Adrift in the Ice-Fields Part 19

"Now no strike hard--strike quick and heasy, right that place every time;" and taking the glowing iron from the fire, he laid it on the light anvil.

It was wonderful to see how, like one who uses a trip-hammer, he drew the iron under the rapidly-plied axe, until the round spike was a narrow, thin blade about six inches in length. Then shifting the angle of the iron a little, he directed Regnar how to beat down one side to an edge, and lastly how to curve the flat of the blade a little at the point, or rather end. Then, producing several small pieces of lime and sandstone, found among the earth kept in the boats, for the use of snow-blind gunners, he proceeded to rub down the edge to something like fitness for use.

After this he carefully tempered the blade, and with a penknife cut out a handle, in which he inserted it, lashing the two firmly together with twine made from one of the cod-lines. Long and patient labor with his few pebbles, and the leather of his cowhide boots, brought the _waghon_ at length to a keen, smooth edge; and great was Peter's joy when he again carried at his belt a tool so indispensable to the Indian hunter and workman.

That day, the fourth of their drift, brought little change in their position--the icebergs frozen together, were drifting, if at all, in one vast body. Towards night a north-west wind sprang up, and the thermometer, had the party possessed such an instrument, would probably have registered at least -10. A watch was kept all night to keep the fire replenished, and all the appliances used to keep out the cold air, and economize heat, scarcely kept the temperature up as high as +32, the freezing point of water.

Waring was kept carefully covered up, and professed to suffer nothing from cold, having all the extra clothing of the party. It was luckily the last cold snap of the season, and with the sunrise of the next day, Sunday, the fifth day of their voyaging, the wind had given place to a calm, although cold, clear, bracing atmosphere.

After the usual ablutions, which were never neglected by the party, followed by breakfast, the ice being closely frozen together, a walk to a high berg at the distance of a quarter of a mile was proposed, as it was thought that the course of the ice should bring them in sight at least, of the North Cape of St. Jean. This was generally acceded to by all but Waring, who preferred to remain and keep up the fire.

Taking their weapons, an ice-axe, and a light coil of rope, the three soon arrived, without misadventure, at the foot of an irregular mound of ice, at least fifty feet in height.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XIII.

THE CHAPEL BELL.--THE FIRST SEAL.--THE NORTH CAPE.--A SNOW-SQUALL.

The way was rough, and not without its dangers, for more than once Peter, who led the file, sprang just in time to save himself, as the treacherous crust above some yawning chasm between two heavy "Pans"

crumbled under his feet; and once he fell headlong, clutching at a friendly spur, just in time to escape tumbling among a lot of jagged and flinty shards of young "crushed ice."

The wind was light at times, coming in puffs and squalls; and although the day was bright, a mist here, snowy white, there crimson with sunbeams, again darkening into purplish blue, and elsewhere of a heavy and leaden obscurity, hung over the greater part of the sky, and made it a doubtful task to prognosticate, with any degree of certainty, the state of the weather for even an hour in advance.

As they proceeded, a strangely solemn, though faint and distant, sound broke the oppressive silence. The three halted and listened intently.

Again, low as the moan of the dying surges on a distant bar, the sound came thrilling over the icy sea to the southward, and each face flushed with a new hope of speedy release from their wild prison-house.

"Hark!" said Orloff, raising his hand. "I hear the sound of a church bell. We must be near the land."

"It must be from the tower of the Tignish Chapel, then," said La Salle, "for no other land save the North Cape lies in our course."

Again a blast came whistling among the defiles, and again a calm succeeded. All listened in breathless silence, and again the wished-for sound which spoke of the proximity of human society and Christian worship, came pealing across the desolate wastes, deserted of everything having life, and impressing the fancy of the beholder as does the desolation of long-forgotten cities, or the shattered marbles of the unremembered dead.

"I know that place. That bell Tignish Chapel. Two year ago I camp on Tignish Lun. Make basket, catch trout, shoot flover. Go hevery Sunday to ma.s.s,--that same place,--take squaw, papoose, boy, girl, all folks. Know that bell, sure. To-day Sunday, and folks going into chapel."

"He must be right," said La Salle, "but we are now near the berg, and from its top we shall see if we are indeed near the North Cape. Make haste, Peter; perhaps we may get near enough to-day to make our way to the sh.o.r.e."

A broad, level floe was all that intervened between the party and the berg which they sought. Running across it; although with some little difficulty, for the ice was covered with slush concealed by a crust insufficient to bear the weight of a man, they soon reached the berg. It was evidently of Arctic origin, for it was much larger than any of the many "pinnacles" in sight. It was composed of ice, which, wherever the snow had failed to lodge, appeared hard, transparent, and prismatic in the rays of the sun. Its sides were steep and precipitous, and at first the members of the party began to fear that they should be unable to mount the steep escarpment of eight or ten feet high, which formed its base, which was further defended by a moat of mingled sludge and rounded fragments, cemented by young ice.

Had the opposite bank been attainable, any of the party would have readily leaped across, trusting to their speed to save themselves from immersion among the rolling fragments; but no one cared to risk the treacherous footing beneath that inaccessible wall.

"I'm afraid we shall have to go back to our own lookout, and trust to a shift of the ice," said La Salle. "Can you think of any way of climbing that pinnacle, Peter?"

"No way do that, unless cut a way into that hice, and then no safe place to stan' on, sartain, this time," answered the Indian.

