  NEQUA OR The Problem of the Ages By JACK ADAMS VOL. I. EQUITY PUBLISHING COMPANY DEDICATION. To all lovers of humanity, wherever found who believe that the application of the Golden Rule in human affairs would remove all the burdens that ignorance and greed have imposed upon the masses of mankind, this volume is respectfully dedicated by The Author. Copyrighted 1900, by CONTENTS.
EXPLANATORY. The undersigned claims no credit for the concept of an "Inner World" in which the great economic problems which now confront the people had been solved in the interest of humanity and ideal conditions established for all. This was the leading thought in a work by Dr. T.A.H. Lowe, deceased, which was placed in the hands of the writer by his widow, Mrs. Mary P. Lowe. It contains a glowing description of the ideal conditions which would prevail under the practical application of the principles of Freedom, Equality and Fraternity in human affairs but the author died before he had an opportunity to work out a practical system by which the masses of the people, situated as they now are, without even a clear understanding as to just what is the matter, could commence with existing conditions, and peacefully, effectually and speedily establish the much to be desired system of absolute justice in distribution which he described. Hence it was determined to prepare a series of volumes, illustrating the operation of practical working methods by which this result could be secured, and then, publish Dr. Lowe's original volume, just as it was written as a fitting conclusion; and we now take pleasure in presenting to the reader the first volume of the series and respectfully ask a candid consideration of the principles which it is designed to elucidate. Jack Adams. NEQUA.
chapter chapter Y private office was on the second floor of the sanitarium which I had fitted up in Kansas City to meet the demands of my large practice in the treatment of chronic diseases. The furniture consisted of a large book case, containing my library of standard works, and other publications useful in my practice; a writing desk, a few chairs, sofa and other conveniences usually found in such places. One door opened into the hall, and another connected with my bed chamber, bath room and laboratory in the rear. In the front was a large bay window where I often sat, in a meditative mood, concealed by the heavy lace curtains, looking out upon the throngs of people and numerous vehicles passing to and fro on the street below. On the opposite side of the main hall, and separated from it by the wide stairway, was the parlor where I received visitors. In the rear of this were the consultation and operating rooms. I usually lunched in my private office, my meals being sent up to me on an elevator, from a restaurant connecting directly with the sanitarium. As a rule, no one but the office boy, who occupied a small room over the stairway, was ever admitted to my private office. The boy attended the door, conducted visitors to the parlor, and then reported who was in waiting. If I cared to see them, I went around the head of the stairs to the parlor; otherwise I was "Not in." Many of my patients came from a distance and had lodgings and board in the sanitarium. Others called at my reception rooms during my regular office hours, which were from 9 to 11 A.M. At other hours I was ordinarily occupied in my private office, reading, thinking and writing, or in my laboratory compounding medicines, etc. But it was generally understood that I frequently drove out, and hence people calling to see me, except during office hours, were not surprised to learn that I could not be seen. This arrangement was an absolute necessity in order that I might have time to attend to my large correspondence and make my usual study of the diseases of patients who had placed themselves under my treatment as their last hope of regaining health. My success in treating these cases which had been given up as incurable, was such, that the sanitarium was always full, and it was a rare thing indeed, that I called upon patients at their homes. One bright and unusually pleasant day in June 189—, after I had attended to my patients, I retired to my private office, feeling that a call, even from my most intimate friends, would be very undesirable. I wanted to be alone. I had many letters to write, and other work that I could not well neglect, but I seemed in spite of myself to have lost my usual active interest in my business. I felt oppressed and dissatisfied with its restraints, and after worrying through with my most important correspondence, I got up and paced the floor to and fro. What could it mean? Why was it I felt this restless longing for something that seemed just beyond my reach? My business was flourishing, my health was never better, my friends were numerous and all my surroundings pleasant. Then why was it that I could not compose myself to read or write? Whenever I tried to do anything, my mind involuntarily reverted to the past, and especially to a voyage I had taken some years before in the capacity of ship surgeon. At last I despaired of being able to complete my work to my satisfaction, and determined to indulge this irresistible tendency to retrospection. All the afternoon, whatever I did or attempted to do, my mind turned to Jack Adams, a beardless young man who shipped on the same vessel with me as super-cargo. Turn which way I would, his image loomed up before my memory with a vividness that was startling. Why should I be continually thinking of him? True, we had been the closest of friends, and often spent hours together in the most enjoyable conversations. However, notwithstanding our intimacy, there had ever hung around Jack an air of fathomless mystery. His character was faultless, his modesty, refinement and culture unexcelled. His perceptions were keen, his reasoning powers deep and comprehensive, and his innate truthfulness inspired every one with unlimited confidence who came in contact with him. In times of peril he was courageous as a lion and yet he was gentle as a woman. He was of medium size and perfectly rounded form, too refined in his appearance to be masculine, but none the less active and efficient; and I must say that his face was the most handsome, and the most expressive of the finer emotions of the soul, I had ever met with in man. We were the most congenial of associates, and I was more attached to his personality than I had ever before been to one of my own sex. Though young and beardless, his intellect was mature beyond his years, and by common consent the old and experienced soon came to honor his unusually remarkable judgment. To me, he was a phenomenon that I was utterly unable to fathom. While he was not shy, he was always reserved and retiring. He never intruded where he had no business except in my cabin, where he often came to while away an hour discussing themes of lofty and far reaching import. He seemed not to live on the common plane of ordinary life, but soared far above it. Still he attended to all his duties in a prompt and energetic manner, often lending a helping hand to others when there was no necessity for him to move a muscle. He seemed to take real pleasure in lightening the burdens of others even at a sacrifice of his own comfort. Such was Jack Adams, who had worked himself up from the most menial employments on shipboard to a position of responsibility. Such was my