As winter advanced, Captain Vane continued to keep up the interest of the Eskimos, and to increase their respect for the Kablunets, by gradually unfolding the various sources of power which were at his command.
He did this judiciously, just giving them a taste of the marvellous now and then to whet their appetites. He was particularly careful, however not to practise on their credulity or to pass himself off as a conjuror. He distinctly stated that all his powers were derived from God,—their father and his,—and that he only excelled them in some matters because of having had better opportunities of acquiring knowledge.
Among other things, he effected an adaptation of his kites which produced results so surprising that we feel bound to describe them particularly.
During the winter he found, as he had expected, that the average temperature at the Pole was not nearly so cold as that experienced in lower latitudes. As far as mere feeling went, indeed, the cold seemed severe enough; nevertheless it was not sufficiently intense to freeze the great ocean, which remained an “open basin” all the year round,—a result which was doubtless owing to the upflow of the warm under-currents from the equator, referred to in a previous chapter.
This, however, did not apply to the waters lying directly around the Poloe and Flatland groups. In these archipelagos the waters being shallow, the frost was quite intense enough to cool them to the bottom. Hence the sea immediately round the islands was covered with a thick coat of solid ice, which resembled in all respects the ordinary Arctic sea-ice, being hummocky in some places, comparatively smooth in others, with a strong iceberg here and there caught and imprisoned amongst it.
As this ice surrounded all the Polar land, and stretched out to sea far beyond the reach of vision, it followed that there was little or no difference between the winter experience of our discoverers and that of all other Arctic voyagers. This realm of what we may style island-ice stretched away, all round, in the direction of the Arctic circle, getting thinner and thinner towards its outer margin, until at last it became sludgy, and, finally, melted away into the open sea. This open sea, in its turn, stretched southward, all round, to the known Arctic regions. Thus the Arctic basin was found to be a zone of open water, surrounded by ice on the south, and with a patch of ice and land in its centre.
Now, it was a strong desire on the part of Captain Vane to visit the southern edge of this central ice-patch on which he dwelt, that induced him to try the kite adaptation before referred to.
“Benjy, my boy,” said he, one fine winter day, when the galaxy of stars, the full moon, and an unusually brilliant aurora, diffused a strong light over the undulations of Cup Valley, “I have a notion of taking a trip to the s’uth’ard soon.”
“Which s’uth’ard d’you think of going to, father?” asked the boy.
In case any reader should hastily exclaim, “What a ridiculous question; there can be only one southward!” we beg leave to point out that at the North Pole every direction lies to the southward, and that, as there is necessarily no east or west at all, there is therefore no possibility of stating by compass to what part of the south one intends to go. Of course it was open to the Captain to have said he intended to descend south on one of the degrees of longitude, or between any two of them, and then, immediately on quitting the Pole the old familiar east and west would, as it were, return to him. But he found it more convenient, on the whole, having got beyond all latitude, to indicate his intended route by well-known objects of the land.
“I’m going to steer for the starboard side of Poloeland,” he said, “pay a short visit to Grabantak and Amalatok in passing, and then carry on south to the open water.”
“It’ll be a longish trip, father.”
“Not so long as you expect, my boy, for I mean to go by express.”
Benjy’s eyes twinkled, for he knew that some new device was working in his father’s brain, which brain never failed to bring its plans to maturity.
“What is it to be, father?”
“You go and fetch two of the kites, Benjy, and you’ll soon find out. Overhaul them well and see that everything is taut and shipshape. Let Butterface help you, and send Alf and Chingatok to me. I suppose Leo is off after musk-oxen, as usual.”
“Yes; he pretends that the camp wants a supply of fresh meat. He’d pretend that as an excuse for hunting even if we were all dying of surfeit.”
Soon afterwards the Captain was seen, followed by his usual companions and a company of Eskimos, dragging two sledges to the upper ridge of Cup Valley. One sledge was lightly, the other heavily, laden.
