NORTHWARD AGAIN.—THE STEAMER.—TAKING TO THE BOAT.

Top

"Yes, Regnar, we are now on the outer side of the pack, and the wind has shifted to the southward again. Look to the eastward, Regnie. Has not the pack broken up there?"

"Yes, the tide sets to the eastward, and the wind blows the heavy ice northward as soon as it clears the eastern shoals. See that berg going to pieces on Doyle's Reef!"

As he spoke, the berg, a small one, worn by sun and rain into a multitude of fantastic pinnacles, swung off from its easterly drift, and, wafted by the wind, rapidly floated towards the concealed reef, whose sharp and hidden rocks can only be suspected during the prevalence of the heaviest storms. With a moderate rate of speed, not much exceeding two knots an hour, the massive base of the ice-island suddenly rose, as the shelving rocks received the irresistible impact. Then a few glittering pieces dimpled the surface of the unruffled water. It was the signal of impending dissolution. Crash upon crash, like the roar of artillery, echoed and re-echoed among the floes, and rent from base to pinnacle, the majestic frost-castle fell into utter ruin, torturing the sea into foam, while the billows raised by the rocking of the huge fragments swept up the narrow walls, sweeping right across many of the lower floes, and even raising a slight ripple around the base of the great berg itself.

"We must return, Regnie. The clouds are darkening fast, and fog or a thick scud is sweeping up from the southward. Let us have one more look for the steamers, and then we must away to our friends."

"There is a steamer on the outer edge of the pack, I think. You will see her smoke in line with the East Point yonder."

"Yes, Regnie, that is a steamer, sure enough, and she will make her way to the centre of the pack. Let us hasten to the floe and take to the boats. We can perhaps reach her by rowing through the narrow leads before the gale rises."

Hastening down the side of the watercourse they descended the berg, and set off along its base, in the direction of the hut. As they passed they gave a last glance at the sealer's tomb. Down the path they had ascended, dashed an overflowing torrent, which disappeared with a whirl and hollow gurgle into the yawning aperture, while the whole front of the wall which they had ascended, dripped with water and glittered with spray.

"The keenest eye among the hunters of the Mistassini could not uncover that trail; and known to God and us alone is the bloody mystery of the Deadman's Berg."

"Don't talk of that again, Regnie. Let the dead rest. Perhaps it may yet transpire that he was penitent at the last, and you may have good reason to rejoice that you knelt beside his last bed, in a tomb so wondrously beautiful."

"We must hasten faster, Charley, for the fog is coming, and we may find the floes separated. Remember our friends know nothing of all we have seen and heard, and to them I am still Regnar Orloff, half educated, and a simple pilot of the Labrador."

With increased speed the pair pressed forward, crossing with difficulty the gulf, which had opened between the berg and the first heavy floe. Pole in hand, with one end of the rope attached to his belt, and his gun slung at his back, Orloff led the way, while La Salle followed at the other end, carrying an axe in his belt, and another in his hand. Luckily many large fragments lay floating in the first lead, and prevented from slipping by their sharp "crampets," they leaped from cake to cake, and safely reached the second floe.

The mist clung damp to their faces as they attained the end of the second floe, where a lead of water some twenty yards in width, and clear of ice, intervened between them and the next. The quick eye of Regnar caught sight of a small ice-cake floating by the windward side of their floe, and leaping upon it, with pole and hands they shoved it along the steep walls of ice, and with their united force gave it a final impetus in the desired direction. The fragment whirled and bent beneath them, until the water stood above their ankles; but just as they began to fear a complete submersion, Orloff caught a projection of the field with his boat-hook, and the two landed in safety.

As they hurried across the last floe, the rain fell, and the wind blew heavily, dashing huge cakes against the windward side with a ceaseless crashing of broken ice. Before they could reach the end of the field, they saw their own turn as if on a pivot, and grind slowly past the leeward point of the one across which they pressed at full speed. Their efforts were in vain, for before they could reach the verge their refuge was twenty feet distant; but Regnar was equal to the emergency.

"Cast loose your rope, Charley," said he; and in five seconds he had coiled and whirled it twenty feet across the intervening chasm, to Peter, who seized and retained it. "Now, La Salle, follow me," he cried; and springing upon a floating fragment, he balanced himself with his pole until he reached a more stable support farther from the berg.

