The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER THIRTY.

  LEO IN DANGER NEXT! A NOVEL MODE OF RESCUE.

  When the catastrophe described in the last chapter occurred, CaptainVane and his friends, following hard on the heels of the runaway,chanced to be within two miles of the berg in the bosom of which Benjyhad found refuge.

  "There he is!" shouted the Captain joyfully, as the flash of theexplosion reached his eyes and the roar of the report his ears."Blessed evidence! He's up to mischief of some sort still, and that'sproof positive that he's alive."

  "But he may have perished in this piece of mischief," said Alf,anxiously glancing up at the kite, which was dragging the heavily-ladensledge rather slowly over the rough ice.

  "I hope not, Alf. Shake the regulator, Butterface, and see that it'sclear."

  "All right, Massa. Steam's on de berry strongest what's possible."

  "Heave some o' the cargo overboard, Alf. We must make haste. Not themeat, lad, not the meat; everything else before that. So. Mind yourhelm, Chingatok; she'll steer wildish when lightened."

  Captain Vane was right. When Alf had tumbled some of the heavierportions of lading off the sledge, it burst away like a wild-horse letgo free, rendering it difficult at first for Chingatok to steady it. Ina few minutes, however, he had it again under control, and they soonreached the berg.

  "The dynamite must have gone off by accident," said the Captain to Alf,as they stumbled over masses of ice which the explosion had brought downfrom the roof of the cavern. "It's lucky it didn't happen in summer,else the berg might have been blown to atoms. Hallo! what's this? Bitsof a polar bear, I do believe--and--what! not Benjy!"

  It was indeed Benjy, flat on his back like a spread-eagle, and coveredwith blood and brains; but his appearance was the worst of his case,though it took a considerable time to convince his horrified friends ofthat fact.

  "I tell you I'm all right, father," said the poor boy, on recoveringfrom the state of insensibility into which his fall had thrown him.

  "But you're covered from head to foot with blood," exclaimed the anxiousfather, examining him all over, "though I can't find a cut of any sortabout you--only one or two bruises."

  "You'll find a bump on the top of my head, father, the size of acocoa-nut. That's what knocked the senses out o' me, but the blood andbrains belong to the bear. I lay no claim to them."

  "Where _is_ the bear?" asked Alf, looking round.

  "Where is he?" echoed Benjy, bursting into a wild laugh.

  "Oh! Massa Benjy, don't laugh," said Butterface solemnly; "you hab nonotion wot a awful look you got when you laugh wid sitch a bloody face."

  This made Benjy laugh more than ever. His mirth became catching, andthe negro's solemn visage relaxed into an irrepressible grin.

  "Oh, you japan-jawed porpoise!" cried Benjy, "you should have seen thatbear go off--with such a crack too! I only wish I'd been able to holdup for two seconds longer to see it properly, but my shelf went down,and I had to go along with it. Blown to bits! No--he was blown to athousand atoms! Count 'em if you can."

  Again Benjy burst into uproarious laughter.

  There was indeed some ground for the boy's way of putting the case. Thecolossal creature had been so terribly shattered by the dynamitecartridge, that there was scarcely a piece of him larger than a man'shand left to tell the tale.

  "Well, well," said the Captain, assisting his son to rise, "I'm thankfulit's no worse."

  "Worse, father! why, it _couldn't_ be worse, unless, indeed, his spiritwere brought alive again and allowed to contemplate the humblingcondition of his body."

  "I don't refer to the bear, Benjy, but to yourself, lad. You might havebeen killed, you know, and I'm very thankful you were not--though youhalf-deserve to be. But come, we must encamp here for the night andreturn home to-morrow, for the wind has been shifting a little, and willbe favourable, I think, in the morning."

  The wind was indeed favourable next morning, we may say almost toofavourable, for it blew a stiff breeze from the south, which steadilyincreased to a gale during the day. Afterwards the sky became overcastand the darkness intense, rendering it necessary to attend to the kite'sregulator with the utmost care, and advance with the greatest caution.

  Now, while the Captain and his friends were struggling back to theirPolar home, Leo Vandervell happened to be caught by the same gale whenout hunting. Being of a bold, sanguine, and somewhat recklessdisposition, this Nimrod of the party paid little attention to theweather until it became difficult to walk and next to impossible to see.Then, having shot nothing that day, he turned towards the Pole with afeeling of disappointment.

