The World of Ice by Robert Michael Ballantyne (best manga ereader .txt) 📕

in his belt, "six men are enough; let twelve of the remainder follow on foot. Jump on the sledge, Grim and Buzzby; O'Riley, you go too. Have a Care, Fred; not too near the front. Now, Meetuck--"

One crack of the long whip terminated the sentence as if with a full stop, and in another moment the sledge was bounding over the snow like a feather at the tails of twelve dogs.

It was a long chase, for it was a "stern" one, but the Esquimaux never dreamed of-pursuit, and as their dogs were not too well fed they had progressed rather slowly. In less than two hours they were distinguished on the horizon far off to the southward, winding their way among the hummocks.

"Now, Meetuck," said the captain, "drive like the wind, and lay me alongside of Awatok's sledge;--and be ready, men, to act."

"Ay, ay, sir," Was the prompt reply, as the heavy whip fell on the flanks of the leaders.

A few minutes brought them up with Awatok's sledge, and Captain Guy, leaping upon it with a clasp-knife in his hand, cut the traces in a twinkling, set the dogs free, and turning round, seized the Esquimau by the collar. The big chief at first showed a disposition to resent this unceremonious treatment, but before he could move Grim seized his elbows in his iron grasp, and tied them adroitly together behind his back with a cord. At the same time poor Aninga and her baby were swiftly transferred to the sailors' sledge.

Seeing this, the whole band of natives turned back and rushed in a body to the rescue, flourishing their lances and yelling fiercely.

"Form line!" shouted the captain, handing Awatok and Aninga over to the care of O'Riley. "Three of you on the right fire over their heads, and let the rest reserve their fire. I will kill one of their dogs, for it won't do to let them fancy that nothing but noise comes out of our muskets. Ready--present!"

A rattling volley followed, and at the same moment one of the dogs fell with a death-yell on the ice, and dyed it with its blood.

"Forward!" shouted the captain.

The men advanced in a body at a smart run; but the terrified Esquimaux, who had never heard the report of fire-arms before, did not wait for them. They turned and fled precipitately, but not before Grim captured Oosuck, and dragged him forcibly to the rear, where he was pinioned and placed on the sledge with the others.

"Now, then, lads, that will do; get upon the sledge again. Away with you, Meetuck.--Look after Awatok, Grim; O'Riley will see that Aninga does not jump off."

"That he will, darlint," said the Irishman, patting the woman on the back.

"And I shall look after the baby," said Fred, chucking that series of dumplings under the chin--an act of familiarity that seemed to afford it immense satisfaction, for, notwithstanding the melancholy position of its father and mother as prisoners, it smiled on Fred benignly.

In five minutes the party were far on their way back to the ship, and in less than five hours after the Esquimaux had closed their barter and left for their village, four of their number, including the baby, were close prisoners in the _Dolphin's_ hold. It was not Captain Guy's intention, however, to use unnecessarily harsh means for the recovery of the missing articles. His object was to impress the Esquimaux with a salutary sense of the power, promptitude, and courage of Europeans, and to check at the outset their propensity for thieving. Having succeeded in making two of their chief men prisoners, he felt assured that the lost telescope and hatchet would soon make their appearance; and in this he was not mistaken. Going to the hold where the prisoners sat with downcast looks, he addressed to them a lengthened speech as to the sin and meanness of stealing in general, and of stealing from those who had been kind to them in particular. He explained to them the utter hopelessness of their attempting to deceive or impose upon the white men in any way whatever, and assured them that if they tried that sort of thing again he would punish them severely; but that if they behaved well, and brought plenty of walrus-flesh to the ship, he would give them hoop-iron, beads, looking-glasses, etc. These remarks seemed to make a considerable impression on his uncouth hearers.

"And now," said the captain in conclusion, "I shall keep Awatok and his wife and child prisoners here, until my telescope and hatchet are returned [Awatok's visage fell, and his wife looked stolid], and I shall send Oosuck to his tribe [Oosuck's face lit up amazingly] to tell them what I have said."

In accordance with this resolve Oosuck was set free, and, making use of his opportunity, with prompt alacrity he sped away on foot over the ice to the southward, and was quickly lost to view.


CHAPTER XVI.


The Arctic Theatre enlarged upon--Great success of the first play--The Esquimaux submit, and become fast friends.

The 1st of December was a great day on board the _Dolphin_, for on that day it was announced to the crew that "The Arctic Theatre" would be opened, under the able management of Mr. F. Ellice, with the play of "Blunderbore; or, the Arctic Giant." The bill, of which two copies were issued gratis to the crew, announced that the celebrated Peter Grim, Esq., who had so long trodden the boards of the _Dolphin,_ with unparalleled success, had kindly consented to appear in the character of _Blunderbore_ for one winter only. The other parts were as follows:--_Whackinta,_ a beautiful Esquimau widow, who had been captured by two Polar bears, both of which were deeply in love with her, by Frederick Ellice, Esq. _First Bear,_ a big one, by Terrence O'Riley, Esq. _Second Bear_, a little one, by David Summers, Esq. _Ben Bolt_, a brave British seaman, who had been wrecked in Blunderbore's desolate dominions, all the crew having perished except himself, by John Buzzby, Esq. These constituted the various characters of the piece, the name of which had been kept a profound secret from the crew until the morning of the day on which it was acted.

