VIII
THE CAPTAIN OF THE "POLESTAR"
(BEING AN EXTRACT FROM THE SINGULAR JOURNAL OF JOHN M'ALISTER RAY,STUDENT OF MEDICINE.)
_September 11th._--Lat. 81 deg. 40' N.; long. 2 deg. E. Still lying-to amidenormous ice fields. The one which stretches away to the north of us,and to which our ice-anchor is attached, cannot be smaller than anEnglish county. To the right and left unbroken sheets extend to thehorizon. This morning the mate reported that there were signs of packice to the southward. Should this form of sufficient thickness to barour return, we shall be in a position of danger, as the food, I hear, isalready running somewhat short. It is late in the season, and the nightsare beginning to reappear. This morning I saw a star twinkling just overthe fore-yard, the first since the beginning of May. There isconsiderable discontent among the crew, many of whom are anxious to getback home to be in time for the herring season, when labour alwayscommands a high price upon the Scotch coast. As yet their displeasure isonly signified by sullen countenances and black looks, but I heard fromthe second mate this afternoon that they contemplated sending adeputation to the Captain to explain their grievance. I much doubt howhe will receive it, as he is a man of fierce temper, and very sensitiveabout anything approaching to an infringement of his rights. I shallventure after dinner to say a few words to him upon the subject. I havealways found that he will tolerate from me what he would resent from anyother member of the crew. Amsterdam Island, at the north-west corner ofSpitzbergen, is visible upon our starboard quarter--a rugged line ofvolcanic rocks, intersected by white seams, which represent glaciers. Itis curious to think that at the present moment there is probably nohuman being nearer to us than the Danish settlements in the south ofGreenland--a good nine hundred miles as the crow flies. A captain takesa great responsibility upon himself when he risks his vessel under suchcircumstances. No whaler has ever remained in these latitudes till soadvanced a period of the year.
9 P.M.--I have spoken to Captain Craigie, and though the result has beenhardly satisfactory, I am bound to say that he listened to what I had tosay very quietly and even deferentially. When I had finished he put onthat air of iron determination which I have frequently observed upon hisface, and paced rapidly backwards and forwards across the narrow cabinfor some minutes. At first I feared that I had seriously offended him,but he dispelled the idea by sitting down again, and putting his handupon my arm with a gesture which almost amounted to a caress. There wasa depth of tenderness too in his wild dark eyes which surprised meconsiderably. "Look here, Doctor," he said, "I'm sorry I ever tookyou--I am indeed--and I would give fifty pounds this minute to see youstanding safe upon the Dundee quay. It's hit or miss with me this time.There are fish to the north of us. How dare you shake your head, sir,when I tell you I saw them blowing from the mast-head?"--this in asudden burst of fury, though I was not conscious of having shown anysigns of doubt. "Two-and-twenty fish in as many minutes as I am aliving man, and not one under ten foot.[1] Now, doctor, do you think Ican leave the country when there is only one infernal strip of icebetween me and my fortune? If it came on to blow from the northto-morrow we could fill the ship and be away before the frost couldcatch us. If it came on to blow from the south--well, I suppose the menare paid for risking their lives, and as for myself it matters butlittle to me, for I have more to bind me to the other world than to thisone. I confess that I am sorry for _you_, though. I wish I had old AngusTait who was with me last voyage, for he was a man that would never bemissed, and you--you said once that you were engaged, did you not?"
[Footnote 1: A whale is measured among whalers not by the length of itsbody, but by the length of its whalebone.]
"Yes," I answered, snapping the spring of the locket which hung from mywatch-chain, and holding up the little vignette of Flora.
"Curse you!" he yelled, springing out of his seat, with his very beardbristling with passion. "What is your happiness to me? What have I to dowith her that you must dangle her photograph before my eyes?" I almostthought that he was about to strike me in the frenzy of his rage, butwith another imprecation he dashed open the door of the cabin and rushedout upon deck, leaving me considerably astonished at his extraordinaryviolence. It is the first time that he has ever shown me anything butcourtesy and kindness. I can hear him pacing excitedly up and downoverhead as I write these lines.
I should like to give a sketch of the character of this man, but itseems presumptuous to attempt such a thing upon paper, when the idea inmy own mind is at best a vague and uncertain one. Several times I havethought that I grasped the clue which might explain it, but only to bedisappointed by his presenting himself in some new light which wouldupset all my conclusions. It may be that no human eye but my own shallever rest upon these lines, yet as a psychological study I shall attemptto leave some record of Captain Nicholas Craigie.
A man's outer case generally gives some indication of the soul within.The Captain is tall and well-formed, with dark, handsome face, and acurious way of twitching his limbs, which may arise from nervousness, orbe simply an outcome of his excessive energy. His jaw and whole cast ofcountenance is manly and resolute, but the eyes are the distinctivefeature of his face. They are of the very darkest hazel, bright andeager, with a singular mixture of recklessness in their expression, andof something else which I have sometimes thought was more allied withhorror than any other emotion. Generally the former predominated, but onoccasions, and more particularly when he was thoughtfully inclined, thelook of fear would spread and deepen until it imparted a new characterto his whole countenance. It is at these times that he is most subjectto tempestuous fits of anger, and he seems to be aware of it, for I haveknown him lock himself up so that no one might approach him until hisdark hour was passed. He sleeps badly, and I have heard him shoutingduring the night, but his cabin is some little distance from mine, and Icould never distinguish the words which he said.