most valued friend, always reserved and reticent with others, but genial, sociable and confidential with me, notwithstanding the disparity in our ages. But why should he now be intruding upon my memory, and holding my thoughts to himself by a mystic chord which I had no power to break, much as I had striven to do so? I had left the sea at the close of this voyage, the memory of which had haunted me all day. I had scarcely thought of Jack Adams for years, and now I found it impossible to keep from thinking of him all the time. I became almost superstitious, and began to speculate that perhaps he had just passed from earth, and that his spirit was now with me trying to force a recognition. As I was thus ruminating, my office boy announced that a gentleman wanted to see me. I was just about to send back the word "Not in," when behind the boy, through the half open door, I beheld a tall, handsome and elegantly dressed man, of commanding personal appearance. My rule had been never to permit anyone to enter my private apartments except on my personal invitation, and as the boy seemed entirely unconscious of his presence, I knew that some mistake had been made, and instinctively felt that the man was not an intruder; so all that remained for me was to recognize the requirements of common politeness and invite him in. As he entered the room I mentally took his photograph. He was tall, symmetrical, powerful, with a high intellectual forehead, dark, deep-set eyes, dark hair and whiskers, and dark complexion. His countenance was very impressive, inspiring the beholder with a feeling of respect and confidence. As the door closed behind him he fixed his large, penetrating eyes upon me as if he were reading my inmost thoughts, and after a moment's scrutiny said: "Have I the honor of addressing Dr. Thomas H. Day, who was a surgeon some years ago on a vessel engaged in the East India Trade?" "Yes," I replied, "that is my name, and I was surgeon on an East Indiaman." "Then," he continued, "may I further ask if you remember a young man on the vessel in the capacity of super-cargo, who greatly trusted and confided in you?" His words penetrated my inmost being like a shock and I exclaimed impulsively: "You mean Jack Adams! I feel it! I know it! Is he still living?" "He is alive and well," he said, "and your prompt recognition demonstrates that you are the man I am looking for. I bring you word from Jack Adams. He was also a trusted friend of mine, in whom I felt deeply interested, when he occupied the humble position of cabin boy on a steamer between New York and Liverpool." His words came to me like a flash of sunlight, dispelling at once the clouds which had seemed to paralyze all my energies. I felt that any word from Jack Adams would be an inexpressible relief to my present agitated state of mind. I grasped my visitor's hand with a warmth I could not restrain, and with an enthusiasm that must have appeared to him effusive, I said: "Thank God! Your words thrill me with delight. I will esteem any message from Jack Adams a blessing, and the messenger a benefactor. You are indeed a welcome visitor, and you have placed me under bonds of gratitude by removing a most oppressive burden from my mind." He returned the pressure of my hand in a manner I had hardly expected, and handed me a card on which was traced a significant inscription in Jack's well known handwriting which, if any confirmation was necessary, would have removed every possible doubt. Shaking his hand again I asked: "Will we ever have a world of truth such as has been the dream of every altruist?" "Jack has found it," said my visitor, "and we must make it. That is the mission he sends me on. He has made it his life work to discover just how this may be accomplished with the greatest ease, and to convey the information to us." "Then you are doubly welcome," I said. "Be seated and make yourself at home. I hail you as a brother in a common cause, even if, as yet, I have no name by which to call you." "Excuse me," he said, "I should have introduced myself before, but I was so overjoyed at finding Dr. Day that I forgot he knew nothing about me. My name is Leo Vincennes. I have been in the public service in some capacity, ever since I came to years of maturity; as soldier, sailor, scout, and later, as civil engineer and explorer. I come now from Alaska, and my special business here is to see you and deliver a message, committed to my care by our esteemed brother and co-worker, Jack Adams." I had moved my chair as near to him as decorum would permit, and said in reply: "I am indeed happy to meet you, Mr. Vincennes. I have been thinking of Jack all day, and I want you to tell me all about him." "I saw him last at Cape Lisburne, on the northwestern coast of Alaska, where I was on the lookout for a vessel that was to take me and my party to San Francisco. We were employed on the coast survey, and our allotted portion of the work included the cape, where we went into camp about the last of June. Our lookout was on top of the bluff, which at this point rises to a height of about eight hundred feet above the level of the sea. The other members of our party were out on a hunt while I remained at the lookout. Through my glass I had a clear view of the sea for leagues away, and I continued to sweep the horizon with my glass, as the unusually early breaking up of the ice led me to expect the appearance of a ship at any time. I casually turned my glass and espied a speck on the horizon, a little to the east of north, that at first gave me the impression of a distant sail. Not thinking of a vessel from that direction, I observed it more closely, and soon saw that it was not on the surface of the water, but evidently in the air and coming directly toward me. It looked like some monstrous bird, of a magnitude such as I had never conceived. "In my long experience as a soldier, sailor, scout and explorer of the polar regions, I had been accustomed to remarkable adventures, and had come to take pride in the fact that I could face danger of any kind without a tremor; but I do not hesitate to confess that as this gigantic, winged phenomenon of the heavens bore down toward me, I quivered in every vein and fiber of my being. It came with a rapidity that was startling, and ere I could recover my equanimity sufficiently to determine whether I should try to get out of the way or take my chances with the monster, it came to a halt directly over my head, and I could see that it was some kind of a mechanical contrivance for navigating the air, and that its movements were controlled by human intelligence. It remained stationary for a moment, as if the occupant were taking observations, and then dropped slowly down and alighted on the highest point of the cape, within twenty feet of where I was standing. As this strange vessel came to a rest, a door opened and out stepped a young man who said in the clearest of English: "'Well, well, I declare! Here is the same Leo Vincennes who gave me my first lessons in navigation. How glad I am to see you so far north. I was heading due south for the mouth of the Yukon, when I discovered you scanning the horizon with your glass. I then changed my course a little to the west and came directly to you.' I recognized his features, but was dazed and stood rooted to the ground. Seeing my embarrassment, he advanced, extending his hand as he said: 'Surely you have not forgotten Jack Adams, the cabin-boy, who