powder-horn, all of which had been presented to him by Captain Guy over and above his wages, as a reward for his valuable services. But the trinkets of every kind which had been given to him by the men were laid at the feet of the old woman, who looked at everything in blank amazement yet with a smile on her wrinkled visage that betokened much satisfaction. Meetuck’s oily countenance beamed with delight as he sat puffing his pipe in his grandmother’s face. This little attention, we may remark, was paid designedly, for the old woman liked it, and the youth knew that.“They have enough to make them happy for the winter,” said Captain Ellice, as he turned to leave the hut.“Faix, they have. There’s only two things wantin’ to make it complate.”“What are they?” enquired Fred.“Murphies and a pig, sure. That’s all they need.”“Wots come o’ Dumps and Poker?” enquired Buzzby, as they reached the boat.“Oh, I quite forgot them!” cried Fred; “stay a minute, I’ll run up and find them. They can’t be far off.”For some time Fred searched in vain. At last he bethought him of Meetuck’s hut as being a likely spot in which to find them. On entering he found the couple as he had left them, the only difference being that the poor old woman seemed to be growing sleepy over her joys.“Have you seen Dumps or Poker anywhere?” enquired Fred.Meetuck nodded and pointed to a corner where, comfortably rolled up on a mound of dry moss, lay Dumps; Poker, as usual, making use of him as a pillow.“Thems is go bed,” said Meetuck.“Thems must get up then and come aboard,” cried Fred, whistling.At first the dogs, being sleepy, seemed indisposed to move, but at last they consented, and, following Fred to the beach, were soon conveyed aboard the ship.Next day Captain Guy and his men bade Meetuck and the kind, hospitable people of Uppernavik farewell, and, spreading their canvas to a fair breeze, set sail for England.
For three long weeks the shipwrecked mariners were buffeted by winds and waves in open boats, but at last they were guided in safety through all their dangers and vicissitudes to the colony of Uppernavik. Here they found several vessels on the point of setting out for Europe, one of which was bound for England; and in this vessel the crew of theDolphinresolved to ship.
Nothing of particular interest occurred at this solitary settlement exceptonething, but that one thing was a great event, and deserves very special notice. It was nothing less than the receipt of a letter by Fred from his cousin Isobel! Fred and Isobel, having been brought up for several years together, felt towards each other like brother and sister.
Fred received the letter from the pastor of the settlement shortly after landing, while his father and the captain were on board the English brig making arrangements for their passage home. He could scarcely believe his eyes when he beheld the well-known hand, but, having at last come to realise the fact that he actually held a real letter in his hand, he darted behind one of the curious, primitive cottages to read it. Here he was met by a squad of inquisitive natives; so, with a gesture of impatience, he rushed to another spot; but he was observed and followed by half a dozen Esquimaux boys, and in despair he sought refuge in the small church near which he chanced to be. He had not been there a second, however, when two old women came in, and, approaching him, began to scan him with critical eyes. This was too much, so Fred thrust the letter into his bosom, darted out, and was instantly surrounded by a band of natives, who began to question him in an unknown tongue. Seeing that there was no other resource, Fred turned him round and fled towards the mountains at a pace that defied pursuit, and, coming to a halt in the midst of a rocky gorge that might have served as an illustration of what chaos was, he sat him down behind a big rock to peruse Isobel’s letter.
Having read it, he re-read it; having re-read it, he read it over again. Having read it over again, he meditated a little, exclaiming several times emphatically: “MydarlingIsobel,” and then he read bits of it here and there; having done which, he read theotherbits, and so got through it again. As the letter was a pretty long one it took him a considerable time to do all this; then it suddenly occurred to him that he had been thus selfishly keeping it all to himself instead of sharing it with his father, so he started up and hastened back to the village, where he found old Mr Ellice in earnest confabulation with the pastor of the place. Seizing his parent by the arm, Fred led him into a room in the pastor’s house, and, looking round to make sure that it was empty, he sought to bolt the door, but the door was a primitive one and had no bolt, so Fred placed a huge old-fashioned chair against it, and, sitting down therein, while his father took a seat opposite, he unfolded the letter, and, yet once again, read it through.
The letter was about twelve months old, and ran thus:—
“Grayton, 25th July.
“My Darling Fred,
“It is now two months since you left us, and it seems to me two years. Oh, how Idowish that you were back! When I think of the terrible dangers that you may be exposed to amongst the ice my heart sinks, and I sometimes fear that we shall never see you or your dear father again. But you are in the hands of our Father in heaven, dear Fred, and I never cease to pray that you may be successful and return to us in safety. Dear, good old Mr Singleton told me yesterday that he had an opportunity of sending to the Danish settlements in Greenland, so I resolved to write, though I very much doubt whether this will ever find you in such a wild far-off land.