“You’ve brought plenty of supplies, I hope, Alf?” asked the leader.
“Yes, enough for three weeks. Will that do?”
“Quite enough, lad; but it may not be wanted, as I’m going south in a direction we’ve not yet tried, where I expect to find the open water close to us. It’s well, however, to have enough of meat at all times.”
“No fear of its being too much, father,” said Benjy. “When Butterface goes with us, a three weeks’ allowance usually disappears in a fortnight.”
“Nebber mind, Massa,” said the negro seriously. “You’ve plenty for tree weeks dis time, ’cause I’s off my feed. Got Polar dimspepsy, or suffin’ o’ dat sort, I tink.”
“You’ve brought the electrical machine, of course, and the dynamite, Alf?” asked the Captain.
“Of course. I never prepare for a trip without these. There’s no saying, you see, when we may require them—either to blow up obstructions or astonish the natives.”
“The natives are past astonishing now,” remarked Benjy; “nothing short of a ten thousand jar battery would astonish Chingatok, and I’m quite sure that you couldn’t rouse a sentiment of surprise in Oolichuk, unless you made him swallow a dynamite cartridge, and blew him inside out. But, I say, daddy, how long are you going to keep us in the dark about your plans? Don’t you see that we are in agonies of suspense?”
“Only till we gain the ridge, Benjy. It will be down-hill after that, and the snow-crust comparatively smooth as well as hard.”
Arrived at the ridge, one of the kites was unfolded and sent up. The breeze was steady, and sufficiently strong. It took twenty Eskimos to hold it when allowed full play, and even these it jerked about in a manner that highly diverted them. These Eskimos were very fond of kite-flying, for its own sake, without reference to utility!
“I knew you were going to try it on the sledge,” exclaimed Benjy, with sparkling eyes.
“Why did you ask me about it, then?” returned the Captain.
“Do let me make the first trial, father!”
Captain Vane was fastening the drag-line to the fore part of the light sledge, and refused, at first, to listen to the boy’s entreaties, fearing that some accident might befall him.
“You know how accustomed I am to manage the kites, father. There’s not the least fear; and I’ll be superhumanly cautious.”
There was no resisting Benjy’s tone and eyes. He was allowed to take his place on the sledge as manager. Butterface sat behind to steer. Steering was to be managed by means of a stout pole, pressed varyingly on the snow on either side.
“Don’t go more than a mile or so, my boy,” said the Captain, in a serious tone. “It’s only a trial, you know. If it succeeds, we’ll divide the loading of the sledges, and make a fair start in company.”
Benjy promised to manipulate the check-string with care. The struggling natives were ordered to let the kite straighten the slack of the line gradually.
“Are you ready, Ben?”
“All right, father.”
“Got your hand on the check-string? Mind, it will pull hard. Now—let go!”
The natives obeyed. Benjy at the same instant hauled sharply on the check-string, intending to tilt the kite well forward, and start in a slow, stately manner, but there was a hitch of some sort somewhere, for the string would not act. The kite acted, however, with its full force. Up went the fore part of the sledge as it flew off like an arrow from a bow, causing Butterface to throw a back somersault, and leaving him behind.
Benjy held on to the head of the sledge, and made violent efforts to free the check-string. Fortunately, the surface of the snow was smooth.
“After him, lads,” roared the Captain, setting a brave example, and for some time heading the natives in the chase; but a few moments sufficed to prove the hopelessness of the race.
Tug as Benjy would at the regulator, it refused to act. Fortunately, being made of silk, it did not break. By this time the kite had attained its maximum speed, equal, as the Captain said, to a twenty-knot breeze. At first the surface of the snow was so smooth and hard, that Benjy, being busy with the obdurate regulator, did not appreciate the speed.