sailed on the same ship with you from New York to Liverpool, and asked you so many questions about ships and a seafaring life.' "I grasped his hand, but for a moment my brain seemed benumbed, and my tongue, to use an oft quoted phrase, 'clave to the roof of my mouth.' I could only look at him in open eyed wonder—the same smooth-faced lad that I had known and admired—nay loved, fifteen years ago. My temporary paralysis gave way to a flood of feeling such as I had never experienced before, and I convulsively shook his hand as I exclaimed: "'Yes! yes! My dear old Jack, I remember you, but never again did I expect to meet you—and least of all on this barren rock, in the regions of eternal ice, beneath the midnight sun, and dropping from the heavens to this mundane sphere. Where did you come from and whither are you going? Have you put off this mortality with all its weakness and put on immortality in some far off clime of perpetual youth, beyond the utmost limit of our earthly vision?' "'Hold on Leo,' he exclaimed, with that mischievous twinkle in his eye that I remember so well, 'don't for Heaven's sake get superstitious. Remember that if the Kingdom of Heaven can be established in us, there evidently must be more in this mundane sphere than has ever been dreamed of in our philosophy. I am no visitant from another world, but I do come from another country, where man is master of his environments, instead of being their servile victim, just as you and I and all of the brothers and sisters on our plane of thought, believe that all of this glorious old world ought to be. We must continue to spread the light, and inspire our common humanity, in every stage of development, wherever found, with higher aspirations and brighter ideas of what is in store for them. We must give them hope and courage. The good time coming, so oft foretold, is almost here, and it will be realized just as soon as a respectable minority can be brought to fully comprehend the way out of all their miseries, as well as they now understand the crushing effects of their present environments. It is for us to speak the word that will save them from all their miseries, pains, and woes, here and now, without waiting for some far off time, and wonderful change to be brought about in some mysterious and incomprehensible manner. No! No! Leo, this is no time for us to stop and simply wonder at something that is merely the birth-right of every human being, while by a little well devised, intelligent and earnest effort on the part of the very few reformers who are not yet entirely submerged, we can secure to every human being every blessing he or she is capable of appreciating. There is nothing impossible about this, and if the world is not redeemed from its present low estate, it will be because the few altruists in the world do not make the necessary effort;—and they will surely make that effort when they comprehend how easy it is to quietly and peacefully remove the burdens that ignorance and greed have imposed, and thus rescue the toiler from the grasp of the selfish. How much are you willing to do toward this work of saving the world? Could you be persuaded to forget self for awhile and lend your services to the cause of humanity, by spreading the light that will save it, and save it too before even the older people of this generation shall have passed off the stage?' "I was carried away by his earnest appeal, and promptly responded: "'I am indeed willing to make any conceivable sacrifice in such a cause, my dear old Jack, but you must tell me what to do and how to do it.' "'Then can you go into the interior of the United States—to the great Missouri Valley, and deliver a message from me to a dearly loved friend, which will secure his assistance?' "'I certainly will,' I said. 'Personal matters require my presence in New York. I shall go from here to San Francisco, and thence across the continent by rail, and can stop off at any point you desire. I have been notified that, in the private papers of Richard Sage, who died some years ago, a document was found, clearly proving that I am one of the heirs to a large property, which was held in trust for minors, whose whereabouts were unknown to the testator, my grandfather. I am the representative of those heirs.' "As I spoke, Jack's countenance became ashen pale and the expression hard and stony, and as I concluded he asked in tones that struck me with a chill like a polar wave: "'And is Richard Sage dead?' "'He died nearly fifteen years ago,' I said. 'Committed suicide, I believe. Did you know him?' "'I think so,' he said. 'He was a friend of my father—But,' he added after a short pause, his face regaining its usual winning and kindly expression, 'we have no time to give to the discussion of the dead past. Come with me and take a look at our earth from the cosy cabin of the Eolus, while I tell you something of my adventures in the way of polar exploration, and explain what it is that I want you to do.' "We stepped into a small but luxuriantly furnished car, which I shall not attempt to describe, and seated ourselves upon a soft cushioned divan. The walls were paneled on all sides with large transparent sections, through which we obtained a clear and seemingly magnified view of the surrounding scenery. There we were, poised on the highest point of this towering rock, overlooking the sea, the rolling waves of which dashed themselves into foam on the rocks below. Jack manipulated a delicately arranged keyboard at his side, and in a minute more we were flitting to and fro far above the earth at an almost inconceivable speed, and then loitering along or standing still to get a better view of objects of especial interest. "Jack handed me what looked like a peculiarly constructed opera glass, and requested me to take a peep at Cape Lisburne through the transparent section at the bow. Though we were miles away, I felt that I could reach out and pick up a pebble anywhere along this rock-bound shore. This explained a mystery, and I turned to Jack and said: 'I can now understand how it was that you discovered me at such a great distance, for when I first saw you, your ship was but a speck, and several points to the east of north.' "'Yes,' he said, 'I discovered you on the lookout when several leagues away. I had not expected to find civilized people so far north. As soon as I saw you, I put the Eolus to her greatest speed directly toward you, lest you should leave the lookout. As I came nearer I felt sure that I recognized your features, and I at once made up my mind that I had found one whom I could trust to assist me in the work I had undertaken to perform. This fortunate meeting enables me to return immediately, and relieve the painful anxiety of many loving hearts concerning my safety. They had a most exaggerated conception of the perils I would be compelled to encounter in attempting to traverse these frozen regions.' "He told me a wonderful story of his trials, perils and adventures in getting past the great ice barriers, and his discovery of a World of Truth beyond. "When we had circumnavigated the country for miles around, we slowly descended to earth and alighted at the same spot from which we started, and as we separated, he to return to his new home beyond the ice barriers, I to come to you, he placed his portmanteau in my hands and said: "'Go to Dr. Thomas K. Day, at Kansas City, and if he will agree to publish the manuscript