by G. A. Henty
On the next day they talked the matter over once more. The captain was a widower with one child, a girl of fifteen. The girl, whose name was Viola, said she would like to go up the coast to new lands. But she would like Mrs. Cromwell, or some other lady, to go along.
Persuaded by Bob, Mrs. Cromwell said she would undertake the trip, and before they knew it, all arrangements were made.
The Dart, as the yacht was named, was sent to San Francisco for stores, and three days later Bob and Mrs. Cromwell and Jack Larmore left Sea Cove, and left it forever!
It is not the purpose of this tale to tell of all that happened ere theDart put to sea on that memorable voyage up the coast to Alaska.
For awhile all went well on board. But one day there was trouble among the crew. The trouble grew worse and three of the fellows had to be put into irons.
They were let go later on, but ever after they showed their ugliness only too plainly.
Bob and Jack were not idle while on board. Both did their full share of work and both proved themselves good sailors.
A strong friendship sprang up between Mrs. Cromwell and Viola Sumner, and the two became almost inseparable.
Bob found Captain Sumner a fine man to get along with, stern at times, but always fair and square. He had, as he said, been a great rover, and often told interesting stories of his adventures.
As days went by and they got further north it became colder. Then a storm was encountered which took them many miles out of their course.
So suddenly did it fall upon them that the sails were blown to ribbons.
Viola Sumner, who was on deck, got drenched and nearly drowned. She was saved by Bob only at peril of his life, and carried down into the cabin nearly senseless.
And now we find the Dart storm-beaten, but still water-tight, blown far out to sea.
Bob, who had just come on deck, cast his eye first aloft, like the true sailor he was becoming, and then around him.
Not more than half a mile distant towered an immense iceberg, its topmost pinnacles glowing in the bright morning sun.
Other bergs floated to the southward, while to both east and west could be seen long floes of rugged ice.
The yacht was trying to beat to the northward by making short tacks through the ice-floes, but, as Bob could see, she made but little way.
“Have we done any good since I went below?” he asked Bok, a sailor who was steering.
“No, faith, yer honor. The current sets so fast to the south that sorra a bit more north do we make in an hour than I could throw a cat by her tail. It’s wearisome work, yer honor, and, be jabers! it’s bitterly cold.”
Bob buttoned his pilot coat closer around him and shivered.
“You are right, Bok.”
“Hullo, Bob!”
Our hero looked around and perceived Jack Larmore’s head above the companion.
“Come down to breakfast, before it’s cold,” cried Jack.
Our hero made a bolt down the ladder after his friend.
“What is your opinion, Bob, about the men?” asked Captain Sumner, as Bob took his place at the table. “I mean the rascals I had to iron up last week.”
“Well, sir,” replied our hero, “they seem to go about their duty all right, but after our experience, we must never trust them.”
“It’s that scoundrel, Nockey, that I mistrust. The others are more fools than knaves. He will never forgive that flogging I gave him.”
“It served him all right,” broke in Bob. “When we gave them the choice of taking a couple of dozen or going ashore, not one hesitated.”
“Well, even now, we have only eight hands and ourselves.”
“What do you mean to do, papa?” broke in Viola. “Surely not go further among these dreadful icebergs? I have read that ships are often crushed by them.”
“I should be only too glad to be out of these regions, dear; but, with the wind and current against us, I don’t know what to do.”
As soon as breakfast was finished the captain went on deck. His eye rested on the floe to the westward.
“Where are your eyes, you Irish lubber?” he shouted to the steersman. “Don’t you see yon ice closing in on us? You ought to have let me know of this.”
“Blest if I can see much change,” muttered Bok.
“But I can. The channel is narrowed by half. We shall never get clear of it before we are nipped. ’Bout ship, boys, and be smart!”
“All hands!” bellowed the mate.
In a couple of minutes the small crew were on deck, hauling in the ropes and halyards.
The topsail-yards swung round, the helm was put hard down.
The sails shivered in the wind as the yacht came about.
“Put both the main- and fore-sails on her, Leeks. We must be out of this trap as soon as possible,” cried the captain.
It took some time to get full sail on the Dart.
Once done, however, she flew onward, with the wind on her quarter, at a tremendous speed.
“Sixteen knots an hour! Bravo!” cried the captain. “Can’t she move, Bob?”
“That she can, sir. But I can’t help dreading this still going through the ice. There are few ships, except whalers, that have penetrated as far as we, I should think.”
“Right, sir. But desperate circumstances require desperate means. None of us want to spend a winter here, and, though we happen to be fortunate as to the time of year, another month or six weeks will see this sea covered with ice.”
CHAPTER III
Among the Icebergs
Bang! crash!
At that instant a shock nearly threw them off their feet.
Viola caught Bob’s arm, and Mrs. Cromwell and the captain almost fell together.
“We are foul of the ice!” shouted the mate, rushing forward.
“What!” roared the captain. “Where’s that rascally lookout? Down with helm! The sea is full of loose ice.”
