Red Rooney: The Last of the Crew

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  THE CHASE CONTINUED AND DISASTROUSLY INTERRUPTED.

  The day following that on which the wives of Simek and Okiok, and themothers of Arbalik and Ippegoo with the spinster Sigokow arrived, thesouthern Eskimos resumed their route northward, and the pursuerscontinued their journey to the south--the former in their sledges overthe still unmelted ice-foot along the shore; the latter, in kayaks, by alead of open water, which extended as far as the eye could reach.

  Angut, Okiok, and Simek led the way in kayaks, the kayak damaged by theseal having been repaired. The other men were forced to embark in thewomen's boat. Eskimo men deem this an undignified position, and willnot usually condescend to work in oomiaks, which are invariably paddledby the women, but Rooney, being influenced by no such feelings, quietlytook the steering paddle, and ultimately shamed Arbalik and Ippegoo aswell as the sons of Okiok into lending a hand.

  During the first part of the voyage all went well, but next day the leadof open water was found to trend off the land, and run out into thepack, where numerous great glaciers were seen--some aground, otherssurging slowly southward with the Polar current.

  "I don't like the look of it," remarked Angut, when the other leaders ofthe party ranged alongside of him for a brief consultation.

  "Neither do I," said Simek. "The season is far advanced, and if thereshould be a general break-up of the ice while we are out among thefloes, we should be lost."

  "But it is impossible for us to travel by land," said Okiok. "No manknows the land here. The sea runs so far in that we might spend manymoons in going round the bays without advancing far on our journey."

  "So there is nothing left for us but to go on by water," said Angut,with decision. "Nunaga must be rescued."

  "And so must Tumbler," said Okiok.

  "And so must Pussi," said Simek.

  "What are you fellows consulting about?" shouted Red Rooney, coming upat that moment with the others in the oomiak.

  "We are talking of the danger of the ice breaking up," answered Angut."But there is no other way to travel than by the open lead, so we havedecided to go on."

  "Of course you have," returned Rooney; "what else can we do? We _must_risk something to save Nunaga, Pussi, and Tumbler, to say nothing ofKabelaw. Get along, my hearties!"

  How Rooney translated the last phrase into Eskimo is a point on which wecan throw no light,--but no matter.

  In a short time the party reached the neighbourhood of one of thelargest bergs, one of those gigantic masses of ice which resemblemoderately-sized mountains, the peaks of which rose several hundred feetabove the sea-level, while its base was more than a mile in diameter.There were little valleys extending into its interior, through whichflowed rivulets, whose winding courses were broken here and there bycascades. In short, the berg resembled a veritable island made of whitesugar, the glittering sun-lit slopes of which contrasted finely with itsgreen-grey shadows and the dark-blue depths of its wide rifts andprofound caverns.

  The lead or lane of water ran to within fifty yards of this ice-island,so that Rooney had a splendid view of it, and, being of a romantic turnof mind, amused himself as the oomiak glided past by peopling the whitecliffs and valleys with snow-white inhabitants. While he was thusemployed, there occurred a sudden crashing and rending in thesurrounding pack which filled him with consternation. It producedindeed the same effect on the Eskimos, as well it might, for the verycatastrophe which they all dreaded was now taking place.

  A slight swell on the sea appeared to be the originating cause, but,whatever it was, the whole surface was soon broken up, and thedisintegrated masses began to grind against each other in confusion. Atthe same time the lead which the voyagers had been following grewnarrower, and that so rapidly, that they had barely time to jump upon amass of ice when the opening closed and crushed the oomiak and Okiok'skayak to pieces.

  Angut and Simek had time to lift their kayaks on to the ice, but that,as it turned out, was of no advantage.

  "Make for the berg," shouted Angut to the women, at the same timeseizing the hand of Kunelik, who chanced to be nearest to him, andassisting her to leap from one heaving mass to another. Rooneyperformed the same act of gallantry for old Kannoa, who, to hissurprise, went over the ice like an antique squirrel. Okiok took hisown wife in hand. As for Pussimek, she did not wait for assistance, butbeing of a lively and active, as well as a stout and cheery disposition,she set off at a pace which caused her tail to fly straight out behindher, and made it difficult for Simek to keep up with her. Ippegoo andArbalik, with the sons of Okiok, tried their best to save the twokayaks, for well they knew the danger of being left on the ice withoutthe means of escaping; but the suddenness of the disruption, the widthof the various channels they had to leap, and the instability of themasses, compelled them, after much delay, to drop their burdens and savethemselves. They only managed to reach the berg with extremedifficulty.

  "Thank God, all safe!--but we have had a close shave," exclaimed Rooney,as he held out his hand to assist Ippegoo, who was the last of the partyto clamber up the rugged side of the berg from the broken floe-pieceswhich were grinding against it.

  "I wish we could say with truth `All safe,'" was Okiok's gloomyresponse, as he surveyed the ice-laden sea; "we have escaped beingcrushed or drowned, but only to be starved to death."

  "A living man may hope," returned Angut gravely.

  "Ay, and where there is life," added Rooney, "there ought to bethankfulness."