contained in this portmanteau and scatter it broadcast over the world, place it in his hands and tell him to use the gold contained also therein, which was contributed by the crew of the Ice King for that purpose; for nothing but gold, the fetich of this benighted and money enslaved external world, can command labor; and yet it is labor and not gold, that is the sole producer of everything essential to the sustenance and comfort of humanity. If Dr. Day cannot be found, or is so situated that he cannot attend to this matter, use the gold yourself to find a publisher, and have eight printed volumes for me when I return with another manuscript of even more value, from the same fruitful field of discovery.' "And now Dr. Day," continued my visitor, "will you undertake to discharge the trust committed to you by Jack Adams?" "I will gladly do so" I replied, "for anything from Jack will surely be a blessing to humanity." He placed the portmanteau in my hands and said: "I must bid you adieu. Send the eight volumes for Jack to my address at Fort Yukon, Alaska, and as many more for myself, unless I should send you other directions. I shall be anxious to read the book as soon as it is published. Jack must have passed through some trying ordeals, and from what I saw, his discoveries have been wonderful. But I must go." I tried to detain him, but with a cordial grasp of the hand he was gone. I turned and opened the portmanteau with the key that was attached. It contained a package, securely enclosed in a wrapper of some water-proof material, and marked "MS," and below was a glittering array of gold eagles. I examined the package of manuscript more closely. On either side it was addressed to Dr. Thomas H. Day, Kansas City, and below was written: "In the name of civilization I ask that whoever may find this package shall place it in the hands of those who will publish the MS. contained therein and have it scattered broadcast over the world, so that the discoveries recorded shall not be lost to humanity. This was repeated in French, German, Norwegian, Russian and Spanish. And now dear reader, I shall give you the contents of this remarkable manuscript, from the pen of my sailor comrade of years ago, Jack Adams, but known in his new home as Nequa, the teacher. Ponder well the lessons taught in these wonderful discoveries. Yours truly, chapter
chapter chapter WAS in the parlor of the Palace Hotel in San Francisco. Since my last visit to the city, I had circumnavigated the globe. During the last three years, I had not only again visited the leading points of interest for tourists in Asia, Africa, Europe and Australia, but had extended my travels into the frozen regions of the far south, on a whaling voyage. Yet I had not found that for which I was searching. My failure had brought a feeling of intense sadness and depression which I shall not attempt to describe. For fifteen years I had been a wanderer on the high seas. I had traversed every latitude from Greenland to the South frigid zone and was now mentally asking "Where shall I go next?" I had determined that I would not give up this long continued search until it was crowned with success, or death had intervened, as long as there was one spot on earth unexplored. Thus pondering in my own mind what to do next, I picked up an evening paper and abstractedly glanced over its pages in the attempt to form an idea of its contents by reading the headlines. In the editorial columns my eye rested on the caption: "OFF TO THE NORTH POLE." This was travel into a region I had not penetrated. I was at once interested and glancing down the column I read the comments of the editor. "The discovery of America," he said, "was the attempt to discover a more direct and consequently a nearer route to India by sailing westward. The object sought for was not found, but the search gave to the overcrowded and oppressed millions of Christendom a new world, where they might work out their destiny in conformity with the ideal of the founder of their religion, beyond the reach of the political and religious despotisms of the old world; and why may not this venture, even though it fails to reach the pole, ultimate in discoveries of inestimable value to mankind? We hope so, and hence we wish the most abundant success to the expedition now being organized in this city, by an experienced traveler and navigator, Capt. Raphael Ganoe." The paper dropped from my hand; I was overcome; my senses were paralysed; my heart almost ceased to beat; my brain for a moment was deprived of the power of thought. As the full import of this unexpected revelation dawned upon me, I arose and paced the floor. "My God," I exclaimed, "this cannot be, it must not be, but how can I prevent it? All the arrangements are perfected. I cannot, I dare not, under the circumstances, speak the word that possibly might prevent this perilous undertaking." I was powerless. But I soliloquized, "If I cannot prevent it, I must join the expedition, for never again will I permit him to leave me." My mind was made up. I was in the prime of life, about thirty-five years of age, and had traveled extensively. I was familiar with ocean navigation and versed in all the sciences taught in our higher institutions of learning. I would make application for the position of scientist, and failing in that would enlist before the mast as a common sailor, if nothing better offered. I turned to the mirror and surveyed myself long and earnestly. I raised myself to my full height and critically viewed the womanly face and figure revealed to my vision. Though not masculine, my form was strong and muscular for one of my sex, and with the proper disguise it would do. For the first time in years I had donned the habiliments of woman. In masculine attire I had traveled without being discovered. Protected by this disguise, I had filled almost every position on shipboard and had succeeded in earning a competency, something I never could have accomplished as a woman. It was not an experiment. I had tried it successfully for years and would try it again. I took up the paper and read the account of the expedition with more care. The ship was one of the staunchest that had ever been built and had been provided with all the modern appliances for the comfort and protection of the crew, during a cruise that was intended to be indefinitely extended. None but bold and experienced seamen had been enlisted. As time was no object it was intended to use the sails instead of steam whenever it was practicable. Hence the large space usually given to coal was mainly reserved for an unusual supply of carefully prepared provisions for a long sojourn in the Arctic regions. Every thing that human foresight could devise for the success of this expedition had been provided. The daring commander had determined to take all the time that was needed for making careful surveys of the shore lines of the frozen north, and sounding its seas. My mind was made up. I retired at once to my rooms. The male attire that I had used so successfully, was in my trunks. I need not worry the reader at this time with the details of my hasty yet thorough preparation for concealing my identity from the keen observation of one who knew me so much better than the many with whom I had been associated in my wanderings. Suffice it to say that every arrangement was completed in my private apartments, without exciting the suspicion of any person. I dressed