“Oh, when I think of where you are, all the romantic stories I have ever read of Polar regions spring up before me, andyouseem to be the hero of them all. But I must not waste my paper thus. I know you will be anxious for news. I have very little to give you, however. Good old Mr Singleton has beenverykind to us since you went away. He comes constantly to see us, and comforts dear Mamma very much. Your friend, Dr Singleton, will be glad to hear that he is well and strong. Tell my friend Buzzby that his wife sends her ‘compliments’. I laugh while I write the word! Yes, she actually sends er ‘compliments’ to her husband. She is a very stern but a really excellent woman. Mamma and I visit her frequently when we chance to be in the village. Her two boys are the finest little fellows I ever saw. They are both so like each other that we cannot tell which is which when they are apart, and both are so like their father that we can almost fancy we see him, when looking at either of them.
“The last day we were there, however, they were in disgrace, for Johnny had pushed Freddy into the washing-tub, and Freddy, in revenge, had poured a jug of treacle over Johnny’s head! I am quite sure that Mrs Buzzby is tired of being a widow—as she calls herself—and will be very glad when her husband comes back. But I must reserve chit-chat to the end of my letter, and first give you a minute account of all your friends.”
Here followed six pages of closely-written quarto, which, however interesting they might be to those concerned, cannot be expected to afford much entertainment to our readers, so we will cut Isobel’s letter short at this point.
“Cap’n’s ready to go aboord, sir,” said O’Riley, touching his cap to Captain Ellice while he was yet engaged in discussing the letter with his son.
“Very good.”
“An’, plaaze sir, av ye’ll take the throuble to look in at Mrs Meetuck in passin’, it’ll do yer heart good, it will.”
“Very well, we’ll look in,” replied the captain as he quitted the house of the worthy pastor.
The personage whom O’Riley chose to style Mrs Meetuck was Meetuck’s grandmother. That old lady was an Esquimaux whose age might be algebraically expressed as anunknown quantity. She lived in a boat turned upside down, with a small window in the bottom of it, and a hole in the side for a door. When Captain Ellice and Fred looked in, the old woman, who was a mere mass of bones and wrinkles, was seated on a heap of moss beside a fire, the only chimney to which was a hole in the bottom of the boat. In front of her sat her grandson, Meetuck, and on a cloth spread out at her feet were displayed all the presents with which that good hunter had been loaded by his comrades of theDolphin. Meetuck’s mother had died many years before, and all the affection in his naturally warm heart was transferred to, and centred upon, his old grandmother. Meetuck’s chief delight in the gifts he received was in sharing them, as far as possible, with the old woman. We sayas far as possible, because some things could not be shared with her, such as a splendid new rifle, and a silver-mounted hunting-knife and powder-horn, all of which had been presented to him by Captain Guy over and above his wages, as a reward for his valuable services. But the trinkets of every kind which had been given to him by the men were laid at the feet of the old woman, who looked at everything in blank amazement yet with a smile on her wrinkled visage that betokened much satisfaction. Meetuck’s oily countenance beamed with delight as he sat puffing his pipe in his grandmother’s face. This little attention, we may remark, was paid designedly, for the old woman liked it, and the youth knew that.
“They have enough to make them happy for the winter,” said Captain Ellice, as he turned to leave the hut.
“Faix, they have. There’s only two things wantin’ to make it complate.”
“What are they?” enquired Fred.
“Murphies and a pig, sure. That’s all they need.”
“Wots come o’ Dumps and Poker?” enquired Buzzby, as they reached the boat.
“Oh, I quite forgot them!” cried Fred; “stay a minute, I’ll run up and find them. They can’t be far off.”
For some time Fred searched in vain. At last he bethought him of Meetuck’s hut as being a likely spot in which to find them. On entering he found the couple as he had left them, the only difference being that the poor old woman seemed to be growing sleepy over her joys.
“Have you seen Dumps or Poker anywhere?” enquired Fred.
Meetuck nodded and pointed to a corner where, comfortably rolled up on a mound of dry moss, lay Dumps; Poker, as usual, making use of him as a pillow.
“Thems is go bed,” said Meetuck.
“Thems must get up then and come aboard,” cried Fred, whistling.
At first the dogs, being sleepy, seemed indisposed to move, but at last they consented, and, following Fred to the beach, were soon conveyed aboard the ship.
Next day Captain Guy and his men bade Meetuck and the kind, hospitable people of Uppernavik farewell, and, spreading their canvas to a fair breeze, set sail for England.