This is one phase of his character, and the most disagreeable one. It isonly through my close association with him, thrown together as we areday after day, that I have observed it. Otherwise he is an agreeablecompanion, well-read and entertaining, and as gallant a seaman as evertrod a deck. I shall not easily forget the way in which he handled theship when we were caught by a gale among the loose ice at the beginningof April. I have never seen him so cheerful, and even hilarious, as hewas that night, as he paced backwards and forwards upon the bridge amidthe flashing of the lightning and the howling of the wind. He has toldme several times that the thought of death was a pleasant one to him,which is a sad thing for a young man to say; he cannot be much more thanthirty, though his hair and moustache are already slightly grizzled.Some great sorrow must have overtaken him and blighted his whole life.Perhaps I should be the same if I lost my Flora--God knows! I think ifit were not for her that I should care very little whether the wind blewfrom the north or the south to-morrow. There, I hear him come down thecompanion, and he has locked himself up in his room, which shows that heis still in an unamiable mood. And so to bed, as old Pepys would say,for the candle is burning down (we have to use them now since the nightsare closing in), and the steward has turned in, so there are no hopes ofanother one.
_September 12th._--Calm, clear day, and still lying in the sameposition. What wind there is comes from the south-east, but it is veryslight. Captain is in a better humour, and apologised to me atbreakfast for his rudeness. He still looks somewhat distrait, however,and retains that wild look in his eyes which in a Highlander would meanthat he was "fey"--at least so our chief engineer remarked to me, and hehas some reputation among the Celtic portion of our crew as a seer andexpounder of omens.
It is strange that superstition should have obtained such mastery overthis hard-headed and practical race. I could not have believed to whatan extent it is carried had I not observed it for myself. We have had aperfect epidemic of it this voyage, until I have felt inclined to serveout rations of sedatives and nerve-tonics with the Saturday allowance ofgrog. The first symptom of it was that shortly aft
er leaving Shetlandthe men at the wheel used to complain that they heard plaintive criesand screams in the wake of the ship, as if something were following itand were unable to overtake it. This fiction has been kept up during thewhole voyage, and on dark nights at the beginning of the seal-fishing itwas only with great difficulty that men could be induced to do theirspell. No doubt what they heard was either the creaking of therudder-chains, or the cry of some passing sea-bird. I have been fetchedout of bed several times to listen to it, but I need hardly say that Iwas never able to distinguish anything unnatural. The men, however, areso absurdly positive upon the subject that it is hopeless to argue withthem. I mentioned the matter to the Captain once, but to my surprise hetook it very gravely, and indeed appeared to be considerably disturbedby what I told him. I should have thought that he at least would havebeen above such vulgar delusions.
All this disquisition upon superstition leads me up to the fact thatMr. Manson, our second mate, saw a ghost last night--or, at least, saysthat he did, which of course is the same thing. It is quite refreshingto have some new topic of conversation after the eternal routine ofbears and whales which has served us for so many months. Manson swearsthe ship is haunted, and that he would not stay in her a day if he hadany other place to go to. Indeed the fellow is honestly frightened, andI had to give him some chloral and bromide of potassium this morning tosteady him down. He seemed quite indignant when I suggested that he hadbeen having an extra glass the night before, and I was obliged to pacifyhim by keeping as grave a countenance as possible during his story,which he certainly narrated in a very straightforward and matter-of-factway.
"I was on the bridge," he said, "about four bells in the middle watch,just when the night was at its darkest. There was a bit of a moon, butthe clouds were blowing across it so that you couldn't see far from theship. John M'Leod, the harpooner, came aft from the fo'c'sle-head andreported a strange noise on the starboard bow. I went forrard and weboth heard it, sometimes like a bairn crying and sometimes like a wenchin pain. I've been seventeen years to the country and I never heardseal, old or young, make a sound like that. As we were standing there onthe fo'c'sle-head the moon came out from behind a cloud, and we both sawa sort of white figure moving across the ice field in the same directionthat we had heard the cries. We lost sight of it for a while, but itcame back on the port bow, and we could just make it out like a shadowon the ice. I sent a hand aft for the rifles, and M'Leod and I wentdown on to the pack, thinking that maybe it might be a bear. When wegot on the ice I lost sight of M'Leod, but I pushed on in the directionwhere I could still hear the cries. I followed them for a mile or maybemore, and then running round a hummock I came right on to the top of itstanding and waiting for me seemingly. I don't know what it was. Itwasn't a bear, anyway. It was tall and white and straight, and if itwasn't a man nor a woman, I'll stake my davy it was something worse. Imade for the ship as hard as I could run, and precious glad I was tofind myself aboard. I signed articles to do my duty by the ship, and onthe ship I'll stay, but you don't catch me on the ice again aftersundown."
That is his story, given as far as I can in his own words. I fancy whathe saw must, in spite of his denial, have been a young bear erect uponits hind legs, an attitude which they often assume when alarmed. In theuncertain light this would bear a resemblance to a human figure,especially to a man whose nerves were already somewhat shaken. Whateverit may have been, the occurrence is unfortunate, for it has produced amost unpleasant effect upon the crew. Their looks are more sullen thanbefore, and their discontent more open. The double grievance of beingdebarred from the herring fishing and of being detained in what theychoose to call a haunted vessel, may lead them to do something rash.Even the harpooners, who are the oldest and steadiest among them, arejoining in the general agitation.
Apart from this absurd outbreak of superstition, things are lookingrather more cheerful. The pack which was forming to the south of us haspartly cleared away, and the water is so warm as to lead me to believethat we are lying in one of those branches of the gulf-stream which runup between Greenland and Spitzbergen. There are numerous small Medusaeand sealemons about the ship, with abundance of shrimps, so that thereis every possibility of "fish" being sighted. Indeed one was seenblowing about dinner-time, but in such a position that it was impossiblefor the boats to follow it.