  But when the gale increased so that he could hardly face it, and the skybecame obliterated by falling and drifting snow, disappointment gaveplace to anxiety, and he soon realised the fact that he had lost hisdirection. To advance in such circumstances was out of the question, hetherefore set about building a miniature hut of snow. Being by thattime expert at such masonry, he soon erected a dome-shaped shelter, inwhich he sat down on his empty game-bag after closing the entrance witha block of hard snow.

  The position of our hunter was not enviable. The hut was barely highenough to let him sit up, and long enough to let him lie down--not tostretch out. The small allowance of pemmican with which he had set outhad long ago been consumed. It was so dark that he could not see hishand when close before his eyes. He was somewhat fatigued and rathercold, and had no water to drink. It was depressing to think of going tobed in such circumstances with the yelling of an Arctic storm for alullaby.

  However, Leo had a buoyant spirit, and resolved to "make the best ofit." First of all he groped in his game-bag for a small stove lamp,which he set up before him, and arranged blubber and a wick in it, usingthe sense of touch in default of sight. Then he struck a light, but notwith matches. The Englishmen's small stock of congreves had long sincebeen exhausted, and they were obliged to procure fire by the Eskimomethod, namely, a little piece of wood worked like a drill, with a thongof leather, against another piece of wood until the friction producedfire. When a light had been thus laboriously obtained, he applied it tothe wick of his lamp, and wished fervently for something to cook.

  It is proverbial that wishing does not usually achieve much. After adeep sigh, therefore, Leo turned his wallet inside out. Besides a fewcrumbs, it contained a small lump of narwhal blubber and a littlepacket. The former, in its frozen state, somewhat resembled hardbutter. The latter contained a little coffee--not the genuine article,however. That, like the matches, had long ago been used up, and ourdiscoverers were reduced to roasted biscuit-crumbs. The substitute wasnot bad! Inside of the coffee-packet was a smaller packet of brownsugar, but it had burst and allowed its contents to mingle with thecoffee.

  Rejoiced to find even a little food where he had thought there was none,Leo filled his pannikin with snow, melted it, emptied into it thecompound of coffee and sugar, put it on the lamp to boil, and sat downto watch, while he slowly consumed the narwhal butter, listening thewhile to the simmering of the pannikin and the roaring of the gale.

  After his meagre meal he wrapped himself in his blanket, and went tosleep.

  This was all very well as long as it lasted, but he cooled during thenight, and, on awaking in the morning, found that keen frost penetratedevery fibre of his garments and every pore of his skin. The storm,however, was over; the moon and stars were shining in a clear sky, andthe aurora was dancing merrily. Rising at once he bundled up his traps,threw the line of his small hand-sledge over his shoulder, and steppedout for home. But cold and want of food had been telling on him. Hesoon experienced an unwonted sense of fatigue, then a drowsy sensationcame over him.

  Leo was well aware of the danger of giving way to drowsiness in suchcircumstances, yet, strange to say, he was not in the least afraid ofbeing overcome. He would sit down to rest, just for two minutes, andthen push on. He smiled, as he sat down in the crevice of a hummock, tothink of the frequent and needless cautions which hi
s uncle had givenhim against this very thing. The smile was still on his lips when hishead drooped on a piece of ice, and he sank into a deep slumber.

  Ah, Leonard Vandervell! ill would it have been for thee if thou hadstbeen left to thyself that day; but sharp eyes and anxious hearts wereout on the icy waste in search of thee!

  On arriving at his winter quarters, and learning that Leo had not yetreturned, Captain Vane at once organised an elaborate search-expedition.The man who found him at last was Butterface.

  "Oh, Massa Leo!" exclaimed that sable creature on beholding the youthseated, white and cold, on the hummock; but he said no more, being fullyalive to the danger of the situation.

  Rushing at Leo, he seized and shook him violently, as if he had been hisbitterest foe. There was no response from the sleeping man. The negrotherefore began to chafe, shake, and kick him; even to slap his face,and yell into his ears in a way that an ignorant observer would havestyled brutal. At last there was a symptom of returning vitality in thepoor youth's frame, and the negro redoubled his efforts.

  "Ho! hallo! Massa Leo, wake up! You's dyin', you is!"

  "Why--what's--the--matter--Butterf--" muttered Leo, and dropped his headagain.

  "Hi! hello! ho-o-o!" yelled Butterface, renewing the rough treatment,and finally hitting the youth a sounding slap on the ear.