myself in a neat sailor suit, which was concealed from view beneath the ample folds of a fashionable wrapper. I packed my trunks, summoned a porter and ordered my goods removed to furnished rooms that I had previously engaged. When there, I removed every article that would indicate that I was a woman, and with valise in hand took my way to the dock, where the Ice King was being fitted up with the greatest care by the experienced navigator in whose services it was my intention to enlist. It was in the early twilight of a glorious evening in May 189—. I lingered a few moments on the wharf to enjoy the scene and to collect my faculties for the trial that was to come. I was tall and slender and my appearance was youthful and refined. Yet I flattered myself that with my long experience in this disguise, I would be able to successfully act the part I had determined upon. As I stepped on board, I met an officer who accosted me with the familiar salutation: "Hello Jack, what will you have?" "I want to see Captain Ganoe," I said. "Where can I find him?" "He is in his cabin," he replied, and passed on. I gained the deck. The calm waters of the bay reflected the full rounded moon and her stellar attendants. The harbor was almost deserted. Vessels here and there dotted the placid surface of the water. Music low, sweet and plaintive reached my ears. Its melancholy strains drew me forward. The soul of the performer seemed to float out upon the air through the tender caresses of the magic bow. The very waves, as they sparkled in the mellow moonbeams, seemed to dance to the sweet melody. It came from the Captain's quarters. I passed in so quietly that I was not observed. As I suspected, the musician was Captain Ganoe. He was so absorbed in the plaintive notes of the violin, through which his soul was speaking, that he did not notice my intrusion. He was in thought, far away and oblivious to his surroundings. I stood and carefully scanned the form before me. It was that of a man of mature years, broad shoulders and medium height, firmly knit, compactly built and fair complexion. His eyes were blue, his nose a combination of Grecian and Roman, his mouth firm, and his entire bearing indicative of courage and strength of character. His brow was broad and thoughtful; his expression kind and firm. Everything left the impression that, though comparatively young, he had drained the cup of bitter disappointment to its dregs. While I sympathized, his sadness brought a feeling of sweet relief. Oh, how my heart bounded, and for the moment I felt impelled to fall upon his bosom and sob out the story of my wrongs. But no, this would not do. I must be patient and first ascertain from his own lips, in just what light he would regard me when he learned the whole truth. I aroused him from his reverie with the inquiry: "Is this Captain Ganoe?" He looked up quickly, surprised to see a stranger in his cabin, and responded: "Yes, young man, I am Captain Ganoe, and let me ask to what I am indebted for the honor of this visit. Did you not meet an officer who could attend to your wants?" "I did," I replied, "but I wanted to see and talk with Captain Ganoe." The severity left his countenance, and he bade me be seated. "Now young man," said he, "please state fully but briefly, what you want, for my time is entirely occupied." I answered promptly, and without preliminary explanations I said: "I have just learned from the papers that you are about to sail for the most thorough exploration of the Arctic regions that has yet been attempted, and I want to go with you." He turned up the lamp which had been burning low, and looked me full in the face. I felt his searching gaze but withstood it, with no exhibition of the fears I felt for the success of my plans. But with inward tremor, I awaited his reply. After hesitating a moment, he said deliberately: "You do not know what you ask. You are young and refined. This expedition must encounter dangers, known and unknown, and none but the strong and experienced should be permitted to make the venture. It would be wrong in me to take a young man like you from the bosom of his family, from society, and all the opportunities for a successful and useful life, to go with me on this perilous expedition. The fact is, you ought to return home and leave such hazardous adventures as this for those who have no hopes to be blasted, and who wish for reasons of their own, to hide themselves away from the world. Please tell me your name and where you come from." "My name sir," I replied, "is Jack Adams, and I have just returned from a three years cruise, during which time I visited the leading seaports of the world. I have become familiar with a life on the high seas in all the medial latitudes, and now propose to explore the frozen north. As to family, I have none. I am an orphan, and all alone in the world. I graduated from school at the head of my class and then shipped as cabin boy and worked my way up to a position of super-cargo. I have been a practical student of navigation—never sailing twice on the same line of travel when I could avoid it. I now offer my services to you because I want to go with you into the unexplored regions of the north. I have had enough of the tropic and temperate zones. If I never return I leave no one to mourn my loss." He looked his astonishment and was visibly softened as he responded: "We have no need of a super-cargo and we have all the seamen we want. I have just formed a co-partnership with Captain Samuel Battell, who is not only an officer of ability and long experience in the Arctics, but an expert scientist and mathematician. Every place seems to be full." "I am not," I replied, "seeking a position as super-cargo, nor am I asking any position that requires pay or even board, if you can find room in your commissary for the supplies I stand ready to furnish. I can and will do any work that may be assigned me. All I want is to be permitted to go with this expedition, take my own chances and pay my own way." "You seem very much in earnest Mr. Adams, and I am frank to admit that I admire your courage even if I doubt your judgment in this matter. But what can you do, and what evidence have you to offer that you can render valuable service in an expedition of this character? As to pay, I would not have you infer that I regarded it as any object to one of your adventurous disposition. No one enlisted in this expedition is promised a salary but the common sailors, and that is paid by Captain Battell and myself." "As to what I can do," I responded, "I am by education and experience, qualified to navigate the vessel and make every necessary scientific observation and calculation. I am familiar with all that has been published on Arctic exploration and discovery. As to my ability, you can best ascertain that by inquiring into what I know. That is the best evidence of my training and experience on the high seas. I do not shrink from the necessary examination." "You are right," said he, "and I will consult my partner. If it is agreeable to him, you may take charge of our library and scientific instruments, assist in our observations and keep a record of the expedition. I will summon Captain Battell." He touched an electric button and in a moment a bell sounded at his side. He said to me: "Captain Battell will be here in a moment, and I will leave this matter to him." A moment later, the same officer I had met when I first came