Red Rooney: The Last of the Crew Part 35

The Eskimo gravely bowed his head in a.s.sent to this proposition, and the seaman continued--

"I have spoken to you more than once, Angut, about the men in our land called surgeons--that you call knife-men,--how they will cut and carve your body, and tie you down sometimes, and give you terrible and prolonged suffering for the purpose of curing you and relieving your pain."

"True," replied Angut, who at once saw the drift of his friend's remark; "but then you _know_ that the knife-man's object is good. It is to cure, to relieve."

"But suppose," argued Rooney, "that you did _not_ know that his object was good--that you looked on him as a cruel, b.l.o.o.d.y, heartless monster, who cared not for your cries of pain--would your ignorance change his character?"

"No, no; he would remain good, whatever you might think," said Angut quickly; "I see. I see. I will try to think as you think--the Great Father is good, _must_ be good. And He will prove it some day. Don't you think so, Ridroonee?"

"Ay, truly, I think so; I am sure of it. But listen! Do you not hear sounds?"

They both listened intently, and gazed towards the northern headland of the bay, which at the time was bathed in brilliant moonlight. Presently two black specks, one larger than the other, were seen to round the point, and the chattering of women's voices was heard.

It was Arbalik in a kayak, preceding an oomiak propelled by several women. In her impatience to join her lord, Madame Okiok had insisted on a forced march. A few minutes more, and the women landed amid noisy demonstrations of satisfaction. Ere long the united party were busy round the unfailing lamps, enjoying social intercourse over an intermediate meal which, as it came between supper and breakfast, has not yet obtained a name.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE CHASE CONTINUED AND DISASTROUSLY INTERRUPTED.

The day following that on which the wives of Simek and Okiok, and the mothers of Arbalik and Ippegoo with the spinster Sigokow arrived, the southern Eskimos resumed their route northward, and the pursuers continued their journey to the south--the former in their sledges over the still unmelted ice-foot along the sh.o.r.e; the latter, in kayaks, by a lead of open water, which extended as far as the eye could reach.

Angut, Okiok, and Simek led the way in kayaks, the kayak damaged by the seal having been repaired. The other men were forced to embark in the women's boat. Eskimo men deem this an undignified position, and will not usually condescend to work in oomiaks, which are invariably paddled by the women, but Rooney, being influenced by no such feelings, quietly took the steering paddle, and ultimately shamed Arbalik and Ippegoo as well as the sons of Okiok into lending a hand.

During the first part of the voyage all went well, but next day the lead of open water was found to trend off the land, and run out into the pack, where numerous great glaciers were seen--some aground, others surging slowly southward with the Polar current.

"I don't like the look of it," remarked Angut, when the other leaders of the party ranged alongside of him for a brief consultation.

"Neither do I," said Simek. "The season is far advanced, and if there should be a general break-up of the ice while we are out among the floes, we should be lost."

"But it is impossible for us to travel by land," said Okiok. "No man knows the land here. The sea runs so far in that we might spend many moons in going round the bays without advancing far on our journey."

"So there is nothing left for us but to go on by water," said Angut, with decision. "Nunaga must be rescued."

"And so must Tumbler," said Okiok.

"And so must p.u.s.s.i," said Simek.

"What are you fellows consulting about?" shouted Red Rooney, coming up at that moment with the others in the oomiak.

"We are talking of the danger of the ice breaking up," answered Angut.

"But there is no other way to travel than by the open lead, so we have decided to go on."

"Of course you have," returned Rooney; "what else can we do? We _must_ risk something to save Nunaga, p.u.s.s.i, and Tumbler, to say nothing of Kabelaw. Get along, my hearties!"

How Rooney translated the last phrase into Eskimo is a point on which we can throw no light,--but no matter.

In a short time the party reached the neighbourhood of one of the largest bergs, one of those gigantic ma.s.ses of ice which resemble moderately-sized mountains, the peaks of which rose several hundred feet above the sea-level, while its base was more than a mile in diameter.

There were little valleys extending into its interior, through which flowed rivulets, whose winding courses were broken here and there by cascades. In short, the berg resembled a veritable island made of white sugar, the glittering sun-lit slopes of which contrasted finely with its green-grey shadows and the dark-blue depths of its wide rifts and profound caverns.

The lead or lane of water ran to within fifty yards of this ice-island, so that Rooney had a splendid view of it, and, being of a romantic turn of mind, amused himself as the oomiak glided past by peopling the white cliffs and valleys with snow-white inhabitants. While he was thus employed, there occurred a sudden cras.h.i.+ng and rending in the surrounding pack which filled him with consternation. It produced indeed the same effect on the Eskimos, as well it might, for the very catastrophe which they all dreaded was now taking place.

A slight swell on the sea appeared to be the originating cause, but, whatever it was, the whole surface was soon broken up, and the disintegrated ma.s.ses began to grind against each other in confusion. At the same time the lead which the voyagers had been following grew narrower, and that so rapidly, that they had barely time to jump upon a ma.s.s of ice when the opening closed and crushed the oomiak and Okiok's kayak to pieces.

Angut and Simek had time to lift their kayaks on to the ice, but that, as it turned out, was of no advantage.

