was dreaming of home. All the home he knew, poor lad! He wasin the Castle of _Arrandoon_. Seeing, but all unseen, he stood in thecosy tartan parlour where he had spent so many happy hours. A brightfire was burning in the grate, the curtains were drawn, in hereasy-chair sat Allan's mother with her work on her lap, the greatdeerhound lay on the hearthrug asleep, and Helen Edith was bending overher harp. How boy Rory longed to rush forward and take her by the hand!But even in his partial sleep he knew this was but a dream, and hefeared to move lest he might break the sweet spell. But languor, pain,and cold, all were forgotten while the vision lasted.
But list! a horn seems to sound beyond the castle moat. Rory, in hisdream, wonders that Helen hears it not; then the boy starts to his feeton the snow. The vision has fled, and the sound of the horn resolvesitself into the shout,--
"Ahoy--oy--hoy! Ahoy! hoy!"
Every one is on his feet at the same time, though both Allan and Rorystagger and fall again. But, behold! a boat comes dancing down the laneof water towards them, and a minute after they are all safe on board.
The labour of getting that boat over the ice had been tremendous. Ithad been a labour of love, however, and the men had worked cheerily andboldly, and never flinched a moment, until it was safely launched in theopen water and our heroes were in it.
The _Arrandoon_, the men told them, had got up steam, and in a couple ofhours at most she would reach the water. Meanwhile they, by thecaptain's orders, were to land on the other side, and make themselves ascomfortable as possible until her arrival.
Rory and Allan were quite themselves again now, and so, too, was honestSeth,--
"Though, blame me," said he, "if I didn't think this old trapper's timehad come. Not that that'd matter a sight, but I did feel for youyoungsters, blame me if I didn't;" and he dashed his coat-sleeve rapidlyacross his face as he spoke.
And now a fire was built and coffee made, and Stevenson then opened theNorwegian chest--a wonderful contrivance, in which a dinner may be kepthot for four-and-twenty hours, and even partially cooked. Up arose thesavoury steam of a glorious Irish stew.
"How mindful of the captain?" said Allan.
"It was Ralph that sent the dinner," said Stevenson, "and he sent withit his compliments to Rory."
"Bless his old heart," cried Rory. "I don't think I'll ever chaff himagain about the gourmandising propensities of the Saxon race."
"And the doctor," continued the mate, "sent you some blankets, Mr Rory.There they are, sir; and he told me to give you this note, if I foundyou alive."
The note was in the Scottish dialect, and ran as follows:--
"_My conscience, Rory! some folks pay dear for their whustle. But keepup your heart, ma wee laddie. It's a vera judeecious arrangement_."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a few days more the _Arrandoon_ had made good her repairs, and as thewestern wind had freshened, and was blowing what would have been aten-knot breeze in the open sea, the steamer got up steam and thesailing-ship canvas, and together they took the loose ice, and madetheir way slowly to the eastward. The bergs, though some distanceasunder, were still sufficiently near to considerably impede their way,and, for fear of accident, the _Arrandoon_ took the cockle-shell, as shewas always called now, in tow.
For many days the ships went steadily eastward, which proved to them howextensive the pack had been. Sometimes they came upon large tracts ofopen water, many miles in extent, and across this they sailed merrilyand speedily enough, considering that neither of the vessels had as yetshipped her rudder. This they had determined not to do until they werewell clear of the very heavy ice, or until the swell went down. So theywere steered entirely by boats pulling ahead of them.
Open water at last, and the cockle-shell bids the big ships adieu,spreads her white sails to the breeze, and, swanlike, goes sailing awayfor the distant isle of Jan Mayen. Ay, and the big ships themselvesmust now very soon part company, the _Scotia_ to bear up for the greenshores of our native land, the _Arrandoon_ for regions as yet unknown.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
WORKING ALONG THE PACK EDGE--AMONG THE SEALS AGAIN--A BUMPER SHIP--ADVENTURES ON THE ICE--TED WILSON'S PROMOTION.