The impetus, however, carried him too far away, and La Salle had to choose between committing himself to a fragment without rope or pole, to be tossed about by the rising sea, or to wait until Regnar should reach the floe, and return for him in the boat. He chose the latter, but soon had the pleasure of seeing Regnar safely landed on the floe, from whence, in almost less time than it takes to tell it, the three launched their boat and paddled up to the place where La Salle awaited their arrival, intently watching the performance of their improvised life-boat.

He noted with pleasure that she drew little water, and that the light paddles drove her through the short, toppling sea with considerable speed, while her weather-boards prevented the shipping of any water. Leaping aboard, they soon crossed the narrow lead, and running under the lee of the ice-hills, drew their boat to the hut.

"If you have anything you want to be sure to keep, stow it in the boat," was La Salle's first order, as he saw the sea begin to dash across the windward end of the floe, while, whining with fear, the young seals were shoved and pushed, by the flippers of their dams, farther and farther up on the higher ice, until, tamed by fear, they surrounded the little hollow containing the hut.

Food, weapons, clothes, and ammunition were all deposited in the boat, as well as her mast, sail, and paddles, while her painter, attached to her sharp-pronged grapnel, lay coiled on her half-deck forward. All that afternoon the wind and sea arose, until, amid the drenching rain, they could hear around them the clamor of the terrified seals, the continual crash of breaking ice, and the sough of the heavy sea, whose spray drove over them in constantly increasing showers.

At last an occasional wave came into the lower part of the little hollow, and all thought that the end was near.

"We must take to the boat," said Regnar.

But La Salle pointed to the ghostly crests of the surrounding seas; and bowing his head upon his breast, Orloff signified to his friend that he acknowledged the hopelessness of that resource. Just then a darker blackness seemed to gather to windward, as a shriller blast whistled by them; and as all awaited the increased fury of the elements which were to end the unequal struggle, the wind seemed to abate, and the waves sullenly retired from the surface of the floe. The rain still swept fiercely upon the drenched wanderers, and on their lee they could still note the crash of ice-islands, amid the sweep of the angry waves.

But above them, huge, unbending, and majestic, towered a lofty pile, shrouded in darkness, through which at times gleamed the weird white outline of some snow-encrusted ledge.

"Are we under the lee of Amherst Island?" asked Regnar, in a voice which all could hear.

La Salle's answer came below his breath, and only Regnar heard, or could comprehend its meaning:—

"The dead are the defence of the living, and we are under the lee of Deadman's Berg."

Safe from the rage of the elements, but cold, wet, and hungry, the adventurers sought the shelter of their hut, which still stood unhurt; but the fir branches of the floor were soaked with water, for a wave or two had risen above the ledge of the door. After much difficulty, with the aid of a candle, the Esquimaux lamp was lighted, and after much sputtering, the six wicks diffused their cheering light and grateful warmth through the hut. Then Peter, with his axe, cut a gutter through the doorway, letting off the standing water, and in the course of an hour the boughs were comparatively dry.

Taking from the boats the dry skins and coverlets, the party lay down to rest, leaving Peter to keep watch lest they should again drift from their haven, and be exposed to the pitiless seas. All took their spell of duty; but the cheerless night passed without further incident, and the day found them still under the shadow of the great berg. As the day advanced, the storm swept the pack northward, and the party, ascending the berg, saw, one by one, the isolated crags of the island chain of the Magdalens loom at times through the driving scud, as they drove northward. Six or eight miles away they saw the masts of a vessel deep in the heart of the floe.

"When the storm is over and the pack opens, we must take our boat and reach that sealer," said La Salle; and taking the range of her position, the four sought their hut, and building a huge fire of all their remaining wood, prepared all the cooked meat which they could carry, filled the seal-membranes with oil, and awaited the lull of the storm and the opening of the pack.

At sunset the storm had broken, the clouds began to disappear, and through their rifts the stars glimmered, and the new moon shone palely beautiful.

"We shall not pass the North Cape much before morning," said La Salle, "and until then the pack will not open. When it does we are ready; so sleep, and I will watch."

His tired comrades flung themselves down, and were almost instantly asleep. As the dawn approached the wind lessened, and as the day broke, he called Regnar, and again ascended the berg.

On the right hand towered the rock-bound coast of the northern islands and the isolated crags of Bryon. And as they looked northward they saw the pack opening again: as it issued from under the lee, a black cloud of smoke rose from the sealer's funnel, but instead of steering east or west, she was evidently heading for the great berg.

