The Giant of the North, Robert Michael Ballantyne [autobiographies to read .TXT] 📗

If you had been dreaming that would have wakened you--wouldn't it?"

"I dare say it would, father," returned the boy, resuming his seat, "but I'm convinced now. Don't do it again, please. I wish I knew what Chingatok thinks of it. Try to ask him, father. I'm sure you've had considerable experience in his lingo by this time."

Benjy referred here, not only to the numerous conversations which his father had of late carried on with the giant through the interpreter, but to the fact that, having been a whaler in years past, Captain Vane had previously picked up a smattering of various Eskimo dialects. Up to that day he had conversed entirely through the medium of Anders, but as that useful man was now in Alf's boat, the Captain was left to his own resources, and got on much better than he had expected.

Chingatok turned his eyes from the horizon on which they had been fixed, and looked dreamily at the Captain when asked what he was thinking about.

"I have been thinking," said he, "of home, _my_ home over there." He lifted his huge right arm and pointed to the north. "And I have been thinking," he continued, "that there must be another home up there." He raised his hand and pointed to the sky.

"Why do you think so?" asked the Captain in some surprise.

"Because it is so beautiful, so wonderful, so full of light and peace," replied the Eskimo. "Sometimes the clouds, and the wind, and the rain, come and cover it; but they pass away, and there it is, just the same, always calm, and bright, and beautiful. Could such a place have been made for nothing? Is there no one up there? not even the Maker of it? and if there is, does he stay there alone? Men and women die, but surely there is something in us that does not die. If there is no spirit in us that lives, of what use was it to make us at all? I think we shall have a home up there."

Chingatok had again turned his eyes to the horizon, and spoke the concluding words as if he were thinking aloud. The Captain looked at him earnestly for some time in silence.

"You are right, Chingatok," he said at length, or at least attempted to say as best he could--"you are right. My religion teaches me that we have spirits; that God--your God and mine--dwells up there in what we call heaven, and that His people shall dwell with him after death."

"His people!" repeated the Eskimo with a perplexed look. "Are some men his people and some not?"

"Undoubtedly," replied the Captain, "men who obey a chief's commands are _his_ men--his friends. Those who refuse to obey, and do every kind of wickedness, are _not_ his friends, but his enemies. God has given us free-wills, and we may reject him--we may choose to be his enemies."

It must not be supposed that Captain Vane expressed himself thus clearly, but the above is the substance of what he attempted by many a strange and complicated sentence to convey. That he had made his meaning to some extent plain, was proved by Chingatok's reply.

"But I do not know God's commands; how then can I obey them?"

"You may not know them by book," replied the Captain promptly; "for you have no books, but there is such a thing as the commands or law of God written in the heart, and it strikes me, Chingatok, that you both know and obey more of your Maker's laws than many men who have His word."

To this the Eskimo made no answer, for he did not rightly understand it, and as the Captain found extreme difficulty in expressing his meaning on such questions, he was quite willing to drop the conversation. Nevertheless his respect for Chingatok was immensely increased from that day forward.

He tried to explain what had been said to Benjy, and as that youth's mind was of an inquiring turn he listened with great interest, but at last was forced to confess that it was too deep for him. Thereafter he fell into a mood of unusual silence, and pondered the matter for a long time.

Awaking from his reverie at last, he said, abruptly, "How's her head, father?"

"Due north, Benjy."

He pulled out a pocket-compass about the size of an ordinary watch, which instrument it was his habit to guard with the most anxious care.

"North!" repeated the boy, glancing at the instrument with a look of surprise, "why, we're steering almost due east!"

"Ah! Ben, that comes of your judging from appearances without knowledge, not an uncommon state of mind in man and boy, to say nothing of woman. Don't you know what variation of the compass is?"

"No, father."

"What! have you been so long at sea with me and never heard yet about the magnetic pole?"

"Never a word, father. It seems to me that poles are multiplying as we get further north."

"Oh, Benjy, for shame--fie! fie!"

"Maybe if you had told me about it I might have had less to be shamed of, and you too, father."

"That's true, Benjy. That's true. You're a sharp boy for your age. But don't be disrespectful to your father, Ben; no good can ever come o' that. Whatever you are, be respectful to your old father. Come, I'll tell you about it now."