The _Arrandoon_ was steaming slowly along the pack edge, wind stillwesterly, the _Canny Scotia_, with all canvas exposed, a mile or more toleeward of her. Both were heading in the same direction, north and byeast, for McBain and our heroes had determined not to desert Silas untilhe really had what he called a voyage--in other words, a full ship.
"We can spare the time, you know," the captain had said to Ralph; "afortnight, will do it, and I dare say Rory here doesn't object to alittle more sport before going away to the far north."
"That I don't," Rory had replied.
"If we fall among the old seals, a fortnight will do it."
"Ay," Allan had said, "and won't old Silas be happy!"
"Yes," from McBain; "and, after all, to be able to give happiness toothers is certainly one of the greatest pleasures in this world."
Dear reader, just a word parenthetically. I am so sure that what McBainsaid is true, that I earnestly advise you to try the experimentsuggested by his words, for great is the reward, even in this world, ofthose who can conquer self and endeavour to bring joy to others.
The _Arrandoon_ steamed along the pack edge, but it must not be supposedthat this was a straight line, or anything like it. Indeed it was verymuch like any ordinary coastline, for here was a bay and yonder a cape,and yonder again, where the ice is heavier, a bold promontory. ButGreenlandmen call a bay a "bight," and a cape they call a "point-end."Let us adopt their nomenclature.
The _Canny Scotia_, then, avoided these point-ends; she kept well out tosea, well away from the pack, for there was not over-much wind, andSilas Grig had no wish to be beset again. But the _Arrandoon_, on theother hand, steamed, as I have said, in a straight line. She scorned todouble a point, but went steadily on her course, ploughing her waythrough the bergs. There was one advantage in this: she could the moreeasily discover the seals, for in the month of May these animals, havingdone their duty by their young, commence their return journey to thenorth, the polar regions being their home _par excellence_. They are inno hurry getting back, however. They like to enjoy themselves, andusually for every one day's progress they make, they lie two or three onthe ice. The capes, or point-ends, are favourite positions with them,and on the bergs they may be seen lying in scores, nor if the sun beshining with any degree of strength are they at all easily disturbed.It is their summer, and they try to make the best of it. Hark now tothat shout from the crow's-nest of the _Arrandoon_.
"A large patch of seals in sight, sir."
Our heroes pause in their walk, and gaze upwards; from the deck nothingis visible to windward save the great ice-pack.
"Where away?" cries Stevenson.
"On the weather bow, sir, and a good mile in through the pack."
"What do you think, sir?" says Stevenson, addressing his commander."Shall we risk taking the ice again?"
"Risk, Stevenson?" is the reply. "Why, man, yes; we'll risk anything todo old Silas a good turn. We'll risk more yet, mate, before the ship'shead is turned homewards."
Then the ship is stopped, and signals are made to Silas, who instantlychanges his course, and, after a vast deal of tacking and half-tacking,bears down upon them, and being nearly alongside, gets his main-yardaback, and presently lowers a boat and comes on board the _Arrandoon_.
Our heroes crowd around him.
"Why," they say, "you are a perfect stranger; it is a whole week sincewe've seen you."
"Ay," says Silas, "and a whole week without seeing a seal--isn't itastonishing?"
"Ah! but they're in sight now," says McBain. "I'm going to take theice, and I'll tow you in, and if you're not a bumper ship before a week,then this isn't the _Arrandoon_, that's all."
Silas is all smiles; he rubs his hands, and finally laughs outright,then he claps
his hand on his leg, and,--
"I was sure of it," says Silas, "soon as ever I saw your signal.`Matie,' says I, `yonder is a signal from the _Arrandoon_. I'm wantedon board; seals is in sight, ye maybe sure. Matie,' says I, `luck'sturned again;' and with that I gives him such a dig in the ribs that henearly jumped out of the nest."
"Make the signal to the _Scotia_, Stevenson," says McBain, "to clew up,and to get all ready for being taken in tow. Come below, Captain Grig,lunch is on the table."
Fairly seated at the table, honest Silas rubbed his hands again andlooked with a delighted smile at each of his friends in turn. There wasa bluff heartiness about this old
Wild Adventures round the Pole Page 45