"Shall we await them here, or take our boat and try to reach them, Regnar?" asked La Salle.

"Wait a little longer, and then, when the ice opens, push a little more to the eastward, and work down to meet the vessel," said the lad, who proceeded to examine the dagger so strangely returned to his keeping. The blade unscrewed at the cross-piece of the hilt, which was hollow, and contained many papers closely compressed into a single roll. Regnar ran his eye over the contents, and selecting one, returned the rest to their odd receptacle. "This paper, Charley, contains an inventory of the property confided to Perry, to be equally divided between my half-sister and myself." And he proceeded to translate the items of the inventory. "It is hardly worth while to give this paper in full; suffice it to say that besides various pictures, books, arrows, weapons, sets of plate, jewels, and other heirlooms, 'stored in care of Nicholas Orloff, my mother's brother,' there appeared a schedule of moneys and bonds amounting to nearly one hundred thousand dollars. 'These funds have been committed,' the paper went on to say, 'to my faithful friend Albert Perry, whom I commend to your good offices and implicit trust.'"

As he ceased reading, the boy's face was turned to the ice-cliff, where the plashing water flowed in a huge sheet, like a falling veil, over the face of the berg, shutting out from sight the twining pillars and narrow entrance of the sealer's tomb.

"I have rendered him the last 'good office,'" said he. "It only remains to seek yonder vessel, and find out who spoiled the spoiler, and, if possible, recover the valuables and papers taken from Perry's body."

"There is the steamer heading this way," said La Salle, "and the leads are fast opening. Let us descend to the floe, and by the time we have breakfasted, we shall find ample room between the fields to let us pass in safety."

Descending, they found their comrades already at breakfast, and by the time the meal was disposed of, their floe lay surrounded by one of the leads of open water, which showed scarce a vestige of the heavy seas of the late gale. For the last time they packed their few valuables into the boat, and stowing Carlo away under deck, took their allotted places, dipped their paddles into the open water, and with rapid strokes threaded the narrow channels, scaring the timid seals from their path, and noting on every hand scenes of life and beauty, for amid the opening pack the varied life of the Bird islands around them met their view. Screaming gannets wheeled in clouds over their heads, and portly murres started up heavily from the frequent pools, into which they broke with flashing paddles, and laughter, such as they had never before indulged in since their first misadventure.

Guided by the pillar of black smoke, which, winding this way and that, ever drew nearer and nearer, they came at last to an open pool, nearly a quarter of a mile or more in length. On the opposite side, above a small floe, they saw the prow of the advancing vessel. Evidently she had met with a check, for as they gazed they heard the tinkle of the engine bell, and saw her iron-sheathed bow recede behind the fantastic outlines of the pinnacle.

"Will she leave us?" asked Waring, with trembling lips.

"They only back to run down that floe. See now."

The next moment Regnar's prediction was verified. A blacker cloud of smoke, shot with sparks, poured from the funnel; the huge hull rapidly advanced, her raking prow, with its iron armor, piercing the waves like the blade of the sword-fish. There was a crash, a momentary glimpse of falling ice and splitting walls, and the next moment the noble steamer came at half speed across the open water, just as the little boat shot out of the sheltering lead.

In his hands La Salle waved the banner attached to the boat-hook, which had marked the deserted heaps of seal-skins. But it needed not: the pilot rang his bell, and the sealer became motionless in the centre of the pool. As they came alongside, a stout, full-bearded man, in a Guernsey frock, threw them a rope, and hailed the strange little craft:—

"What, do'ee want, friends, and where do'ee hail from?"

"We are sportsmen, carried off, by the ice, in the straits, eleven days ago. We want food, and a passage home, for which we will pay."

"Well, if ivir I heerd of de like of dat! Come aboord, my men. De captain's sick, but dere's plinty to ate here, and ye won't mind close quarters, after your vige on de ice."

"No, indeed, sir!" said La Salle. "Tumble up, my men. Take your guns and your coats with you. Here, Nep; up that ladder, sir. That's right. Can you take our boat aboard?"

"Come right up, sur; dere's no fear of her. I'll have her aboord in tin minutes. Here comes de mate. What's your name, sur? La Salle? Yis, sur! Mister Blake, sur; Mister La Salle, sur."

"Happy to see you, Mr. La Salle. I've learnt enough about you to know that you have been adrift nearly two weeks, and as dinner's ready we must have you into the cabin. I am sorry that but one berth is vacant, and your friends will have to take their chance in the forecastle."

