Red Rooney by Robert Michael Ballantyne (best sci fi novels of all time txt) 📕

off trying. You may all be thankful that the ice does not burst up and crush you; that the sky does not fall upon you; that the great sea does not roll its maddest waves over you. Up, all of you--Begone!"

Rooney finished off with a roar so deep and fearsome that the very rafters trembled. A pile of wood, stones, and earthenware, previously prepared for the purpose, was tipped over, and fell with a most awful crash. At the same moment the seaman culminated in a falsetto shriek that might have shamed a steam whistle.

It was enough. Had the tunnel entrance of the hut been long and strong, suffocation to many must have been the result, for they went into it pell-mell, rolling rather than running. Fortunately, it was short and weak. Ujarak and Simek, sticking in it, burst it up, and swept it away, thus clearing the passage for the rest. The last to disappear was Kunelik, whose tail flapped on the door-post like a small pistol-shot as she doubled round it and scrambled out, leaving Rooney, Angut, Kannoa, and Ippegoo to enjoy the situation.


CHAPTER FIFTEEN.


A GREAT SINGING DUEL INTERRUPTED BY A CATASTROPHE.

When the lamps were rekindled by Kannoa, it was discovered that the old lady's nostrils were twitching and her throat contracting in a remarkable manner, with smothered laughter. Very different was the condition of Ippegoo, who still lay bound in the middle of the room. Fear and surprise in equal proportions seemed to have taken possession of him. Rooney, having dropped the bear-skin, approached him, while Angut stood beside the lamp looking on with a sort of serious smile.

"Now, Ippegoo," said the sailor, stooping and cutting his bonds, "I set you free. It is to be hoped also that I have freed you from superstition."

"But where is the bear-angekok?" asked the bewildered youth.

"I am the bear-angekok."

"Impossible!" cried Ippegoo.

To this Rooney replied by going back to his bear-skin, spreading it over himself, getting on a stool so as to tower upwards, spreading out his long arms, and saying in his deepest bass tones--

"Now, Ippegoo, do you believe me?"

A gleam of intelligence flashed on the youth's countenance, and at that moment he became more of a wise man than he had ever before been in his life, for he not only had his eyes opened as to the ease with which some people can be deceived, but had his confidence in the infallibility of his old tyrant completely shaken. He reasoned somewhat thus--

"If Ujarak's torngak was good and true, it would have told him of the deceit about to be practised on him, and would not have allowed him to submit to disgrace. If it did not care, it was a bad spirit. If it did not know, it was no better than a man, and not worth having--so I don't want to have one, and am very glad I have escaped so well."

The poor fellow shrank from adding, "Ujarak must be a deceiver;" but he began to think that Red Rooney might not have been far wrong after all when he called him a fool.

Ippegoo was now warned that he must keep carefully out of the wizard's way, and tell no one of the deceit that had been practised. He promised most faithfully to tell no one, and then went straight home and told his mother all about it--for it never for a moment occurred to the poor fellow to imagine that he was meant to conceal it from his mother!

Fortunately Kunelik was a wise little woman. She knew how to keep her own counsel, and did not even by nod or look insinuate to any one that she was in possession of a secret.

"Now, then, Angut, what is the next thing to be done?" asked Rooney, after Ippegoo had left.

"Make Ujarak fight his duel," said Angut.

"What! the singing duel with Okiok?"

"Yes. The people have set their hearts on the thing, and Ujarak will try to escape. He will perhaps say that his torngak has told him to go hunting to-morrow. But our customs require him to keep his word. My fear is that he will sneak off in the night. He is a sly fox."

"I will stop that," said Rooney.

"How?"

"You shall see. Come with me to the hut of Ujarak."

On reaching the hut, they found its owner, as had been expected, sharpening his spears, and making other arrangements for a hunting expedition.

"When do you start?" asked Rooney.

"Immediately," replied the wizard.

"Of course _after_ the duel," remarked Angut quietly.

The wizard seemed annoyed.

"It is unfortunate," he said, with a vexed look. "My torngak has told me of a place where a great number of seals have come. They may leave soon, and it would be such a pity to lose them."

"That is true," said Angut; "but of course you cannot break our customs. It would ruin your character."

"Of course, of course I will not break the custom," returned Ujarak quickly; "unless, indeed, my torngak _orders_ me to go. But that is not likely."

"I want to ask you," said Rooney, sitting down, "about that trip you had last year to the land of the departed. They tell me you had a hard time of it, Ujarak, and barely escaped with your life."

