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

and oars combined carried them forward so fast as to decrease considerably the danger of being whelmed by a falling wave. These waves increased every moment in size, and their crests were so broken and cut off by the gale that the three boats, instead of appearing as they had hitherto done the only solid objects in the scene, were almost lost to sight in the chaos of black waves and driving foam. Although they tried their best to keep close together they failed, and each soon became ignorant of the position of the others. The last that they saw of Alf's boat was in the hollow between two seas like a vanishing cormorant or a northern diver. Leo was visible some time longer. He was wielding the steering-oar in an attitude of vigorous caution, while his Eskimos were pulling as if for their lives. An enormous wave rose behind them, curled over their heads and appeared ready to overwhelm them, but the sturdy rowers sent the boat forward, and the broken crest passed under them. The next billow was still larger. Taken up though he was with his own boat the Captain found time to glance at them with horror.

"They're gone!" he cried, as the top of the billow fell, and nothing was seen save the heads of the four men like dark spots on the foam. The boat had in truth been overwhelmed and sunk, but, like a true lifeboat it rose to the surface like a cork the instant the weight of water was removed, and her crew, who had held on to the life-lines and oars, were still safe.

"Well done the little _Hope_!" cried the Captain, while Benjy gave vent to his feelings in a cheer, which was evidently heard by Leo, for he was seen to wave his hand in reply. Next moment another wave hid the _Hope_ from view, and it was seen no more at that time.

"I feel easier now, Benjy, thank God, after _that_. Alf is a fair steersman, and our boats are evidently able to stand rough usage."

Benjy made no reply. He was rubbing the water out of his eyes, and anxiously looking through the thick air in the hope of seeing Leo's boat again. The poor boy was grave enough now. When the might and majesty of the Creator are manifested in the storm and the raging sea, the merely humorous fancies of man are apt to be held in check.

The Captain's boat went rushing thus wildly onwards, still, fortunately, in the right direction; and for some hours there was no decrease in the force of the gale. Then, instead of abating, as might have been expected, it suddenly increased to such an extent that speedy destruction appeared to be inevitable.

"No sort o' craft could live long in _this_," muttered the Captain, as if to himself rather than to his son, who sat with a firm expression on his somewhat pale countenance, looking wistfully towards the northern horizon. Perhaps he was wondering whether it was worth while to risk so much for such an end. Suddenly he shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed intently.

"Land!" he exclaimed in a low eager tone.

"Whereaway, boy? Ay, so there is something there. What say you, Chingatok? Is it land?"

The giant, who, during all this time, had calmly plied a pair of oars with strength equal almost to that of four men, looked over his shoulder without, however, relaxing his efforts.

"No," he said, turning round again, "it is an ice-hill."

"A berg!" exclaimed the Captain. "We will make for it. Tie your handkerchief, Benjy, to the end of an oar and hold it up. It will serve as a guide to our comrades."

In a wonderfully short space of time the berg which Benjy had seen as a mere speck on the horizon rose sharp, rugged, and white against the black sky. It was a very large one--so large that it had no visible motion, but seemed as firm as a rock, while the billows of the Arctic Ocean broke in thunder on its glassy shore.

"We'll get shelter behind it, Ben, my boy," said the Captain, "hold the oar well up, and don't let the rag clap round the blade. Shake it out so. God grant that they may see it."

"Amen," ejaculated Benjy to the prayer with heartfelt intensity.

There was danger as well as safety in the near vicinity to this berg, for many of its pinnacles seemed ready to fall, and there was always the possibility of a mass being broken off under water, which might destroy the equilibrium of the whole berg, and cause it to revolve with awfully destructive power.

However, there was one favourable point--the base was broad, and the ice-cliffs that bordered the sea were not high.

In a few more minutes the western end of the berg was passed. Its last cape was rounded, and the _Faith_ was swept by the united efforts of Chingatok, Benjy, and Toolooha, (who _would_ not remain under cover), into the comparatively still water on the lee, or northern side of the berg.

"Hurrah!" shouted Benjy in a tone that was too energetic and peculiar to have been called forth by the mere fact of his own escape from danger.

Captain Vane looked in the direction indicated by the boy's glistening eyes--glistening with the salt tears of joy as well as with salt sea spray--and there beheld the other two boats coming dancing in like wild things on the crests of the heaving waves. They had seen the signal of the handkerchief, understood and followed it, and, in a few minutes more, were under the lee of the ice-cliffs, thanking God and congratulating each other on their deliverance.

A sheltered cove was soon found, far enough removed from cliffs and pinnacles to insure moderate safety. Into this they ran, and there they spent the night, serenaded by the roaring gale, and lullabied by the crash of falling spires and the groans of rending ice.


