Wild Adventures round the Pole Part 43

Our heroes had been out after a walrus which they had succeeded in killing. A bear or two had been seen an hour or two before that, evidently on the prowl, and probably very hungry. Now, nothing will fetch these kings of the northern ice more surely than the scent of blood.

"Young gentlemen," said Seth, "there's a b'ar about somewheres, and I reckon he ain't far off either. Now, we'll just whip this old walrus out o' his skin, and Seth will creep in, and you'll see what you'll see."

He was very busy with his knife as he spoke, and in a few minutes the crang was got out and thrown into the water, the head being left on.

Into the skin crept the trapper, lying down at full length with his rifle close by his side, and by his directions away pulled the boat.

It was not two hundred yards off, when up out of the sea scrambled a huge bear.

"Hullo," says Bruin, shaking himself like a dozen great Newfoundland dogs rolled into one--"hullo! they've killed the wallie and left him.

Now won't I have a blow-out just?" and he licked his great chops in antic.i.p.ation.

"Dear me?" continued Bruin, as the walrus turned right round and confronted him; "why, they haven't quite killed you! Never mind, wallie, I'll put you out of pain, and I'll do it ever so gently. Then I'll just have one leetle bite out of your loin, you know."

"I guess you won't this journey," said Seth, bringing his rifle into position as the bear prepared to spring. "I reckon it'll be the other way on, and b'ar's steak ain't to be sneezed at when it's nicely cooked."

Bang!

It was very soon over with that poor bear; he never even changed the position into which he had thrown himself, but lay there dead, with his great head on his paws like a gigantic dog asleep.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

A COUNCIL--PREPARING FOR WINTER QUARTERS--THE ISLE OF ALBA AND ITS MAMMOTH CAVES--MAGNUS'S TALE--AT HIS BOY'S GRAVE.

The word "canny" is often applied to Scotchmen in a somewhat disparaging sense by those who do not know the meaning of the word, nor the true character of the people on whom they choose to fix the epithet. The word is derived from "can," signifying knowledge, ability, skill, etc, and probably a corruption of the Gaelic "caen" (head). The Scotch are pre-eminently a thinking nation, and, as a rule, they are individually skilful in their undertakings; they like to look before they leap, they like to know what they have to do before they begin, but having begun, they work or fight with all their life and power. It was "canniness"

that won for Robert Bruce the Battle of Bannockburn, it was the canniness of Prince Charles Stuart that enabled him to defeat Sir John Cope at the Battle of Dunbar. There is no nation in the world possesses more "can" than the Scotch, although they are pretty well matched by the Germans. Prince Bismarck is the canniest man of the century.

"A Berlin! A Berlin!" was the somewhat childish cry of the volatile Gaul, when war broke out betwixt his st.u.r.dy neighbour and him.

Yes, fair France, go to Berlin if you choose, only first and foremost you have to overthrow--what? Oh! only one man. A very old one, too.

Yonder he is, in that tent in the corner of a field, seated at a table, quietly solving, one would almost think, a chess problem. And so it is, but he is playing the game with living men, and every move he makes is carefully studied. That old man in the tent, to which the wires converge from the field of battle, is General von Moltke, the best soldier that the world has ever known since the days of Bonaparte and Wellington, and the _canniest_.

But the word "canny" never implies over-frugality or meanness, and I believe my readers will go a long way through the world, without meeting a Scotchman who would not gladly share the last sixpence he had in the world to benefit a friend.

Our Captain McBain was canny in the true sense of the word, and it was this canniness of his that induced him to call his officers, and every one who could think and give an opinion, into the saloon two days after the events described in the last chapter.

After making a short speech, in which he stated his own ideas freely, he called upon them to express theirs.

"If," he concluded, "you think we have gone far enough north with the s.h.i.+p, here, or near here, we will anchor; if you think we ought to push on, I will take that barrier of ice to the north-east, and push and bore and forge and blast my way for many miles farther, and it may be we will strike the open water around the Pole, if such open water exists."

"We are now," said Stevenson, after consulting for a short time with the second mate, with Magnus, and De Vere the aeronaut--"we are now nearly 88 degrees north and 76 degrees west from the meridian; the season has been a wonderful one, but will we have an open summer to find our way back again if we push on farther?"

"No," cried old Magnus, with some vehemence; "no, such seasons as these come but once in ten years."

"I see how the land lies," said McBain, smiling, "and I am glad that we are all of the same way of thinking. Well, gentlemen, this decides me; we shall winter where we are."