For the rest of the day the Dart was dodging through hummocks of ice, which looked as if a floe had been broken up by a storm.
When Bob came on deck for his watch at midnight, it was intensely dark.
A thin scud shut out the light of the stars and moon.
He was joined by Jack, for the two lads usually kept watch together.
“I am afraid we are in a tight fix,” said the latter. “I doubt if we shall ever again find our way home.”
“Never say die,” cried our hero. “But look! What’s that yonder?”
The two chums peered into the darkness ahead.
“I think there is a blacker spot than the rest over the starboard bow,” said Bob, after a while.
“There are some blue signal-lights here. I’ll ignite one,” suggested Jack.
Retiring under shelter of the companionway he struck a light and ignited the blue fire.
Clambering on to the bulwarks, and holding on to the forestay with one hand, he held it above his head.
Right in front of them loomed two bergs, not a quarter of a mile apart, the sea dashing in spray along their sides.
There was not a moment for hesitation.
“Port your helm!” sang out our hero. “Keep her so!” he added, as he saw the bows of the schooner point for the narrow passage.
Jack lit another blue light, and thumped on the deck to wake those below.
In half a minute Captain Sumner and the mate were beside them.
“The bergs are closing in on us,” said the captain quietly. “Go to your helm, Bok; it will be safer.”
The bergs were more than a mile long, and the vessel, under easy sail, was not making more than six knots an hour.
“Here, gentlemen, take the halyards, and rouse up the topgallant sails. I won’t trust the crew on deck till the last minute.”
With the assistance of the man Bob had relieved at the wheel, they soon had the topgallant sails, which had been furled, chock-a-block.
“It will be a narrow squeak,” muttered the captain, as he glanced at the iceb
ergs, whose tops seemed quite close, though the bases were yet some distance from the schooner.
“Is there any hope?” whispered a soft voice in our hero’s ear.
“I trust so, Miss Viola,” he answered. “See! yonder is the end of the ice mountain on the starboard bow.”
“But how close they are!”
“They look closer than they are in reality,” he replied.
All the time he was wondering if their end had really come.
Suppose the wind were to fail!
Fortunately for them, however, caught between the two bergs, it rather increased in force than diminished.
The icy tops seemed now ready to topple down on the deck.
The waves, running up the sides of the bergs, lifted the vessel on their swell as they rebounded.
Fifty yards on either side towered the glittering mountains.
Thirty yards, twenty yards! and the salt spray of the billows, which dashed on the icy cliffs, fell on deck.
Viola’s hand was clasped in Bob’s, and our hero felt some relief in facing death with her and his mother.
“Call your comrades,” cried Captain Sumner to the sailor. “Give them a chance for life. Come, Mrs. Cromwell, Viola, Bob, Jack—all of you. Prepare to jump for the ice, when we strike! It’s our only hope!”
CHAPTER IV
The Escape From the Icebergs
To Captain Sumner it looked as if the Dart would surely be crushed.
“Be prepared to jump!” he sang out again.
But even as he spoke a strong gust filled the yacht’s topsails.
She plunged forward.
The starboard berg was left behind, and the sea on that bow was open.
Bok instantly shifted the helm.
The Dart’s head fell away from the danger on the port bow.
A few minutes passed.
Then, with a crash as if an earthquake had riven a mountain chain, the two bergs met.
Our hero, who, with the others, was watching with breathless interest, saw them rebound.
Huge blocks and pinnacles of ice, thousands of tons in weight, fell into the gap between them.
Before these could rise to the surface the ice mountains had again collided.
A crunching, rending sound struck the ears of our friends, as the two monsters ground their sides against one another.
The rugged summits fell into the sea, and formed smaller bergs.
The yacht was lifted on to the top of the giant waves caused by the concussion, then sank into the hollow, only to be caught up again by the still higher swell.
But the danger was over!
After escaping so narrowly being crushed the Dart found the sea free from ice, and made good way to the southward.
However, about eight bells on the following day, a gale sprang up from the northeast, which drove down the eastern floe in dangerous proximity.
The waves rose, and sheets of spray flew ever the fast-driven schooner.
It was so cold that, in spite of all the warm clothing they could find on board, all hands felt numbed.
“Land ahead!” was an appalling cry which rang out suddenly.
Captain Sumner himself hurried forward.
A rough, rocky island, the waves dashing in foam against its low cliffs, was discerned through the flying spray.
Already the edge of the eastern floe was crushing itself to pieces against the projecting reefs.
On the right, or western side, was a lane of broken water.
To venture into it was very dangerous, but seemed their only chance.
Bok and another sailor were at the wheel.
Over it went, strained down by their united strength, and the Dartdashed through the breaking water.
The western side of the island was about a mile long.
Twice, by porting the helm, the little vessel escaped clear of rocks, over which the water spurted.
As she approached the southern end of the isle, Bok, who had been sent into the foretop, shouted that again there was land ahead, and that the passage between was full of ice.
