The World of Ice by R. M. Ballantyne (digital e reader TXT) 📕

them, Dumps and Poker leading, and looking as lively as crickets.

“Well now, isn’t it true that wits jump?—that’s jist what I was sayin’ to meself,” remarked O’Riley, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled the fur hood farther over his head, crossed his arms more firmly on his breast, and tried to double himself up as he sat there like an overgrown rat. “I wouldn’t exchange it with the Lord Mayor o’ London and his coach an’ six—so I wouldn’t. Arrah! have a care, Meetuck, ye baste, or ye’ll have us kilt.”

This last exclamation was caused by the reckless driver dashing over a piece of rough ice that nearly capsized the sledge. Meetuck did not answer, but he looked over his shoulder with a quiet smile on his oily countenance.

“Ah, then, ye may laugh!” said O’Riley, with a menacing look, “but av ye break a bone o’ me body I’ll—”

Down went the dogs into a crack in the ice as he spoke, over went the sledge, and hurled them all out upon the ice.

“Musha! but ye’ve done it!”

“Hallo, West, are you hurt?” cried Fred anxiously, as he observed the sailor fall heavily on the ice.

“Oh no, sir; all right, thank you!” replied the man, rising alertly and limping to the sledge. “Only knocked the skin off my shin, sir.”

West was a quiet, serious, polite man, an American by birth, who was much liked by the crew in consequence of a union of politeness and modesty with a disposition to work far beyond his strength. He was not very robust, however, and in powers of physical endurance scarcely fitted to engage in an Arctic expedition.

“An’ don’t ye think it’s worth makin’ enquiries about me?” cried O’Riley, who had been tossed into a crevice in a hummock, where he lay jammed and utterly unable to move.

Fred and the Esquimaux laughed heartily, while O’Riley extricated himself from his awkward position. Fortunately no damage was done, and in five minutes they were flying over the frozen sea as madly as ever in the direction of the point at the opposite side of Red-snow Valley, where a cloud of frost-smoke indicated open water.

“Now, look you, Mr Meetuck, av ye do that again ye’ll better don’t, let me tell ye. Sure the back o’ me’s track entirely,” said O’Riley, as he rearranged himself with a look of comfort that belied his words. “Och, there ye go again,” he cried, as the sled suddenly fell about six inches, from a higher level to a lower, where the floe had cracked, causing the teeth of the whole party to come together with a snap. “A man dursen’t spake for fear o’ bitin’ his tongue off.”

“No fee,” said Meetuck, looking over his shoulder with a broader smirk.

“No fee, ye lump of pork! it’s a double fee I’ll have to pay the dacter an ye go on like that.”

No fee was Meetuck’s best attempt at the words no fear. He had picked up a little English during his brief sojourn with the sailors, and already understood much of what was said to him, but words were as yet few, and his manner of pronouncing them peculiar.

“Holo! look! look!” cried the Esquimaux, leaping suddenly off the sledge and checking the dogs.

“Eh! what! where?” ejaculated Fred, seizing his musket.

“I think I see something, sir,” cried West, shading his eyes with his hand, and gazing earnestly in the direction indicated by Meetuck.

“So do I, be the mortial!” said O’Riley in a hoarse whisper. “I see the mountains and the sky, I do, as plain as the nose on me face!”

“Hush! stop your nonsense, man,” said Fred. “I see a deer, I’m certain of it.”

Meetuck nodded violently to indicate that Fred was right.

“Well, what’s to be done? luckily we are well to leeward, and it has neither sighted nor scented us.”

Meetuck replied by gestures and words to the effect that West and O’Riley should remain with the dogs, and keep them quiet, under the shelter of a hummock, while he and Fred should go after the reindeer. Accordingly, away they went making a pretty long détour in order to gain the shore, and come upon it under the shelter of the grounded floes, behind which they might approach without being seen. In hurrying along the coast they observed the footprints of a musk ox, and also of several Arctic hares and foxes, which delighted them much, for hitherto they had seen none of those animals, and were beginning to be fearful lest they should not visit that part of the coast at all. Of course Fred knew not what sort of animals had made the tracks in question, but he was an adept at guessing, and the satisfied looks of his companion gave him reason to believe that he was correct in his surmises.

In half an hour they came within range, and Fred, after debating with himself for some time as to the propriety of taking the first shot, triumphed over himself, and, stepping back a pace, motioned to the Esquimaux to fire. But Meetuck was an innate gentleman, and modestly declined, so Fred advanced, took a good aim, and fired.

The deer bounded away, but stumbled as it went, showing that it was wounded.

“Ha! ha! Meetuck,” exclaimed Fred, as he recharged in tremendous excitement (taking twice as long to load in consequence), “I’ve improved a little you see in my shoot—, o’ bother this—ramrod!—tut! tut! there, that’s it.”

Bang went Meetuck’s musket at that moment, and the deer tumbled over upon the snow.

“Well done, old fellow!” cried Fred, springing forward. At the same instant a white hare darted across his path, at which he fired, without even putting the gun to his shoulder, and knocked it over, to his own intense amazement.

