Bobby of the Labrador Part 11

And he squared his shoulders and laughed his good-natured, infectious laugh, in which Jimmy joined, and the two returned to camp.

There was no floe ice on the coast now, but the sea was dotted with many icebergs, children of the great northern glaciers, drifting southward on the Arctic current. Some of them were small and insignificant. Others towered in ma.s.sive majesty and grandeur high above the sea, miniature mountains of ice. Some were of solid white, but the greater part of them reflected marvelous blues and greens and were a riot of beautiful color.

One of the smaller icebergs lying a half mile or so from Itigailit Island attracted Bobby's attention as he and Jimmy walked back from the cairn.

"See that berg, Jimmy?" he asked.

"The little one close in?"

"Yes. Do you know, I've got an idea. That bear meat won't keep long unless we pack it in ice or salt it, and I'd rather have it fresh than salted, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would!" said Jimmy.

"Then let's take your skiff--it's bigger than ours--and go for a load of ice."

"It's dangerous to go digging on icebergs. They're like to turn over,"

suggested Jimmy.

"Oh, don't be afraid, now. Come on. There isn't any danger," said Bobby, with impelling enthusiasm. "We can get enough ice to keep the meat fresh until it's all used up. Come on."

And Jimmy, as was his custom when Bobby urged, agreed. Skipper Ed's skiff lay at the landing, and arming themselves with an ax the two pulled away un.o.bserved.

It was a small iceberg, perhaps sixty feet in diameter, and rising not more than twenty feet above the water. Its surface was irregular, and there were several places where excellent footing could be had. The boat was directed toward one of these.

"You stay in the boat," said Bobby, seizing the ax, "and I'll go aboard her and cut the ice."

"Be careful," cautioned Jimmy.

"Oh, there's no danger," said Bobby, climbing to the iceberg.

Bobby began chopping off as large pieces as he thought he could conveniently handle. The ice was exceedingly hard and brittle. It had frozen centuries before, under the extremely low temperatures of the Arctic regions. It had its beginning, perhaps, in snow deposited in some far-off Greenland valley. Other snows had come upon it, and still other snows, until a tremendous weight of snow pressed it, as it froze, into a gla.s.s-like hardness.

And all the while the great ma.s.s was moving, inch by inch, and slowly, down the long valley toward the sea. Perhaps a century pa.s.sed, perhaps two or three, or even more, centuries, before this particular portion of the glacier, as these ma.s.ses of ice between the hills are called, reached the sea and was at last thrust out beyond the land.

And then, one day, with a report like the report of a cannon, it separated from the mother glacier, slid out into the current, and began its southward voyage. Months had pa.s.sed since then--perhaps a year, or even two or three years--and all the time it had been wasting away in the water until Bobby and Jimmy found it this July day, off Itigailit Island.

But neither Bobby as he chopped at the ice, nor Jimmy as he sat in the boat, gave that a thought, if indeed they knew it. They were intent only upon gathering enough of the aged ice to preserve the meat of a polar bear.

Neither did they realize that with each stroke of the ax Bobby was disturbing the center of gravitation of the iceberg, already delicately balanced in the water, until presently Jimmy noticed that the side next him was rising--very slowly and deliberately at first.

"Bobby! Look out--the berg's turning!" he shouted in a terrified voice.

Up and up went the side of the iceberg. Bobby was lost to view. Then came a rush of water, a great deluging wave swamped the skiff, and Jimmy went down with a crash and roar of water and crumbling ice in his ears.

CHAPTER XII

ADRIFT ON THE OPEN SEA

As the iceberg turned, great ma.s.ses of ice, some of them weighing tons, loosened from the main body, and with loud rumbling and roar crashed into the sea. Bobby, when he realized what was happening, began with all his energy to scramble up the wall of ice as it rose from the water.

Fortunately it was a small iceberg, and fortunately, also, it turned slowly and with deliberation and but a short distance, when it again reached its equilibrium, and was still.

Bobby's life had been one of pretty constant peril and adventure, and after the manner of wilderness dwellers he had learned resourcefulness and self-possession. It is indeed a part of the daily training of every lad of the wilderness, that he acquire these attributes, until at last they become second nature to him, and instinctively he does the thing he should do when he comes suddenly face to face with unexpected dangers. And so it was with both Bobby and Jimmy, and thus it came about that Bobby did not lose his head when the iceberg began to turn, and when it was again at rest he found himself upon a high pinnacle, with the seething waters all around him. To be sure, his heart beat faster, and it was but natural that he should be excited, but his nerves were nevertheless under control, and his wits, too.

From his perch upon the iceberg Bobby looked eagerly for Jimmy and the skiff. He feared that some of the ponderous blocks of ice had fallen upon them and crushed them, and the thought made him heart-sick for an instant.

But presently he saw the skiff, filled with water and smothering in the swell, and a moment later he discovered Jimmy, also smothering in the swell, but swimming vigorously toward the iceberg. This brought him vast relief. Jimmy was alive and apparently uninjured, and the whole adventure became to Bobby at once an ordinary occurrence of their every-day life, for which he was mightily thankful. To be sure it was an unpleasant and annoying adventure, but they would escape from it, he had no doubt, none the worse for their experience. And in this frame of mind he clambered down the slippery sides of the ice hill to a level spot at the water's edge, shouting in the most matter-of-fact way, as he did so:

"This way, Jimmy! This way! You can climb aboard here!"

In a few strokes Jimmy came alongside, and Bobby, taking his hand, helped him to scramble, shivering, to the ice.

"My, Bobby, but I was glad to see you here!" Jimmy exclaimed through his chattering teeth. "I was afraid you were done for! I was afraid it carried you under when it turned."

"I was afraid you were done for, too!" and there was thanksgiving in Bobby's voice. "How did it happen you got into the water? Did the ice hit the skiff?"

"I don't know how it happened," said Jimmy. "I don't think the ice hit the skiff, but it all came so suddenly I don't know."

"Well, here we are, and out there's the boat, and we've got to get it,"

declared Bobby. "I'm going for it."

"No, let me go. I'm wet anyhow, and I'm all right for it," Jimmy protested. "I might have brought it in with me, but I didn't see it."

"I'm going," declared Bobby, with an accent that left no doubt he was, as he pulled off his clothes, and his sealskin boots. "You've had your dip, and I'm going to have one now--the first of the year."

"It's pretty cold," Jimmy cautioned. "I've been in, and I'm used to it, and don't mind it."

But Bobby was in, and swimming for the skiff. It was, fortunately, not above fifty or sixty feet away, for the whole occurrence had taken place within a very few minutes' time, and the boat had not yet had time to drift beyond reach.

A few strokes carried Bobby to the submerged skiff. He secured the painter, which was attached to the bow, and with some hard tugging reached the iceberg, and climbed up with Jimmy's a.s.sistance.

"You'd better take off your things and wring 'em out, while I dress,"

Bobby suggested, as he drew his clothes on.

"I guess I had," Jimmy agreed.

"Now," said Bobby, when he and Jimmy were dressed, after Jimmy had wrung as much of the water as possible from his clothes, "we're going to have a hard time of it getting the water out of her. How'll we do it?"

"Can't we get her alongside and turn her over?" Jimmy suggested. "We can pull her up empty."

With some mighty pulling and hauling, and many futile efforts, they at length succeeded, and presently the skiff was in the water again and floating as easily as though nothing had happened and it had never once been under the waves. And then a new problem confronted them.

"The oars! The oars are gone!" exclaimed Jimmy in consternation.