  "Ha! I be tink dat vakes you up."

  It certainly did wake him up. A burst of indignation within seemed todo more for him than the outward buffetings. He shut his fist and hitButterface a weak but well intended right-hander on the nose. The negroreplied with a sounding slap on the other ear, which induced Leo tograsp him in his arms and try to throw him. Butterface returned thegrasp with interest, and soon quite an interesting wrestling matchbegan, the only witness of which sat on a neighbouring hummock in theform of a melancholy Arctic fox.

  "Hi! hold on, Massa Leo! Don't kill me altogidder," shouted Butterface,as he fell beneath his adversary. "You's a'most right now."

  "Almost right! what do you mean?"

  "I mean dat you's bin a'most froze to deaf, but I's melted you down tolife agin."

  The truth at last began to dawn on the young hunter. After a briefexplanation, he and the negro walked home together in perfect harmony.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

  THE LAST.

  In course of time the long and dreary winter passed away, and signs ofthe coming spring began to manifest themselves to the dwellers in thePolar lands.

  Chief and most musical among these signs were the almost forgottensounds of dropping water, and tinkling rills. One day in April thethermometer suddenly rose to eighteen above the freezing-point ofFahrenheit. Captain Vane came from the observatory, his face blazingwith excitement and oily with heat, to announce the fact.

  "That accounts for it feeling so like summer," said Benjy.

  "Summer, boy, it's like India," returned the Captain, puffing andfanning himself with his cap. "We'll begin this very day to makearrangements for returning home."

  It was on the evening of that day that they heard the first droppings ofthe melting snow. Long before that, however, the sun had come back togladden the Polar regions, and break up the reign of ancient night. Hisdeparture in autumn had been so gradual, that it was difficult to saywhen night began to overcome the day. So, in like manner, his returnwas gradual. It was not until Captain Vane observed stars of the sixthmagnitude shining out at noon in November, that he had admitted thetotal absence of day; and when spring returned, it was not until hecould read the smallest print at midnight in June that he admitted therewas "no night there."

  But neither the continual day of summer, nor the perpetual night ofwinter, made so deep an impression on our explorers as the gushingadvent of spring. That season did not come gradually back like thelight, but rushed upon them suddenly with a warm embrace, like anenthusiastic friend after a long absence. It plunged, as it were, uponthe region, and overwhelmed it. Gushing waters thrilled the ears withthe sweetness of an old familiar song. Exhalations from the moistenedearth, and, soon after, the scent of awakening vegetation, filled thenostrils with delicious fragrance. In May, the willow-stems were greenand fresh with flowing sap. Flowers began to bud modestly, as if halfafraid of having come too soon. But there was no cause to fear that.The glorious sun was strong in his might, and, like his Maker, warmedthe northern world into exuberant life. Mosses, poppies, saxifrages,cochlearia, and other hardy plants began to sprout, and migratory birdsinnumerable--screaming terns, cackling duck, piping plover, auks indense clouds with loudly whirring wings, trumpeting geese, eider-ducks,burgomasters, etcetera, began to return with all the noisy bustle andjoyous excitement of a family on its annual visit to much-loved summerquarters.

  But here we must note a difference between the experience of ourexplorers and that of all others. These myriads of happy creatures--andmany others that we have not space to name--did not pass from the southonward to a still remoter north, but came up from all round thehorizon,--up all the meridians of longitude, as on so many railway linesconverging at the Pole, and settling down for a prolonged residence ingarrulous felicity among the swamps and hills and vales of Flatland.

  Truly it was a most enjoyable season and experience, but there is no joywithout its alley here below--not even at the North Pole!

  The alloy came in the form of a low fever which smote down the stalwartLeo, reduced his great strength seriously, and confined him for manyweeks to a couch in their little stone hut, and, of course, the power ofsympathy robbed his companions of much of that exuberant joy which theyshared with the lower animals at the advent of beautiful spring.

  During the period of his illness Leo's chief nurse, comforter, andphilosophical companion, was the giant of the North. And one of thesubjects which occupied their minds most frequently was the Word of God.In the days of weakness and suffering Leo took to that great source ofcomfort with thirsting avidity, and intense was his gratification at theeager desire expressed by the giant to hear and understand what itcontained.

  Of course Alf, and Benjy, and the Captain, and Butterface, as well asGrabantak, Makitok, and Amalatok, with others of the Eskimos, werefrequently by his side, but the giant never left him for more than abrief period, night or day.