Chapter Twenty Six.The return—The surprise—Buzzby’s Sayings and Doings—The Narrative—Fighting Battles o’er again—Conclusion.Once again we are on the end of the quay at Grayton. As Fred stands there, all that has occurred during the past year seems to him but a vivid dream.Captain Guy is there, and Captain Ellice, and Buzzby, and Mrs Buzzby too, and the two little Buzzbys also, and Mrs Bright, and Isobel, and Tom Singleton, and old Mr Singleton, and the crew of the wreckedDolphin, and, in short, the “whole world”—of that part of the country.It was a great day for Grayton, that. It was a wonderful day—quite an indescribable day; but there were also some things about it that made Captain Ellice feel somehow that it was a mysterious day, for, while there were hearty congratulations, and much sobbing for joy on the part of Mrs Bright, there were also whisperings which puzzled him a good deal.“Come with me, brother,” said Mrs Bright at length, taking him by the arm, “I have to tell you something.”Isobel, who was on the watch, joined them, and Fred also went with them towards the cottage.“Dear brother,” said Mrs Bright, “I—I—Oh, Isobel, tell him!Icannot.”“What means all this mystery?” said the captain in an earnest tone, for he felt that they had something serious to communicate.“Dear Uncle,” said Isobel, “you remember the time when the pirates attacked—”She paused, for her uncle’s look frightened her.“Go on, Isobel,” he said quickly.“Your dear wife, Uncle,was not lost at that time—”Captain Ellice turned pale. “What mean you, girl? How came you to know this?” Then a thought flashed across him. Seizing Isobel by the shoulder he gasped, rather than said:“Speak quick—is—is she alive?”“Yes, dear Uncle, she—”The captain heard no more. He would have fallen to the ground had not Fred, who was almost as much overpowered as his father, supported him. In a few minutes he recovered, and he was told that Alice was alive—in England—in the cottage. This was said as they approached the door. Alice was aware of her husband’s arrival. In another moment husband, and wife, and son were reunited.Scenes of intense joy cannot be adequately described, and there are meetings in this world which ought not to be too closely touched upon. Such was the present. We will therefore leave Captain Ellice and his wife and son to pour out the deep feelings of their hearts to each other, and follow the footsteps of honest John Buzzby, as he sailed down the village with his wife and children, and a host of admiring friends in tow.Buzzby’s feelings had been rather powerfully stirred up by the joy of all around, and a tearwouldoccasionally tumble over his weather-beaten cheek, and hang at the point of his sunburnt, and oft frost-bitten nose, despite his utmost efforts to subdue such outrageous demonstrations.“Sit down, John, dear,” said Mrs Buzzby in kind but commanding tones, when she got her husband fairly into his cottage, the little parlour of which was instantly crowded to excess. “Sit down, John, dear, and tell us all about it.”“Wot! begin to spin the whole yarn o’ the voyage afore I’ve had time to say ‘How d’ye do?’” exclaimed Buzzby, at the same time grasping his two uproarious sons, who had, the instant he sat down, rushed at his legs like two miniature midshipmen, climbed up them as if they had been two masts, and settled on his knees as if they had been their own favourite cross-trees!“No, John, not the yarn of the voyage,” replied his wife, while she spread the board before him with bread and cheese and beer, “but tell us how you found old Captain Ellice, and where, and what’s comed of the crew.”“Werry good, then here goes!”Buzzby was a man of action. He screwed up his weather-eye (the one next his wife,of course, that being the quarter from which squalls might be expected) and began a yarn which lasted the better part of two hours.It is not to be supposed that Buzzby spun it off without interruption. Besides the questions that broke in upon him from all quarters, the two Buzzbys junior scrambled, as far as was possible, into his pockets, pulled his whiskers as if they had been hoisting a main-sail therewith, and, generally, behaved in such an obstreperous manner as to render coherent discourse all but impracticable. He got through with it, however, and then Mrs Buzzby intimated her wish, pretty strongly, that the neighbours should vacate the premises; which they did, laughingly, pronouncing Buzzby to be a “trump”, and his better half a “true blue.”“Good-day, old chap,” said the last who made his exit; “tiller’s fixed agin—nailed amidships? eh!”“Hard and fast,” replied Buzzby with a broad grin, as he shut the door and returned to the bosom of his family.Two days later a grand feast was given at Mrs Bright’s cottage, to which all the friends of the family were invited to meet with Captain Ellice and those who had returned from their long and perilous voyage. It was a joyful gathering, that, and glad and grateful hearts were there.Two days later still, and another feast was given. On this occasion Buzzby was the host, and Buzzby’s cottage was the scene. It was a joyful meeting, too, and a jolly one to boot, for O’Riley was there, and Peter Grim, and Amos Parr, and David Mizzle, and Mivins—in short the entire crew of the lostDolphin,—captain, mates, surgeon, and all. Fred and his father were also there, and old Mr Singleton, and a number of other friends, so that all the rooms in the house had to be thrown open, and even then Mrs Buzzby had barely room to move. It was on this occasion that Buzzby related to his shipmates how Mrs Ellice had escaped from drowning on the night they were attacked by pirates on board the Indiaman. He took occasion to relate the circumstances just before the “people from the house” arrived, and as the reader may perhaps prefer Buzzby’s account to ours, we give it as it was delivered.