aboard the ship, entered and I was formally introduced. He cordially shook my hand and Captain Ganoe told him what I wanted, and, quite unexpectedly to me, said: "Mr. Adams is admirably qualified, and I think we had better place him in charge of the scientific work of the expedition. We can assist him as occasion requires. This will enable us to give our entire attention to the exigencies of the situation in the dangerous waters of the Arctic regions, while Mr. Adams will keep a record of everything discovered that may be of value, and send out duplicates of the same by the balloons, as we intended, so that if the expedition should be lost, the winds may carry some account of our discoveries to the civilized portions of the globe." Evidently in the mind of Captain Ganoe, I had already been appointed to the position which of all others I would have preferred, and one that would always keep me near his own quarters. And to this, Captain Battell assented, saying: "I met Mr. Adams on his arrival, and was favorably impressed with his appearance and evident determination to see the senior officer of the Ice King." And turning to me he continued, "I will now take pleasure in showing you through the library, which will be your quarters during the voyage." Captain Battell was the opposite of Captain Ganoe in his personal appearance. He was powerfully built, of medium height, dark complexion, dark hair, and steel grey eyes set beneath a broad and beetling brow. The general contour of his features indicated courage, firmness, and strength of character. He was just that type of a man who might be expected to appear to the best advantage in some great emergency that demanded qualities of a high order. All the appointments for the scientific work were of the first quality. The library contained the leading scientific publications, together with encyclopedias, and historic and general literature, carefully catalogued for easy reference. Every kind of scientific instruments, charts, maps, globes, cameras, etc., had been selected with the greatest care. Among the special supplies were the balloons to which Captain Ganoe had referred. These were small and could be inflated at short notice. They were designed to be sent up from time to time with accounts of the expedition, its progress, discoveries etc., hermetically sealed. It is well known that at the equinoxes, the heated air from the tropics ascends to the higher altitudes and flows toward the poles, while the cold air flows toward the equator to fill the vacuum, producing the equinoctial storms. These little balloons were expected to be carried south by the winds, and find a resting place on the land surface where they might be picked up by civilized people; or if they fell into the water, the bottles would preserve the dispatches and the ocean currents might carry them into civilized countries. Thus every precaution was taken to secure to the world the benefit of any discovery that might be made, even though the expedition should be lost. I was well pleased with my quarters. All the surroundings would be, to me, most satisfactory, no matter what the trials and dangers that we might encounter. I was enlisted for the expedition, and in the position I preferred above all others, as it brought me into frequent consultation with the commander, and I should be able to acquaint myself with his present views and feelings and note what changes had taken place since I saw him last. I lost no time in having my trunks brought on board and made ready for the voyage. The Ice King was soon at sea. We stopped at one of the Aleutian Islands where we took on our dog teams, which were to be used for explorations on the ice. The sledges were so constructed that they might readily be converted into boats that would accommodate the whole crew and a good supply of provisions, in case we should be compelled to abandon the ship. We expected to be locked up in the ice during the winter, but with our sledges and dog teams, we could continue our explorations for long distances in every direction, with the ship for headquarters. Captain Battell was a whaler and familiar with all the methods of Arctic travel. His long experience on these northern waters enabled him to forsee many of the dangers we were likely to meet, and to make the needful preparations to overcome them. From this point our voyage northward through Behring Strait and into the Arctic Ocean, was without any incident worth recording. Our course after passing the strait, was a little east of north to avoid the ice, until we reached longitude 165 degrees West of Greenwich, and then north. Captain Ganoe often came into my cabin to while away an hour in conversation. His marked friendship seemed to increase with each visit. He always addressed me familiarly as Jack, and in these conversations he became more and more confidential, and revealed to me more and more of his inner life, his early hopes and subsequent disappointments. One evening after we had been at sea about four months, he came into my cabin looking unusually gloomy. After the customary salutation he lighted a cigar and fell into a brown study, not speaking to me for several minutes, when suddenly he said: "Jack, did you ever think what mere trifles sometimes change the whole course of a life-time? I often wonder at myself for being out here on this wild goose chase, with the certainty of loss of property, business, comfort and possibly life itself, searching for something I have no use for, and which at best if discovered, will only gratify an idle curiosity. And yet, this has been brought about by what was only a trifling incident. Have you ever thought of these strange effects which flow from trivial causes?" He spoke bitterly and I determined to take advantage of the opportunity to draw him out. I wanted to penetrate the inmost recesses of his being, and with this object in view I replied: "Yes, Captain, I have often thought of it and have realized it in my own experience. It sometimes seems little short of a miracle, that after years of wandering, I am now here with you. In my case I was not influenced by a mere trifle, but a stern necessity. I had absolutely nothing to lose, and I thought I might find something which, under the circumstances, would amply repay me for all the hardships and dangers I might have to encounter. But you were differently situated. You were independent. You had wealth, business and influential friends, while I had been robbed of my patrimony, and was thrown upon the world with nothing but my hands and brain to work with. My course was a necessity, but it is a mystery why you should abandon a profitable business and organize this expedition at such an enormous expenditure of labor and money, while you regard its avowed objects as matters of such little importance. Your course seems to involve a self-contradiction that I cannot comprehend." "And thereby hangs a tale," said the Captain. "As a matter of fact, I never did attach any great importance to Arctic exploration. From my point of view, the discovery of the Pole would be of no especial value to mankind, as no practical use could be made of it. Even the discovery of a productive country, which may be possible, could not greatly benefit the world, as it would be inaccessible to the masses of humanity whose condition would be improved by the discovery of a new country and cheap homes. While such a successful culmination