"Yes, your brother," replied Claude.

"Oh!" said Jack, indifferently, "he toomble up plenty quick. No can turn hims kayak again. P'r'aps he go drown, ha! ha?"

It had never occurred to Jack to go to his brother's a.s.sistance. When taxed with his callousness--

"What for I go?" he replied. "No plenty good. P'r'aps Jack he catchee my kayak, and den we bof on us toomble. No, no, not plenty good enough."

"Call away the whalers," bawled Claude.

"Call both away, Mr Lloyd."

There was a trampling of feet, and a rattling of blocks and tackle, and in two minutes both took the water with a plash.

"A guinea to the first boat that reaches the kayak," cried Claude.

There was a race on then--a very exciting one, though only to save the life of a poor Eskimo Indian.

The kayak could be distinctly seen from the masthead, with poor deserted Joe clinging to it.

Claude went himself to the crow's-nest, to guide the boats by means of the long fan used for such purpose by Greenland-going ships.

The poor fellow was at length rescued, very much exhausted.

By the time he had reached the ship, however, what with the warm sunshine and a stimulant the Spectioneer had administered to him, Joe was all right and smiling.

But his brother Jack, as soon as Joe came on board, pointed at him a stern finger of reproof.

"I 'shamed o' you," he said. "I 'shamed o' you proper. You not can turn your kayak, ha! ha! You no true Indian. Suppose one shark snap your two legs off, dat do you plenty mooch good. Bah!"

The summer pa.s.sed away only too quickly; it pa.s.sed, but not in vain, for Dr Barrett had done much good for the cause of science; and, reader, science always does or always should bring us nearer to Him who made all things and rules over them by unchangeable laws that He knows are good, whatever we finite beings may dare to imagine.

The summer pa.s.sed; Claude and all his crew had enjoyed splendid sport.

I wish I had s.p.a.ce to tell of the adventures they had, some of them wild enough in all conscience. But while enjoying themselves there had been no neglect of duty, with one sad, solitary exception presently to be mentioned.

"I am very glad to say," remarked Dr Barrett, one evening at dinner, "that I have succeeded in doing about all I believe that our learned friends in England wanted me to do, thanks to your good judgment, Captain Alwyn, in steering us to this wondrous country."

"And so am I glad also," replied Claude. He was thinking of home just then. "Let me see," continued the doctor, musingly, "I have collected quite a museum of specimens of Arctic flora and even fauna. To the lichen world I have, I think, added not a few species. .h.i.therto unknown.

I have taken observations of every conceivable kind; there is a record of them in my notes. I have, or, pardon me for my egotism, we have discovered coal--that is of little use, perhaps; iron--that exists everywhere; tin--that is more to the purpose; silver and gold, and these are better still. We have also," he went on, "found the bones of extinct mammals, and the evidences on all sides that at one time the hills around us, or hills like them, were covered with forest and fern, and inhabited by a race of animals that we human beings too often, I think, call inferior. We have, moreover--"

"I beg your pardon, sir," said the steward. "May I speak to you half a minute?"

The doctor followed him into the steerage.

He soon returned, looking serious and vexed.

"Beast!" he muttered.

"I hope," said Claude, "there is no one in this ship deserves that t.i.tle, doctor."

"Will you come and see for yourself, sir?"

"I will."

Claude followed the doctor out to the steerage and into the dispensary.

There he pointed to an almost empty bottle of brandy.

He said nothing.

"Do you mean me to infer," said Claude, "that one of my crew has been guilty of a theft so vile?"

The doctor nodded.

"And who?"

"Who but Datchet?"

"Mr Lloyd," shouted Alwyn, "bring Datchet before me to-morrow morning."

Datchet was duly punished, Dr Barrett, however, begging mitigation of sentence on the plea that he had left temptation in the man's way.

Time went on, and everything was got ready for a start. In a few more days the order would be, "Up anchor, and hey for Merrie England!"

All hands were happy. Small wonder at that. It was Friday night. The _Icebear_ would sail on the Monday, the stores having still to be got on board from the house on sh.o.r.e.

Friday night is, in many northern ships, held somewhat _en gala_, as the day is a salt-fish day, so to-night there was a huge sea-pie cooked for the half-deck officers, and several such for the men forward.

Everything seemed propitious as regards the weather, for though dense fogs had prevailed for a week or two--it was early in August--the sky was now clear and the gla.s.s slowly but steadily rising. So the men were right merry. Paddy O'Connell had never appeared to such advantage. The boy Bounce was even allowed to tell a story and sing a London street ballad; while big Byarnie sat in a corner, beaming over with gigantic smiles.

But by ten o'clock sounds were hushed, and all hands in bed fore and aft. There was not now a sound to break the stillness, for the solitary sentry had gone below to smoke by the galley fire.

An hour pa.s.sed away; then a solitary figure might have been seen creeping aft on hands and knees.

Two hours. The captain is sleeping sound; his hand is over the coverlet. Into this hand a cold wet nose is thrust.

"Go away and sleep, Fingal," he mutters.

But the dog whines, and finally barks, and then Claude starts up, fully awake now.

See, across the cabin yonder is the reflection of a strange light in the gla.s.s!

He springs to the deck and rushes to the door, which is open.

There is fire in the store-closet between his cabin and the wardroom.

Fire in the spirit-store!

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, went the bell two strokes to the second.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, and in a minute the whole ship is alive.