When he gave up his attempts with a sigh of despair, he had leisure to look around him. The sledge was gliding on with railway speed. One or two solitary hummocks that looked like white sentinels on the level plain, went past him with an awful rush, and several undulations caused by snow-drift were crossed in a light leap which he barely felt. Benjy was fully aware of his danger. To meet with a hummock no bigger than a wheelbarrow, would, in the circumstances, have entailed destruction; he therefore seized a pole which formed part of the sledge-gear, and tried steering. It could be done, but with great difficulty, as he had to sit in the front of the sledge to keep it down.
Recklessly jovial though he was, the boy could not contemplate his probable fate without misgiving. Nothing was visible in all the white illimitable plain save a hummock here and there, with a distant berg on the horizon. He could not expect the level character of the ice to extend far. Whither was he going? South he knew; but in that direction, his father had often told him, lay the open sea. The moon seemed to smile on him; the aurora appeared to dance with unwonted vigour, as if in glee; the very stars winked at him!
“What if a chasm or a big hummock should turn up?” thought Benjy.
The thought seemed to produce the dreaded object, for next moment a large hummock appeared right ahead. Far away though it was, the awful pace brought it quickly near. The poor boy struggled—he absolutely agonised—with the pole. His efforts were successful. The hummock went past like a meteor, but it was a horribly close shave, and Benjy felt his very marrow shrink, while he drew himself up into the smallest possible compass to let it go by.
A bump soon after told that the ice was getting more rugged. Then he saw a ridge before him. Was it large or small? Distance, the uncertain light, and imagination, magnified it to a high wall; high as the wall of China. In wild alarm our hero tugged at the regulator, but tugged in vain. The wall of China was upon him—under him. There was a crash. The sledge was in the air. Moments appeared minutes! Had the vehicle been suddenly furnished with wings? No! Another crash, which nearly shut up his spine like a telescope, told him that there were no wings. His teeth came together with a snap. Happily his tongue was not between them! Happily, too, the sledge did not overturn, but continued its furious flight.
“Oh, you villain!” exclaimed Benjy, shaking his fist at the airy monster which was thus dragging him to destruction.
If Benjy had been asked to state the truth just then, he would have found it hard to say whether consternation or delight were uppermost. It was such a glorious rush! But then, how was it to end? Well, he did not dare to think of that. Indeed he had not time to think, for troubles came crowding on him. A violent “swish!” and a sudden deluge told him that what he had taken for glassy ice was open water. It was only a shallow pool, however. Next moment he was across it, and bumping violently over a surface of broken ice.
The water suggested the fear that he must be nearing the open sea, and he became supernaturally grave. Fortunately, the last crash had been passed without dislocating the parts of either sledge or rider. A long stretch of smooth ice followed, over which he glided with ever-increasing speed.
Thus he continued to rush over the frozen sea during a considerable part of that night.
Poor Benjy! he became half-mad with excitement at last. The exaltation of his little spirit at the risky neck-or-nothing dash, coupled with horror at the certainty of a terrible climax, was almost too much for him. He gave vent to his feelings in a wild cheer or yell, and, just then, beheld an iceberg of unusual size, looming up on the horizon before him. Knowing by experience that he would soon be up to it, he used his pole with all his might, hoping to steer clear of it. As he drew nearer, he saw a dark line on either side of the berg. A feeling of deadly alarm filled him. It was the open sea! and he had to choose between being plunged into it or dashed against the berg. It occurred to him then, for the first time, that a third resource was open—he might cut the rope, and let the kite go free! Amazed at his stupidity in not thinking of this before, he took out his clasp-knife, but before applying it, made a last effort to move the regulator. Strange to say, the silken cord yielded to the first pull, as if nothing had been wrong with it at all! The head of the runaway kite was thrown forward, and it came wavering down in eccentric gyrations, while the sledge gradually lost way, and came to a standstill not fifty yards from the berg.