"Make for the berg," shouted Angut to the women, at the same time seizing the hand of Kunelik, who chanced to be nearest to him, and a.s.sisting her to leap from one heaving ma.s.s to another. Rooney performed the same act of gallantry for old Kannoa, who, to his surprise, went over the ice like an antique squirrel. Okiok took his own wife in hand. As for p.u.s.s.imek, she did not wait for a.s.sistance, but being of a lively and active, as well as a stout and cheery disposition, she set off at a pace which caused her tail to fly straight out behind her, and made it difficult for Simek to keep up with her. Ippegoo and Arbalik, with the sons of Okiok, tried their best to save the two kayaks, for well they knew the danger of being left on the ice without the means of escaping; but the suddenness of the disruption, the width of the various channels they had to leap, and the instability of the ma.s.ses, compelled them, after much delay, to drop their burdens and save themselves. They only managed to reach the berg with extreme difficulty.

"Thank G.o.d, all safe!--but we have had a close shave," exclaimed Rooney, as he held out his hand to a.s.sist Ippegoo, who was the last of the party to clamber up the rugged side of the berg from the broken floe-pieces which were grinding against it.

"I wish we could say with truth `All safe,'" was Okiok's gloomy response, as he surveyed the ice-laden sea; "we have escaped being crushed or drowned, but only to be starved to death."

"A living man may hope," returned Angut gravely.

"Ay, and where there is life," added Rooney, "there ought to be thankfulness."

"I would be more thankful," said Ippegoo, with a woe-begone expression, "if we had saved even a spear; but what can we do without food or weapons?"

"Do? my son," said Kunelik; "can we not at least keep up heart? Who ever heard of any good coming of groaning and looking miserable?"

"Right you are, old girl," cried Rooney, giving the mother of Ippegoo a hearty pat on the shoulder. "There is no use in despairing at the very beginning of our troubles; besides, is there not the Great Spirit who takes care of us, although we cannot see or hear Him? I believe in G.o.d, my friends, and I'll ask Him to help us now."

So saying, to the surprise of the Eskimos, the seaman uncovered his head, and looking upwards, uttered a few words of earnest prayer in the name of Jesus.

At first the unsophisticated natives looked about as if they expected some visible and immediate answer to the pet.i.tion, but Rooney explained that the Great Spirit did not always answer at once or in the way that man might expect.

"G.o.d works by means of us and through us," he said. "We have committed the care of ourselves to Him. What we have now to do is to go to work, and do the best we can, and see what things He will throw in our way, or enable us to do, in answer to our prayer. Now, the first thing that occurs to me is to get away from where we stand, because that overhanging cliff beside us may fall at any moment and crush us. Next, we should go and search out some safe cavern in which we may spend the night, for we sha'n't be able to find such a place easily in the dark, and though it will be but a cold shelter, still, cold shelter is better than none--so come along."

These remarks of the sailor, though so familiar--perhaps commonplace--to us, seemed so just and full of wisdom to the unsophisticated natives, and were uttered in such an off-hand cheery tone, that a powerful effect was created, and the whole party at once followed the seaman, who, by this display of coolness, firmness, and trustfulness in a higher power, established a complete ascendancy over his friends. From that time they regarded him as their leader, even although in regard to the details of Eskimo life he was of course immeasurably their inferior.

They soon found a small cave, not far from the spot where they had landed--if we may use that expression--and there made preparation to spend the night, which by that time was drawing on.

Although their craft had been thus suddenly destroyed and lost, they were not left absolutely dest.i.tute, for each one, with that prompt mental activity which is usually found in people whose lives are pa.s.sed in the midst of danger, had seized the bear-skin, deerskin, or fur bag on which he or she happened to be sitting, and had flung it on to the floes before leaping thereon; and Ippegoo, with that regard for internal sustenance which was one of his chief characteristics, had grasped a huge lump of seal's flesh, and carried it along with him. Thus the whole party possessed bedding, and food for at least one meal.

Of course the meal was eaten not only cold but raw. In the circ.u.mstances, however, they were only too thankful, to care much about the style of it. Before it was finished daylight fled, the stars came out, and the aurora borealis was shooting brilliantly athwart the sky.

Gradually the various members of the party spread their skins on the most level spot discoverable, and, with lumps of ice covered with bits of hide for pillows, went to sleep with what resembled free-and-easy indifference.

Two of the party, however, could not thus easily drop into happy oblivion. Red Rooney felt ill at ease. His knowledge of those Arctic seas had taught him that their position was most critical, and that escape would be almost miraculous, for they were eight or ten miles at least off the land, on a perishable iceberg, with an ice-enc.u.mbered sea around, and no means of going afloat, even if the water had been free.

A feeling of gloom which he had not felt before, and which he could not banish, rendered sleep impossible; he therefore rose, and sauntered out of the cave.

Outside he found Angut, standing motionless near the edge of an ice-cliff, gazing up into the glorious constellations overhead.

"I can't sleep, Angut," said the seaman; "I suppose you are much in the same way?"

"I do not know. I did not try," returned the Eskimo in a low voice; "I wish to think, not to sleep. Why cannot the Kablunet sleep?"

"Well, it's hard to tell. I suppose thinking too much has something to do with it. The fact is, Angut, that we've got into what I call a fix, and I can't for the life of me see how we are to get out of it. Indeed I greatly fear that we shall never get out of it."