_September 13th._--Had an interesting conversation with the chief mate,Mr. Milne, upon the bridge. It seems that our captain is as great anenigma to the seamen, and even to the owners of the vessel, as he hasbeen to me. Mr. Milne tells me that when the ship is paid off, uponreturning from a voyage, Captain Craigie disappears, and is not seenagain until the approach of another season, when he walks quietly intothe office of the company, and asks whether his services will berequired. He has no friend in Dundee, nor does any one pretend to beacquainted with his early history. His position depends entirely uponhis skill as a seaman, and the name for courage and coolness which hehad earned in the capacity of mate, before being entrusted with aseparate command. The unanimous opinion seems to be that he is not aScotchman, and that his name is an assumed one. Mr. Milne thinks that hehas devoted himself to whaling simply for the reason that it is the mostdangerous occupation which he could select, and that he courts death inevery possible manner. He mentioned several instances of this, one ofwhich is rather curious, if true. It seems that on one occasion he didnot put in an appearance at the office, and a substitute had to beselected in his place. That was at the time of the last Russian andTurkish War. When he turned up again next spring he had a puckered woundin the side of his neck which he used to endeavor to conceal with hiscravat. Whether the mate's inference that he had been engaged in the waris true or not I cannot say. It was certainly a strange coincidence.
The wind is veering round in an easterly direction, but is still veryslight. I think the ice is lying closer than it did yesterday. As far asthe eye can reach on every side there is one wide expanse of spotlesswhite, only broken by an occasional rift or the dark shadow of ahummock. To the south there is the narrow lane of blue water which isour sole means of escape, and which is closing up every day. The Captainis taking a heavy responsibility upon himself. I hear that the tank ofpotatoes has been finished, and even the biscuits are running short, buthe preserves the same impassable countenance, and spends the greaterpart of the day at the crow's nest, sweeping the horizon with his glass.His manner is very variable, and he seems to avoid my society, but therehas been no repetition of the violence which he showed the other night.
7.30 P.M.--My deliberate opinion is that we are commanded by a madman.Nothing else can account for the extraordinary vagaries of CaptainCraigie. It is fortunate that I have kept this journal of our voyage, asit will serve to justify us in case we have to put him under any sort ofrestraint, a step which I should only consent to as a last resource.Curiously enough it was he himself who suggested lunacy and not mereeccentricity as the secret of his strange conduct. He was standing uponthe bridge about an hour ago, peering as usual through his glass, whileI was walking up and down the quarter-deck. The majority of the men werebelow at their tea, for the watches have not been regularly kept oflate. Tired of walking, I leaned against the bulwarks, and admired themellow glow cast by the sinking sun upon the great ice fields whichsurround us. I was suddenly aroused from the reverie into which I hadfallen by a hoarse voice at my elbow, and starting round I found thatthe Captain had descended and was standing by my side. He was staringout over the ice with an expression in which horror, surprise, andsomething approaching to joy were contending for the mastery. In spiteof the cold, great drops of perspiration were coursing down hisforehead, and he was evidently fearfully excited. His limbs twitchedlike those of a man upon the verge of an epileptic fit, and the linesabout his mouth were drawn and hard.
"Look!" he gasped, seizing me by the wrist, but still keeping his eyesupon the distant ice, and moving his head slowly in a horizontaldirection, as if following some object which was moving across the fieldof vision. "
Look! There, man, there! Between the hummocks! Now comingout from behind the far one! You see her--you _must_ see her! Therestill! Flying from me, by God, flying from me--and gone!"
He uttered the last two words in a whisper of concentrated agony whichshall never fade from my remembrance. Clinging to the ratlines heendeavoured to climb up upon the top of the bulwarks as if in the hopeof obtaining a last glance at the departing object. His strength wasnot equal to the attempt, however, and he staggered back against thesaloon skylights, where he leaned panting and exhausted. His face was solivid that I expected him to become unconscious, so lost no time inleading him down the companion, and stretching him upon one of the sofasin the cabin. I then poured him out some brandy, which I held to hislips, and which had a wonderful effect upon him, bringing the blood backinto his white face and steadying his poor shaking limbs. He raisedhimself up upon his elbow, and looking round to see that we were alone,he beckoned to me to come and sit beside him.
"You saw it, didn't you?" he asked, still in the same subdued awesometone so foreign to the nature of the man.
"No, I saw nothing."
His head sank back again upon the cushions. "No, he wouldn't without theglass," he murmured. "He couldn't. It was the glass that showed her tome, and then the eyes of love--the eyes of love. I say, Doc, don't letthe steward in! He'll think I'm mad. Just bolt the door, will you!"
I rose and did what he commanded.
He lay quiet for a while, lost in thought apparently, and then raisedhimself up upon his elbow again, and asked for some more brandy.
"You don't think I am, do you Doc?" he asked, as I was putting thebottle back into the after-locker. "Tell me now, as man to man, do youthink that I am mad?"
"I think you have something on your mind," I answered, "which isexciting you and doing you a good deal of harm."
"Right there, lad!" he cried, his eyes sparkling from the effects of thebrandy. "Plenty on my mind--plenty! But I can work out the latitude andthe longitude, and I can handle my sextant and manage my logarithms. Youcouldn't prove me mad in a court of law, could you, now?" It was curiousto hear the man lying back and coolly arguing out the question of hisown sanity.
"Perhaps not," I said; "but still I think you would be wise to get homeas soon as you can, and settle down to a quiet life for a while."