Fred's duties, as manager and author, upon this occasion were by no means light, for his troop, being unaccustomed to study, found the utmost difficulty in committing the simplest sentences to memory. O'Riley turned out to be the sharpest among them, but having agreed to impersonate the First Bear, and having to act his part in dumb show--bears not being supposed capable of speech--his powers of memory had not to be exerted. Grim was also pretty good; but Davie Summers could not be got to remember even the general arrangements of the piece; and as for Buzzby, he no sooner mastered a line than he forgot the one before it, and almost gave it up in despair. But by dint of much study and many rehearsals in secret, under the superintendence of Fred, and Tom Singleton, who undertook to assist, they succeeded at last in going through it with only a few mistakes.

On the morning of the 1st December, while the most of the crew were away at Red-Snow Valley cutting moss, Fred collected his _corps dramatique_ for a last rehearsal in the forecastle, where they were secure from interruption, the place being so cold that no one would willingly go into it except under the force of necessity. A dim lantern lit up the apartment faintly.

"We must do it without a mistake this time," said Fred Ellice, opening his book, and calling upon Grim to begin.

"'Tis cold," began Grim.

"Stop, you're wrong."

"Oh! so I am," cried Grim, slapping his thigh, "I'll begin again."

It may be remarked here, that although Blunderbore was supposed to be an Esquimau monarch, he was compelled to speak English, being unfortunately ignorant--if we may so speak--of his native tongue!

"Oh! 'tis a dismal thing," began Grim again, "to dwell in solitude and cold! 'Tis very cold [Grim shuddered here tremendously], and--and--(what's next?)"

"Hunger," said Fred.

"Hunger gnaws my vitals. My name is Blunderbore. 'Twere better had I been born a Blunder_buss_, 'cause then I'd have _gone off_ and dwelt in climes more shootable to my tender constitoosion. Ha! is that a bear I sees before me?"

"It's not _sees_," interrupted Fred.

At this moment a tremendous roar was heard, and O'Riley bounded from behind a top-sail, which represented an iceberg, dressed from head to foot in the skin of a white bear which had been killed a few days before.

"Stop, O'Riley," cried Fred; "you're too soon, man. _I_ have to come on first as an Esquimau woman, and when Grim says to the woman he wishes he could see a bear, _then_ you are to come."

"Och! whirra, but me brains is confuged intirely wid it all," said O'Riley, rising on his hind legs, and walking off with his tail, literally as well as figuratively, between his legs.

"Now, Buzzby, now; it's _your_ time. When you hear the word 'misery,' come on and fight like a Trojan with the bears. The doctor will remind you."

Fred was remarkably patient and painstaking, and his pupils, though not apt scholars, were willing, so that the morning rehearsal was gone through with fewer mistakes than might have been expected; and when the crew came back to dinner about mid-day, which, however, was as dark as midnight, their parts were sufficiently well got up, and nothing remained to be done but to arrange the stage and scenery for the evening's entertainment--it having been resolved that the performance should commence after supper. The stage was at the after part of the cabin, and raised about a foot above the deck; and its management had been intrusted to the doctor, who, assisted by Peter Grim, transformed that portion of the ship into a scene so romantically beautiful that the first sight of it petrified the crew with surprise. But until the curtain should rise all arrangements were carefully concealed from every one except the _dramatis personae_. Even the captain and officers were forbidden to peep behind the sail that formed a curtain to the stage; and this secrecy, besides being necessary, was extremely useful, inasmuch as it excited the curiosity of the men, and afforded them food for converse and speculation for a week before the great day arrived.

The longed-for hour came at last. The cabin tables having been removed, and rows of seats placed in front of the stage, the men were admitted from the deck, to which they had been expelled an hour previous in order not to impede preliminary arrangements. There was great joking, of course, as they took their seats and criticised the fittings up. David Mizzle was of opinion that the foot-lights "wos oncommon grand," which was an unquestionable fact, for they consisted of six tin lamps filled with seal-oil, from the wicks of which rose a compound of yellow flame and smoke that had a singularly luminous effect. Amos Parr guessed that the curtain would be certain sure to get jammed at the first haul, and several of the others were convinced that O'Riley would stick his part in one way or another. However, an end was put to all remarks and expectation raised on tip-toe by the ringing of a small hand-bell, and immediately thereafter a violent pulling at the curtain which concealed the stage. But the curtain remained immovable (they always do on such occasions), and a loud whispering was heard behind the scenes.

"Clap on extra tackle and call all hands to hoist