  "Ah! Chingatok," said Leo one day, when the returning spring had begunto revive his strength, "I never felt such a love for God's Book when Iwas well and strong as I feel for it now that I am ill, and I littlethought that I should find out so much of its value while talking aboutit to an Eskimo. I shall be sorry to leave you, Chingatok--very sorry."

  "The young Kablunet is not yet going to die," said the giant in a softvoice.

  "I did not mean that," replied Leo, with the ghost of his former heartylaugh; "I mean that I shall be obliged to leave Flatland and to returnto my own home as soon as the season permits. Captain Vane has beentalking to me about it. He is anxious now to depart, yet sorry to leavehis kind and hospitable friends."

  "I, too, am sorry," returned Chingatok sadly. "No more shall I hearfrom your lips the sweet words of my Great Father--the story of Jesus.You will take your book away with you."

  "That is true, my friend; and it would be useless to leave my Bible withyou, as you could not read it, but the _truth_ will remain with you,Chingatok."

  "Yes," replied the giant with a significant smile, "you cannot take_that_ away. It is here--and here." He touched his forehead and breastas he spoke. Then he continued:--

  "These strange things that Alf has been trying to teach me during thelong nights I have learned--I understand."

  He referred here to a syllabic alphabet which Alf had invented, andwhich he had amused himself by teaching to some of the natives, so thatthey might write down and read those few words and messages in their owntongue which formerly they had been wont to convey to each other bymeans of signs and rude drawings--after the manner of most savages.

  "Well, what about that?" asked Leo, as his companion paused.

 
; "Could not my friend," replied Chingatok, "change some of the words ofhis book into the language of the Eskimo and mark them down?"

  Leo at once jumped at the idea. Afterwards he spoke to Alf about it,and the two set to work to translate some of the most important passagesof Scripture, and write them down in the syllable alphabet. For thispurpose they converted a sealskin into pretty fair parchment, and wrotewith the ink which Captain Vane had brought with him and carefullyhusbanded. The occupation proved a beneficial stimulus to the invalid,who soon recovered much of his wonted health, and even began again towander about with his old companion the repeating rifle.

  The last event of interest which occurred at the North Pole, before thedeparture of our explorers, was the marriage of Oolichuk with Oblooria.The ceremony was very simple. It consisted in the bridegroom dressingin his best and going to the tent of his father-in-law with a gift,which he laid at his feet. He then paid some endearing Eskimoattentions to his mother-in-law, one of which was to present her with araw duck, cleaned and dismembered for immediate consumption. He evenassisted that pleased lady immediately to consume the duck, and wound upby taking timid little Oblooria's hand and leading her away to a hut ofhis own, which he had specially built and decorated for the occasion.

  As Amalatok had arrived that very day on a visit from Poloeland with hisprime minister and several chiefs, and Grabantak was residing on thespot, with a number of chiefs from the surrounding islands, who had cometo behold the famous Kablunets, there was a sort of impromptu gatheringof the northern clans which lent appropriate dignity to the wedding.

  After the preliminary feast of the occasion was over, Captain Vane wasrequested to exhibit some of his wonderful powers for the benefit of astrange chief who had recently arrived from a distant island. Of courseour good-natured Captain complied.

  "Get out the boats and kites, Benjy, boy," he said; "we must go throughour performances to please 'em. I feel as if we were a regular companyof play-actors now."

  "Won't you give them a blow-up first, father?"

  "No, Benjy, no. Never put your best foot foremost. The proverb is afalse one--as many proverbs are. We will dynamite them afterwards, andelectrify them last of all. Go, look sharp."

  So the Captain first amazed the visitor with the kites and india-rubberboats; then he horrified him by blowing a small iceberg of somethousands of tons into millions of atoms; after which he convulsed himand made him "jump."

  The latter experiment was the one to which the enlightened Eskimoslooked forward with the most excited and hopeful anticipations, for itwas that which gratified best their feeling of mischievous joviality.

  When the sedate and dignified chief was led, all ignorant of his fate,to the mysterious mat, and stood thereon with grave demeanour, thesurrounding natives bent their knees, drew up elbows, expanded fingers,and glared in expectancy. When the dignified chief experienced a tremorof the frame and looked surprised, they grinned with satisfaction; whenhe quivered convulsively they also quivered with suppressed emotion.Ah! Benjy had learned by that time from experience to graduate verydelicately his shocking scale, and thus lead his victim step by stepfrom bad to worse, so as to squeeze the utmost amount of fun out of him,before inducing that galvanic war-dance which usually terminated thescene and threw his audience into fits of ecstatic laughter.