“You see, it happened this way,” began Buzzby.“Hand us a coal, Buzzby, to light my pipe, before ye begin,” said Peter Grim.“Ah, then, howld yer tongue, Blunderbore!” cried O’Riley, handing the glowing coal demanded, with as much nonchalance as if his fingers were made of cast-iron.“Well, ye see,” resumed Buzzby, “when poor Mrs Ellice wos pitched overboard, as I seed her with my own two eyes—”“Stop, Buzzby,” said Mivins, “’ow was ’er ’ead at the time?”“Shut up!” cried several of the men; “go on, Buzzby.”“Well, I think her’eadwas sou’-west, if it warn’t nor’-east. Anyhow it was pintin’ somewhere or other round the compass. But, as I wos sayin’, when Mrs Ellice struck the water (an’ she told me all about it herself, ye must know) she sank, and then she comed up, and didn’t know how it wos, but she caught hold of an oar that wos floatin’ close beside her, and screamed for help, but no help came, for it was dark, and the ship had disappeared, so she gave herself up for lost, but in a little the oar struck agin a big piece o’ the wreck o’ the pirate’s boat, and she managed to clamber upon it, and lay there, a’most dead with cold, till mornin’. The first thing she saw when day broke forth wos a big ship, bearin’ right down on her, and she wos just about run down when one o’ the men observed her from the bow.“‘Hard a-port!’ roared the man.“‘Port it is,’ cried the man at the wheel, an’ round went the ship like a duck, jist missin’ the bit of wreck as she passed. A boat wos lowered, and Mrs Ellice wos took aboard. Well, she found that the ship wos bound for the Sandwich Islands, and as they didn’t mean to touch at any port in passin’, Mrs Ellice had to go on with her. Misfortins don’t come single, howsiver. The ship was wrecked on a coral reef, and the crew had to take to their boats, w’ich they did, an’ got safe to land, but the land they got to wos an out-o’-the-way island among the Feejees, and a spot where ships never come, so they had to make up their minds to stop there.”“I thought,” said Amos Parr, “that the Feejees were cannibals, and that whoever was wrecked or cast ashore on their coasts was killed and roasted, and eat up at once.”“So ye’re right,” rejoined Buzzby; “but Providence sent the crew to one o’ the islands that had bin visited by a native Christian missionary from one o’ the other islands, and the people had gin up some o’ their worst practices, and wos thinkin’ o’ turnin’ over a new leaf altogether. So the crew wos spared, and took to livin’ among the natives, quite comfortable like. But they soon got tired and took to their boats agin, and left. Mrs Ellice, however, determined to remain and help the native Christians, till a ship should pass that way. For three years nothin’ but canoes hove in sight o’ that lonesome island; then, at last a brig came, and cast anchor offshore. It wos an Australian trader that had been blown out o’ her course on her way to England, so they took poor Mrs Ellice aboard, and brought her home—and that’s how it wos.”Buzzby’s outline, although meagre, is so comprehensive that we do not think it necessary to add a word. Soon after he had concluded, the guests of the evening came in, and the conversation became general.“Buzzby’s jollification”, as it was called in the village, was long remembered as one of the most interesting events that had occurred for many years. One of the chief amusements of the evening was the spinning of long yarns about the incidents of the late voyage, by men who could spin them well.Their battles in the Polar Seas were all fought o’er again. The wondering listeners were told how Esquimaux were chased and captured; how walrus were lanced and harpooned; how bears were speared and shot; how long and weary journeys were undertaken on foot over immeasurable fields of ice and snow; how icebergs had crashed around their ship, and chains had been snapped asunder, and tough anchors had been torn from the ground, or lost; how schools had been set agoing and a theatre got up; and how, provisions having failed, rats were eaten—and eaten, too, with gusto. All this and a great deal more was told on that celebrated night—sometimes by one, sometimes by another, and sometimes, to the confusion of the audience, by two or three at once, and, not unfrequently, to the still greater confusion of story-tellers and audience alike, the whole proceedings were interrupted by the outrageous yells and turmoil of the two indomitable young Buzzbys, as they romped, in reckless joviality, with Dumps and Poker. But at length the morning light broke up the party, and stories of the World of Ice came to an end.And now, reader, our tale is told. But we cannot close without a parting word in regard to those with whom we have held intercourse so long.It must not be supposed that from this date everything in the affairs of our various friends flowed on in a tranquil, uninterrupted course. This world is a battle-field, on which