The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole by R. M. Ballantyne (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

he moved quietly about at the edge of the reeds, and began to wonder whether the paradise above could exceed this paradise below!

Events occurred that day which proved to him that the sublunary paradise was, at least, woefully uncertain in its nature.

“Now, just keep still, will you, for one moment,” muttered Benjy, advancing cautiously through the outer margin of reeds, among the stems of which he peered earnestly while he cocked his gun.

The individual to whom he spoke made no reply, because it was a goose—would that it were thus with all geese! It was a grey goose of the largest size. It had caught a glimpse of the new and strange creature that was paddling about its home, and was wisely making for the shelter of a spot where the reeds were more dense, and where Benjy would not have dared to follow. For, it must be remembered that our young sportsman was sunk to his waist in water, and that the reeds rose high over his head, so that if once lost in the heart of them, he might have found it extremely difficult to find his way out again.

Anxious not to lose his chance, he gave vent to a loud shout. This had the effect of setting up innumerable flocks of wild-fowl, which, although unseen, had been lurking listeners to the strange though gentle sound of the water-tramp. Among them rose the grey goose with one or two unexpected comrades.

Benjy had not at that time acquired the power of self-restraint necessary to good shooting. He fired hastily, and missed with the first barrel. Discharging the second in hotter haste, he missed again, but brought down one of the comrades by accident. This was sufficiently gratifying. Picking it up, he placed it on the boat-buoy in front of him to balance several ducks which already lay on the part in rear. He might have carried a dozen geese on his novel hunting-dress, if there had been room for them, for its floating power was sufficient to have borne up himself, and at least four, if not five, men.

Pursuing his way cautiously and gently, by means of the webbed feet alone, the young sportsman moved about like a sly water-spirit among the reeds, sometimes addressing a few pleasant words, such as, “how d’ye do, old boy,” or, “don’t alarm yourself, my tulip,” to a water-hen or a coot, or some such bird which crossed his path, but was unworthy of his shot; at other times stopping to gaze contemplatively through the reed stems, or to float and rest in placid enjoyment, while he tried to imagine himself in a forest of water-trees.

Everywhere the feathered tribes first gazed at him in mute surprise; then hurried, with every variety of squeak, and quack, and fluttering wing, from his frightful presence.

Suddenly he came in sight of a bird so large that his heart gave a violent leap, and the gun went almost of its own accord to his shoulder, but the creature disappeared among the reeds before he could take aim. Another opening, however, again revealed it fully to view! It was a swan—a hyperborean wild swan!

Just as he made this discovery, the great bird, having observed Benjy, spread its enormous wings and made off with an amazing splutter.

Bang! went Benjy’s gun, both barrels in quick succession, and down fell the swan quite dead, with its head in the water and its feet pointing to the sky.

“What a feast the Eskimos will have to-night!” was Benjy’s first thought as he tramped vehemently towards his prize.

But his overflowing joy was rudely checked, for, having laid his gun down in front of him, for the purpose of using the paddle with both hands, it slipped to one side, tilted up, and, disappearing like an arrow in the lake, went to the bottom.

The sinking of Benjy’s heart was not less complete. He had the presence of mind, however, to seize the reeds near him and check his progress at the exact spot. Leaning over the side of his little craft, he beheld his weapon quivering, as it were, at the bottom, in about eight feet of water. What was to be done? The energetic youth was not long in making up his mind on that point. He would dive for it. But diving in the water-tramp was out of the question. Knowing that it was all but impossible to make his way to the shore through the reeds, he resolved to reach the opposite shore, which was in some places free from vegetation. Seizing one of the reeds, he forced it down, and tied it into a knot to mark the spot where his loss had happened. He treated several more reeds in this way till he gained the open water outside, thus marking his path. Then he paddled across the lake, landed, undressed, and swam out again, pushing the empty dress before him, intending to use it as a resting-place.

On reaching the spot, he dived with a degree of vigour and agility worthy of a duck, but found it hard to reach the bottom, as he was not much accustomed to diving. For the same reason he found it difficult to open his eyes under water, so as to look for the gun. While trying to do so, a desperate desire to breathe caused him to leap to the surface, where he found that he had struggled somewhat away from the exact spot. After a few minutes’ rest, he took a long breath and again went down; but found, to his dismay, that in his first dive he had disturbed the mud, and thus made the water thick. Groping about rendered it thicker, and he came to the surface the second time with feelings approaching to despair. Besides which, his powers were being rapidly exhausted.

But Benjy was full of pluck as well as perseverance. Feeling that he could not hold out much longer, he resolved to make the next attempt with more care—a resolve, it may be remarked, which it would have been better to have made at first.

He swam to the knotted reed, considered well the position he had occupied when his loss occurred, took an aim at a definite spot with his head, and went down. The result was that his hands grasped the stock of the gun the moment they reached the bottom.