"Get home, eh?" he muttered, with a sneer upon his face. "One word forme and two for yourself, lad. Settle down with Flora--pretty littleFlora. Are bad dreams signs of madness?"
"Sometimes," I answered.
"What else? What would be the first symptoms?"
"Pains in the head, noises in the ears, flashes before the eyes,delusions----"
"Ah! what about them?" he interrupted. "What would you call a delusion?"
"Seeing a thing which is not there is a delusion."
"But she _was_ there!" he groaned to himself. "She _was_ there!" andrising, he unbolted the door and walked with slow and uncertain steps tohis own cabin, where I have no doubt that he will remain until to-morrowmorning. His system seems to have received a terrible shock, whatever itmay have been that he imagined himself to have seen. The man becomes agreater mystery every day, though I fear that the solution which he hashimself suggested is the correct one, and that his reason is affected. Ido not think that a guilty conscience has anything to do with hisbehaviour. The idea is a popular one among the officers, and, Ibelieve, the crew; but I have seen nothing to support it. He has not theair of a guilty man, but of one who has had terrible usage at the handsof fortune, and who should be regarded as a martyr rather than acriminal.
The wind is veering round to the south to-night. God help us if itblocks that narrow pass which is our only road to safety! Situated as weare on the edge of the main Arctic pack, or the "barrier" as it iscalled by the whalers, any wind from the north has the effect ofshredding out the ice around us and allowing our escape, while a windfrom the south blows up all the loose ice behind us and hems us inbetween two packs. God help us, I say again!
_September 14th._--Sunday, and a day of rest. My fears have beenconfirmed, and the thin strip of blue water has disappeared from thesouthward. Nothing but the great motionless ice fields around us, withtheir weird hummocks and fantastic pinnacles. There is a deathly silenceover their wide expanse which is horrible. No lapping of the waves now,no cries of seagulls or straining of sails, but one deep universalsilence in which the murmurs of the seamen, and the creak of their bootsupon the white shining deck, seem discordant and out of place. Our onlyvisitor was an Arctic fox, a rare animal upon the pack, though commonenough upon the land. He did not come near the ship, however, but aftersurveying us from a distance fled rapidly across the ice. This wascurious conduct, as they generally know nothing of man, and being of aninquisitive nature, become so familiar that they are easily captured.Incredible as it may seem, even this little incident produced a badeffect upon the crew. "Yon puir beastie kens mair, ay, an' sees mair noryou nor me!" was the comment of one of the leading harpooners, and theothers nodded their acquiescence. It is vain to attempt to argue againstsuch puerile superstition. They have made up their minds that there is acurse upon the ship, and nothing will ever persuade them to thecontrary.
The Captain remained in seclusion all day except for about half an hourin the afternoon, when he came out upon the quarter-deck. I observedthat he kept his eye fixed upon the spot where the vision of yesterdayhad appeared, and was quite prepared for another outburst, but none suchcame. He did not seem to see me although I was standing close besidehim. Divine service was read as usual by the chief engineer. It is acurious thing that in whaling vessels the Church of England Prayer-bookis always employed, although there is never a member of that Churchamong either officers or crew. Our men are all Roman Catholics orPresbyterians, the former predominating. Since a ritual is used which isforeign to both, neither can complain that the other is preferred tothem, and they listen with all attention and devotion, so that thesystem has something to recommend it.
A glorious sunset, which made the great fields of ice look like a lakeof blood. I have never seen a finer and at the same time more weirdeffect. Wind is veering round. If it will blow twenty-four hours fromthe north all will yet be well.
_September 15th._--To-day is Flora's birthday. Dear lass! it is wellthat she cannot see her boy, as she used to call me, shut up among theice fields with a crazy captain and a few weeks' provisions. No doubtshe scans the shipping list in the _Scotsman_ every morning to see if weare reported from Shetland. I have to set an example to the men and lookcheery and unconcerned; but God knows, my heart is very heavy at times.
The thermometer is at nineteen Fahrenheit to-day. There is but littlewind, and what there is comes from an unfavourable quarter. Captain isin an excellent humour; I think he imagines he has seen some other omenor vision, poor fellow, during the night, for he came into my room earlyin the morning, and stooping down over my bunk, whispered, "It wasn't adelusion, Doc; it's all right!" After breakfast he asked me to find outhow much food was left, which the second mate and I proceeded to do. Itis even less than we had expected. Forward they have half a tank full ofbiscuits, three barrels of salt meat, and a very limited supply ofcoffee beans and sugar. In the after-hold and lockers there are a goodmany luxuries, such as tinned salmon, soups, haricot mutton, etc., butthey will go a very short way among a crew of fifty men. There are twobarrels of flour in the store-room, and an unlimited supply of tobacco.Altogether there is about enough to keep the men on half rations foreighteen or twenty days--certainly not more. When we reported the stateof things to the Captain, he ordered all hands to be piped, andaddressed them from the quarter-deck. I never saw him to betteradvantage. With his tall, well-knit figure, and dark animated face, heseemed a man born to command, and he discussed the situation in a coolsailor-like way which showed that while appreciating the danger he hadan eye for every loophole of escape.
"My lads," he said, "no doubt you think I brought you into this fix, ifit is a fix, and maybe some of you feel
bitter against me on account ofit. But you must remember that for many a season no ship that comes tothe country has brought in as much oil-money as the old _Polestar_, andevery one of you has had his share of it. You can leave your wivesbehind you in comfort, while other poor fellows come back to find theirlasses on the parish. If you have to thank me for the one you have tothank me for the other, and we may call it quits. We've tried a boldventure before this and succeeded, so now that we've tried one andfailed we've no cause to cry out about it. If the worst comes to theworst, we can make the land across the ice, and lay in a stock of sealswhich will keep us alive until the spring. It won't come to that,though, for you'll see the Scotch coast again before three weeks areout. At present every man must go on half rations, share and sharealike, and no favour to any. Keep up your hearts and you'll pull throughthis as you've pulled through many a danger before." These few simplewords of his had a wonderful effect upon the crew. His formerunpopularity was forgotten, and the old harpooner whom I have alreadymentioned for his superstition, led off three cheers, which wereheartily joined in by all hands.
