5. BATTLE ON THE FLOE
Helpless, Polaris stood at the brink of the rift, swirling water andtossing ice throwing the spray about him in clouds. Here was oppositionagainst which his naked strength was useless. As if they realized thatthey were being parted from the firm land, the dogs grouped at the edgeof the floe and sent their dismal howls across the raging swirl, only tobe drowned by the din of the crashing icebergs.
Turning, Polaris saw Rose Emer. She stood at the doorway of the tent ofskins, staring across the wind-swept channel with a blank despairlooking from her eyes.
"Ah, all is lost, now!" she gasped.
Then the great spirit of the man rose into spoken words. "No, lady," hecalled, his voice rising clearly above the shrieking and thunderingpandemonium. "We yet have our lives."
As he spoke there was a rending sound at his feet. The dogs sprang backin terror and huddled against the face of the ice cliff. Torn away bythe impact of some weightier body beneath, nearly half of the ledgewhere they stood was split from the main body of the floe, and plunged,heaving and crackling into the current.
Polaris saved himself by a mighty spring. Right in the path of the gashlay the sledge, and it hung balanced at the edge of the ice floe. Downit swung, and would have slipped over, but Polaris saw it going.
He clutched at the ends of the leathern dog-harness as they glided fromhim across the ice, and, with a tug, into which he put all the power ofhis splendid muscles, he retrieved the sledge. Hardly had he dragged itto safety when, with another roar of sundered ice, their foothold gapedagain and left them but a scanty shelf at the foot of the beetling berg.
"Here we may not stay, lady," said Polaris. He swept the tent and itsrobes into his arms and piled them on the sledge. Without waiting toharness the dogs, he grasped the leather bands and alone pulled the loadalong the ledge and around a shoulder of the cliff.
At the other side of the cliff a ridge extended between the berg whichthey skirted and another towering mountain of ice of similar formation.Beyond the twin bergs lay the level plane of the floe, its edgescontinually frayed by the attack of the waves and the onset of floatingice.
Along the incline of the ridge were several hollows partially filledwith drift snow. Knowing that on the ice cape, in such a tempest, theymust soon perish miserably, Polaris made camp in one of thesedepressions where the deep snow tempered the chill of its foundation.
In the clutch of the churning waters the floe turned slowly like animmense wheel as it drifted in the current. Its course was away from theshore to the southwest, and it gathered speed and momentum with everypassing second. The cove from whence it had been torn was already a merenotch in the faraway shore line.
Around them was a scene of wild and compelling beauty. Leagues andleagues of on-rushing water hurled its white-crested squadrons againstthe precipitous sides of the flotilla of icebergs, tore at the edges ofthe drifting floes, and threw itself in huge waves across the more levelplanes, inundating them repeatedly. Clouds of lacelike spray hung in theair after each attack, and cascading torrents returned to the waves.
Above it all the Antarctic sun shone gloriously, splintering its goldenspears on the myriad pinnacles, minarets, battlements, and crags oftowering masses of crystal that reflected back into the quivering airall the colors of the spectrum. Thinner crests blazed flame-red in therays. Other points glittered coldly blue. From a thousand lesserscintillating spires the shifting play of the colors, from vermilion topurple, from green to gold, in the lavish magnificence of nature'smagic, was torture to the eye that beheld.
On the spine of the ridge stood Polaris, leaning on his long spear andgazing with heightened color and gleaming eyes on those fairy symbols ofold mother nature. To the girl who watched him he seemed to complete thepicture. In his superb trappings of furs, and surrounded by his shaggyservants, he was at one with his weird and terrible surroundings. Sheadmired--and shuddered.
Presently, when he came down from the ridge, she asked him, with a bravesmile, "What, sir, will be the next move?"
"That is in the hands of the great God, if such a one there be," hesaid. "Whatever it may be, it shall find us ready. Somewhere we mustcome to shore. When we do--on to the north and the ship, be it half aworld away."
"But for food and warmth? We must have those, if we are to go in theflesh."
"Already they are provided for," he replied quickly. He was peeringsharply over her shoulder toward the mass of the other berg. With hiswords the clustered pack set up an angry snarling and baying. Shefollowed his glance and paled.
