Among the Esquimaux; or, Adventures under the Arctic Circle
Page 9
CHAPTER VIII
HOPE DEFERRED
A hoarse, tremulous sound came across the ocean. There was nomistaking its character; it was from the whistle of a steamer, the onewhose light led them to hope for a time that their rescue was at hand.It sounded three times, and evidently the blasts were intended as asignal, though, of course, they bore no reference to the two personslistening so intently on the iceberg.
"That was the last thing I expected to hear in this latitude,"remarked Rob, turning to his companion.
"I don't know why," replied Jack; "they have such craft plying alongthe Greenland coast. What's more, I've heard that same whistle beforeand know the boat; it's the 'Fox'."
"Not the 'Fox' I have read about as having to do with the Franklinexpedition?" said the youth, in astonishment.
"The identical craft."
"You amaze me."
Those of my readers who are familiar with the history of Arcticexploration will recall this familiar name. It was the steam tug inwhich sailed the party that succeeded in finding traces of theill-fated Franklin expedition of near a half century ago. It afterwardcame into the possession of the company that owns the cryolite mine atIvigtut, and is now used to carry laborers and supplies fromCopenhagen to that place. While at Ivigtut, it is occasionallyemployed to tow the Greenland ships in and out of the fiord.
Ah, if its crew had only heard the shouts and signals of the couple onthe iceberg, how blessed it would have been! But its lights hadvanished long ago, and, if its whistle sounded again, it was so faraway that it could not reach the listening ears.
The restlessness of the friends, to which I have referred, now ledthem to attempt a search, if it may so be called, for the missingFred. This of necessity was vague and blind, and was accompanied withbut a grain of hope. Neither had yet referred to the awful dread thatwas in their thoughts, but weakly trusted they might find the poorfellow somewhere near asleep or senseless from a fall.
Morning was still several hours distant, but the clearing of the airenabled them to pick their way with safety, so long as they took heedto their footsteps.
"I will go down toward the spot where the boat gave us the slip," saidJack, "and I don't know what you can do, unless you go with me."
"There's no need of that; of course I can't make my way far, while thenight lasts, but I remember that we penetrated some way beyond thisplace before camping for the night; I'll try it."
"Keep a sharp lookout, my hearty, or there'll be another lad lost, andthen what will become of Jack Cosgrove?"
"Have no fear of me," replied Rob, setting out on the self-imposedexpedition.
He paused a few steps away and turned to watch the sailor, who wascarefully descending the incline, at the base of which they hadlanded.
"I hope he won't find Fred, or rather that he won't find any signs ofhis having gone that way," said Rob to himself with a shudder.
As the figure of the man slowly receded, it grew more indistinct untilit faded from sight in the gloom. Still the youth looked and listenedfor the words which he dreaded to hear above everything else in theworld.
Jack Cosgrove received a good scare while engaged on his periloustask. He was half-way down the incline, making his way with thecaution of a timid skater, when, like a flash, his feet flew fromunder him, and, falling upon his back, he slid rapidly toward thewaves at the base of the berg.
But the brave fellow did not lose his coolness or presence of mind.His left hand grasped his rifle, and, throwing out his right, heseized a projection of ice, checking himself within a few feet of thewater and near enough for the spray from the fierce waves to be flungover him.
"This isn't the time for a bath," he muttered, carefully climbing tohis feet and retreating a few paces; "it would have been a pretty hardswim out there with my heavy clothing, though I think I could manageit."
After all, what could he hope to accomplish by this hunt for FredWarburton? If he had wandered in that direction and fallen into thesea, he had left no traces that could be discovered in the gloom ofthe night. He could not have gone thither and stayed there that wascertain.
The sailor having withdrawn beyond the reach of the waves, sat down inas disconsolate a mood as can be imagined. A suspicion that Rob mightfollow caused him to turn his head and look over his shoulder.
"I don't see anything of him, and I guess he'll stay up there; I hopeso, for Jack Cosgrove isn't in the mood to see or talk with any one'cepting that lad which he won't never see nor talk to agin."
Convincing himself that he was safe against a visit from the elderyouth, the sailor bowed his head, and, for several minutes, wept likeone with an uncontrollable grief.
When his sorrow had partially subsided, he spent a brief while withhis head still bowed in communion with his Maker.
"I don't know but what the lad is luckier than me or Rob," he added,reviewing the situation in his mind; "for we've got to foller himsooner or later. It isn't likely that any ship will come as nigh tothis thing as the 'Fox' did awhile ago, and I can't see one chance inten thousand of our being took off. We haven't a mouthful of food,and there's no way of our getting any. After a time we will have tolay down and starve or freeze to death, or both. Poor Fred has beensaved all that--"
He checked his musings, for at that moment a peculiar sound broke uponhis ear. It resembled that caused by the exhaust of a steamer at lowpressure. One less experienced than he would have been deceived intothe belief that such was its source, but Jack did not hold any suchfalse hope for a minute even. He understood it too well.
It was made by a whale "blowing." One of those monster animals wasdisporting himself in the vicinity of the iceberg, and the sailor hadheard the same sound too often to mistake it.
Shifting his position so as to bring him nearer the sea, he stoopedand peered out in the gloom, in the direction whence came the noise.There was enough starlight for him to trace the outline of themountainous waves, as they arose against the sky, though they weredimly defined and might have misled another.
While gazing thus, a huge mass took vague form. It was the head of agigantic leviathan of the deep, which for a moment was projectedagainst the sky and then sank out of sight with the same noise thathad attracted Jack's notice in the first place.
The blowing was heard at intervals, for several minutes, until thedistance shut it from further notice.
"I wonder if Rob noticed it," the sailor asked himself; "for if hedid, he will make the mistake of believing the 'Fox' has come to takeus off, and we're done with this old berg."
But nothing was heard from the youth, and the sailor remained seatedon the shelf of ice, a prey to his gloomy reflections. He had made uphis mind to stay where he was until the coming of day, when thequestion of what was to be done would be speedily settled.
Meanwhile, he wanted no company but his own thoughts. He had kept upwith the elder youth, and carefully withheld his fears and beliefsfrom him. He felt that he could do so no longer. The farce had beenplayed out, and the truth must be spoken.
It was impossible to note the passage of time. Jack carried no watch,but each of the boys owned an excellent timepiece. He probably fellinto a doze, for, when he roused himself once more, he saw that thenight was nearly over.
"I wonder what Rob is doing," he said, rising to his feet, stretchinghis arms, and looking in the direction where he expected to see hisfriend; "I hope nothing hain't happened to him."
This affliction was spared the sailor, for while he was peeringthrough the increasing light, he caught sight of the figure of Robmaking his way toward him.
"Hello, Jack, have you found anything?"
"No; have you?"
"I think I have; come and see."