Under the Great Bear

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER IV.

  ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT.

  Anything less buoyant than a modern life raft, consisting of two steelcylinders stoutly braced and connected by a wooden platform, would havebeen drawn under by the deadly clutch of that swirling vortex. No openboat could have lived in it for a minute; and even the raft, spinninground and round with dizzy velocity, was sucked downward until it wasactually below the level of the surrounding water. But, sturdilyresisting the down-dragging force, its wonderful buoyancy finallytriumphed, and as its rotary motion became less rapid, Cabot sat up andgazed about him with the air of one who has been stunned.

  He was dazed by the awfulness of the catastrophe that had so suddenlyoverwhelmed the "Lavinia," and could form no idea of its nature. Hadthere been a collision? If so, it must have been with the iceberg, fornothing else had been in sight when he went below. Yet it wasincredible that such a thing could have happened in broad daylight.The afternoon had been clear and bright; of that he was certain, thoughhis surroundings were now shrouded by an impenetrable veil of fog.Through this he could see nothing, and from it came no sound save themoan of winds sweeping across a limitless void of waters.

  What had become of his recent companions? Had they gone down with theship, and was he sole survivor of the tragedy? At this thought the ladsprang to his feet, and shouted, calling his friends by name, andbegging them not to leave him; but the only answer came in shape ofmocking echoes hurled sharply back from close at hand. Looking in thatdirection, he dimly discerned a vast outline of darker substance thanthe enveloping mist. From it came also a sound of falling waters, andagainst it the sea was beating angrily. At the same time he wasconscious of a deadly chill in the air, and came to a suddencomprehension that the iceberg, to which he attributed all his presentdistress, was still close at hand.

  Its mere presence brought a new terror; for he knew that unless theattraction of its great bulk could be overcome, his little raft mustspeedily be drawn to it and dashed helplessly against its icy cliffs.This thought filled him with a momentary despair, for there seemed nopossibility of avoiding the impending fate. Then his eyes fell on apair of oars lashed, together with their metal rowlocks, to the sidesof his raft. In another minute he had shipped these and was pullingwith all his might away from that ill-omened neighbourhood.

  The progress of his clumsy craft was painfully slow; but it did move,and at the end the dreaded ice monster was beyond both sight andhearing. The exercise of rowing had warmed Cabot as well astemporarily diverted his mind from a contemplation of the terriblescenes through which he had so recently passed. Now, however, as herested on his oars, a full sense of his wretched plight came back tohim, and he grew sick at heart as he realised how forlorn was hissituation. He wondered if he could survive the night that was rapidlyclosing in on him, and, if he did, whether the morrow would find himany better off. He had no idea of the direction in which wind andcurrent were drifting him, whether further out to sea or towards theland. He was again shivering with cold, he was hungry and thirsty, andso filled with terror at the black waters leaping towards him from allsides that he finally flung himself face downward on the wet platformto escape from seeing them.

  When he next lifted his head he found himself in utter darkness,through which he fancied he could still hear the sound of watersdashing against frigid cliffs, and with an access of terror he oncemore sprang to his oars. Now he rowed with the wind, keeping it asdirectly astern as possible; nor did he pause in his efforts untilcompelled by exhaustion. Then he again lay down, and this time droppedinto a fitful doze.

  Waking a little later with chattering teeth, he resumed his oars forthe sake of warming exercise, and again rowed as long as he was able.So, with alternating periods of weary work and unrefreshing rest, theslow dragging hours of that interminable night were spent. Finally,after he had given up all hope of ever again seeing a gleam ofsunshine, a faint gray began to permeate the fog that still held him inits wet embrace, and Cabot knew that he had lived to see the beginningsof another day.

  To make sure that the almost imperceptible light really marked thedawn, he shut his eyes and resolutely kept them closed until he hadcounted five hundred. Then he opened them, and almost screamed withthe joy of being able to trace the outlines of his raft. Again andagain he did this until at length the black night shadows had beenfairly vanquished and only those of the fog remained.

  With the assurance that day had fairly come, and that the dreadediceberg was at least not close at hand, Cabot again soughtforgetfulness of his misery in sleep. When he awoke some hours later,aching in every bone, and painfully hungry, he was also filled with adelicious sense of warmth; for the sun, already near its meridian, wasshining as brightly as though no such things as fog or darkness hadever existed.

