In the Land of the Great Snow Bear - Part 17
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Part 17

I do not know how it was, but after the sun had once more sunk, and twilight had commenced to deepen into night, the scenery of the bleak world around them--the rugged mountains, the rocks and cliffs that looked like bergs of ice, the wide expanse of snow-clad sea, with their vessel lying so cold and comfortless-looking--had a very saddening effect both on Claude and the doctor.

"It is like going back into the grave," said Claude.

"Well," the doctor replied, "we must not forget that the sun will--rise again to-morrow and stay a little longer with us, and so on, longer and longer, until he rises not to set again."

"While we are here?"

"Yes, while we are here. I pray it may be so, for we ought to be out into blue open water by the beginning of August, and homeward bound."

"Happy thought!" said Claude, after a pause; "I'll send off another bird."

"I would certainly do so; and say in your message the sun has come, that all is well and happy; give lat.i.tude and longitude exactly."

"Do you really think these birds ever reach home?"

"Now," said Dr Barrett, "that is a question that many would ask. Many doubt the capabilities of flight or home instincts of sea-birds. I am as firmly convinced that a seagull, which has been reared in captivity from an egg procured from the parent nest and hatched under a duck or fowl, can be made the best of carriers of messages over sea and land, as I am that the sun we have just seen will rise again to-morrow."

"It is not that I altogether doubt it," said Claude; "but you know the story I have confided to you about my love for Meta and my quarrel with my mother--alas! that I should have to give it so harsh a name. Well, although I do not doubt, I sometimes fear."

"I can fully appreciate your feelings, my dear sir," was the reply.

"Rough old sea-dog though I be, I, too, have had my little romance in life. Yes, let the poor bird fly; it will reach in safety."

But it may be as well to say at once here that the good doctor was rather sanguine, for of all the six sea-birds that had been, or would be, let fly, only two reached Iceland safely. One of these had been thrown up near Desolation Point; it was that bird which reached home.

"Ought I to communicate the safety of her son to the proud Lady Alwyn?"

had been Meta's thought on receiving the welcome intelligence. She dreaded doing so; she feared to put harder feelings in the lady's heart against poor Claude than she already possessed. "Besides," argued Meta, "the _Kittywake_ will soon return and bring her the news that I do not doubt she is pining to hear, if she only loves him half as much as I do."

The other bird that made its haven in Iceland, though I ought not to antic.i.p.ate, was one of the last sent up. Of it I shall have more to say anon.

As soon as the day was an hour long, with about an hour of twilight on each side to back it up, Dr Barrett recommenced his explorations in earnest.

The ground all round the inland sea was of adamant; nor pick nor spade could dare on that. But to continue the mine begun the previous summer was far more feasible, for the snow that had filled it had kept out the frost.

Here, then, work was begun. It would keep the men at earnest exercise, at all events, the doctor said, and prevent sickness.

The mine was soon so far advanced as to be a perfect shelter for the workers, even daring the worst of weather.

When little morsels of nuggets of gold and silver came to be found the excitement grew intense. Even the hands who did not strictly belong to the surgeon's party prayed the captain to permit them to "have a dig,"

as they called it, in their spare moments.

And Claude did not refuse.

Rab McDonald, the third officer, was the first to make a lucky find. It was a nugget of pure gold as big as his thumb, and that was by no means a small one.

"Man! look!" he cried exultingly, showing it round to his fellows.

"I'll soon be as rich as Rothschild."

His face fell somewhat when the doctor quietly told him that all the precious ore found belonged by rights to the company who had sent them out.

A good many more faces fell also, but when Claude explained that he would make such representations as would ensure a goodly percentage of the gold or silver dug out being given to the finders, the enthusiasm was restored, and all hands went to work with a will. For months the gold fever raged among the _Icebear's_ crew, from February till nearly the end of May, and even sports would have been forgotten in the excitement; but about twice a week Claude ordered all hands to play, if the weather was at all propitious. Then football was resumed, and Paddy's wild game of tobogganing also, to say nothing of fishing.