no warrior finds rest until he dies; and yet, to the Christian warrior on that field, the hour of death is the hour of victory. “Change” is written in broad letters on everything connected with Time; and he who would do his duty well, and enjoy the greatest possible amount of happiness here, must seek to prepare himself foreverychange. Men cannot escape the general law. The current of their particular stream may long run smooth, but, sooner or later, the rugged channel and the precipice will come. Some streams run quietly for many a league, and only at the last are troubled. Others burst from their very birth on rocks of difficulty, and rush throughout their course in tortuous, broken channels.So was it with the actors in our story. Our hero’s course was smooth. Having fallen in love with his friend Tom Singleton’s profession, he studied medicine and surgery, became an M.D., and returned to practise in Grayton, which was a flourishing sea-port, and, during the course of Fred’s career, extended considerably. Fred also fell in love with a pretty young girl in a neighbouring town, and married her. Tom Singleton also took up his abode in Grayton, there being, as he said, “room for two”. Ever since Tom had seen Isobel on the end of the quay, on the day when theDolphinset sail for the Polar regions, his heart had been taken prisoner. Isobel refused to give it back unless he, Tom, should return the heart which he had stolen from her. This he could not do, so it was agreed that the two hearts should be tied together, and they two should be constituted joint guardians of both. In short, they were married, and took Mrs Bright to live with them, not far from the residence of old Mr Singleton, who was the fattest and jolliest old gentleman in the place, and the very idol of dogs and boys, who loved him to distraction.Captain Ellice, having had, as he said, “more than his share of the sea,” resolved to live on shore, and, being possessed of a moderately comfortable income, he purchased Mrs Bright’s cottage on the green hill that overlooked the harbour and the sea. Here he became celebrated for his benevolence, and for the energy with which he entered into all the schemes that were devised for the benefit of the town of Grayton. Like Tom Singleton and Fred, he became deeply interested in the condition of the poor, and had a special weakness forpoor old women, which he exhibited by searching up, and doing good to, every poor old woman in the parish. Captain Ellice was also celebrated for his garden, which was a remarkably fine one; for his flag-staff, which was a remarkably tall and magnificent one; and for his telescope, which constantly protruded from his drawing-room window, and pointed in the direction of the sea.As for the others—Captain Guy continued his career at sea, as commander of an East Indiaman. He remained stout and true-hearted to the last, like one of the oak timbers of his own good ship.Bolton, Saunders, Mivins, Peter Grim, Amos Parr, and the rest of them, were scattered in a few years, as sailors usually are, to the four quarters of the globe. O’Riley alone was heard of again. He wrote to Buzzby, “by manes of the ritin’ he had larn’d aboord theDolfin,” informing him that he had forsaken the “say” and become a small farmer near Cork. He had plenty of murphies and also a pig—the latter “bein’,” he said, “so like the wan that belonged to his owld grandmother that he thought it must be the same wan comed alive agin, or its darter.”And Buzzby—poor Buzzby—he, also, gave up the sea, much against his will, by command of his wife, and took to miscellaneous work, of which there was plenty for an active man in a seaport like Grayton. His rudder, poor man, was again (and this time permanently) lashed amidships, and whatever breeze Mrs Buzzby chanced to blow, his business was to sailright before it. The two little Buzzbys were the joy of their father’s heart. They were genuine little true-blues, both of them, and went to sea the moment their legs were long enough, and came home, voyage after voyage, with gifts of curiosities and gifts of money to their worthy parents.Dumps resided during the remainder of his days with Captain Ellice, and Poker dwelt with Buzzby. These truly remarkable dogs kept up their attachment to each other to the end. Indeed, as time passed by, they drew closer and closer together, for Poker became more sedate, and, consequently, a more suitable companion for his ancient friend. The dogs formed a connecting-link between the Buzzby and Ellice families—constantly reminding each of the other’s existence, by the daily interchange of visits.Fred and Tom soon came to be known as skilful doctors. Together they went through life respected by all who knew them—each year as it passed cementing closer and closer that undying friendship which had first started into being in the gay season of boyhood, and had bloomed and ripened amid the adventures, dangers, and vicissitudes of the World of Ice.
Once again we are on the end of the quay at Grayton. As Fred stands there, all that has occurred during the past year seems to him but a vivid dream.
Captain Guy is there, and Captain Ellice, and Buzzby, and Mrs Buzzby too, and the two little Buzzbys also, and Mrs Bright, and Isobel, and Tom Singleton, and old Mr Singleton, and the crew of the wreckedDolphin, and, in short, the “whole world”—of that part of the country.