"If you please, I had rather have you extend your courtesy to Mr. George Waring, a son of Mr. Albert Waring, of C., who does a large business with your St. John's fishing firms. He has been the only one of us who has been sick, and—"

"There, Mr. Blake," interposed Waring, "don't listen to him; take him with you. Why, I am as strong as an ox now, and you'll find him far better company than I am."

Passing aft through gangways crowded with brawny, hardy-looking sealers, La Salle followed his conductor to the cabin, where he found six or eight men gathered around a table plentifully supplied with the usual provisions found on board ships in the merchant service. After being introduced to all present, who greeted him with a rude civility, Mr. Blake invited him to "fall to and help himself."

It is needless to say that he required no pressing in this direction. "Hard tack" and "salt horse," with potatoes, soft bread, and chicory coffee sweetened with molasses, seemed food fit for the gods, after the greasy meat-diet of the last eleven days; and his companions considerately refrained from questioning him until his hunger was satisfied. At last he drew back his chair, lit a cigar offered him by one of the officers, and turning to the mate said, laughingly,—

"Fire away, gentlemen—I'm ready."

After narrating the principal events of their voyage so far as he deemed prudent, he concluded as follows:—

"Two or three days ago we fell in with large sealing-floes, and among them one where a sealer had killed several hundred seals. A boat-hook, which you will find in our boat, bore this signal. Am I right in supposing that this is the name of your vessel?" and so saying he drew from his pocket the tiny pennon.

"It is ours, and we have been trying for a week to recover our skins, as well as the body of Captain Randall, whom we lost eight days ago."

Not a muscle of La Salle's face betrayed any emotion save that of interest, as he asked,—

"Lost your captain! And how, pray?"

At that moment a noise was heard in the inner cabin, as if several men were struggling; all at once the door flew open, and, with difficulty restrained by the utmost efforts of two powerful men, a pale, unshorn face, surmounting a wild and scantily-dressed figure, appeared to the party, none of whom started save La Salle, who almost fancied that the dead man, sealed up in the caverns of the ice, had come back again to his quarters on board the Mercedes. Crying out, "I couldn't save him! I couldn't save him!" the intruder was dragged, struggling and raving, back to his berth.

"Poor George! he takes the death of his brother sadly to heart. He was mate, and the other day they left the floe together, to ascend a large berg at some distance from our whaling-ground. We saw them on the top, after which they disappeared, going to the opposite side by which they had ascended. Shortly after we heard several rifle shots fired in quick succession, and then George came running towards us, shouting that his brother had fallen between the floes, and was drowning.

"We ran to the spot, and found a place between two floes where the ice was much broken up, as if some one had tried to catch something with a boat-hook; and Randall told us that his brother had fallen through and been carried under the ice before he could get to him. We broke the ice all around, but to no purpose; and then our lookouts discovered that we were in danger of getting nipped on the other side of the Magdalens. So we returned to the ship with George, sadly enough."

"Why were the rifle-shots fired? to call for assistance?" asked La Salle.

"Yes. None of our men have the rifle, although many are supplied with the old sealing-gun. We therefore agreed among the officers that three shots, fired in rapid succession, should call assistance in case of danger, or trouble with the men. Our rifles are all breech-loading carbines, and we can fire with great rapidity."

"Do you find them of service among the seals?"

"Yes, especially with the 'old hoods;' and poor Captain Randall, who spent some years in Europe, had his ammunition fitted so that the bullets explode on striking a bone. They tear a terrible hole in a seal, I assure you."

"Indeed! I never saw one of them, although it seems to me that I have read of the invention. Have you any of the bullets here? for I suppose the rifle was lost at the same time."

The sailing-master, or rather pilot, a short, thick-set Newfoundlander, took up the conversation.

"Dere's de rifle now, hangin' over your head. De captain was ailin', an' his brother, who fancied de little piece, carried it. Dere's one of de cartridges in it yet."

So saying, he took down a short carbine of the Spencer pattern, and unlocking the slide, took out a cartridge and handed it to La Salle. It displayed at the end of the ball the copper capsule of a rifle-shell.

"Let us go on deck," said Blake, rising; but as they passed again through the narrow passage, they heard the struggles of the delirious captain, and his oft-repeated cry, "I couldn't save him! I couldn't save him!"