  "I would be more thankful," said Ippegoo, with a woe-begone expression,"if we had saved even a spear; but what can we do without food orweapons?"

  "Do? my son," said Kunelik; "can we not at least keep up heart? Whoever heard of any good coming of groaning and looking miserable?"

  "Right you are, old girl," cried Rooney, giving the mother of Ippegoo ahearty pat on the shoulder. "There is no use in despairing at the verybeginning of our troubles; besides, is there not the Great Spirit whotakes care of us, although we cannot see or hear Him? I believe in God,my friends, and I'll ask Him to help us now."

  So saying, to the surprise of the Eskimos, the seaman uncovered hishead, and looking upwards, uttered a few words of earnest prayer in thename of Jesus.

  At first the unsophisticated natives looked about as if they expectedsome visible and immediate answer to the petition, but Rooney explainedthat the Great Spirit did not always answer at once or in the way thatman might expect.

  "God works by means of us and through us," he said. "We have committedthe care of ourselves to Him. What we have now to do is to go to work,and do the best we can, and see what things He will throw in our way, orenable us to do, in answer to our prayer. Now, the first thing thatoccurs to me is to get away from where we stand, because thatoverhanging cliff beside us may fall at any moment and crush us. Next,we should go and search out some safe cavern in which we may spend thenight, for we sha'n't be able to find such a place easily in the dark,and though it will be but a cold shelter, still, cold shelter is betterthan none--so come along."

  These remarks of the sailor, though so familiar--perhaps commonplace--tous, seemed so just and full of wisdom to the unsophisticated natives,and were uttered in such an off-hand cheery tone, that a powerful effectwas created, and the whole party at once followed the seaman, who, bythis display of coolness, firmness, and trustfulness in a higher power,established a complete ascendancy over his friends. From that time theyregarded him as their leader, even although in regard to the details ofEskimo life he was of course immeasurably their inferior.

  They soon found a small cave, not far from the spot where they hadlanded--if we may use that expression--and there made preparation tospend the night, which by that time was drawing on.

  Although their craft had been thus suddenly destroyed and lost, theywere not left absolutely destitute, for each one, with that promptmental activity which is usually found in people whose lives are passedin the midst of danger, had seized the bear-skin, deerskin, or fu
r bagon which he or she happened to be sitting, and had flung it on to thefloes before leaping thereon; and Ippegoo, with that regard for internalsustenance which was one of his chief characteristics, had grasped ahuge lump of seal's flesh, and carried it along with him. Thus thewhole party possessed bedding, and food for at least one meal.

  Of course the meal was eaten not only cold but raw. In thecircumstances, however, they were only too thankful, to care much aboutthe style of it. Before it was finished daylight fled, the stars cameout, and the aurora borealis was shooting brilliantly athwart the sky.Gradually the various members of the party spread their skins on themost level spot discoverable, and, with lumps of ice covered with bitsof hide for pillows, went to sleep with what resembled free-and-easyindifference.

  Two of the party, however, could not thus easily drop into happyoblivion. Red Rooney felt ill at ease. His knowledge of those Arcticseas had taught him that their position was most critical, and thatescape would be almost miraculous, for they were eight or ten miles atleast off the land, on a perishable iceberg, with an ice-encumbered seaaround, and no means of going afloat, even if the water had been free.A feeling of gloom which he had not felt before, and which he could notbanish, rendered sleep impossible; he therefore rose, and sauntered outof the cave.

  Outside he found Angut, standing motionless near the edge of anice-cliff, gazing up into the glorious constellations overhead.

  "I can't sleep, Angut," said the seaman; "I suppose you are much in thesame way?"

  "I do not know. I did not try," returned the Eskimo in a low voice; "Iwish to think, not to sleep. Why cannot the Kablunet sleep?"

  "Well, it's hard to tell. I suppose thinking too much has something todo with it. The fact is, Angut, that we've got into what I call a fix,and I can't for the life of me see how we are to get out of it. IndeedI greatly fear that we shall never get out of it."

  "If the Great Spirit wills that our end should be _now_," said Angut,"is the Kablunet afraid to die?"

  The question puzzled Rooney not a little.

  "Well," he replied, "I can't say that I'm afraid, but--but--I don'texactly _want_ to die just yet, you see. The fact is, my friend, thatI've got a wife and children and a dear old grandmother at home, and Idon't quite relish the idea of never seein' them again."

  "Have you not told me," said Angut, with a look of solemn surprise,"that all who love the Great Spirit shall meet again up there?" Hepointed to the sky as he spoke.

  "Ay, truly, I said that, and I believe that. But a man sometimes wantsto see his wife and children again in _this_ life--and, to my thinkin',that's not likely with me, as things go at present. Have _you_ muchhope that we shall escape?"

  "Yes, I have hope," answered the Eskimo, with a touch of enthusiasm inhis tone. "I know not why. I know not how. Perhaps the Great Spiritwho made me put it into me. I cannot tell. All around and within me isbeyond my understanding--but--the Great Spirit is all-wise,all-powerful, and--good. Did you not say so?"