It was a great day for Grayton, that. It was a wonderful day—quite an indescribable day; but there were also some things about it that made Captain Ellice feel somehow that it was a mysterious day, for, while there were hearty congratulations, and much sobbing for joy on the part of Mrs Bright, there were also whisperings which puzzled him a good deal.
“Come with me, brother,” said Mrs Bright at length, taking him by the arm, “I have to tell you something.”
Isobel, who was on the watch, joined them, and Fred also went with them towards the cottage.
“Dear brother,” said Mrs Bright, “I—I—Oh, Isobel, tell him!Icannot.”
“What means all this mystery?” said the captain in an earnest tone, for he felt that they had something serious to communicate.
“Dear Uncle,” said Isobel, “you remember the time when the pirates attacked—”
She paused, for her uncle’s look frightened her.
“Go on, Isobel,” he said quickly.
“Your dear wife, Uncle,was not lost at that time—”
Captain Ellice turned pale. “What mean you, girl? How came you to know this?” Then a thought flashed across him. Seizing Isobel by the shoulder he gasped, rather than said:
“Speak quick—is—is she alive?”
“Yes, dear Uncle, she—”
The captain heard no more. He would have fallen to the ground had not Fred, who was almost as much overpowered as his father, supported him. In a few minutes he recovered, and he was told that Alice was alive—in England—in the cottage. This was said as they approached the door. Alice was aware of her husband’s arrival. In another moment husband, and wife, and son were reunited.
Scenes of intense joy cannot be adequately described, and there are meetings in this world which ought not to be too closely touched upon. Such was the present. We will therefore leave Captain Ellice and his wife and son to pour out the deep feelings of their hearts to each other, and follow the footsteps of honest John Buzzby, as he sailed down the village with his wife and children, and a host of admiring friends in tow.
Buzzby’s feelings had been rather powerfully stirred up by the joy of all around, and a tearwouldoccasionally tumble over his weather-beaten cheek, and hang at the point of his sunburnt, and oft frost-bitten nose, despite his utmost efforts to subdue such outrageous demonstrations.
“Sit down, John, dear,” said Mrs Buzzby in kind but commanding tones, when she got her husband fairly into his cottage, the little parlour of which was instantly crowded to excess. “Sit down, John, dear, and tell us all about it.”
“Wot! begin to spin the whole yarn o’ the voyage afore I’ve had time to say ‘How d’ye do?’” exclaimed Buzzby, at the same time grasping his two uproarious sons, who had, the instant he sat down, rushed at his legs like two miniature midshipmen, climbed up them as if they had been two masts, and settled on his knees as if they had been their own favourite cross-trees!
“No, John, not the yarn of the voyage,” replied his wife, while she spread the board before him with bread and cheese and beer, “but tell us how you found old Captain Ellice, and where, and what’s comed of the crew.”
“Werry good, then here goes!”
Buzzby was a man of action. He screwed up his weather-eye (the one next his wife,of course, that being the quarter from which squalls might be expected) and began a yarn which lasted the better part of two hours.
It is not to be supposed that Buzzby spun it off without interruption. Besides the questions that broke in upon him from all quarters, the two Buzzbys junior scrambled, as far as was possible, into his pockets, pulled his whiskers as if they had been hoisting a main-sail therewith, and, generally, behaved in such an obstreperous manner as to render coherent discourse all but impracticable. He got through with it, however, and then Mrs Buzzby intimated her wish, pretty strongly, that the neighbours should vacate the premises; which they did, laughingly, pronouncing Buzzby to be a “trump”, and his better half a “true blue.”
“Good-day, old chap,” said the last who made his exit; “tiller’s fixed agin—nailed amidships? eh!”
“Hard and fast,” replied Buzzby with a broad grin, as he shut the door and returned to the bosom of his family.
Two days later a grand feast was given at Mrs Bright’s cottage, to which all the friends of the family were invited to meet with Captain Ellice and those who had returned from their long and perilous voyage. It was a joyful gathering, that, and glad and grateful hearts were there.
Two days later still, and another feast was given. On this occasion Buzzby was the host, and Buzzby’s cottage was the scene. It was a joyful meeting, too, and a jolly one to boot, for O’Riley was there, and Peter Grim, and Amos Parr, and David Mizzle, and Mivins—in short the entire crew of the lostDolphin,—captain, mates, surgeon, and all. Fred and his father were also there, and old Mr Singleton, and a number of other friends, so that all the rooms in the house had to be thrown open, and even then Mrs Buzzby had barely room to move. It was on this occasion that Buzzby related to his shipmates how Mrs Ellice had escaped from drowning on the night they were attacked by pirates on board the Indiaman. He took occasion to relate the circumstances just before the “people from the house” arrived, and as the reader may perhaps prefer Buzzby’s account to ours, we give it as it was delivered.