Lumbering forth from a narrow pass at the extremity of the ridge was agigantic polar bear. His little eyes glittered wickedly, hungrily, andhis long, red tongue crept out and licked his slavering chops. As hecame on, with ungainly, padding gait, his head swung ponderously to andfro.
Scarcely had he cleared the pass of his immense bulk when anothertwitching white muzzle was protruded, and a second beast, in size nearlyequal to the first, set foot on the ridge and ambled on to the attack.
Reckless at least of this peril, the dogs would have leaped forward toclose with the invaders but their master intervened. The stinging,cracking lash in his hand drove them from the foe. Their overlord, man,elected to make the battle alone.
In two springs he reached the sledge, tore the rifle from its coverings,and was at the side of the girl. He thrust the weapon into her hands.
"Back, lady; back to the sledge!" he cried. "Unless I call, shoot not.If you do shoot, aim for the throat when they rear, and leave the restto me and the dogs. Many times have I met these enemies, and I know wellhow to deal with them."
With another crack of the whip over the heads of the snarling pack, heleft her and bounded forward, spear in hand and long knife bared.
Awkward of pace and unhurried, the snow kings came on to their feast. Ina thought the man chose his ground. Between him and the bears the ridgenarrowed so that for a few feet there was footway for but one of themonsters at once.
Polaris ran to where that narrow path began and threw himself on hisface on the ice.
At that ruse the foremost bear hesitated. He reared and brushed hismuzzle with his formidable crescent-clawed paw. Polaris might have shotthen and ended at once the hardest part of his battle. But the man heldto a stubborn pride in his own weapons. Both of the beasts he wouldslay, if he might, as he always had slain. His guns were reserved fordire extremity.
The bear settled to all fours again, and reached out a cautious paw andfelt along the path, its claws gouging seams in the ice. Assured thatthe footing would hold, it crept out on the narrow way, nearer andnearer to the motionless man. Scarce a yard from him it squatted. Thesteam of its breath beat toward him.
It raised one armed paw to strike. The girl cried out in terror andraised the rifle. The man moved, and she hesitated.
Down came the terrible paw, its curved claws projected and compressedfor the blow. It struck only the adamantine ice of the pathway,splintering it. With the down stroke timed to the second, the man hadleaped up and forward.
As though set on a steel spring, he vaulted into the air, above theclashing talons and gnashing jaws, and landed light and sure on the backof his ponderous adversary. To pass an arm under the bear's throat, toclip its back with the grip of his legs was the work of a heart-beat'stime for Polaris.
With a stifled howl of rage the bear rose to its haunches, and the manrose with it. He gave it no time to turn or settle. Exerting his musclesof steel, he tugged the huge head back. He swung clear from the body ofhis foe. His feet touched the path and held it. He shot one knee intothe back of the bear.
The spear he had dropped when he sprang, but his long knife gleamed inhis hand, and he stabbed, once, twice, sending the blade home under thebrute's shoulder. He released his grip; spurned the yielding body withhis foot, and the huge hulk rolled from the path down the slope,crimsoning the snow with its blood.
Polaris bounded across the narrow ledge and regained his spear. Hesmiled as there arose f
rom the foot of the slope a hideous clamor thattold him that the pack had charged in, as usual, not to be restrained atsight of the kill. He waved his hand to the girl, who stood, statuelike,beside the sledge.
Doubly enraged at its inability to participate in the battle which hadbeen the death of its mate, the smaller bear waited no longer when thepath was clear, but rushed madly with lowered head. Strong as he was,the man knew that he could not hope to stay or turn that avalanche offlesh and sinew. As it reached him he sprang aside where the pathbroadened, lashing out with his keen-edged spear.
His aim was true. Just over one of the small eyes the point of the spearbit deep, and blood followed it. With tigerish agility the man leapedover the beast, striking down as he did so.
The bear reared on its hindquarters and whimpered, brushing at its eyeswith its forepaws. Its head gashed so that the flowing blood blinded it,it was beaten. Before it stood its master. Bending back until his bodyarched like a drawn bow, Polaris poised his spear and thrust home at thebroad chest.
A death howl that was echoed back from the crashing cliffs was answer tohis stroke. The bear settled forward and sprawled in the snow.
Polaris set his foot on the body of the fallen monster and gazed down atthe girl with smiling face.
"Here, lady, are food and warmth for many days," he called.
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