Seven Frozen Sailors Part 28

"Look here, my man," said the doctor; and his nephew got behind him.

"Yes, and look here," said Scudds. "You want to diskiver the North Pole, don't yer?"

"Well, you are very impertinent, my man," said the doctor; "but, yes. I do."

"Then you shall diskiver it along o' the skipper, and young stowaway there."

"And what will you do?" said the doctor.

"Oh," said Scudds, "me, and Borstick, and my mates is agoin' back.

We've had enough of it, I tell yer."

"But how are we to go on without you?" said the doctor.

"I'll show yer," said Scudds. "Now mates!"

To my intense horror, and in spite of my struggles, they seized us all three; and then, with a lot of laughing and cheering, they brought up some pieces of rope, and three good-sized blocks of ice.

"What are you going to do, scoundels?" I shrieked.

"Well," said Scudds, grinning, "my mates and me's of opinion that the North Pole is down in the hole, and we're agoin' to send you three there to see."

"But it's murder!" I cried.

"It's in the service of science," said the doctor, blandly. "We shall make great discoveries. You won't mind, Alfred?" he said, to his nephew.

"I should have been delighted, uncle, if I had only procured my skates,"

said the young fellow.

"These here's better than skates," said Scudds, grinning; and, to my extreme horror, they bound the young man to a block of ice, carried it to the edge of the crater, gave it a slight push, and away it went down, and down, rapidly gliding till it entered the dark mist toward the bottom.

"He'll discover it first," said the doctor, calmly.

"But no one will know," I said, bitterly.

"We may get up again first," he said, radiantly, as the men tied him on in his turn.

"Good luck to you, if you do," said Scudds, grinning, as he tied the last knot binding the stout old fellow to the second block of ice.

"_Au revoir_, Captain!" said the doctor, smiling; and then they pushed him on to the inclined way, and he glided off, waving his hand as he went, till he was nearly half-way down, and then the crew seized me.

"Not without a struggle!" I said; and seizing an iron bar used for breaking ice, I laid about me, knocking one fellow after another down, and sending them gliding over the sides of the awful gulf, till only Scudds remained behind.

"Not yet, skipper!" he cried, avoiding my blow, and springing at my throat--"not yet;" and the next minute we were engaged in a desperate struggle, each trying with all his might to get the other to the edge of that awful slope, and hurl him down.

Twice he had me on the brink and his savage look seemed to chill my blood; but with an effort I wrenched myself away, and prolonged the struggle, getting the better of him, till, filled with the same savage thoughts as he, I got him right to the edge.

"Not yet, skipper--not yet!" he exclaimed; and then, allowing himself to fall, he drew me, as it were, over his head, and the next moment I was hanging upon the icy slope, holding on only by one of his hands, and vainly trying to get a footing, for my feet kept gliding away.

"You villain, you shall die with me!" I cried, clinging tenaciously to his hand to drag him down, too, but he looked down laughingly at me.

"I shall go back and say I found the North Pole all by myself!" he cried, with a hideous grin; and then, apparently without an effort, he shook me off, and I began to glide down, down, down, into the horrible black mist below me!

As I glided over the ice, which was wonderfully smooth, my rate of progress grew each moment more rapid, till it was like lightning in its speed. I fancied I heard Scudds' mocking laugh; but it was far distant, and now I was nearing the mist each moment, and instead of cold I could feel a strange burning sensation in my head.

"What of those gone before?" I asked myself, as I slid on at lightning speed. "Have they been dashed to pieces, or have they plunged into some horrible abyss? Yes, that must be it," I thought, for now I was through the mist, and speeding on to what looked like the hole of the great funnel, down which I was hurried.

The sensation was not unpleasant, but for the heat, and, moved now by curiosity, I struggled into a sitting position; then, feet first, I skimmed on, and on, and on, till right before me there seemed to be an edge, over which I slid into intense darkness; ever going on down, down, down, with the noise of wind rushing by me as I fell, till my head spun round; then there was a strange sensation of giddy drowsiness; and, lastly, all was blank.

"Yes, he'll do now," said a familiar voice. "He's getting on. Head beautifully cool."

"Eh?" I said, staring at the speaker.

"Well, skipper, that was a narrow touch for you, I thought once you were gone."

"So did I," was my reply; "but how did you and Bostock get out?"

"Wandering a little still," said the doctor, in a whisper to Bostock.

"Get out?" he said aloud. "Oh, easily enough."

"But, but," I said, faintly, holding my hand to my head--"that horrible crater!"

"Lie still, my dear captain," he said, "and don't worry. You'll be stronger in a day or two."

"But tell me!" I said, appealingly.

"Well, there's little to tell," he said, smiling. "Only that you pitched head first twenty feet down the slope of that iceberg three weeks ago, and you've been in a raging fever ever since."

"Then the overturning of the iceberg--the dive of the steamer--the seven frozen sailors--the crater?"

"My dear fellow," he said, gently, "you've been delirious, and your head evidently is not quite right yet. There, drink that."

I took what he gave me, and sank into a deep sleep, from which I awoke much refreshed, and by degrees I learned that I had slipped while we were on the beautiful iceberg, and had a very narrow escape of my life; that, far from walking back to the steamer, and sitting on the deck to hear a sc.r.a.ping noise, I had been carried carefully on board by Bostock and Scudds. Imagination did the rest.

I need not continue our adventures in our real voyage, for they were very uneventful. The doctor got some nice specimens and thoroughly enjoyed his trip; but we were stopped on all sides by the ice, and at last had to return, loaded with oil and preserved natural history matters, after what the doctor called the pleasantest trip he had ever had.

But, all the same, it would have been very interesting if the Seven Frozen Sailors had really been thawed out to give us forth their yarns-- of course always excepting the rush down into the misty crater.

However, here are their stories, told by seven pens, and may they make pleasant many a fireside.