"Let me have that rope," said Regnar, quietly.

Taking the light Manilla painter, he proceeded to form a large loop, and grasping it near the running knot, laid half a dozen turns across his hand. Then swinging the coil around his head, he launched the rope at a group of jagged points, which projected just above the edge of the lowest part of the cliff. Again and again the noose came back unreeved, and again and again the patient boy, with rare strength and skill, flung the ample noose over the slippery spires of ice. At last, however, success rewarded his efforts, and a strong pull, with the united weight of all three, failed to start the closely-drawn bowline. Taking the axe and bearing the most of his weight on the cord, Regnar crossed the bending surface and shifting fragments, and finding a precarious footing on the berg, wound the rope around his left arm, and with the right cut steps into the brittle ice-wall.

In a few moments he ascended the cliff, and the others, leaving their guns behind them, found little difficulty in following him. Leaving the rope still fast, the three ascended the berg, which rose high above the surrounding ice. Their first look was to the southward. For a moment the distance and the ever-present snow deceived them; but the sun came from behind a cloud, and they saw, afar off, the red sandstone face of the snow-covered cliffs of the North Cape.

"They are now about twelve miles distant, and, as I judge, there can be but little open water between us and the sh.o.r.e. Let us hasten back and get the boat ready, for if this wind only holds, and no snow or rain comes on, we shall soon be able to reach the sh.o.r.e."

At that moment something fell with a splash into a small, partially open pool, on the farther side of the berg, and all saw a huge form disappear under the surface. Each started, felt mechanically for his weapons, and in brief monosyllables of Esquimaux, Micmac, and English, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the name of the animal whose presence none had even suspected.

"_Ussuk!_" whispered Regnar.

"_Nashquan_," murmured Peter.

"A seal," said La Salle.

Orloff slid down the berg, caught the firmly fastened cord, swung himself over the ice-foot, skipped lightly over the yielding fragments, seized his gun, and returned in almost less time than it takes to describe his movements. The seal, a huge male, had come to the surface among the floating fragments at the farther side of the pool, some fifty yards away, and now lay with his round head, protruding eyes, and stiff bristles, strikingly expressing anger, fear, and curiosity--the last predominating. Regnar threw his gun to his shoulder.

"What size shot have you?" said La Salle, laying his hand on his shoulder.

"Two buckshot cartridge,--heavy enough for him. If he were old 'hood'

now! Look! I show you something."

The lad took deliberate aim, and then, with the full force of his capacious lungs, gave a sharp, shrill whistle, which almost deafened his companions, and was re-echoed from the icy walls on the farther side of the pool, in piercing reverberations.

Surprised and affrighted by the unusual sound, the huge ussuk rose half his length above the water, and looked around him. The icy cliffs echoed the crashing volley, as both barrels poured forth their deadly hail almost in unison, and the huge animal settled down amid incarnadined waters and ice crimsoned with his life-blood, shot to death through the brain so skilfully that scarce a struggle or a tremor bore witness that the principle of life had departed.

Descending the berg, a small fragment of ice capable of bearing a man was found, and Regnar, taking the end of his line, stepped upon it, and with his gunstock paddled off to the dead seal, and affixing the line to one of its flippers, pulled himself ash.o.r.e, and joined the others in towing the game to the berg. Landing it on a little shelf, La Salle and Peter began to speculate as to how the huge carca.s.s, which must have weighed five hundred pounds, could be hauled over the berg, and safely landed. Regnar laughed at the idea.

"We want not the meat--only the skin, blubber, and liver. Why not skin here? Save much work for nothin'. Here, Peter, give me knife."

Peter drew the long blade from his belt, and Regnar making a single incision from chin to tail, the body seemed fairly to roll out of the thick, soft blubber coat which adhered to the skin. In less than two minutes Regnar had finished what La Salle had no doubt would take at least a good half hour. With equal deftness the liver was extracted, and a few pounds of meat taken from the flanks.

Fastening the whole to the line, it was drawn to the top of the berg, and thence down the slope to the rude stairs. As the weight was nearly half that of a man, Regnar merely placed the bight of the rope around the object on which it had caught. Its shape excited curiosity, and a few strokes of the axe cleared off its covering of ice.

"This ice from Greenland," said Regnar. "Here is the stone the Inuit uses for pots--what you call soapstone."

"Well, I hope we shall not need it," said La Salle, "for the North Cape is now only ten miles away, and it is not yet noon. I want the blubber for fuel, or I would not waste time with this skin even."

"We shall have all we want to get back to George. See how the clouds close in. Plenty snow right away now. Come, Peter, get across quick."

La Salle groaned in spirit, as, from the berg which he had reascended, he saw the distant red ledges shut out from view, and marked the first scattering flakes fall silently through the now calm atmosphere. Looking down, he saw that Peter and Regnar had got safely across the chasm, and almost despairing of the fate of his party, he followed down the rude steps, and across the treacherous bridge.

Letting the line slacken a little, Regnar gave a deft whirl, which cast off the bight from the rock, and the party, dragging behind them their prize, retraced their path amid what soon became a blinding snow-squall.

Luckily their track had been through deep snow, and therefore not easily covered up; for when they reached their own island of refuge, they could see scarce a rod in any direction.

Regnar dragged his prize to the little enclosure, and, pointing to the snow-flake, said,--

"Soon they grow larger, softer, then turn to rain. Then this skin and our boat must cover us, for the snow-water will spoil our house."