Steve Young Part 22

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

OCCUPANTS OF THE DEEP.

Saddened faces met the gaze of the occupants of the stern sheets, as the men steadily tugged away at their oars hour after hour, with the heavy beluga hanging from its rope behind. Then all at once, when the mist was most dense, the silence perfect, and a feeling coming over all that it would be impossible to go on rowing much longer, every one loosed his oar and joined in a loud cheer; for from quite close at hand--so near, in fact, that the mist swayed with the concussion--there was the dull, heavy roar of a cannon.

"The _Hvalross_!" cried Steve.

"Yes, our signal-gun," replied the captain.

A faint cheer like the distant echo of that from the boat was now heard, the men bent to their oars with renewed vigour, and ten minutes later, guided by shout after shout, the boat suddenly glided under the counter of the vessel.

"Why, we thought we had lost you!" cried the doctor, leaning over from the gangway.

"Then you got back?"

"Yes, hours ago. The ship came right upon us, nearly running us down.

But what a fog!"

"Yes," said Captain Marsham drily, "what a fog! You seem to have been more fortunate than we were. Save your fish?"

"Oh yes; they've got it towing alongside. And you, did you cut yours adrift?"

"No; it is alongside, too."

All were too tired to make an attack upon the whales that day, and after a good meal the watch was set, and those at liberty sought relief from their weariness in sleep, leaving the ship lying to and with the fires going sufficiently to enable the engineer to get up steam at a very short notice and take the ship out of danger if any came near.

Steve awoke after many hours' sleep to find that a light breeze had swept away the mist, and that they were lying about ten miles away from the ice, toward which they had partly drifted, partly steamed, during the heavy mist. It was another example of the difficulties of navigation in the north, another of the risks to which sailors are exposed. But now that the trouble had pa.s.sed it was almost forgotten, the men being eagerly at work cutting up the two whales and transferring their thick blubber to the caldron, from which a clear, sweet oil was soon after being drawn off and emptied into one of the tanks that henceforth would be reserved for this particular kind of oil.

The trouble of the past day was forgotten, and the men were ready to make light of it all, save the Norwegian sailors, who shook their heads when the others laughed and bantered them about getting lost; they knew the reality of the danger better, and said nothing either to make much or light of it.

The rendering down of the bear's fat and the boiling of the whale blubber into oil rather disgusted Steve; but he contented himself with making a face when the doctor talked about it.

"Must take the rough with the smooth," he said. "The bear-hunt was very exciting and the whale-fishing grand. I think I shall get Johannes to let me try harpooning."

"You mean," said the doctor, "that you must take the smooth with the rough."

"Why? I don't understand you," replied the boy.

"The smooth oil with the rough work of capturing."

"Oh, I see!" cried Steve.

"And you mean to try harpooning?"

"Why not, sir? I tried shooting."

"Wait till you have some more muscle on your arm, Steve," said the doctor, laughing; and then, after a look round at the sunlit sea, on which they were gliding easily along with plenty of canvas spread, as there was a favourable wind, he went below.

"Wait till I've got more muscle," muttered Steve. "I've got as much as most fellows of my age. Yes, as much as you have, Mr Watty Links; and I'll show you that I have one of these days," he added, as he caught sight of the boy watching him with a supercilious smile on his face.

"No, I won't," thought Steve, as the boy disappeared. "Nice blackguard I should look fighting with a fellow like that. Why, he might lick me,"

he added after a few moments' thought. "I'm not afraid of him, but he's bigger and stronger than I am, and he might. I should never forgive myself," he said half aloud. "Yes, I should," he muttered, smiling at his fresh idea, "when I had had another try and licked him. Bother! I didn't come to sea to fight. Here, Jakobsen, where's Johannes?"

The man smiled and pointed upward.

"What do you mean? Oh, I see; in the crow's-nest."

"Yes, with the captain's spy-gla.s.s." Steve had not been aloft since the day when the tub was fixed to the main-mast, and without pausing to think of anything that was said upon that occasion he climbed on to the bulwarks, seized hold of the shrouds, and began to mount slowly and steadily, enjoying the soft breeze blowing by him, and noticing how different the sails looked aloft from what they did from the deck. The main-mast was pa.s.sed, and he rested in the top for a few minutes to have a look round at the glittering sea, so brilliant now in the clear atmosphere. Then he had a look upward, and began to mount again quietly, and in an easy, effortless way, as if he enjoyed the task. He paused again, holding on by the shrouds as he looked up once more, to see that the Norseman was intent upon something in the distance, resting the large telescope he had taken up on the ring or rail of iron raised above the top of the cask, just at a convenient height for the purpose, and in perfect ignorance of the presence of visitors. Steve smiled as he climbed higher, and paused once more as he reached the stout cross-bars which they had placed that day when the crow's-nest was built.

"Ahoy there, Johannes!" he cried.

The man gave a violent start, and turned to look over the edge of the cask.

"Mr Young!" he cried, "you there?"

"Look's like it. I've come to see you. Got any room in your nest?"

The Norseman laughed.

"Well, I daresay you could creep in. But did the captain give you leave to come aloft?"

"No; I only just made up my mind to come. Open the door; I'm coming."

"Take care, my lad!" cried the Norseman warningly. "There's no one to catch you if you slip."

"I won't slip this time," said Steve merrily; and climbing from the shrouds on to the wooden ladder, he went up from bar to bar till his head and shoulders pa.s.sed into the cask, and the next minute the hinged bottom fell to again, and he had just room to stand in company with the sailor.

"I say, rather a tight fit," said Steve, laughing. "Wouldn't do for two people to quarrel packed together in a barrel like this."

"But why have you come up, sir? Did the mate send any message?"

"No, I tell you," cried Steve. "I only saw that you were up here, and thought I should like to come up for a chat."

"Very good of you, sir," said the man quietly. "Got over the scare of the fog?"

"Oh yes, now. It's of no use to worry about things when they're over.

It was dangerous, though, wasn't it?"

"Very, sir," said the Norseman gravely. "Three poor fellows from our town rowed away from their ship with three Swedish men. They were after walrus. One of those fogs came on, and they were never seen again."

"No? What became of them?"

Johannes shook his head.

"The great sea is wide, sir," he replied. "The fog confused them, and they must have rowed in the wrong direction, been caught in one of the strong currents, and then tried to reach home as they could not find their ship. There are terrible losses out here in some summers."

"Was it near here that they were lost?" said Steve, after a few minutes'

silence, during which he pictured the sufferings of the despairing boat's crew.