It will have been observed by this time that little Benjamin Vane was somewhat free in his converse with his father, but it must not therefore be supposed that he was really insolent. All his freedom of speech was vented in good humour, and the Captain knew that. There was, indeed, a powerful bond not only of affection but of sympathy between the little delicate boy and the big strong man. They thoroughly understood each other, and between those who understand each other there may be much freedom without offence, as everybody knows.

"You must understand," began the Captain, "that although the needle of the mariner's compass is said to point to the north with its head and to the south with its tail, it does not do so exactly, because the magnetic poles do not coincide exactly with the geographical poles. There are two magnetic poles just as there are two geographical poles, one in the southern hemisphere, the other in the northern. D'ye understand!"

"Clear as daylight, father."

"Well, Benjy, the famous Arctic discoverer, Sir James Ross, in 1832, discovered that the northern magnetic pole was situated in the island of Boothia Felix, in latitude 70 degrees 5 seconds and longitude 96 degrees 46 seconds West. It was discovered by means of an instrument called the dipping needle, which is just a magnetised needle made for dipping perpendicularly instead of going round horizontally like the mariner's compass. A graduated arc is fitted to it so that the amount of dip at any place on the earth's surface can be ascertained. At the magnetic equator there is no dip at all, because the needle being equally distant from the north and south magnetic poles, remains horizontal. As you travel north the needle dips more and more until it reaches the region of the north magnetic pole when it is almost perpendicular--pointing straight down.

"Now, it is only on a very few places of the earth's surface that the horizontal needle points to the true north and south, and its deviation from the _earth's_ pole in its determination to point to the _magnetic_ pole is called the variation of the compass. This variation is greater or less of course at different places, and must be allowed for in estimating one's exact course. In our present explorations we have got so far beyond the beaten track of travel that greater allowance than usual has to be made. In fact we have got considerably to the north of the magnetic pole. At the same time we are a good way to the east'ard of it, so that when I see the compass with its letter N pointing to what I know to be the magnetic north, I take our geographical position into account and steer almost due east by _compass_, for the purpose of advancing due north. D'ye see?"

"I'm not so sure that I do, father. It seems to me something like the Irishman's pig which you pull one way when you want him to go another. However, I'll take your word for it."

"That's right, my boy; when a man can't understand, he must act on faith, if he _can_, for there's no forcing our beliefs, you know. Anyhow he must be content to follow till he does understand; always supposing that he can trust his leader."

"I'm out of my depths altogether now, father. P'r'aps we'd better change the subject. What d'ye say to try a race with Leo? His boat seems to be overhauling us."

"No, no, Ben; no racing. Let us advance into the great unknown north with suitable solemnity."

"We appear to sail rather better than you do, uncle," shouted Leo, as his boat drew near.

"That's because you're not so heavily-laden," replied the Captain, looking back; "you haven't got giants aboard, you see; moreover there's one o' you rather light-headed."

"Hallo! uncle; evil communications, eh? You'd better change Benjy for Oblooria. She's quite quiet, and never jokes. I say, may I go ahead of you?"

"No, lad, you mayn't. Take a reef in your regulator, and drop into your proper place."

Obedient to orders, Leo pulled the regulator or check-string until the kite's position was altered so as to present less resistance to the wind, and dropped astern of the _Faith_, which was the name given by Benjy to his father's boat, the other two being named respectively the _Hope_ and the _Charity_.

The prosperous advance did not, however, last very long. Towards evening the three kites suddenly, and without any previous warning, began to dive, soar, flutter, and tumble about in a manner that would have been highly diverting if it had not been dangerous. This no doubt was the effect of various counter-currents of air into which they had flown. The order was at once given to haul on the regulators and coil up the towing lines. It was promptly obeyed, but before a few fathoms had been coiled in, the kites again became as steady as before, with this change, however, that they travelled in a north-westerly direction.

The value of the leeboards now became apparent.

These were hinged down the middle so as to fold and become small enough to stow in the bottom of each boat when not in use. When unfolded and hung over the side, they presented a surface of resistance to the water much greater than that of an ordinary boat's keel, so that very little leeway indeed was made. By means of the steering-oar Captain Vane kept his boat advancing straight northward, while the kite was puffing in a north-westerly direction. The kite was thus compelled by the boat also to travel due north, though of course it did so in a sidelong manner.

Thus far the advance continued prosperously, the pace being but little checked and the course unaltered, but when, an hour or two later, the wind