Up to this point what may be termed the northern island-ice continued unbroken, but beyond the berg it was broken up into floes, and, not six hundred yards out, it tailed away to the southward in what whalers term stream-ice. The berg itself was obviously aground.
The first object that met Benjy’s eyes, after coming to a halt, was an enormous polar bear. This was no strange sight to the boy by that time, but it was awkward in the circumstances, for he had neither gun nor spear. Even if he had possessed the latter he was too young and light to cope successfully with the shaggy white king of Arctic beasts.
From the attitude of the animal it appeared to be watching something. In truth, it was so intently engaged with a sleeping seal that it had not observed the approach of the sledge. Profiting by this, Benjy quietly moved away round a colossal buttress of the berg, and took refuge in an ice-cave. But such refuge, he knew, could avail him nothing if the bear should scent him out and search for him. Looking hastily round and up into the dark blue cavern, he espied a projecting ledge of ice about thirteen feet above the level of the floor. On this he resolved to perch himself.
His first care was to examine the contents of the sledge. We have said it had been lightly laden at starting, which was the reason of the tremendous pace at which it travelled. Although there was neither spear nor gun, the anxious boy was somewhat comforted to find an axe strapped in its accustomed place; also a blanket, sleeping-bag, and musk-ox skin, besides a mass of frozen blubber, but there was nothing else of an eatable nature. There was, however, a box containing the captain’s sextant, the electrical machine, and a packet of dynamite cartridges.
Regarding these latter objects with a sigh of disappointment, Benjy seized the axe and hastened towards the ledge of ice, muttering to himself in a confidential tone—
“You see, old boy, if that bear takes a fancy to call on you, it will be as well to be able to say, ‘Not at home,’ for he could make short work of you, much though you think of yourself. Yes, this ledge is high enough to bid you defiance, mister bear, and it’s long and broad enough to hold me and my belongings. The knobs by which to climb to it, too, are easy—too easy—but I’ll soon rectify that. Now, then, look alive, Benjy, boy, for if that bear don’t catch that seal he’ll be sure to look you up.”
Ceasing to speak, he actively conveyed the contents of the sledge to his shelf of refuge. Then he cut away the knobs by which he climbed to it, until there was barely sufficient for his own tiny toes to rest on. That done, he went to the mouth of the cavern to look about him.
What he saw there may be guessed from the fact that he returned next moment, running at full speed, stumbling over ice lumps, bumping his shins and knees, dropping his axe, and lacerating his knuckles. He had met the bear! Need we add that he gained his perch with the agility of a tree-squirrel!
The bear, surprised, no doubt, but obviously sulky from the loss of the seal, entered the cave sedately with an inquiring look. It saw Benjy at once, and made prodigious efforts to get at him. As the monster rose on its hind legs and reached its paws towards his shelf, the poor boy’s spirit seemed to melt, indeed his whole interior felt as if reduced to a warm fluid, while a prickly heat broke out at his extremities, perspiration beaded his brow, and his heart appeared to have settled permanently in his throat.
These distressing symptoms did not, however, last long, for he quickly perceived that the bear’s utmost stretch did not reach nearer than three or four feet of him. Some of the alarm returned, however, when the creature attempted to climb up by his own ladder. Seven or eight times it made the attempt, while the boy watched in breathless anxiety, but each time it slipped when half-way up, and fell with a soft heavy thud on the ice below, which caused it to gasp and cough. Then it sat down on its haunches and gazed at its little foe malignantly.
“Bah! you brute!” exclaimed Benjy, whose courage was returning, “I’m not a bit afraid of you!” He leant against the wall of his refuge, notwithstanding this boast, and licked the ice to moisten his parched lips.
After a rest the bear made another trial, and twice it succeeded in planting the claws of one huge paw on the edge of the shelf, but Benjy placed his heel against the claws, thrust them off, and sent the bear down each time howling with disappointment.