would be of small benefit to the world, it would be of still less interest to myself. I really care but little about what we may find at the end of this voyage." "Then," I said, "if such be the estimate that you place upon the objects of this expedition, I am more than ever curious to learn what could have impelled you to undertake it. You must have had a reason of some kind. I cannot understand how men can act without a motive." "Yes," said he, "I was impelled to organize this expedition by a power stronger than myself, but when I ask myself what I expect to accomplish by it, truth compels me to answer: 'Nothing.' As to the motive, I suppose that I have been actuated by an all-absorbing desire to forget the miseries of the past in the activities of the present." "But this is not the tale that unlocks the mystery." I responded. "You have aroused my curiosity to a fever heat, and yet you fail to gratify it. It might be that I could pour oil on the troubled waters and possibly enable you to discover that you have been actuated by a mistaken conception, and that really there is nothing in the past that you should desire to forget. It would certainly do no harm to review the case, and it might reveal the fact that it was a source of misery, simply because all the circumstances were not fully understood." "I have no desire," said the Captain, "to conceal the story of my life from you, if you care to hear it. But I fully understand it and it is of such a nature as to admit of no remedy." "Do not be too sure of that," I said. "But until the story is told, of course I will not be able to form an intelligent opinion of the case. Yet, observation and experience have convinced me that there are always two sides to every question and that to get at the facts in all their bearings, we must closely examine both sides." "Well," said the captain, "I see that you were cut out for a lawyer and the wonder is how you came to be a sailor. You certainly have a judicial cast of mind and to while away the monotony of the hour, I will submit the matter to you, reserving the right, however, to decide for myself. I have always exercised my natural right to examine every question from my own standpoint and decide it according to my own sense of right and wrong. "It is the same old story of an all-absorbing love and a cruel disappointment, followed by long years of suppressed anguish, from which I am still striving to escape. I was an orphan, living with my bachelor uncle, Richard Sage, in one of the suburbs of New York City. He was my guardian and the executor of the estate left me by my father. My uncle was kind and indulgent, and my widowed aunt who presided over his home, was to me a loving mother, and so my childhood days were passed in happy contentment. "One misty, dreary morning, my uncle announced at the breakfast table that he had been called to the bedside of his old friend, James VanNess, who was supposed to be dying. He said he would not return until his friend was much better or dead, and not to be disappointed if he was absent for several days, or possibly weeks. "A week later I saw my uncle drive up to the gate and assist a very beautiful young girl from the carriage. He beckoned me to him, and introduced me, saying: "'Raphael, I have brought you a little sister. This is Miss Cassie VanNess, whose father I was called to see. I have been made her guardian and this will be her future home. Both mother and father are dead and she has no near relatives. Remember this, and do everything in your power to make her home with us as happy as possible.' "We at once became great friends. Cassie was at that time about fourteen or fifteen years of age and I was eighteen. She proved to be the gayest, brightest, most winsome little lady I had ever seen. I must have fallen in love with her at first sight. I have often thought since," he added slowly, "that even his Satanic Majesty might look entrancingly beautiful, for to my intense sorrow, Cassie proved herself, it seems to me, a tenfold greater hypocrite than Judas of old who betrayed with a kiss. "But enough of this. Our school days, lasting some five years, were to me one ceaseless round of delightful experiences, which seemed to fill every vein and fiber of my being with unalloyed happiness. During our vacations Cassie and I were always together, either at home or traveling, and many were the excursions, romps and drives we enjoyed. "I graduated at twenty-three and we laid our plans for the future. I had inherited an interest in a line of steamers running between Liverpool and New York, which enabled us to frequently cross the Atlantic during our vacations, and visit the leading points of interest in Great Britain and on the continent. I had acquired a taste for travel, and it was determined that I should visit the Orient, while Cassie returned to college to complete her study of the higher branches. I was to be gone about three years, during which time I would circumnavigate the globe, and on my return we were to be married. "With these objects in view I secured, through the influence of my uncle, a lucrative position in the employ of a firm of importers, whose trade extended to all parts of the eastern continent and Australia. On the evening before my departure, I placed a brilliant diamond engagement ring on Cassie's finger and a gold chain and locket of peculiar workmanship around her neck. "These presents were made from special designs for this purpose and the patterns destroyed. I shall never forget the last night we spent together. The appearance of my affianced bride in her splendid evening dress, her diamond engagement ring sparkling on her lovely hand, the gold chain and diamond set locket and her luxuriant suit of golden hair handsomely ornamented, formed a picture of beauty indelibly imprinted upon my memory. "My ship sailed from one of the piers on the Hudson near the Battery. We contemplated the circumnavigation of the globe by way of Cape Horn, the Sandwich Islands, Japan, China, Australia, Africa, Europe, and thence returning to America, stopping at all the principal seaport cities and points of interest on our voyage. This would enable Cassie and me to keep up our correspondence with no very long interruptions. "For the first year of my absence, at every port I received a package of letters from home, and this always contained letters from Cassie. We had agreed to write to each other at least once a week without waiting for replies, and it often occurred that I got a whole package of letters from her at one time, and the perusal of these affectionate missives was the one all-absorbing pleasure to which I looked forward when we came into port. Whatever else might be lacking, Cassie's loving letters never failed. "At last, however, they ceased all at once. Letters from my uncle came regularly, and through them I heard of Cassie, but I could get no word from her. I wrote to her every week, but my letters brought no response. I was miserable, and urged my uncle to find out what was the matter and let me know if my letters came safely. "My uncle's replies were at first evasive, but at last with an expression of the most cordial sympathy for me, he informed me that my letters came regularly, but that Cassie had changed her mind and they remained unopened. He enclosed a draft on London for the balance due on my estate, together with a complete statement of the account from the date of his taking charge, and the findings of the court as to all the property and investments that came to me from my father. Everything was complete and duly certified, so there was nothing that demanded my presence in New York. He advised me not to return home, but continue in my present position, as Cassie was to be married in a short time and my presence would be painful to her as well as to myself, and embarrassing to everyone concerned. "I was thunderstruck. I did not, could not, would not believe that Cassie was false to our mutual and oft repeated pledges of love and fidelity to each other. I could get no satisfaction from my uncle. My aunt had been dead several years. I wrote to my lawyer to learn if possible, the truth of the reported engagement and approaching marriage. His reply was prompt, stating that it was not only true, but that the marriage had already taken place. He wrote that he had been called in by my uncle, who was in feeble health, to make out the papers in regard to the estate of Cassie VanNess, which she was anxious to have settled satisfactorily to herself before her marriage. 