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

Mivins instantly dived down below, as the sailors express it; and we may remark, in passing, that the expression, in this particular case, was not inappropriate, for Mivins, as we have elsewhere said, was remarkably agile and supple, and gave beholders a sort of impression that he went head-foremost at everything. O’Riley followed at a more reasonable rate, and in a few minutes the crew of the Dolphin were seated at supper in the cabin, eating with as much zest, and laughing and chatting as blithely as if they were floating calmly on their ocean home in temperate climes. Sailors are proverbially lighthearted, and in their moments of comfort and social enjoyment they easily forget their troubles. The depression of spirits that followed the first disappearance of the sun soon wore off, and they went about their various avocations cheerfully by the light of the Aurora Borealis and the stars.

The cabin, in which they now all lived together, had undergone considerable alterations. After the return of Fred Ellice and the hunting-party, whom we left on the ice-belt in the last chapter, the bulk-head, or partition, which separated the cabin from the hold, had been taken down, and the whole was thrown into one large apartment, in order to secure a freer circulation of air and warmth. All round the walls inside of this apartment moss was piled to the depth of twelve inches to exclude the cold, and this object was further gained by the spreading of a layer of moss on the deck above. The cabin hatchway was closed, and the only entrance was at the farther end, through the hold, by means of a small doorway in the bulkhead, to which was attached a sort of porch, with a curtain of deer-skins hung in front of it. In the centre of the floor stood an iron cooking-stove, which served at once the purpose of preparing food and warming the cabin, which was lighted by several small oil-lamps. These were kept burning perpetually, for there was no distinction between day and night in midwinter, either in the cabin or out-of-doors.

In this snug-looking place the officers and men of the ship messed, and dwelt, and slept together; but, notwithstanding the apparent snugness, it was with the greatest difficulty they could keep themselves in a sufficient degree of warmth to maintain health and comfort. Whenever the fire was allowed to get low, the beams overhead became coated with hoar-frost; and even when the temperature was raised to the utmost possible pitch it was cold enough, at the extreme ends of the apartment, to freeze a jug of water solid.

A large table occupied the upper end of the cabin, between the stove and the stern, and round this the officers and crew were seated, when O’Riley entered and took his place among them. Each individual had his appointed place at the mess-table, and with unvarying regularity these places were filled at the appointed hours.

“The dogs seem to be disobedient,” remarked Amos Parr, as his comrade sat down; “they’d be the better of a taste o’ Meetuck’s cat I think.”

“It’s truth ye’re sayin’,” replied O’Riley, commencing a violent assault on a walrus steak; “they don’t obey orders at all, at all. An’ Dumps, the blaggard, is as cross-grained as me grandmother’s owld pig—”

A general laugh here interrupted the speaker, for O’Riley could seldom institute a disparaging comparison without making emphatic allusion to the pig that once shared with him the hospitalities of his grandmother’s cabin.

“Why, everything you speak of seems to be like that wonderful pig, messmate,” said Peter Grim.

“Ye’re wrong there intirely,” retorted O’Riley. “I niver seed nothing like it in all me thravels except yerself, and that only in regard to its muzzle, which was black and all kivered over with bristles, it wos. I’ll throuble for another steak, messmate; that walrus is great livin’. We owe ye thanks for killin’ it, Mister Ellice.”

“You’re fishing for compliments, but I’m afraid I have none to give you. Your first harpoon, you know, was a little wide of the mark, if I recollect right, wasn’t it?”

“Yis, it wos—about as wide as the first bullet. I misremember exactly who fired it; wos it you, Meetuck?”

Meetuck, being deeply engaged with a junk of fat meat at that moment expressed all he had to say in a convulsive gasp, without interrupting his supper.

“Try a bit of the bear,” said Fred to Tom Singleton; “it’s better than the walrus to my taste.”

“I’d rather not,” answered Tom, with a dubious shake of the head.

“It’s a most unconscionable thing to eat a beast o’ that sort,” remarked Saunders gravely.

“Especially one who has been in the habit of living on raisins and sticking-plaster,” said Bolton with a grin.

“I have been thinking about that,” said Captain Guy, who had been for some time listening in silence to the conversation, “and I cannot help thinking that Esquimaux must have found a wreck somewhere in this neighbourhood, and carried away her stores, which Bruin had managed to steal from them.”

“May they not have got some of the stores of the brig we saw nipped some months ago?” suggested Singleton.

“Possibly they may.”

“I dinna think that’s likely,” said Saunders, shaking his head. “Yon brig had been deserted long ago, and her stores must have been consumed, if they were taken out of her at all, before we thought o’ comin’ here.”

For some time the party in the cabin ate in silence.

“We must wait patiently,” resumed the captain, as if he were tired of following up a fruitless train of thought. “What of your theatricals, Fred? we must get them set a-going as soon as possible.”

The captain spoke animatedly, for he felt that, with the prospect of a long dark winter before them, it was of the greatest importance that the spirits of the men should be kept up.

“I find it difficult to beat up recruits,” answered Fred, laughing; “Peter Grim has flatly refused to act, and O’Riley says he could no more learn a part off by heart than—”

“His grandmother’s pig could,” interrupted David Mizzle, who, having concluded supper, now felt himself free to indulge in conversation.

“Och! ye spalpeen,” whispered the Irishman.

“I have written out the half of a play which I hope to produce in a few days on the boards of our Arctic theatre with a talented company, but I must have one or two more men—one to act the part of a lady. Will you take that part, Buzzby?”

“Wot! me?” cried the individual referred to with a stare of amazement.

“Oh yes! do, Buzzby,” cried several of the men with great delight. “You’re just cut out for it.”

“Blue eyes,” said one.

“Fair hair,” cried another.

“And plump,” said a third.

“Wid cheeks like the hide of a walrus,” cried O’Riley; “but, sure, it won’t show wid a veil on.”

“Come, now, you won’t refuse.”

But Buzzby did refuse; not, however, so determinedly but that he was induced at last to allow his name to be entered in Fred’s note-book as a supernumerary.

“Hark!” cried the captain; “surely the dogs must have smelt a bear.”

There was instantly a dead silence in the cabin, and a long, loud wail from the dogs was heard outside.

“It’s not like their usual cry when game is near,” said the second mate.

“Hand me my rifle, Mivins,” said the captain, springing up and pulling forward the hood of his jumper, as he hurried on deck followed by the crew.

It was a bright, still, frosty night, and the air felt intensely sharp, as if needles were pricking the skin, while the men’s breath issued from their lips in white clouds, and settled in hoar-frost on the edges of their hoods. The dogs were seen galloping about the ice hummocks as if in agitation, darting off to a considerable distance at times, and returning with low whines to the ship.

“It is very strange,” remarked the captain. “Jump down on the ice, boys, and search for footprints. Extend as far as Store Island and see that all is right there.”

In a few seconds the men scattered themselves right and left, and were lost in the gloom, while the vessel was left in charge of Mivins and four men. A strict search was made in all directions, but no traces of animals could be found; the stores on the island were found undisturbed, and gradually the dogs ceased their agitated gyrations and seemed inclined to resume their slumbers on the ice.

Seeing this, and supposing that they were merely restless, Captain Guy recalled his men, and, not long after, every man in the cabin of the Dolphin was buried in profound slumber.