The captain ascended the shrouds himself, halfway to the top.
“It’s like a cauldron,” he exclaimed on descending. “No ship, except perhaps a very powerful steam whaler, could live in it.
“There is only one chance for us,” he continued. “We must get under shelter of this island.”
As the south coast line opened, the helm was put down, and the vessel was hove to under a high cliff and jutting cape, which protected her from the rush of the ice-laden current.
Both anchors were at once let go.
Fortunately they found good holding ground.
All the rest of that day, and till dawn the next, did the gale rage; but as the short night passed, the wind sank, and by midday it was but a breeze.
The current running between the islands soon swept the ice away.
But before trusting himself in these strange waters the captain determined to send a boat across to the greater island, on which rose a rugged hill of considerable height.
Both Mrs. Cromwell and Viola begged for a run on shore, so the larger boat was manned by Bok and three seamen, Bob and Jack each taking an oar, while the captain and the women occupied the stern-sheets.
CHAPTER V
The Arctic Island
Once on the island, it was seen that the hill rose on its southernmost point.
The ground was rocky, and covered with deep patches of snow in sheltered places.
“I don’t like the look of that,” observed the captain. “That is this year’s snow. Once the frost sets in we are done.”
Finding it hard work to traverse the direct route, they made for the western shore.
Here, though they had to clamber over hillocks and steep rocks, they got along quicker.
Suddenly Bok, who was in front, uttered a shout.
On the others hastening up they saw the cause of his astonishment.
Beached in a little bay, with her topmasts gone and the hulk lying over on the port side, was a brig.
The water only washed her rudder-case, and the captain noticed, to his dismay, a thin coating of ice fringing the shore of the inlet.
Not a sign of life was to be seen.
“We must examine her before we do anything else,” exclaimed Bob.
Captain Sumner looked at his watch.
“We can spare an hour,” he said, “but not more.”
There was a rush down the steep rocks on to the sand.
Arriving alongside, for some time they could find no means of climbing on board, till our hero found a rope hanging from the port-bow, which, on being pulled, seemed strong and firm.
As soon as he, the captain, Bok, and one of the men were on deck, which sloped acutely, Bob called to the ladies to say that he would fetch a chair, or something to serve as one, and hoist them up.
To their surprise the companionway was not blocked with ice and the doorway was shut.
It opened easily, and our hero was the first to descend.
An extraordinary scene presented itself to his eyes directly they got accustomed to the gloom.
Seated at a table, some upright, others with their heads sunk in their folded arms, which rested on the table, were the shrunken bodies of a dozen or more men.
So life-like were they that not until he had summoned up courage to touch one did Bob believe them dead.
Some empty bottles, and a cup or two, stood on the table.
They might have dropped to sleep after a carouse.
If they had it was the sleep of death.
Remembering his promise, Bob looked around for a chair.
Not seeing one unoccupied, he was obliged to lift up one of the bodies and lay it on a locker.
Within another locker was found a length of stout rope, which seemed uninjured, and, accompanied by Bok, he repaired on deck and hastened to the side.
The chair was soon rigged, and Mrs. Cromwell and Viola were hauled on board.
Opening a door at the bulkhead, Captain Sumner, closely followed by the two lads and the others, stepped into a narrow passage, which had berths on each side.
Passing through a second door they came into a square room, in which was built a clay and stone fireplace.
The captain stopped short.
A fire smoldered on the hearth.
“Hullo!” cried the captain. “Someone still lives!”
“Yonder lies the body of a man!” exclaimed Viola, who had crept to Bob’s side and taken his arm between her hands.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “We must be glad that we have arrived in time, if indeed we have.”
The captain and Bob advanced to the prostrate man’s side.
He was lying on a rug of seals’ skins, with another pulled over him, under which was a blanket.
“He lives!” cried the captain, placing his hand over the heart of the unconscious man.
After a minute a faint color mantled his white cheek and he heaved a long sigh.
Presently the eyelids trembled, and a moment later he opened them.
They rested on the captain, who was stooping over him.
A look of surprise came into them, but they almost immediately closed again.
A dose of hot brandy was given.
This time he recovered considerably, and looked round him inquiringly.
“You will do now, my man,” cried the captain encouragingly. “Try him with the food,” he added.
Mrs. Cromwell brought the roughly minced meat and soddened bread and placed a spoonful in the sufferer’s mouth.
He swallowed it eagerly.
After he had taken some half-dozen spoonfuls he turned his head on the pillow and fell asleep.
“He will be all right now,” whispered the captain. “But someone must stay with him while we ransack the ship.”
A second door led forward, and, leaving the watchers, the rest of the party passed through it.
Forward was found a number of great casks, such as are used to receive the blubber cut from the whale.
“She is a whaler, evidently,” exclaimed the captain.
In the forecastle there was nothing except some hammocks and a chest or two.
“We can get warmer clothing than what we possess, anyhow,” remarked the captain. “Now, what’s the best thing to do?”