'These financial matters being arranged,' wrote my lawyer, 'what was my surprise to be called upon to witness her marriage to Richard Sage. Financially she did well, but it is hard for me to believe that it was a love match. Your uncle, however, is certainly much infatuated with her, and she is indeed beautiful.' "This same letter contained a flattering offer from a firm of New York importers, for my interest in the steamship line, and I advised my attorney to close the deal at once and forward the proceeds to London and also to dispose of all my property in and about New York, lists of which were in his possession. I had made up my mind never to return home, as it would be distressing to me and certainly embarrassing to my uncle. After that my only New York correspondence was with my attorney. "When I reached London, I found a letter from my attorney with drafts on the bank of England for all my interests in America. This letter also contained the information that my uncle was in great trouble, his marriage with Cassie having resulted in much unhappiness. She had suddenly deserted him without giving any reason for her strange conduct. She merely left a note, stating that she would not live with him. This was the last that had been heard from her. 'Of course,' added my attorney, 'it would be next to impossible to find her in this large city if she desires to keep herself concealed.' "Since that time I have been a wanderer, caring little whither I went, so that my mind was fully occupied. I purchased a staunch ship in which I cruised for years, avoiding as far as practicable the regular lines of trade and often sailing without a cargo, searching for a contentment never to be found. At last I conceived the idea of getting away from civilization altogether, joining in the work of Arctic exploration, and, if possible reaching the pole. With this end in view, I had the Ice King built according to special designs, and adapted, so far as human foresight and ingenuity could devise, for a long sojourn in the frozen north. And now here we are, in the Arctic Ocean, liable at any moment to be caught between the ice fields which appear on either side, and possibly crushed. What is to come next? God only knows. "Such is a brief statement of the perfidy of the woman I loved, and its consequences. And this is why I am out here on this perilous expedition, searching for something that I care very little about. I think you will agree with me that it admits of no remedy." "It does not look that way to me," I responded. "I would be unwilling to condemn your affianced bride until I had heard her side of the story. It may be that her marriage to your uncle was secured by unfair means, and that when she discovered the fraud, in her desperation she started out to find you. In that case, the remedy would be for you to find her and renew your plighted faith." "Never!" said Captain Ganoe. "Even if your supposed case is correct, it could not set aside the facts. She knew that, in marrying my uncle, she was false to me, and when she deserted him with no legal cause for separation, she was false to her husband to whom she was bound in the holy bonds of matrimony. She acted from her own choice. She was not compelled to engage herself to me, and no law could have forced her to marry my uncle. Her conduct in both cases reveals her innate perfidy of character, and under no circumstances could I, as an honorable man, accept such a woman as my wife. Her tarnished reputation, if nothing else, would place an insurmountable barrier between us even if she were not legally the wife of another man." I was paralyzed. I had indeed succeeded in getting from him an emphatic expression of sentiment covering my own case. I had penetrated the innermost recesses of his being, but had fanned to a flame the slumbering fires of a volcano, only to be submerged in the eruption of molten lava. The blow was so unexpected and so sudden, that I was stupefied, and my astonishment left no room for grief, which gave me a moment for reflection. Here I was, in the ship with him, far within the Arctic Circle, at the beginning of the Arctic winter, and with the certainty of being locked up in the ice for months if not for years. I could not get away from him if I would, and from his own lips I had heard my conduct denounced as the acme of perfidy, and my love spurned as something treacherous and vile. Bitterly and in the most emphatic manner, had he declared that as an honorable man, he could never associate himself in the tender relations of marital love, with one of my tarnished reputation. In his own estimate, he had already assigned me a place among the most debased and abandoned characters, and all there was left for me to do was to preserve my disguise, in order to secure even respectful treatment from the man I loved. As the full sense of the situation dawned upon me in all its crushing weight of humiliation and anguish, I must have fallen at his feet in a dead faint, but for the clangor of the great bell which had been agreed upon as the signal of immediate peril, to summon each one to the post that had been assigned him in case of sudden emergencies. The alarm came to me as a sweet relief from an agony tenfold more difficult to endure than any possible hardships or dangers from an Arctic storm, amid towering mountains of ice. There was no time for grief. The emergency demanding prompt action was upon us, and we hurried out upon deck. According to previous arrangements, Captain Ganoe seized the wheel and Captain Battell, as an experienced Arctic navigator, took command, while I, with glass and note book, stood by the wheel to make observations and to render any assistance to Captain Ganoe that might be required. The cause of alarm at once became apparent. The stiff breeze that had been blowing all day from the southwest, had now increased to a gale, and the icebergs which for days were becoming more numerous on our starboard quarter, had formed a solid pack, which was evidently land-locked, as it remained stationary, while on the larboard, a solid field of ice of vast extent was approaching. It was only a question of a few hours at the utmost, when these two great ice walls must come together and it would be destruction for us to be caught in their deadly embrace. |
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