_September 16th._--The wind has veered round to the north during thenight, and the ice shows some symptoms of opening out. The men are ingood humour in spite of the short allowance upon which they have beenplaced. Steam is kept up in the engine-room, that there may be no delayshould an opportunity for escape present itself. The Captain is inexuberant spirits, though he still retains that wild "fey" expressionwhich I have already remarked upon. This burst of cheerfulness puzzlesme more than his former gloom. I cannot understand it. I think Imentioned in an early part of this journal that one of his oddities isthat he never permits any person to enter his cabin, but insists uponmaking his own bed, such as it is, and performing every other office forhimself. To my surprise he handed me the key to-day and requested me togo down there and take the time by his chronometer while he measured thealtitude of the sun at noon. It is a bare little room, containing awashing-stand and a few books, but little else in the way of luxury,except some pictures upon the walls. The majority of these are smallcheap oleographs, but there was one water-coloured sketch of the head ofa young lady which arrested my attention. It was evidently a portrait,and not one of those fancy types of female beauty which sailorsparticularly affect. No artist could have evolved from his own mind sucha curious mixture of character and weakness. The languid, dreamy eyes,with their drooping lashes, and the broad, low brow, unruffled bythought or care, were in strong contrast with the clean-cut, prominentjaw, and the resolute set of the lower lip. Underneath it in one of thecorners was written, "M. B., aet. 19." That any one in the short space ofnineteen years of existence could develop such strength of will as wasstamped upon her face seemed to me at the time to be well-nighincredible. She must have been an extraordinary woman. Her features havethrown such a glamour over me that, though I had but a fleeting glanceat them, I could, were I a draughtsman, reproduce them line for lineupon this page of the journal. I wonder what part she has played in ourCaptain's life. He has hung her picture at the end of his berth, so thathis eyes continually rest upon it. Were he a less reserved man I shouldmake some remark upon the subject. Of the other things in his cabinthere was nothing worthy of mention--uniform coats, a camp-stool, smalllooking-glass, tobacco-box, and numerous pipes, including an orientalhookah--which, by the by, gives some colour to Mr. Milne's story abouthis participation in the war, though the connection may seem rather adistant one.
11.20 P.M.--Captain just gone to bed after a long and interestingconversation on general topics. When he chooses he can be a mostfascinating companion, being remarkably well-read, and having the powerof expressing his opinion forcibly without appearing to be dogmatic. Ihate to have my intellectual toes trod upon. He spoke about the natureof the soul, and sketched out the views of Aristotle and Plato upon thesubject in a masterly manner. He seems to have a leaning formetempsychosis and the doctrines of Pythagoras. In discussing them wetouched upon modern spiritualism, and I made some joking allusion to theimpostures of Slade, upon which, to my surprise, he warned me mostimpressively against confusing the innocent with the guilty, and arguedthat it would be as logical to brand Christianity as an error becauseJudas, who professed that religion, was a villain. He shortly afterwardsbade me good-night and retired to his room.
The wind is freshening up, and blows steadily from the north. The nightsare as dark now as they are in England. I hope to-morrow may set us freefrom our frozen fetters.
_September 17th._--The Bogie again. Thank Heaven that I have strongnerves! The superstition of these poor fellows, and the circumstantialaccounts which they give, with the utmost earnestness andself-conviction, would horrify any man not accustomed to their ways.There are many versions of the matter, but the sum-total of them all isthat something uncanny has been flitting round the ship all night, andthat Sandie M'Donald of Peterhead and "lang" Peter Williamson ofShetland saw it, as also did Mr. Milne on the bridge--so, having threewitnesses, they can make a better case of it than the second mate did. Ispoke to Milne after breakfast, and told him that he should be abovesuch nonsense, and that as an officer he ought to set the men a betterexample. He shook his weather-beaten head ominously, but answered withcharacteristic caution, "Mebbe, aye, mebbe na, Doctor," he said, "Ididna ca' it a ghaist. I canna' say I preen my faith in sea-bogles an'the like, though there's a mony as claims to ha' seen a' that and waur.I'm no easy feared, but maybe your ain bluid would run a bit cauld, mun,if instead o' speerin' aboot it in daylicht ye were wi' me last night,an' seed an awfu' like shape, white an' gruesome, whiles here, whilesthere, an' it greetin' an' ca'ing in the darkness like a bit lambie thathae lost its mither. Ye would na' be sae ready to put it a' doon to auldwives' clavers then, I'm thinkin'." I saw it was hopeless to reason withhim, so contented myself with begging him as a personal favour to callme up the next time the spectre appeared--a request to which he accededwith many ejaculations expressive of his hopes that such an opportunitymight never arise.
As I had hoped, the white desert behind us has become broken by manythin streaks of water which intersect it in all directions. Our latitudeto-day was 80 deg. 52' N., which shows that there is a strong southerlydrift upon the pack. Should the wind continue favourable it will breakup as rapidly as it formed. At present we can do nothing but smoke andwait and hope for the best. I am rapidly becoming a fatalist. Whendealing with such uncertain factors as wind and ice a man can be nothingelse. Perhaps it was the wind and sand of the Arabian deserts which gavethe minds of the original followers of Mahomet their tendency to bow tokismet.