The three shots were the signal for the men to come up with the sledge, which they did at full gallop, O’Riley driving, and flourishing the long whip about in a way that soon entangled it hopelessly with the dogs’ traces.

“Ah, then, ye’ve done it this time, ye have, sure enough! Musha! what a purty crature it is. Now, isn’t it, West? Stop, then, won’t ye (to the restive dogs), ye’ve broke my heart entirely, and the whip’s tied up into iver so many knots. Arrah, Meetuck! ye may drive yer coach yerself for me, you may; I’ve had more nor enough of it.”

In a few minutes the deer and the hare were lashed to the sledge—which the Irishman asserted was a great improvement, inasmuch as the carcass of the former made an excellent seat—and they were off again at full gallop over the floes. They travelled without further interruption or mishap until they drew near to the open water, when suddenly they came upon a deep fissure or crack in the ice, about four feet wide, with water in the bottom. Here they came to a dead stop.

“Arrah! what’s to be done now?” enquired O’Riley.

“Indeed I don’t know,” replied Fred, looking toward Meetuck for advice.

“Hup, cut-up ice, mush, hurroo!” said that fat individual. Fortunately he followed his advice with a practical illustration of its meaning. Seizing an axe he ran to the nearest hummock, and, chopping it down, rolled the heaviest pieces he could move into the chasm. The others followed his example, and, in the course of an hour, the place was bridged across, and the sledge passed over. But the dogs required a good deal of coaxing to get them to trust to this rude bridge, which their sagacity taught them was not to be depended on like the works of nature.

A quarter of an hour’s drive brought them to a place where there was another crack of little more than two feet across. Meetuck stretched his neck and took a steady look at this as they approached it at full gallop. Being apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, he resumed his look of self-satisfied placidity.

“Look out, Meetuck, pull up!” cried Fred in some alarm; but the Esquimaux paid no attention.

“O morther, we’re gone now, for iver,” exclaimed O’Riley, shutting his eyes and clenching his teeth as he laid fast hold of the sides of the sledge.

The feet of the dogs went faster and faster until they pattered on the hard surface of the snow like rain. Round came the long whip, as O’Riley said, “like the shot of a young cannon,” and the next moment they were across, skimming over the ice on the other side like the wind.

It happened that there had been a break in the ice at this point on the previous night, and the floes had been cemented by a sheet of ice only an inch thick. Upon this, to the consternation even of Meetuck himself, they now passed, and in a moment, ere they were aware, they were passing over a smooth, black surface that undulated beneath them like the waves of the sea and crackled fearfully. There was nothing for it but to go on. A moment’s halt would have allowed the sledge to break through and leave them struggling in the water. There was no time for remark. Each man held his breath. Meetuck sent the heavy lash with a tremendous crack over the backs of the whole team, but just as they neared the solid floe, the left runner broke through. In a moment the men flung themselves horizontally upon their breasts, and scrambled over the smooth surface until they gained the white ice, while the sledge and the dogs nearest to it were sinking. One vigorous pull, however, by dogs and men together, dragged the sledge upon the solid floe, even before the things in it had got wet.

“Safe!” cried Fred, as he hauled on the sledge rope to drag it farther out of danger.

“So we are,” replied O’Riley, breathing very hard, “and it’s meself thought to have had a wet skin at this minute. Come, West, lind a hand to fix the dogs, will ye?”

A few minutes sufficed to put all to rights and enable them to start afresh. Being now in the neighbourhood of dangerous ice, they advanced with a little more caution; the possibility of seals being in the neighbourhood also rendered them more circumspect. It was well that they were on the alert, for a band of seals were soon after descried in a pool of open water not far ahead, and one of them was lying on the ice.

There were no hummocks, however, in the neighbourhood to enable them to approach unseen; but the Esquimaux was prepared for such a contingency. He had brought a small sledge, of about two feet in length by a foot and a half in breadth, which he now unfastened from the large sledge, and proceeded quietly to arrange it, to the surprise of his companions, who had not the least idea what he was about to do, and watched his proceedings with much interest.

“Is it to sail on the ice ye’re goin’, boy?” enquired O’Riley, at last, when he saw Meetuck fix a couple of poles, about four feet long, into a hole in the little sledge, like two masts, and upon these spread a piece of canvas upwards of a yard square, with a small hole in the centre of it. But Meetuck answered not. He fastened the canvas “sail” to a cross-yard above and below. Then, placing a harpoon and coil of rope on the sledge, and taking up his musket, he made signs to the party to keep under the cover of a hummock, and, pushing the sledge before him, advanced towards the seals in a stooping posture, so as to be completely hid behind the bit of canvas.

“Oh the haythen, I see it now!” exclaimed O’Riley, his face puckering up with fun. “Ah, but it’s a cliver trick, no doubt of it!”

“What a capital dodge!” said Fred, crouching behind the hummock, and watching the movements of the Esquimaux with deep interest.

“West, hand me the little telescope; you’ll find it in the pack.”

“Here it is, sir,” said