CHAPTER XXXVIII
_In Which the Wind Blows a Tempest, Our Heroes are Lost on the Floe, Jonathan Farr is Encased in Snow and Frozen Spindrift, Toby Strangely Disappears, and an Heroic Fight for Life is Begun, Wrapped in Bitter Dark_
It is well known on this coast, from Cape Race to Norman and theLabrador harbours, what happened to Cap'n Saul that night. It was vast,flat, heavy ice, thick labour for the ship, at best--square miles ofpans and fields. In the push of the northwest gale, blowing down, all atonce, with vigour and fury, from a new quarter, the big pans shifted andrevolved. The movement was like that of a waltz--slow dancers, revolvingin a waltz. And then the floe closed. And what was a clear course in themorning was packed ice before dusk.
When the day began to foul, Cap'n Saul snatched up the First Watch,where he was standing by, and came driving down after Bill o' BurntBay's watch. It was too late. The ice caught him. And there was noshaking free. The men on the floe glimpsed the ship--the bulk of theship and a cloud of smoke; but Cap'n Saul caught no glimpse of them--ahuddle of poor men wrapped in snow and dusk.
A blast of the gale canted the _Rough and Tumble_ until her bare yardstouched the floe and Cap'n Saul had a hard time to save her alive fromthe gale. And that was the measure of the wind. It blew a tempest.Rescue? No rescue. The men knew that. A rescue would walk blind--strayand blow away like leaves. They must wait for clear weather and dawn.
There had been Newfoundlanders in the same hard case before. The menknew what to do.
"Keep movin'!"
"No sleep!"
"Stick t'gether!"
"Nobody lie down!"
"Fetch me a buffet, some o' you men, an I gets sleepy."
"I gives any man leave t' beat me."
"Where's Tom Land?"
"Here I is!"
"I say, Tom--Long George gives any man leave t' beat un black an' blue!"
And a laugh at that.
"Mind the blow-holes!"
"An a man gets wet, he'll freeze solid."
"No sleep!"
"Keep movin'!"
They kept moving to keep warm. And even they larked. Tag, whilst theycould see to chase--and a sad leap-frog. And they wrestled and scuffleduntil it was black dark and the heart went out of them all. And thenthey wandered, with no lee to shelter them--a hundred and seventy-threemen, stamping and stumbling in the wind, clinging to life, hour afterhour, and waiting for the dawn, bitten by frost and near stifled bysnow. It was gnawing cold. Twelve below--it was afterwards said. Andthat's bitter weather. It bit through to the bones and heart. And whatthey wore to withstand it--no great-coats, to hamper the kill, but onlyjackets and caps and mitts.
The floe was flat and bare to the gale. Nobody knows the pitch of thewind. It was a full tempest. That much is known. And it stung and cutand strove to wrest them from their feet and whisk them away. And therethey were--in the grip of the wind, stripped to the strength they had,like lost beasts, and helpless to fend any more. Billy Topsail sawyoung Simeon Tutt, of Whoopin' Harbour, trip and stagger and fall at hisfeet; and before Billy could lay hands on him to save him, the wind blewhim away, like a leaf, and he was never seen again, but driven into alake of water in the dark, it was thought, and there perished.
LIKE LOST BEASTS]
By and by Archie and Billy stumbled on old Jonathan Farr of JollyHarbour. It was long past midnight then. And they saw no lad with him.Where was Toby?
"That you, Jonathan?" said Archie.
"'Tis I, Archie."
"You living yet?"
"No choice. I got t' live."
"Where's Toby?" said Billy.
"The lad's----"
It was hard to hear. The old man's words jumped away with the wind. Andstill the boys saw no lad.
"What say?" said Billy. "I don't see Toby. Where is he?"
"In my lee," Jonathan replied. "He's restin'."
There stood old Jonathan Farr, in the writhing gloom of that night,stiff and still and patient as the dead, with his back to the gale,plastered with snow and frozen spindrift, his shoulders humped and hishead drawn in like a turtle. It was bitter dark--yet not as black as thegrave. It is never that on the floe. And the wind streamed past, keen asa blade with frost, thick with crisp snow, and clammy with the spray itcaught up from the open lakes and flung off in sheets and mist.
Dead bodies lying roundabout then--the boys had stumbled over the deadas they walked. Young men, sprawled stiff, hard as ice to the bones,lying stark in the drifts--Big Sam Tiller, of Thank-the-Lord, he thatwhipped Paddy of Linger Tickle, in White Bay, when the fleet was trappedby the floe in the Year of the Small Haul, was dead by that time; andArchie had found little Dickie Ring, of Far-Away Cove, dead in his elderbrother's dead arms--they were pried apart with a crowbar when the timecame.
Yet there stood old Jonathan Farr, cased in snow and ice, with the lifewarm in him--making a lee for little Toby. And Toby was snuggled up tohis grandfather, his face close--sheltered and rested from the gale, asmuch as might be.
Billy Topsail bent down.
"How does you?" says he.
Toby put his head out from its snug harbour, and spoke, in a passion, asthough Billy had wronged him, and then ducked back from the smother ofwind and snow.
"My gran'pa takes care o' _me_!" he flashed.
"Will you save him, Jonathan?" Archie asked.
"I've a shot in the locker, Archie," Jonathan replied. "I'll save unalive."
Out flashed Toby's head; and he tugged at his grandfather--and bawledup.
"Is I doin' well?" he wanted to know.
"You is!"
"Is I doin' as well as my father done at my age?"
"You is! Is you rested?"
"Ay, sir."
"Full steam ahead!" said Jonathan. With that they bore away--playing agame. And Jonathan was the skipper and Toby was the wheelman and engine."Port!" bawled Jonathan. And "Starboard your helm!" And Billy and Archielost sight of them in the dark.
Billy Topsail, M.D.: A Tale of Adventure With Doctor Luke of the Labrador Page 40