Inflated with joy he leaped with it to the surface like a bladder; laid it carefully on the water-dress, and pushing the latter before him soon succeeded in getting hold of the dead swan. The bird was too heavy to be lifted on the float, he therefore grasped its neck with his teeth, and thus, heavily weighted, made for the shore.

It will not surprise the reader to be told that Benjy felt hungry as well as tired after these achievements, and this induced him to look anxiously for Leo, and to wonder why the smoke of Oblooria’s cooking-lamp was not to be seen anywhere.

The engrossing nature of the events just described had prevented our little hero from observing that a smart breeze had sprung up, and that heavy clouds had begun to drive across the hitherto blue sky, while appearances of a very squally nature were gathering on the windward horizon. Moreover, while engaged in paddling among the reeds he had not felt the breeze.

It was while taking off the water-tramp that he became fully alive to these facts.

“That’s it,” he muttered to himself. “They’ve been caught by this breeze and been delayed by having had to pull against it, or perhaps the walruses gave them more trouble than they expected.”

Appeasing his appetite as well as he could with this reflection, he left the water-tramp on the ground, with the dripping gun beside it, and hurried to the highest part of the island. Although not much of an elevation, it enabled him to see all round, and a feeling of anxiety filled his breast as he observed that the once glassy sea was ruffled to the colour of indigo, while wavelets flecked it everywhere, and no boat was visible!

“They may have got behind some of the islands,” he thought, and continued his look-out for some time, with growing anxiety and impatience, however, because the breeze was by that time freshening to a gale.

When an hour had passed away the poor boy became thoroughly alarmed.

“Can anything have happened to the boat?” he said to himself. “The india-rubber is easily cut. Perhaps they may have been blown out to sea!”

This latter thought caused an involuntary shudder. Looking round, he observed that the depression of the sun towards the horizon indicated that night had set in.

“This will never do,” he suddenly exclaimed aloud. “Leo will be lost. I must risk it!”

Turning as he spoke, he ran back to the spot where he had left the water-dress, which he immediately put on. Then, leaving gun and game on the beach, he boldly entered the sea, and struck out with feet and paddle for Poloeland.

Although sorely buffeted by the rising waves, and several times overwhelmed, his waterproof costume proved well able to bear him up, and with comparatively little fatigue he reached the land in less than two hours. Without waiting to take the dress off, he ran up to the Eskimo village and gave the alarm.

While these events were going on among the islets, Captain Vane and Alphonse Vandervell had been far otherwise engaged.

“Come, Alf,” said the Captain, that same morning, after Leo and his party had started on their expedition, “let you and me go off on a scientific excursion,—on what we may style a botanico-geologico-meteorological survey.”

“With all my heart, uncle, and let us take Butterface with us, and Oolichuk.”

“Ay, lad, and Ivitchuk and Akeetolik too, and Chingatok if you will, for I’ve fixed on a spot whereon to pitch an observatory, and we must set to work on it without further delay. Indeed I would have got it into working order long ago if it had not been for my hope that the cessation of this miserable war would have enabled us to get nearer the North Pole this summer.”

The party soon started for the highest peak of the island of Poloe—or Poloeland, as Alf preferred to call it. Oolichuk carried on his broad shoulders one of those mysterious cases out of which the Captain was so fond of taking machines wherewith to astonish the natives.

Indeed it was plain to see that the natives who accompanied them on this occasion expected some sort of surprise, despite the Captain’s earnest assurance that there was nothing in the box except a few meteorological instruments. How the Captain translated to the Eskimos the word meteorological we have never been able to ascertain. His own explanation is that he did it in a roundabout manner which they failed to comprehend, and which he himself could not elucidate.

On the way up the hill, Alf made several interesting discoveries of plants which were quite new to him.

“Ho! stop, I say, uncle,” he exclaimed for the twentieth time that day, as he picked up some object of interest.

“What now, lad?” said the Captain, stopping and wiping his heated brow.

“Here is another specimen of these petrifactions—look!”

“He means a vegetable o’ some sort turned to stone, Chingatok,” explained the Captain, as he examined the specimen with an interested though unscientific eye.

“You remember, uncle, the explanation I gave you some time ago,” said the enthusiastic Alf, “about Professor Heer of Zurich, who came to the conclusion that primeval forests once existed in these now treeless Arctic regions, from the fossils of oak, elm, pine, and maple leaves discovered there. Well, I found a fossil of a plane leaf the other day,—not a very good one, to be sure—and now, here is a splendid specimen of a petrified oak-leaf. Don’t you trace it quite plainly?”

“Well, lad,” returned the Captain, frowning at the specimen, “I do believe you’re right. There does seem to be the mark of a leaf there, and there is