CHAPTER FOURTEEN.


RECORDS A WONDERFUL APPARITION BUT A FURIOUS NIGHT.

When the storm had passed, a profound calm once more settled down on the face of nature, as if the elements had been utterly exhausted by the conflict. Once more the sea became like a sheet of undulating glass, in which clouds and sun and boats were reflected vividly, and once again our voyagers found themselves advancing towards the north, abreast of each other, and rowing sociably together at the rate of about four miles an hour.

When advancing under oars they went thus abreast so as to converse freely, but when proceeding under kites they kept in single file, so as to give scope for swerving, in the event of sudden change of wind, and to prevent the risk of the entanglement of lines.

"What is that?" exclaimed Benjy, pointing suddenly to an object ahead which appeared at regular intervals on the surface of the water.

"A whale, I think," said Leo.

"A whale usually spouts on coming up, doesn't it?" said Alf.

Chingatok uttered an unpronounceable Eskimo word which did not throw light on the subject.

"What is it, Anders?" shouted the Captain.

"What you say?" asked the interpreter from Alf's boat, which was on the other side of the _Hope_.

"If these squawkin' things would hold their noise, you'd hear better," growled the Captain before repeating the question.

His uncourteous remark had reference to a cloud of gulls which circled round and followed the boats with remonstrative cries and astonished looks.

"It's beast," shouted Anders, "not knows his name in Ingliss."

"Humph! a man with half an eye might see it is `beast,'" retorted the Captain in an undertone.

As he spoke, the "beast" changed its course and bore down upon them. As it drew near the Englishmen became excited, for the size of the creature seemed beyond anything they had yet seen. Strange to say, the Eskimos looked at it with their wonted gaze of calm indifference.

"It's the great sea-serpent at last," said Benjy, with something like awe on his countenance.

"It does look uncommon like it," replied the Captain, with a perplexed expression on his rugged visage. "Get out the rifles, lad! It's as well to be ready. D'ye know what it is, Chingatok?"

Again the giant uttered the unpronounceable name, while Benjy got out the fire-arms with eager haste.

"Load 'em all, Ben, load 'em all, an' cram the Winchester to the muzzle," said the Captain. "There's no sayin' what we may have to encounter; though I _have_ heard of a gigantic bit of seaweed bein' mistaken for the great sea-serpent before now."

"That may be, father," said Benjy, with increasing excitement, "but nobody ever saw a bit of seaweed swim with the activity of a gigantic eel like _that_. Why, I have counted its coils as they rise and sink, and I'm quite sure it's a hundred and fifty yards long if it's an inch."

Those in the other boats were following the Captain's example,--getting out and charging the fire-arms,--and truly there seemed some ground for their alarm, for the creature, which approached at a rapid rate, appeared most formidable. Yet, strange to say, the Eskimos paid little attention to it, and seemed more taken up with the excitement of the white men.

When the creature had approached to within a quarter of a mile, it diverged a little to the left, and passed the boats at the distance of a few hundred yards. Then Captain Vane burst into a sudden laugh, and shouted:--

"Grampuses!"

"What?" cried Leo.

"Grampuses!" repeated the Captain. "Why, it's only a shoal of grampuses following each other in single file, that we've mistaken for one creature!"

Never before was man or boy smitten with heavier disappointment than was poor Benjy Vane on that trying occasion.

"Why, what's wrong with you, Benjy?" asked his father, as he looked at his woeful countenance.

"To think," said the poor boy, slowly, "that I've come all the way to the North Pole for _this_! Why I've believed in the great sea-serpent since ever I could think, I've seen pictures of it twisting its coils round three-masted ships, and goin' over the ocean with a mane like a lion, and its head fifty feet out o' the water! Oh! it's too bad, I'd have given my ears to have seen the great sea-serpent."

"There wouldn't have been much of you left, Benjy, if you had given _them_."

"Well, well," continued the boy, not noticing his father's remark, "it's some comfort to know that I've all _but_ seen the great sea-serpent."

It is some comfort to us, reader, to be able to record the fact that Benjy Vane was not doomed to total disappointment on that memorable day, for, on the same evening, the voyagers had an encounter with walruses which more than made up for the previous misfortune.

It happened thus:--

The three boats were proceeding abreast, slowly but steadily over the still calm sea, when their attention was attracted by a sudden and tremendous splash or upheaval of water, just off what the Captain styled his "port bow." At the same moment the head of a walrus appeared on the surface like a gigantic black bladder. It seemed to be as large as the head of