These spectral alarms have a very bad effect upon the Captain. I fearedthat it might excite his sensitive mind, and endeavoured to conceal theabsurd story from him, but unfortunately he overheard one of the menmaking an allusion to it, and insisted upon being informed about it. AsI had expected, it brought out all his latent lunacy in an exaggeratedform. I can hardly believe that this is the same man who discoursedphilosophy last night with the most critical acumen and coolestjudgment. He is pacing backwards and forwards upon the quarter-deck likea caged tiger, stopping now and again to throw out his hands with ayearning gesture, and stare impatiently out over the ice. He keeps up acontinual mutter to himself, and once he called out, "But a little time,love--but a little time!" Poor fellow, it is sad to see a gallant seamanand accomplished gentleman reduced to such a pass, and to think thatimagination and delusion can cow a mind to which real danger was but thesalt of life. Was ever a man in such a position as I, between a dementedcaptain and a ghost-seeing mate? I sometimes think I am the only reallysane man aboard the vessel--except perhaps the second engineer, who is akind of ruminant, and would care nothing for all the fiends in the RedSea so long as they would leave him alone and not disarrange his tools.
The ice is still opening rapidly, and there is every probability of ourbeing able to make a start to-morrow morning. They will think I aminventing when I tell them at home all the strange things that havebefallen me.
12 P.M.--I
have been a good deal startled, though I feel steadier now,thanks to a stiff glass of brandy. I am hardly myself yet, however, asthis handwriting will testify. The fact is, that I have gone through avery strange experience, and am beginning to doubt whether I wasjustified in branding every one on board as madmen because theyprofessed to have seen things which did not seem reasonable to myunderstanding. Pshaw! I am a fool to let such a trifle unnerve me; andyet, coming as it does after all these alarms, it has an additionalsignificance, for I cannot doubt either Mr. Manson's story or that ofthe mate, now that I have experienced that which I used formerly toscoff at.
After all it was nothing very alarming--a mere sound, and that was all.I cannot expect that any one reading this, if any one should read it,will sympathise with my feelings, or realise the effect which itproduced upon me at the time. Supper was over, and I had gone on deck tohave a quiet pipe before turning in. The night was very dark--so darkthat, standing under the quarter-boat, I was unable to see the officerupon the bridge. I think I have already mentioned the extraordinarysilence which prevails in these frozen seas. In other parts of theworld, be they ever so barren, there is some slight vibration of theair--some faint hum, be it from the distant haunts of men, or from theleaves of the trees, of the wings of the birds, or even the faint rustleof the grass that covers the ground. One may not actively perceive thesound, and yet if it were withdrawn it would be missed. It is only herein these Arctic seas that stark, unfathomable stillness obtrudes itselfupon you in all its gruesome reality. You find your tympanum strainingto catch some little murmur, and dwelling eagerly upon every accidentalsound within the vessel. In this state I was leaning against thebulwarks when there arose from the ice almost directly underneath me acry, sharp and shrill, upon the silent air of the night, beginning, asit seemed to me, at a note such as prima donna never reached, andmounting from that ever higher and higher until it culminated in a longwail of agony, which might have been the last cry of a lost soul. Theghastly scream is still ringing in my ears. Grief, unutterable grief,seemed to be expressed in it, and a great longing, and yet through itall there was an occasional wild note of exultation. It shrilled outfrom close beside me, and yet as I glared into the darkness I coulddiscern nothing. I waited some little time, but without hearing anyrepetition of the sound, so I came below, more shaken than I have everbeen in my life before. As I came down the companion I met Mr. Milnecoming up to relieve the watch. "Weel, Doctor," he said, "maybe that'sauld wives' clavers tae? Did ye no hear it skirling? Maybe that's asupersteetion? What d'ye think o't noo?" I was obliged to apologise tothe honest fellow, and acknowledge that I was as puzzled by it as hewas. Perhaps to-morrow things may look different. At present I darehardly write all that I think. Reading it again in days to come, when Ihave shaken off all these associations, I should despise myself forhaving been so weak.
_September 18th._--Passed a restless and uneasy night, still haunted bythat strange sound. The Captain does not look as if he had had muchrepose either, for his face is haggard and his eyes blood-shot. I havenot told him of my adventure of last night, nor shall I. He is alreadyrestless and excited, standing up, sitting down, and apparently utterlyunable to keep still.
A fine lead appeared in the pack this morning, as I had expected, and wewere able to cast off our ice-anchor, and steam about twelve miles in awest-sou'-westerly direction. We were then brought to a halt by a greatfloe as massive as any which we have left behind us. It bars ourprogress completely, so we can do nothing but anchor again and waituntil it breaks up, which it will probably do within twenty-four hours,if the wind holds. Several bladder-nosed seals were seen swimming in thewater, and one was shot, an immense creature more than eleven feet long.They are fierce, pugnacious animals, and are said to be more than amatch for a bear. Fortunately they are slow and clumsy in theirmovements, so that there is little danger in attacking them upon theice.
The Captain evidently does not think we have seen the last of ourtroubles, though why he should take a gloomy view of the situation ismore than I can fathom, since every one else on board considers that wehave had a miraculous escape, and are sure now to reach the open sea.
"I suppose you think it's all right now, Doctor?" he said, as we sattogether after dinner.
"I hope so," I answered.
"We mustn't be too sure--and yet no doubt you are right. We'll all be inthe arms of our own true loves before long, lad, won't we? But wemustn't be too sure--we mustn't be too sure."
