In the Land of the Great Snow Bear - Part 18
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Part 18

It was a matter of no small wonderment to the men of the _Icebear_ why Dr Barrett should now, in a great measure, forsake the mine, where it seemed that wealth could be acc.u.mulated, slow though it might be in coming.

But the worthy surgeon "ken't his ain ken," as the Scotch say; in other words, he knew what he was about. He was not a gold-digger nor a silver-miner: he was sent out for the purpose of scientific discovery; not to load the _Icebear_ with the spoils of this frozen wilderness, but to spy out the richness of the land.

Was it not possible, he argued with himself, that at some future day an expedition might be sent out, and a company formed to work mines here.

It would give him, Dr Barrett, the greatest pleasure to be in charge of it Meanwhile he was very busy indeed.

Dr Barrett's character and habits were such as might well be imitated by the youth of the rising generation, both male and female. Let me give one or two examples of it.

ONE. He was never idle unless taking wholesome healthful recreation.

TWO. He considered the strict performance of duty as a part and parcel of his religion, and its neglect a grievous and _cowardly_ sin.

THREE. He was always ahead of the work he had to perform, and therefore always easy in his mind.

FOUR. He had method and exactness in carrying on his work.

FIVE. Having done his duty he trusted all else to that kind Providence who guides and rules everything here below.

Yes, the doctor was busy and kept his men busy.

As long as the snow lay on the ground sledging expeditions were made every day, if it did not blow too high, or if the drifting snow was not blinding.

Very pleasant and delightful, sometimes, were those sledging trips, very dangerous at others. The sledges were large and strong; they had been built specially for the purpose, and were furnished, not only with plenty of provisions, but with all that would be necessary in an extended tour of, say, a week, though three days was generally about the limit the doctor gave himself. He was hardy himself, and cared little for fatigue; he was, in fact, an enthusiast, but he hesitated to expose his men too much. Besides, he had sick patients on board, and an accident might happen at any time.

There was plenty of capital sport to be got in these rambles. The animals that had returned to this country, however, were not yet very numerous. Bears there were, but they could certainly as yet have but little to eat. They growled about among the rocks, and wandered by the side of ice-water swollen streams. Probably they caught fish, perhaps they lived on love; but there they were, lean, long, and hungry looking, their great s.h.a.ggy coats alone preventing them from having the appearance of downright starvation.

But precisely in the ratio of their hunger was their ferocity. The very sight of a man made them howl with anger.

"Come on!" they seemed to cry. "I won't run away; I'm not afraid of such as you. Come on, and be eaten up."

There were two "hands" in the ship who took great delight in these pleasure parties; one was Paddy, the other the boy Bounce, and both const.i.tuted themselves Dr Barrett's special attendants and body-guard.

Paddy, of course, carried a rifle; and, after some preliminary training, boy Bounce was permitted to do so likewise. And right proud was the lad to march at his master's heels with his gun and his shot-belts.

His master was terribly absent-minded.

Boy Bounce used to relate of an evening, to his special friend--on board--the cook, how many times a day he saved his master's life.

"Blowed if he wouldn't walk right into the river sometimes!" said boy Bounce, "if I didn't holler at 'im; or over a cliff, if I didn't pull 'im back by the coat-tails."

One fine sunny day the doctor was sitting sketching a pretty snow scene--ice, mountain, glen, and waterfall, and the boy Bounce was lying not far from his feet, facing him.

"Ahem!" began the boy. "I say, sir."

"Well, well, well?" cried the doctor, impatiently.

"It's a dee-licious morning--ain't it, sir?"

The surgeon made no reply, but went on sketching.

"Think the frost'll hold, sir?"

The doctor looked up now--he knew boy Bounce's ways.

"What else have you to say, boy, eh? Out with it."

"Oh, nothing sir, only there's been a bear a-squatting yonder, and a-lookin' at ye for the last five minutes, and maybe he's going to spring."

Dr Barrett sprang first though. The monster was within thirty yards of him. He seized boy Bounce's rifle, and next moment Bruin rolled over the ledge dead at their feet.

"Why didn't you hit him, you young goose?"

"Cause as 'ow, sir," said boy Bounce, coolly, "you told me never to do nought 'athout first consulting you."

"Is it a bear?" said Paddy, rushing to the scene of action.

"Well," replied the doctor, smiling as he resumed his work, "it is something very like it, Paddy."

"Sure and it's meself ought to have killed him, and not that young spalpeen Bounce."

Boy Bounce smiled and took all the credit, and Paddy at once set about taking Bruin out of his jacket, singing to himself some wild Irish lilt as he did so.

There was one other individual who attached himself to these sleighing expeditions, who had really no business there, namely, the n.o.ble deerhound Fingal.

I have no idea what induced him to do so, unless it was to const.i.tute himself captain over the two teams of dogs, and to enjoy good sport among the Arctic foxes, to say nothing of the grand galloping he had.

Fingal used to fly along at the head of the foremost team, keeping well beyond reach, however, of the leader's fangs and of the driver's cracking thong. He used to hunt the foxes on his own account all day, and spent his whole night in keeping them off the camp.

There is no end to the impudence these little animals possess, especially when snow is on the ground. They are then mostly white. I have an idea that, like Scotch hares, they change their colour with the season of the year; at all events, in summer they are of many different hues, and they then keep farther away from the habitations of men.

At night, in snow time, they are singularly annoying. They yelp and yap, and howl and fight, and unless you are very tired indeed, sleep is all but impossible. If you fire at one and wound it, the chances are he will not run off if he could. You march up to club him, and he grins and whines and fawns at you in the most ridiculous manner; in fact, he _argues with you_. Well, what _can_ you do with a wounded animal who argues with you? You cannot brain him. No, you simply retire, feeling mightily ashamed of yourself for having fired at him.

Wounded monkeys have this same trick, and several other animals I could name.

Camping out by the River Thames in the sweet summer-time, and camping in the shelter of a rock on the snowfields of the far north, are two very different things. The members of Dr Barrett's sledging parties and the doctor himself slept in the sledges; slept with their bodies in warm flannel-lined bags, with rags over this, and rags right over their heads. Even then it was bitterly, oppressively cold.

The men of the _Icebear_ used to envy Jack and Joe, the Eskimo Indians, who slept on the snow near their dogs with no other covering except the clothes they had worn during the day.

Fingal, poor fellow, never rested by night--if night I dare call it, with the sun ablaze in the sky--he was constantly roaming round the camp doing sentry duty, and keeping off the gangs of foxes. Often a horrid yelling would awaken all hands, and, on looking up, Fingal would be seen shaking a fox as Sarah Jane shakes a mat or a carpet skin.

One evening in May, when the sun was declining, or taking his dip towards the lower part of the northern sky, clouds began to bank rapidly up from the south-west. It had been clear and frosty before this.

It soon grew quite dusk. The clouds were very dense and very black--in great rolling ma.s.ses that certainly threatened something most unusual.

Dr Barrett gazed with some uneasiness at the gathering storm.

In less than half an hour the sky was entirely obscured, and the wind, which had blown at first as if to place the clouds in position, fell dead. So for a time matters remained, the clouds still in shapeless ma.s.ses rolling around among each other without any apparent cause.

Gradually, however, they lost shape, and the whole firmament merged into one unbroken vault of darkest grey. Then pellets of snow, not bigger than millet seeds, began to fall, faster and faster and faster.

Dr Barrett gave orders for the camp to be made up at once, and supper to be cooked.