Courage, True Hearts Part 34

Nae cotillion brent new frae France, But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels, Put life and mettle in their heels."

But these were not the only amus.e.m.e.nts the crew went in for, on the snow-clad ice, for while Conal and Frank were one day visiting those great bergs, the inventive genius of the latter was once more shown.

They found that a great portion of one side of the biggest berg was quite on the slope, and covered with frozen snow.

"Hurrah!" cried Frank, "I've got another."

"Another what?"

"Why, another idea. This iceberg is just suited for tobogganing."

"Now," he added, "we sha'n't say a word to anybody till we try it ourselves first."

They, however, took the carpenter into their confidence, and he made them tiny sledges to sit upon. The slide was on a pretty gradual slope and altogether was about a hundred yards long from the top. Steps were cut at one side to make the getting up easy, and Frank himself was the first to make the descent.

"It is simply glorious!" This was his report.

"Flying," he added, "isn't in it."

And Conal himself confirmed this statement as soon as he himself had gone rushing down.

After this the great toboggan slide was in daily request, and the sound that came from the big berg was like the roaring of stones on a Scottish curling pond.

But high above the rushing noise, came the shouting and laughter of the merry-makers.

Poor Viking could not understand it, and I suppose he came to the conclusion that his human friends had all lost hold of the tiny supply of common-sense, which human beings can boast of.

But what with these games and dances, and then fun on board, the health of the crew continued excellent, though ever around the galley-fire at night (I mean before bed-time or at the tea hour) the men talked of home.

I myself, like most seafarers,--well, call us sailors if that sounds better,--dearly love

"A life on the ocean wave And a home on the rolling deep, Where the scattered waters rave And the winds their revels keep".

Yet wherever in this world I have been there always seemed to be a magnetic needle in my heart, and it always pointed to Home.

"Where'er we roam, whatever lands we see Our hearts untramelled fondly turn to thee * * * * *

Such is the patriot's boast; where'er we roam, Our first, best country, ever is at home."

On the whole, during their long imprisonment, the officers and crew of the good barque _Flora M'Vayne_ kept up their hearts.

At long last the sun came nearer and nearer the northern horizon. For days before he rose there was a twilight of about two hours. Then a galaxy of the loveliest clouds were lit up, but still no sun.

Before noon on the day after, however, Frank and Conal, who seemed now to be inseparable, climbed to the top of the tobogganing berg, and soon after caught a glimpse of the glorious sun.

Neither could speak for a time, and indeed tears were trickling down Frank's face, which he took no trouble to hide. For, as we have seen before, he was a very impressionable lad.

"Oh, the sun! the sun!" That was all he said, but next minute both were waving their hats to those on board and shouting:

"The sun! the sun!"

And such a cheer uprose from that long-imprisoned ship, as never before probably was heard in these southern regions of perpetual snow and ice.

High above all, the boys could hear the barking of n.o.ble Vike.

Yes, but a moment after, and high above even that, across the intervening ice came the wild skirl of Duncan's Highland bagpipe.

Duncan was playing the March of the Cameron Men as he walked boldly up and down in the waist of the ship, while Frank and Conal on the ice-block could not help chiming in with just one verse of that brave old song, which has thrilled so many a heart on bank or brae or battlefield:

"Ah! proudly they march, though each Cameron knows He may tread on the heather no more, Yet boldly he follows his chief to the field Where his laurels were gathered before".

"Yes, Frank, but we shall tread the heather again, sha'n't we, friend?"

"I hope so, and I mean to have a good try anyhow," was Frank's hearty reply.

Their dangers, however, were not all over yet. Not by a deal. In a still ice-pack like that in which they had lain so long, there is not very much to be feared except the danger of a nip or jam. But when the ice begins to open and the wind begins to blow, ah! then toil and trouble commence in earnest.

From observations, Captain Talbot now discovered that the immense field of ice on which they had been lying, had been gradually forcing its way on the current almost directly north, and that even Mount Sabine and the Admiralty Mountains were now a long way astern to the west.

And soon now the wind began to blow and howl; almost half a gale from the south-east by east. The noise, as it roared through the rigging and bare poles, was almost deafening, but this did not prevent these brave mariners from hearing every now and then the loud explosions on the ice-pack that heralded the breaking up of the whole, and that had been but a day or two ago a vast plain strong enough to have reviewed all the artillery in the world upon, would soon be but a chaos of rolling, dashing ice. The storm continued for more than a week, and all that time--every hour, in fact--the _Flora M'Vayne_ had been in peril and danger.

Gallant ship! How well she stood the squeezing, the cannonading, the battering! A vessel less strong in every timber, or one built of teak instead of Scottish oak would have collapsed and gone down in a few minutes, carrying the crew with her, or leaving them almost naked, hungry, and helpless on the pack, to die a death ten times more cruel than drowning.

She got perilously near to the sh.o.r.e at last, however. It must have been somewhere close to Yule or Robertson Bay, for Cape Adare had been left a long way astern.

They were close enough to see that certain destruction awaited them if unable to change their position. The pancake and bay ice was piled along the rugged sh.o.r.e, hills high, one piece above another, by the terrible force of wind and current.

When soundings were taken, and it was found that there was but little depth of water to spare, and that even this was gradually lessening, then both Morgan and the skipper became alarmed.

"We must set sail," said the latter, "and try to bring her up a few points, or, depend upon it, our risky voyage will come to a sudden end."

All hands were called.

CHAPTER XIV.--"HEAVE, AND SHE GOES! HURRAH!"

"All hands on deck! Tumble up, my lads! Tumble up!"

The men needed no second bidding. They did tumble up, every man Jack of them, as merrily as if marriage-bells had called them.

"All hands unship rudder!"