Fishing? you may repeat, in some surprise. Yes, dear reader. It was done so: a hole was made in the ice, and baited hooks were lowered through. But Jack and Joe despised such cultivated plans of proceeding to business, and, if the truth must be told, they were quite as successful, if not more so, than the British sailors. The tackle these Indians used and their method of using it were of the most primitive description. Each had his own ice-hole, each had a short gut line with a strong strangely shaped bone hook. This was lowered into the water, and if fish even snapped at it--and many did, for the fish are hungry in Greenland during winter--out they came, and they never got back.

The days got longer and longer now, and the weather got sensibly less cold, till lo, and behold! about the middle of April the sun rose one morning and announced his intention of not going to bed again for three months and more to come. At all events, he did _not_ set that night.

He only made pretence he would. He went so low on the northern horizon that our heroes fancied he meant disappearing altogether, then he began slowly climbing round again.

Do not imagine, however, that it was all sunshine even now. Far from it. There were terrible gales of wind now, and whirling, drifting snow that seemed to rise as high as the highest mountain peaks.

Some of these hills were evidently extinct volcanoes, but how long ago it might have been since fire and smoke belched from their lofty summits, even Dr Barrett himself would hardly have dared to guess. But working down in their mine one day, about the end of April, the men were startled at hearing a hollow, rumbling sound apparently far down beneath them; it was like the noise of waggon wheels rattling over a rough road, only m.u.f.fled.

The surgeon and Claude were both in the mine at the time.

"Don't be alarmed, men," said the former; "you may safely go on with your work. It is the noise of steam you hear, or rather of water and steam combined. That sound was sent to tell us summer is coming. It is a way the earth has in Greenland."

"You have heard something similar before?" asked Claude.

"I have, only not in Greenland proper, but in caves among the hills in Spitzbergen."

Now, giant cataracts began to tumble down from the cliffs of the mountains, and roaring rivers and torrents appeared where rivers had not been suspected before. Water overflowed the inland sea all around the _Icebear_, making the snow slush, and rendering the pa.s.sage to and from the sh.o.r.e not only difficult but even dangerous.

And this state of things increased, the sky being meanwhile thickly covered over with dark rolling c.u.mulus, drifting onwards on the wings of a southern breeze. But in a day or two the wind fell flat, the clouds were lifted like a veil from east to west; in half an hour's time there was not a cloud in the sky, and the sun shone down cold and clear.

Strange adjectives to use when speaking of the sun, but none other could express my meaning, for this silver shield of a sun seemed shorn of its rays; you could look at it without pain or inconvenience, just as, raising my eyes, I now gaze upon the flame of the oil lamp by which I am writing.

At eight bells next morning, everybody both fore and aft having breakfasted once, and the boy Bounce twice at least, all hands were on deck waiting orders for the day. Presently the captain and surgeon came up, and took a turn or two up and down the quarter-deck, laughing and talking.

Then came the order, "Hands, lay aft."

Claude himself addressed them, laughingly. He did not often say much face to face thus to his men.

"Men," he said, "we're going to have a forenoon on the ice."

"Hurrah!" was the shout.

Round the ship, dear reader, and for no one knows how far out seaward, the water had been frozen into one smooth sheet of ice. Who could resist it?

All the skates in the ship were had up, and, although there were hardly enough, those who went without could slide. While the men waited the next order, there was a scream of terror sounded forward. The mate ran towards the fo'c'sle: there lay poor boy Bounce, bleeding; and standing over him, Datchet, the only black sheep in the ship.

"What do you want with skates, hey?" he was saying.

He had robbed boy Bounce.

When Mr Lloyd ordered Datchet below for the day, the look--nay, scowl-- the man gave the mate was not easily forgotten.

But boy Bounce had the skates, his brow was bandaged, and when the order was given, "All hands over the side!" boy Bounce was first to jump, and was the merriest of all the mad and merry crew on that never-to-be-forgotten morning.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

WILD SPORTS OF THE FAR NORTH--AN ARCTIC STORM--BREAKING UP OF THE SEA OF ICE.