  On standing up and looking about him, the young castaway was relievedto note that the iceberg from which he had suffered so much was nolonger in sight. At the same time he was grievously disappointed thathe could discover no sail nor other token that any human being savehimself was abroad on all that lonely sea.

  He experienced a momentary exhilaration when, on turning to the west,he discovered a dark far-reaching line that he believed to be land; buthis spirits fell as he measured the distance separating him from it,and realised how slight a chance he had of ever gaining the coast. Tobe sure, the light breeze then blowing was in that direction, but itmight change at any moment; and even with it to aid his rowing hedoubted if his clumsy craft could make more than a mile an hour. Thusdarkness would again overtake him ere he had covered more than half therequired distance, though he should row steadily during the remainderof the day. He knew that his growing weakness would demand intervalsof rest with ever-increasing frequency until utter exhaustion shouldput an end to his efforts; and then what would become of him? Stillthere was nothing else to be done; and, with a dogged determination todie fighting, if die he must, the poor lad sat down and resumed hishopeless task.

  A life raft is not intended to be used as a rowboat, and is unprovidedwith either seats or foot braces. Being thus compelled to sit on theplatform, Cabot could get so little purchase that half his effort waswasted, and the progress made was barely noticeable. During hisfrequent pauses for rest he stood up to gaze longingly at the goal thatstill appeared as far away as ever, and grew more unattainable as theday wore on. At length the sun was well down the western sky, acrosswhich it appeared to race as never before. As Cabot watched it, andvaguely wished for the power once given to Joshua, the bleakness ofdespair suddenly enfolded him, and his eyes became blurred with tears.He covered them with his hands to shut out the mocking sunlight, andsat down because he was too weak to stand any longer. He had foughthis fight very nearly to a finish, and his strength was almost gone.He had perhaps brought his craft five miles nearer to the land than itwas when he set out; but after all what had been the gain? Apparentlythere was none, and he would not further torture his aching body withuseless effort.

  In the meantime a small schooner, bringing with her a fair wind, wasrunning rapidly down the coast, not many miles from where our poor ladso despairingly awaited the coming of night. That he had not seen herwhile standing up, was owing to the fact that her sails, instead ofbeing white, were tanned a dull red, that blended perfectly with thecolour of the distant shore line. A bright-faced, resolute chap,somewhat younger than Cabot, but of equally sturdy build, held thetiller, and regarded with evident approval the behaviour of hisspeeding craft.

  "We'll make it, Dave," he cried, cheerily. "The old 'Sea Bee's' gotthe wings of 'em this time."

  "Mebbe so," growled the individual addressed, an elderly man who stoodin the companionway, with his head just above the hatch, peeringforward under the swelling sails. "Mebbe so," he repeated, "and mebbenot. Steam's hard to beat on land or water, an' we be a far cry fromPretty Harbour yet. So fur that ef they're started they'll overhaul usbefore day, and beat us in by a good twelve hour. It's what I'mlooking fur."

&nb
sp; "Oh, pshaw!" replied the young skipper. "What a gammy old croaker youare. They won't start to-day, anyhow. But here, take her a minute,while I go aloft for one more look before sundown to make sure."

  As the man complied with this request, and waddling aft took thetiller, his more active companion sprang into the main rigging and ranrapidly to the masthead, from which point of vantage he gazed back fora full minute over the course they had come.

  "Not a sign," he shouted down at length. "But hello," he added tohimself, "what's that?" With a glance seaward his keen eye haddetected a distant floating object that was momentarily uplifted on theback of a long swell, and flashed white in the rays of the setting sun.

  "Luff her, David! Hard down with your hellum, and trim in all," heshouted to the steersman. "There, steady, so."

  "Wot's hup?" inquired the man a few minutes later, as the otherrejoined him on deck.

  "Don't know for sure; but there's something floating off there thatlooks like a bit of wreckage."

  "An' you, with all your hurry, going to stop fur a closer look, andlose time that'll mebbe prove the most wallyable of your life," growledthe man disgustedly. "Wal, I'll be jiggered!"

  "So would I, if I didn't," replied the lad. "It was one of dad's rulesnever to pass any kind of a wreck without at least one good look at it,and so it's one of mine as well. There's what I'm after, now. See,just off the starboard bow. It's a raft, and David, there's a man onit, sure as you live. Look, he's standing up and waving at us. Now,he's down again! Poor fellow! In with the jib, David! Spry now, andstand by with a line. I'm going to round up, right alongside."