He sat silent a little, swinging his leg thoughtfully backward andforwards. "Look here," he continued; "it's a dangerous place this, evenat its best--a treacherous, dangerous place. I have known men cut offvery suddenly in a land like this. A slip would do it sometimes--asingle slip, and down you go through a crack, and only a bubble on thegreen water to show where it was that you sank. It's a queer thing," hecontinued with a nervous laugh, "but all the years I've been in thiscountry I never once thought of making a will--not that I have anythingto leave in particular, but still when a man is exposed to danger heshould have everything arranged and ready--don't you think so?"
"Certainly," I answered, wondering what on earth he was driving at.
"He feels better for knowing it's all settled," he went on. "Now ifanything should ever befall me, I hope that you will look after thingsfor me. There is very little in the cabin, but such as it is I shouldlike it to be sold, and the money divided in the same proportion as theoil-money among the crew. The chronometer I wish you to keep yourself assome slight remembrance of our voyage. Of course all this is a mereprecaution, but I thought I would take the opportunity of speaking toyou about it. I suppose I might rely upon you if there were anynecessity?"
"Most assuredly," I answered; "and since you are taking this step, I mayas well----"
"You! you!" he interrupted. "_You're_ all right. What the devil is thematter with _you_? There, I didn't mean to be peppery, but I don't liketo hear a young fellow, that has hardly begun life, speculating aboutdeath. Go up on deck and get some fresh air into your lungs instead oftalking nonsense in the cabin, and encouraging me to do the same."
The more I think of this conversation of ours the less do I like it. Whyshould the man be settling his affairs at the very time when we seem tobe emerging from all danger? There must be some method in his madness.Can it be that he contemplates suicide? I remember that upon oneoccasion he spoke in a deeply reverent manner of the heinousness of thecrime of self-destruction. I shall keep my eye upon him, however, andthough I cannot obtrude upon the privacy of his cabin, I shall at leastmake a point of remaining on deck as long as he stays up.
Mr. Milne pooh-poohs my fears, and says it is only the "skipper's littleway." He himself takes a very rosy view of the situation. According tohim we shall be out of the ice by the day after to-morrow, pass JanMeyen two days after that, and sight Shetland in little more than aweek. I hope he may not be too sanguine. His opinion may be fairlybalanced against the gloomy precautions of the Captain, for he is an oldand experienced seaman, and weighs his words well before uttering them.
* * * * *
The long-impending catastrophe has come at last. I hardly know what towrite about it. The Captain is gone. He may come back to us again alive,but I fear me--I fear me. It is now seven o'clock of the morning of the19th of September. I have spent the whole night traversing the greatice-floe in front of us with a party of seamen in the hope of comingupon some trace of him, but in vain. I shall try to give some account ofthe circumstances which attended upon his disappearance. Should any oneever chance to read the words which I put down, I trust they willremember that I do not write from conjecture or from hearsay, but thatI, a sane and educated man, am describing accurately what actuallyoccurred before my very eyes. My inferences are my own, but I shall beanswerable for the facts.
The Captain remained in excellent spirits after the conversation which Ihave recorded. He appeared to be nervous and impatient, however,frequently changing his position, and moving his limb
s in an aimlesschoreic way which is characteristic of him at times. In a quarter of anhour he went upon deck seven times, only to descend after a few hurriedpaces. I followed him each time, for there was something about his facewhich confirmed my resolution of not letting him out of my sight. Heseemed to observe the effect which his movements had produced, for heendeavoured by an over-done hilarity, laughing boisterously at the verysmallest of jokes, to quiet my apprehensions.
After supper he went on to the poop once more, and I with him. The nightwas dark and very still, save for the melancholy soughing of the windamong the spars. A thick cloud was coming up from the north-west, andthe ragged tentacles which it threw out in front of it were driftingacross the face of the moon, which only shone now and again through arift in the wrack. The Captain paced rapidly backwards and forwards, andthen seeing me still dogging him, he came across and hinted that hethought I should be better below--which, I need hardly say, had theeffect of strengthening my resolution to remain on deck.
I think he forgot about my presence after this, for he stood silentlyleaning over the taffrail and peering out across the great desert ofsnow, part of which lay in shadow, while part glittered mistily in themoonlight. Several times I could see by his movements that he wasreferring to his watch, and once he muttered a short sentence, of whichI could only catch the one word "ready." I confess to having felt aneerie feeling creeping over me as I watched the loom of his tall figurethrough the darkness, and noted how completely he fulfilled the idea ofa man who is keeping a tryst. A tryst with whom? Some vague perceptionbegan to dawn upon me as I pieced one fact with another, but I wasutterly unprepared for the sequel.
By the sudden intensity of his attitude I felt that he saw something. Icrept up behind him. He was staring with an eager questioning gaze atwhat seemed to be a wreath of mist, blown swiftly in a line with theship. It was a dim nebulous body, devoid of shape, sometimes more,sometimes less apparent, as the light fell on it. The moon was dimmed inits brilliancy at the moment by a canopy of thinnest cloud, like thecoating of an anemone.
"Coming, lass, coming," cried the skipper, in a voice of unfathomabletenderness and compassion, like one who soothes a beloved one by somefavour long looked for, and as pleasant to bestow as to receive.