  "Yes, I said so; and that's a trustworthy foundation, anyhow," returnedthe sailor meditatively; "wise, powerful, and good--a safe anchorage.But now, tell me, what chances, think you, have we of deliverance?"

  "I can think of only one," said Angut. "If the pack sets fast again, wemay walk over it to the land. Once there, we could manage to live--though not to continue our pursuit of Ujarak. _That_ is at an end."

  In spite of himself, the poor fellow said the last words in a tone whichshowed how deeply he was affected by the destruction of his hope torescue Nunaga.

  "Now my friend seems to me inconsistent," said Rooney. "He trusts theGreat Spirit for deliverance from danger. Is, then, the rescue ofNunaga too hard for Him?"

  "I know not," returned Angut, who was, how ever, cheered a little by hisfriend's tone and manner. "Everything is mystery. I look up, I lookaround, I look within; all is dark, mysterious. Only on this is my mindclear--the Great Spirit is good. He cannot be otherwise. I will trustHim. One day, perhaps, He will explain all. What I understood not as alittle boy, I understand now as a man. Why should there not be morelight when I am an older man? If things go on in the mind as they havebeen going ever since I can remember, perfect light may perhaps come atlast."

  "You don't think like most of your countrymen," said Rooney, regardingthe grave earnest face of his friend with increased interest.

  There was a touch of sadness in the tone of the Eskimo as he replied--

  "No; I sometimes wonder--for their minds seem to remain in the childishcondition; though Okiok and Simek do seem at times as if they werestruggling into more light. I often wonder that they think so little,and think so foolishly; but I do not speak much about it; it only makesthem fear that I am growing mad."

  "I have never asked you, Angut--do your tribes in the north here holdthe same wild notions about the earth and heavens as the southernEskimos do?"

  "I believe they do," replied Angut; "but I know not all they think inthe south. In this land they think,"--here a smile of good-natured pityflickered for a moment on the man's face--"that the earth rests onpillars, which are now mouldering away by age, so that they frequentlycrack. These pillars would have fallen long ago if they had not beenkept in repair by the angekoks, who try to prove the truth of what theysay by bringing home bits of them--rotten pieces of wood. And thestrange thing is, that the people believe them!"

  "Why don't you believe them, Angut?"

  "I know not why."

  "And what do your kinsmen think about heaven?" asked Rooney.

  "They think it is supported on the peak of a lofty mountain in thenorth, on which it revolves. The stars are supposed to be ancientGreenlanders, or animals which have managed in some mysterious way tomount up there, and who shine with varied brightness, according to thenature of their food. The streaming lights of winter are the souls ofthe dead dancing and playing ball in the sky."

  "These are strange ideas," observed Rooney; "what have you to say aboutthem?"

  "I think they are childish thoughts," replied the Eskimo.

  "What, then, are your thoughts about these stars and streaming lights?"persisted the seaman, who was anxious to understand more of the mind ofhis philosophical companion.

  "I know not what I think. When I try to think on these things my mindgets confused. Only this am I sure of--that they are, they must be, thewonderful works of the Good Spirit."

  "But how do you know that?" asked Rooney.

  Angut looked at his questioner very earnestly for a few moments.

  "How does Ridroonee know that he is alive?" he asked abruptly.

  "Oh, as to that, you know, everything tells me that I am alive. I lookaround, and I see. I listen, and I hear. I think, and I understand--leastwise to some extent,--and I _feel_ in mind and heart."

  "Now will I answer," said Angut. "Everything tells me that the GreatSpirit is good, and the Maker of all things. I look, and I see Him inthe things that exist. I listen, and I hear Him in the whispering wind,in the running water, in the voice of man and beast. I think, and Iunderstand Him to some extent, and I _feel_ Him both in mind and heart."

  "I believe you are right, Angut, and your words bring strongly to myremembrance many of the words of the Great Spirit that my mother used toteach me when I was a little boy."

  From this point in the conversation Angut became the questioner, beinganxious to know all that the Kablunet had to tell about the mysteriousBook, of which he had spoken to him more than once, and the teachings ofhis mother.

  It was long past midnight when the descending moon warned them to turntheir steps towards the ice-cave where they had left their slumberingcompanions.

  "The frost is sharp to-night," remarked Rooney as they were about toenter.

  Angut turned round, and cast a parting glance on sea and sky.

  "If it holds on like this," continued the sailor, "the ice will be firmenough to carry us to land in the morning."

  "It will not hold on like this," said Angut. "The
Innuit are veryignorant, but they know many things about the weather, for they arealways watching it. To-morrow will be warm. We cannot escape. It willbe safest and wisest to remain where we are."

  "Remaining means starving," said the sailor in a desponding tone.

  "It may be so; we cannot tell," returned the Eskimo.

  With these uncomfortable reflections, the two men entered the cavernquietly, so as not to disturb their comrades. Spreading their bearskinson the ice-floor, they laid heads on ice-pillows, and soon fell intothat dreamless, restful slumber which is the usual accompaniment ofyouth, health, and vigour.