“You see, it happened this way,” began Buzzby.
“Hand us a coal, Buzzby, to light my pipe, before ye begin,” said Peter Grim.
“Ah, then, howld yer tongue, Blunderbore!” cried O’Riley, handing the glowing coal demanded, with as much nonchalance as if his fingers were made of cast-iron.
“Well, ye see,” resumed Buzzby, “when poor Mrs Ellice wos pitched overboard, as I seed her with my own two eyes—”
“Stop, Buzzby,” said Mivins, “’ow was ’er ’ead at the time?”
“Shut up!” cried several of the men; “go on, Buzzby.”
“Well, I think her’eadwas sou’-west, if it warn’t nor’-east. Anyhow it was pintin’ somewhere or other round the compass. But, as I wos sayin’, when Mrs Ellice struck the water (an’ she told me all about it herself, ye must know) she sank, and then she comed up, and didn’t know how it wos, but she caught hold of an oar that wos floatin’ close beside her, and screamed for help, but no help came, for it was dark, and the ship had disappeared, so she gave herself up for lost, but in a little the oar struck agin a big piece o’ the wreck o’ the pirate’s boat, and she managed to clamber upon it, and lay there, a’most dead with cold, till mornin’. The first thing she saw when day broke forth wos a big ship, bearin’ right down on her, and she wos just about run down when one o’ the men observed her from the bow.
“‘Hard a-port!’ roared the man.
“‘Port it is,’ cried the man at the wheel, an’ round went the ship like a duck, jist missin’ the bit of wreck as she passed. A boat wos lowered, and Mrs Ellice wos took aboard. Well, she found that the ship wos bound for the Sandwich Islands, and as they didn’t mean to touch at any port in passin’, Mrs Ellice had to go on with her. Misfortins don’t come single, howsiver. The ship was wrecked on a coral reef, and the crew had to take to their boats, w’ich they did, an’ got safe to land, but the land they got to wos an out-o’-the-way island among the Feejees, and a spot where ships never come, so they had to make up their minds to stop there.”
“I thought,” said Amos Parr, “that the Feejees were cannibals, and that whoever was wrecked or cast ashore on their coasts was killed and roasted, and eat up at once.”
“So ye’re right,” rejoined Buzzby; “but Providence sent the crew to one o’ the islands that had bin visited by a native Christian missionary from one o’ the other islands, and the people had gin up some o’ their worst practices, and wos thinkin’ o’ turnin’ over a new leaf altogether. So the crew wos spared, and took to livin’ among the natives, quite comfortable like. But they soon got tired and took to their boats agin, and left. Mrs Ellice, however, determined to remain and help the native Christians, till a ship should pass that way. For three years nothin’ but canoes hove in sight o’ that lonesome island; then, at last a brig came, and cast anchor offshore. It wos an Australian trader that had been blown out o’ her course on her way to England, so they took poor Mrs Ellice aboard, and brought her home—and that’s how it wos.”
Buzzby’s outline, although meagre, is so comprehensive that we do not think it necessary to add a word. Soon after he had concluded, the guests of the evening came in, and the conversation became general.
“Buzzby’s jollification”, as it was called in the village, was long remembered as one of the most interesting events that had occurred for many years. One of the chief amusements of the evening was the spinning of long yarns about the incidents of the late voyage, by men who could spin them well.
Their battles in the Polar Seas were all fought o’er again. The wondering listeners were told how Esquimaux were chased and captured; how walrus were lanced and harpooned; how bears were speared and shot; how long and weary journeys were undertaken on foot over immeasurable fields of ice and snow; how icebergs had crashed around their ship, and chains had been snapped asunder, and tough anchors had been torn from the ground, or lost; how schools had been set agoing and a theatre got up; and how, provisions having failed, rats were eaten—and eaten, too, with gusto. All this and a great deal more was told on that celebrated night—sometimes by one, sometimes by another, and sometimes, to the confusion of the audience, by two or three at once, and, not unfrequently, to the still greater confusion of story-tellers and audience alike, the whole proceedings were interrupted by the outrageous yells and turmoil of the two indomitable young Buzzbys, as they romped, in reckless joviality, with Dumps and Poker. But at length the morning light broke up the party, and stories of the World of Ice came to an end.
And now, reader, our tale is told. But we cannot close without a parting word in regard to those with whom we have held intercourse so long.