What followed happened in an instant. I had no power to interfere. Hegave one spring to the top of the bulwarks, and another which took himon to the ice, almost to the feet of the pale misty figure. He held outhis hands as if to clasp it, and so ran into the darkness withoutstretched arms and loving words. I still stood rigid and motionless,straining my eyes after his retreating form, until his voice died awayin the distance. I never thought to see him again, but at that momentthe moon shone out brilliantly through a chink in the cloudy heaven, andilluminated the great field of ice. Then I saw his dark figure already avery long way off, running with prodigious speed across the frozenplain. That was the last glimpse which we caught of him--perhaps thelast we ever shall. A party was organised to follow him, and Iaccompanied them, but the men's hearts were not in the work, and nothingwas found. Another will be formed within a few hours. I can hardlybelieve I have not been dreaming, or suffering from some hideousnightmare, as I write these things down.
7.30 P.M.--Just returned dead beat and utterly tired out from a secondunsuccessful search for the Captain. The floe is of enormous extent, forthough we have traversed at least twenty miles of its surface, there hasbeen no sign of its coming to an end. The frost has been so severe oflate that the overlying snow is frozen as hard as granite, otherwise wemight have had the foot-steps to guide us. The crew are anxious that weshould cast off and steam round the floe and so to the southward, forthe ice has opened up during the night, and the sea is visible upon thehorizon. They argue that Captain Craigie is certainly dead, and that weare all risking our lives to no purpose by remaining when we have anopportunity of escape. Mr. Milne and I have had the greatest difficultyin persuading them to wait until to-morrow night, and have beencompelled to promise that we will not under any circumstances delay ourdeparture longer than that. We propose therefore to take a few hours'sleep, and then to start upon a final search.
_September 20th, evening._--I crossed the ice this morning with a partyof men exploring the southern part of the floe, while Mr. Milne went offin a northerly direction. We pushed on for ten or twelve miles withoutseeing a trace of any living thing except a single bird, which fluttereda great way over our heads, and which by its flight I should judge tohave been a falcon. The southern extremity of the ice field tapered awayinto a long narrow spit which projected out into the sea. When we cameto the base of this promontory, the men halted, but I begged them tocontinue to the extreme end of it, that we might have the satisfactionof knowing that no possible chance had been neglected.
We had hardly gone a hundred yards before M'Donald of Peterhead criedout that he saw something in front of us, and began to run. We all got aglimpse of it and ran too. At first it was only a vague darkness againstthe white ice, but as we raced along together it took the shape of aman, and eventually of the man of whom we were in search. He was lyingface downwards upon a frozen bank. Many little crystals of ice andfeathers of snow had drifted on to him as he lay, and sparkled upon hisdark seaman's jacket. As we came up some wandering puff of wind caughtthese tiny flakes in its vortex, and they whirled up into the air,partially descended again, and then, caught once more in the current,sped rapidly away in the direction of the sea. To my eyes it seemed buta snow-drift, but many of my companions averred that it started up inthe shape of a woman, stooped over the corpse and kissed it, and thenhurried away across the floe. I have learned never to ridicule any man'sopinion, however strange it may seem. Sure it is that Captain NicholasCraigie had met with no painful end, for there was a bright smile uponhis blue pinched features, and his hands were still outstretched asthough grasping at the strange visitor which had summoned him away intothe dim world that lies beyond the grave.
We buried him the same afternoon with the ship's ensign around him, anda thirty-two pound shot at his feet. I read the burial service, whilethe rough sailors wept like children, for there were many who owed muchto his kind heart, and who showed now the affection which his strangeways had repelled during his lifetime. He went off the grating with adull, sullen splash, and as I looked into the green water I saw him godown, down, down until he was but a little flickering patch of whitehanging upon the outskirts of eternal darkness. Then even that fadedaway, and he was gone. There he shall lie, with his secret and hissorrows and his mystery all still buried in his breast, until that greatday when the sea shall give up its dead, and Nicholas Craigie come outfrom among the ice with the smile upon his face, and his stiffened armsoutstretched in greeting. I pray that his lot may be a happier one inthat life than it has been in this.
I shall not continue my journal. Our road to home lies plain and clearbefore us, and the great ice field will soon be but a remembrance of thepast. It will be some time before I get over the shock produced byrecent events. When I began this record of our voyage I little thoughtof how I should be compelled to finish it. I am writing these finalwords in the lonely cabin, still starting at times and fancying I hearthe quick nervous step of the dead man upon the deck above me. I enteredhis cabin to-night, as was my duty, to make a list of his effects inorder that they might be entered in the official log. All was as it hadbeen upon my previous visit, save that the picture which I havedescribed as having hung at the end of his bed had been cut out of itsframe, as with a knife, and was gone. With this last link in a strangechain of evidence I close my diary of the voyage of the _Polestar_.
* * * * *
Note by Dr. John M'Alister Ray, senior.--I have read over the strangeevents connected with the death of the Captain of the _Polestar_, asnarrated in the journal of my son. That everything occurred exactly ashe describes it I have the fullest confidence, and, indeed, the mostpositive certainty, for I know him to be a strong-nerved andunimaginative man, with the stri
ctest regard for veracity. Still, thestory is, on the face of it, so vague and so improbable, that I was longopposed to its publication. Within the last few days, however, I havehad independent testimony upon the subject which throws a new light uponit. I had run down to Edinburgh to attend a meeting of the BritishMedical Association, when I chanced to come across Dr. P.----, an oldcollege chum of mine, now practising at Saltash, in Devonshire. Upon mytelling him of this experience of my son's, he declared to me that hewas familiar with the man, and proceeded, to my no small surprise, togive me a description of him, which tallied remarkably well with thatgiven in the journal, except that he depicted him as a younger man.According to his account, he had been engaged to a young lady ofsingular beauty residing upon the Cornish coast. During his absence atsea his betrothed had died under circumstances of peculiar horror.
The Dealings of Captain Sharkey, and Other Tales of Pirates Page 8