The sly seaman had spread a net with which the wizard could at all times be easily caught. He had turned him on to a tune at which he was always willing to work with the persistency of an organ-grinder. The wizard went on hour after hour with unwearied zeal in his narrations, being incited thereto by a judicious question now and then from the seaman, when he betrayed any symptom of flagging. At last Angut, who had often heard it before, could stand it no longer, and rose to depart. Having already picked up the Kablunet's mode of salutation, he held out his hand, and said "Goo'-nite."

"Good-night, friend," returned Rooney, grasping the proffered hand. "I can't leave till I've heard the end of this most interesting story, so I'll just sleep in Ujarak's hut, if he will allow me, and thus avoid disturbing you by coming in late. Good-night."

"Goo'-nite," responded Angut, and vanished from the scene.

The wizard heaved a sigh. He perceived that his little plan of gliding away in the hours of darkness was knocked on the head, so, like a true philosopher, he resigned himself to the inevitable, and consoled himself by plunging into intricacies of fabulous adventure with a fertility of imagination which surprised even himself--so powerful is the influence of a sympathetic listener.

When Ujarak at last discovered that his guest had fallen into a profound slumber, he brought his amazing narrative to an abrupt close, and, wrapping himself in a reindeer-skin, resigned himself to that repose which was so much needed to fit him for the combat of the approaching day.

It was a brilliant sunny morning when Red Rooney awoke from a startling dream, in which he had been wrestling with monstrous creatures in the depths of ocean as well as in the bowels of the earth.

The wizard was still locked in apparently dreamless slumber. Unwilling to disturb him, the seaman glided quietly out, and clambered to the top of a cliff, whence a magnificent sea-view was revealed to his wondering gaze.

There are times when the atmosphere of this earth seems to be rarefied and freshened with celestial zephyrs, which not only half intoxicate the spirit, but intensify the powers of hearing and vision, so that gentle sounds which are very far off come floating to us, and mingle softly with those that are near at hand, while objects are seen at such immense distances that one feels as if the world itself had suddenly grown larger. To these influences were added on this occasion a sea which absolutely glittered with the icy gems that decked her calm and waveless bosom. It was not only that millions of white and glittering peaks, with facets and edges gleaming like diamonds, rose into the blue sky, but here and there open lanes of water, and elsewhere lakes and little ponds upon the melting ice caught the full orb of the rising sun, and sent its reflection into the man's eyes with dazzling refulgence, while the ripple or rush of ice-born water-falls and the plaintive cries of wild-fowl gave variety and animation to the scene. In a mind less religiously disposed than that of our seaman, the sights and sounds would have irresistibly aroused grateful thoughts to our Creator. On Rooney the effect was almost overpowering, yet, strange to say, it drew no word of thanksgiving from his lips. Clasping his hands and shutting his eyes, he muttered with bowed head the words, "God, be merciful to me a sinner!"

Perhaps the recognition of the Father's great goodness and condescension, coupled with his own absolute unworthiness, and the impulse which called those words forth, was nearly the highest act of worship which the sailor could have offered.

Far below, under the sheltering cliff, the huts of the Eskimo village could be seen like little black specks dotting the still snow-covered land; and the voices of children could be heard in faint but merry shouts and peals of laughter, as their owners, like still smaller specks, romped about. One of those specks Rooney recognised, from its intense blackness, to be his friend Tumbler, and a smaller and lighter speck he guessed to be Pussi, from the circumstance of its persistently following and keeping close to the raven-clad hero.

The pleased look with which Rooney at first regarded the children slowly passed away, and was replaced by one of profound sadness; for how could he escape dejection when he thought of a sweet Irish wife and little ones, with a dear old grandmother, whom he had left in the old country, and who must long before that time have given him up as dead?

His melancholy thoughts were dissipated by a sudden increase in the shouting of the little ones. On regarding them attentively, he observed that they scattered themselves in the direction of the several huts, and disappeared therein.

Well did Rooney know that the movement meant breakfast, and having a personal interest in that game, he left his perch and the glorious view, and hastened down.

After breakfast the entire community went with one consent to witness the singing combat. It was to take place on the ice near the scene of the recent kick-ball game, close to the berg of the sea-green cave. The people were much elated, for these savages were probably as much influenced by brilliant spring weather as civilised folk are, though not given to descant so much on their feelings. They were also in that cheerful frame of mind which results from what they correctly referred to as being stuffed; besides, much fun was expected from the contest. Lest our readers should anticipate similar delight, we must repeat that Eskimos are a simple folk, and easily pleased.

"Won't it be a tussle?" remarked Issek, who marched in the centre of a group of women.

"It will, for Ujarak is tough. He is like a walrus," responded an admirer of the wizard.

"Poo!" exclaimed the mother of