It must not be supposed that from this date everything in the affairs of our various friends flowed on in a tranquil, uninterrupted course. This world is a battle-field, on which no warrior finds rest until he dies; and yet, to the Christian warrior on that field, the hour of death is the hour of victory. “Change” is written in broad letters on everything connected with Time; and he who would do his duty well, and enjoy the greatest possible amount of happiness here, must seek to prepare himself foreverychange. Men cannot escape the general law. The current of their particular stream may long run smooth, but, sooner or later, the rugged channel and the precipice will come. Some streams run quietly for many a league, and only at the last are troubled. Others burst from their very birth on rocks of difficulty, and rush throughout their course in tortuous, broken channels.
So was it with the actors in our story. Our hero’s course was smooth. Having fallen in love with his friend Tom Singleton’s profession, he studied medicine and surgery, became an M.D., and returned to practise in Grayton, which was a flourishing sea-port, and, during the course of Fred’s career, extended considerably. Fred also fell in love with a pretty young girl in a neighbouring town, and married her. Tom Singleton also took up his abode in Grayton, there being, as he said, “room for two”. Ever since Tom had seen Isobel on the end of the quay, on the day when theDolphinset sail for the Polar regions, his heart had been taken prisoner. Isobel refused to give it back unless he, Tom, should return the heart which he had stolen from her. This he could not do, so it was agreed that the two hearts should be tied together, and they two should be constituted joint guardians of both. In short, they were married, and took Mrs Bright to live with them, not far from the residence of old Mr Singleton, who was the fattest and jolliest old gentleman in the place, and the very idol of dogs and boys, who loved him to distraction.
Captain Ellice, having had, as he said, “more than his share of the sea,” resolved to live on shore, and, being possessed of a moderately comfortable income, he purchased Mrs Bright’s cottage on the green hill that overlooked the harbour and the sea. Here he became celebrated for his benevolence, and for the energy with which he entered into all the schemes that were devised for the benefit of the town of Grayton. Like Tom Singleton and Fred, he became deeply interested in the condition of the poor, and had a special weakness forpoor old women, which he exhibited by searching up, and doing good to, every poor old woman in the parish. Captain Ellice was also celebrated for his garden, which was a remarkably fine one; for his flag-staff, which was a remarkably tall and magnificent one; and for his telescope, which constantly protruded from his drawing-room window, and pointed in the direction of the sea.
As for the others—Captain Guy continued his career at sea, as commander of an East Indiaman. He remained stout and true-hearted to the last, like one of the oak timbers of his own good ship.
Bolton, Saunders, Mivins, Peter Grim, Amos Parr, and the rest of them, were scattered in a few years, as sailors usually are, to the four quarters of the globe. O’Riley alone was heard of again. He wrote to Buzzby, “by manes of the ritin’ he had larn’d aboord theDolfin,” informing him that he had forsaken the “say” and become a small farmer near Cork. He had plenty of murphies and also a pig—the latter “bein’,” he said, “so like the wan that belonged to his owld grandmother that he thought it must be the same wan comed alive agin, or its darter.”
And Buzzby—poor Buzzby—he, also, gave up the sea, much against his will, by command of his wife, and took to miscellaneous work, of which there was plenty for an active man in a seaport like Grayton. His rudder, poor man, was again (and this time permanently) lashed amidships, and whatever breeze Mrs Buzzby chanced to blow, his business was to sailright before it. The two little Buzzbys were the joy of their father’s heart. They were genuine little true-blues, both of them, and went to sea the moment their legs were long enough, and came home, voyage after voyage, with gifts of curiosities and gifts of money to their worthy parents.
Dumps resided during the remainder of his days with Captain Ellice, and Poker dwelt with Buzzby. These truly remarkable dogs kept up their attachment to each other to the end. Indeed, as time passed by, they drew closer and closer together, for Poker became more sedate, and, consequently, a more suitable companion for his ancient friend. The dogs formed a connecting-link between the Buzzby and Ellice families—constantly reminding each of the other’s existence, by the daily interchange of visits.
Fred and Tom soon came to be known as skilful doctors. Together they went through life respected by all who knew them—each year as it passed cementing closer and closer that undying friendship which had first started into being in the gay season of boyhood, and had bloomed and ripened amid the adventures, dangers, and vicissitudes of the World of Ice.
|Chapter 1| |Chapter 2| |Chapter 3| |Chapter 4| |Chapter 5| |Chapter 6| |Chapter 7| |Chapter 8| |Chapter 9| |Chapter 10| |Chapter 11| |Chapter 12| |Chapter 13| |Chapter 14| |Chapter 15| |Chapter 16| |Chapter 17| |Chapter 18| |Chapter 19| |Chapter 20| |Chapter 21| |Chapter 22| |Chapter 23| |Chapter 24| |Chapter 25| |Chapter 26|