CHAPTER TWENTY.
KEEPING IT DOWN--MUTUAL EXPLANATIONS--DEATH--NEW-YEAR'S DAY.
It need scarcely be said that the sailors outside did not remain long inignorance of the unexpected and happy discovery related in the lastchapter. Bolton, who had crept in after Fred, with proper delicacy offeeling retired the moment he found how matters stood, and left fatherand son to expend, in the privacy of that chamber of snow, thosefeelings and emotions which can be better imagined than described.
The first impulse of the men was to give three cheers, but Boltonchecked them in the bud.
"No, no, lads. We must hold on," he said in an eager but subdued voice."Doubtless it would be pleasant to vent our feelings in a hearty cheer,but it would startle the old gentleman inside. Get along with you, andlet us get ready a good supper."
"Oh morther!" exclaimed O'Riley, holding on to his sides as if hebelieved what he said, "me biler'll bust av ye don't let me screech."
"Squeeze down the safety-valve a bit longer, then," cried Bolton, asthey hurried along with the whole population to the outskirts of thevillage. "Now, then, ye may fire away; they won't hear ye--Huzza!"
A long enthusiastic cheer distantly burst from the sailors, and wasimmediately followed by a howl of delight from the Esquimaux, whocapered round their visitors with uncouth gestures and grinning faces.
Entering one of the largest huts, preparations for supper were promptlybegun. The Esquimaux happened to be well supplied with walrus flesh, sothe lamps were replenished, and the hiss of the frying steaks anddropping fat speedily rose above all other sounds.
Meanwhile Fred and his father, having mutually recovered somewhat oftheir wonted composure, began to tell each other the details of theiradventures since they last met, while the former prepared a cup ofcoffee and a steak for their mutual comfort.
"But, Father," said Fred, busying himself at the lamp, "you have not yettold me how you came here, and what has become of the _Pole Star_, andhow it was that one of your men came to be buried in the Esquimauxfashion, and how you got your leg broken?"
"Truly, Fred, I have not told you all that; and to give it you all indetail will afford us many a long hour of converse hereafter, if itplease God, whose tenderness and watchful care of me has never failed.But I can give you a brief outline of it thus:--
"I got into Baffin's Bay and made a good fishing of it the first year,but was beset in the ice and compelled to spend two winters in theseregions. The third year we were liberated, and had almost got fairly onour homeward voyage, when a storm blew us to the north, and carried usup here. Then our good brig was nipped and went to the bottom, and allthe crew were lost except myself and one man. We succeeded in leapingfrom one piece of loose ice to another until we reached the solid floeand gained the land, where we were kindly received by the Esquimaux.But poor Wilson did not survive long. His constitution had never beenrobust, and he died of consumption a week after we landed. TheEsquimaux buried him after their own fashion, and, as I afterwardsfound, had buried a plate and a spoon along with him. These, withseveral other articles, had been washed ashore from the wreck. Sincethen I have been living the life of an Esquimaux, awaiting anopportunity of escape, either by a ship making its appearance or a tribeof natives travelling south. I soon picked up their language, and wasliving in comparative comfort when, during a sharp fight I chanced tohave with a Polar bear, I fell and broke my leg. I have lain here formany months and have suffered much, Fred; but, thank God, I am nowalmost well, and can walk a little, though not yet without pain."
"Dear Father," said Fred, "_how_ terribly you must have felt the want ofkind hands to nurse you during those dreary months, and how lonely youmust have been!"
It were impossible here to enter minutely into the details of all thatCaptain Ellice related to Fred during the next few days, while theyremained together in the Esquimaux village. To tell of the dangers, theadventures, and the hairbreadth escapes that the crew of the _Pole Star_went through before the vessel finally went down would require a wholevolume. We must pass it all over, and also the account of the few daysthat followed, during which sundry walrus were captured, and return tothe _Dolphin_, to which Captain Ellice had been conveyed on the sledge,carefully wrapped up in deer-skins and tended by Fred.
A party of the Esquimaux accompanied them, and as a number of thenatives from the other village had returned with Saunders and his men tothe ship, the scene she presented, when all parties were united, wasexceedingly curious and animated.
The Esquimaux soon built quite a little town of snow-huts all round the_Dolphin_, and the noise of traffic and intercourse was peculiarlyrefreshing to the ears of those who had long been accustomed to thedeath-like stillness of an Arctic winter. The beneficial effect of thechange on men and dogs was instantaneous. Their spirits rose at once,and this, with the ample supply of fresh meat that had been procured,soon began to drive scurvy away.
There was one dark spot, however, in this otherwise pleasant scene--oneimpending event that cast a gloom over all. In his narrow berth in thecabin Joseph West lay dying. Scurvy had acted more rapidly on hisdelicate frame than had been expected. Despite Tom Singleton's utmostefforts and skill the fell disease gained the mastery, and it soonbecame evident that this hearty and excellent man was to be taken awayfrom them.
During the last days of his illness Captain Ellice was his greatestcomfort and his constant companion.
It was on Christmas-day that West died.
Next day the body of Joseph West was put in a plain deal coffin andconveyed to Store Island, where it was placed on the ground. They hadno instruments that could penetrate the hard rock, so were obliged toconstruct a tomb of stones, after the manner of the Esquimaux, underwhich the coffin was laid and left in solitude.
New-year's Day came, and preparations were made to celebrate the daywith the usual festivities. But the recent death had affected the crewtoo deeply to allow them to indulge in the unrestrained hilarity of thatseason. Prayers were read in the morning, and both Captain Guy andCaptain Ellice addressed the men feelingly in allusion to their lateshipmate's death and their own present position. A good dinner was alsoprepared, and several luxuries served out, among which were thematerials for the construction of a large plum-pudding. But no grog wasallowed, and they needed it not. As the afternoon advanced, storieswere told, and even songs were sung, but these were of a quiet kind, andthe men seemed, from an innate feeling of propriety, to suit them to theoccasion. Old friends were recalled, and old familiar scenes described.The hearths of home were spoken of with a depth of feeling that showedhow intense was the longing to be seated round them again, and futureprospects were canvassed with keen interest and with hopeful voices.New year's Day came and went, and when it was gone the men of the_Dolphin_ did not say, "What a jolly day it was!" They _said_ little ornothing, but, long after, they _thought_ of it as a bright spot in theirdreary winter in the Bay of Mercy--as a day in which they had enjoyedearnest, glad, and sober communings of heart.