  These were the final rejoicings of the wedding day--if we except a dancein which every man did what seemed best in his own eyes, and Butterfaceplayed reels on the flute with admirable incapacity.

  But there came a day, at last, when the inhabitants of Flatland were farindeed removed from the spirit of merriment.

  It was the height of the Arctic summer-time, when the crashing of thegreat glaciers and the gleaming of the melting bergs told of rapiddissolution, and the sleepless sun was circling its day-and-nightlycourse in the ever-bright blue sky. The population of Flatland wasassembled on the beach of their native isle--the men with downcastlooks, the women with sad and tearful eyes. Two india-rubber boats wereon the shore. Two kites were flying overhead. The third boat and kitehad been damaged beyond repair, but the two left were sufficient. TheEnglishmen were about to depart, and the Eskimos were inconsolable.

  "My boat is on the shore,--"

  Said Benjy, quoting Byron, as he shook old Makitok by the hand--

  "And my kite is in the sky, But before I go, of more, I will--bid you--all--good-b--"

  Benjy broke down at this point. The feeble attempt to be facetious tothe last utterly failed.

  Turning abruptly on his heel he stepped into the _Faith_ and took hisseat in the stern. It was the _Hope_ which had been destroyed. The_Faith_ and _Charity_ still remained to them.

  We must draw a curtain over that parting scene. Never before in humanexperience had such a display of kindly feeling and profound regret beenwitnessed in similar circumstances.

  "Let go the tail-ropes!" said Captain Vane in a husky tone.

  "Let go de ropes," echoed Butterface in a broken voice.

  The ropes were let go. The kites soared, and the boats rushed swiftlyover the calm and glittering sea.

  On nearing one of the outer islands the voyagers knew that their tinyboats would soon be shut out from view, and they rose to wave a lastfarewell. The salute was returned by the Eskimos--with especial fervourby Chingatok, who stood high above his fellows on a promontory, andwaved the parchment roll of texts which he grasped in his huge righthand.

  Long after the boats had disappeared, the kites could still be seenamong the gorgeous clouds. Smaller and smaller they became in theirflight to the mysterious south, until at last they seemedundistinguishable specks on the horizon, and then vanished altogetherfrom view.

  One by one the Eskimos retired to their homes--slowly and sadly, as ifloath to part from the scene where the word farewell had been spoken.At last all were gone save Chingatok, who still stood for hours on thepromontory, pressing the scroll to his heaving chest, and gazingintently at the place on the horizon where his friends had disappeared.

  There was no night to bring his vigil or his meditations to a close, buttime wore him out at last. With a sigh, amounting almost to a groan, heturned and walked slowly away, and did not stop until he stood upon thePole, where he sat down on one of the Captain's stools, and gazedmournfully at the remains of the dismantled observatory. There he wasfound by old Makitok, and for some time the giant and the wizard heldconverse together.

  "I love these Kablunets," said Chingatok.

  "They are a strange race," returned the wizard. "They mingle much follywith their wisdom. They come here to find this Nort Pole, this nothing,and they find it. Then they go away and leave it! What good has itdone them?"

  "I know not," replied Chingatok humbly, "but I know not everything.They have showed me much. One thing they have showed me--that behindall _things_ there is something else which I do not see. The Kablunetsare wonderful men. Yet I pity them. As Blackbeard has said, some ofthem are too fond of killing themselves, and some are too fond ofkilling each other. I wish they would come here--the whole nation ofthem--and learn how to live in peace and be happy among the Eskimos.But they will not come. Only a few of their best men venture to come,and I should not wonder if their countrymen refused to believe the halfof what they tell them when they get home."

  Old Makitok made no reply. He was puzzled, and when puzzled he usuallyretired to his hut and went to bed. Doing so on the present occasion heleft his companion alone.

  "Poor, poor Kablunets," murmured Chingatok, descending from hisposition, and wandering away towards the outskirts of the village. "Youare very clever, but you are somewhat foolish. I pity you, but I alsolove you well."

  With his grand head down, his arms crossed, and the scroll of textspressed to his broad bosom, the Giant of the North wandered away, andfinally disappeared among the flowering and rocky uplands of theinterior.

  THE END.

 
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