"Hurrah!" cried Stevenson; "we wouldn't have gone contrary to your wishes for the world, captain, but I'm sure we will be all delighted to go into winter quarters."

After this the _Arrandoon_ was kept away more to the west, where the water was clearer of bergs, and where mountainous land was seen to lie.

They steamed along this land or sh.o.r.e for many miles, although lighted only by the bright silvery stars and the gleaming Aurora. They came at length to a small landlocked bay or gulf, entirely filled with flat ice.

The s.h.i.+p was stopped, and all hands ordered away to a clear a pa.s.sage by means of ice-saws and torpedoes. After many hours of hard work this was successfully accomplished, and the vessel was warped in till she lay close under the lee of the braeland, that rose steeply up from the surface of the sea. Those braes were to the north and west of them, and would help to shelter the s.h.i.+p from at least one of the coldest winds.

"Well, boys," said McBain that day as they sat down to dinner, and he spoke more cheerfully than he had done since the departure of the _Scotia_,--"well, boys, here we are safe and snug in winter quarters.

How do you like the prospect of living here for three months without ever catching a blink of the sun?"

"I for one don't mind it a bit," said Allan. "It'll do us all good; but won't we be glad to see the jolly visage of old Sol again, when he peeps over the hills to see whether we are dead or alive!"

"I'm sure," said Rory, "that I will enjoy the fun immensely."

"What fun?" asked Ralph.

"Why, the new sensation," replied Rory; "a winter at the Pole."

"You're not quite there yet," said Ralph; "but as for me, I think I'll enjoy it too, though of course winter in London would be more lively.

Why, what is that green-looking stuff in those gla.s.ses, doctor?"

"That's your dram," said Sandy.

"Why it's lime-juice," cried Rory, tasting his gla.s.s and making a face.

"So it is," said Ralph. "Where are the sugar-plums, doctor?"

"Yes," cried Rory; "where are the plums? Oh!" he continued, "I have it--a drop of Silas Grig's green ginger, steward, quick."

And every day throughout the winter, when our heroes swallowed their dose of lime-juice, they were allowed a tiny drop of green ginger to put away the taste, and as they sipped it, they never failed to think and talk of honest Silas.

And lime-juice was served out by the surgeon to all hands. They knew well it was to keep scurvy at bay, so they quietly took their dose and said nothing.

The sea remained open for about a week longer, and scores of bears were bagged. [These animals are said to bury themselves in the snow during winter, and sleep soundly for two or three months. This, however, is doubtful.] This seemed, indeed, to be the autumn home of the King of the Ice. Then the winter began to close in in earnest, and all saving the noonday twilight deserted them. The sky, however, remained clear and starry, and many wonderful meteors were seen almost nightly shooting across the firmament, and for a time lighting up the strange and desolate scene with a brightness like the noon of day. The Aurora was clearer and more dazzling after the frost came, so that as far as light was concerned the sun was not so much missed.

On going on deck one morning our heroes were astonished to find a light gleaming down upon them from the maintop, of such dazzling whiteness that they were fain, for the moment, to press their hands against their eyes.

It was an electric candle, means for erecting which McBain had provided himself with before leaving the Clyde. So successful was he with his experiment that the sea of ice on the one hand, and the braeland on the other, seemed enshrouded in gloom. Rory gazed in ecstasy, then he must needs walk up to McBain and shake him enthusiastically by the hand, laughing as he remarked,--

"'Deed, indeed, captain, you're a wonderful man. Whatever made you think of this? What a glorious surprise. Have you any more in store for us? Really! sir, I don't know what your boys would do without you at all at all."

Thus spoke impulsive young Rory, as McBain laughingly returned his hand-shake, while high overhead the new light eclipsed the radiance of the brightest stars. But what is that strange, mournful cry that is heard among the hills far up above them? It comes nearer and still more near, and then out from the gloom swoops a gigantic bird. Attracted by the light, it has come from afar, and now keeps wheeling round and round it. Previously there had not been a bird visible for many days, but now, curious to relate, they come in hundreds, and even alight close by the s.h.i.+p to feed on the refuse that has been thrown overboard.

"It is strange, isn't it, sir?" said Rory.

"It is, indeed," replied McBain, adding, after a pause, "Rory, boy, I've got an idea."

"Well," said Rory, "I know before you mention it that it is a good one."

"Ah! but," said McBain, "I'm not going to mention it yet awhile."