Sailing softly among the constellations in the aurora-lighted sky, the moon sent a bright ray into the cavern, which gleamed on the monster’s wicked eyes and glistening teeth; but Benjy had begun to feel comparatively safe by that time, and was becoming “himself again.”
“Don’t you wish you may get me?” he asked in a desperately facetious spirit.
The bear made no reply, but turned to examine the contents of the ice-cave. First he went to the hatchet and smelt it. In doing so he cut his nose. With a growl he gave the weapon an angry pat, and in so doing cut his toes. We fear that Benjy rejoiced at the sight of blood, for he chuckled and made the sarcastic remark, “That comes of losing your temper, old fellow!”
That bear either understood English, or the very sound of the human voice caused it irritation, for it turned and rushed at the ice-ledge with such fury that Benjy’s heart again leaped into his throat. He had, however, recovered sufficiently to enable him to act with promptitude and discretion. Sitting down with his right foot ready, and his hands resting firmly on the ice behind him, he prepared to receive the charge in the only available manner. So fierce was the onset that the monster ran up the ice-cliff like a cat, and succeeded in fixing the terrible claws of both feet on the edge of the shelf, but the boy delivered his right heel with such force that the left paw slipped off. The left heel followed like lightning, and the right paw also slipped, letting the bear again fall heavily on the ice below.
This was more than even a bear could bear. He rushed savagely about the cavern, growling hideously, dashing the sledge about as if it had been a mere toy, and doing all the mischief he could, yet always avoiding the axe with particular care—thus showing that polar bears, not less than men, are quite awake to personal danger, even when supposed to be blind with rage! At last he lay down to recover himself, and lick his bloody nose and paw.
While Benjy sat contemplating this creature, and wondering what was to be the end of it all, a bright idea occurred to him. He rose quickly, took the electrical machine out of its box, and happily found it to be in good working order—thanks to Alf, who had special charge of the scientific instruments, and prided himself on the care with which he attended to them. The bear watched him narrowly with its wicked little eyes, though it did not see fit to cease its paw-licking.
Having arranged the machine, Benjy took the two handles in his left hand, pressed his knee on the board of the instrument to hold it steady, and with his right hand caused it to revolve. Then he held down the handles as if inviting the bear to come and take them.
The challenge was accepted at once. Bruin cantered up, rose on his hind legs, and stretched his neck to its utmost, but could not reach the handles, though the boy stretched downward as far as possible to accommodate him. The dirty-white monster whined and snickered with intense feeling at thus finding itself so near, and yet so far, from the attainment of its object.
Sympathising with its desires, Benjy changed his posture, and managed just to touch the nose of his enemy. The bear shrank back with a sort of gasp, appalled—at least shocked—by the result! After a little, not feeling much the worse for it, the brute returned as if to invite another electric shock—perhaps with some sinister design in view. But another and a brighter idea had entered Benjy’s brain. Instead of giving the bear a shock, he tore off a small bit of seal-blubber from the mass at his side, which he dropped into its mouth. It swallowed that morsel with satisfaction, and waited for more. Benjy gave it more. Still it wanted more.
“You shall have it, my boy,” said Benjy, whose eyes assumed that peculiar glare of glee which always presaged some desperate intention.
He opened another small box, and found what he wanted. It was a small object scarcely a couple of inches in length. He fastened the wires of the electric machine quickly to it, and then imbedded it in a small piece of blubber which he lowered, as before, to the bear.
“You’ll probably break the wires or smash the machine, but I’ll risk that,” muttered Benjy through his set teeth. “I only hope you won’t chew it, because dynamite mayn’t be palatable. There—down with it!”
The bear happily bolted the morsel. The wires seemed to perplex him a little, but before he had time to examine the mystery, the boy gave the instrument a furious turn.
Instantly there was a stupendous crash like a very thunderbolt. The bear burst like an overcharged cannon! Benjy and the berg collided, and at that moment everything seemed to the former to vanish away in smoke, leaving not even a wrack behind!
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