CHAPTER XXVIII
A HOPELESS TASK
A fearful task confronted the little party. Thirty miles of snow,several feet deep, lay between them and their only haven of refuge,and they were without sled or snow-shoe. If they succeeded in theirprodigious task, it must be done by sheer strength and the power ofcontinued desperation.
But, with compressed lips and the resolution to do or die, they bentto the work without faltering.
The Esquimau naturally took the lead to break the way so far as hecould; Jack Cosgrove came next, then Rob Carrol, while Fred Warburtonbrought up the rear.
The first move that the native made proved he was a veteran. Heplunged in, following the decline down to the plateau, which was thescene of their adventures two days before. He walked like one who hadonly an ordinary tramp before him. In truth, he could have gone fasterand done better, but he accommodated himself to his friends, to whomthe labor was new and trying to a degree.
None spoke for a long time. It requires strength to do even so slighta thing as that, and no one had an ounce to spare. The question thatwas uppermost in the minds of the three was whether they would be ableto hold out to the end.
"I don't see why we can't," reflected Fred, who, being at the rear,had an easier task than any of the others; "it would be well enough ifwe had snow-shoes, but neither Jack nor Rob nor I can use them, and wewould flounder around a good deal worse than we are doing now andlikely enough wouldn't get ahead at all."
The meditations of Rob Carrol were of a similar strain.
"I've seen better fun than this, but it beats staying in the cavernand freezing to death on wolf steak. I believe I'm strong enough tosee the business through; I hope Fred won't give out, for he isn't asstrong as Jack and I. I believe Docak enjoys it. Gracious! if I everlive to get out of this outlandish country, I'll never set foot in itagain. I haven't lost any North Pole, and those that think they havecan do their own hunting for it."
The sun still remained obscured, and the wonder of the three was howtheir guide kept his bearings, after debouching from the highlands andentering upon the broad, undulating plain which stretched away toDavis Strait and Baffin's Bay. There was no misgiving, however, inthat respect. Docak could not go astray, or, at least, if there wasany likelihood of his doing so, not one of his friends was able tohelp him.
As the boys had anticipated, the labor of walking in this difficultfashion soon generated a warmth in their bodies that was a vastcomfort, after sitting benumbed and shivering so long in the cavern.Despite the extreme cold they felt no discomfort, for the air wasquite dry, and less trying, therefore, than a damp atmosphere wouldhave been, even though twenty-five degrees higher.
But it is in such an Arctic climate that one can have his limbs or aportion of his body hopelessly frozen without suspecting it. All wereso effectually protected that only a small portion of their faces,their eyes, and tips of their noses were exposed.
The bear-skin, which has been referred to as belonging to Docak, wascarried by him after his usual manner. He would have offered it to hisfriends in turn, had he not known that it would soon have become aburden which he could carry better than they.
Jack, who trod close on the heels of the Esquimau, was admiring thesturdy manner in which he plowed through the snow, his labor beingmuch greater than any one of those who followed him, when the nativeturned his head and scanned his face with curious intensity. Pausingfor the moment in his labor, he leaned to one side, and did the sameto the others. His act was all the more singular since he did notspeak. The lads smiled under their head-coverings, but their faceswere so wrapped up that the relaxation of the features could not beperceived.
"I wonder why he did that," thought all three.
"The chap has been acting curious ever since this trouble began,"continued the sailor, "and I wouldn't be s'prised if he's just alittle off."
"Can it be," asked Rob, following up a whimsical idea, "that he fearswe aren't ourselves? He has started out to take us to the seacoast,and doesn't mean that anybody else shall rope himself in on him. Iguess he's satisfied, though we're so covered up that our nearestfriends wouldn't know us."
For fully an hour the party toiled on, and all, with the exception ofthe leader, began to feel the effects of the severe exertion. Still,no one protested or asked for rest; each determined to keep it up, ifpossible, until the leader chose to halt.
But Docak did not forget them. At the end of the time named he turnedabout, and, with something of his old pleasantry, said:
"Much tired--wait while--den go on."
Each of the boys longed to ask him what he thought of the prospect ofgetting through, but forebore, recalling his moodiness, which might bestill upon him despite his present manner.
"I think we're doing quite well, Docak," said Jack; "it's a littlehard, but we can take a breathing spell now and then, and keep at ittill we strike your home."
Had the Esquimau made any response to this half-inquiring remark thesailor would have followed it up, but he did not. On the contrary, hewas busy studying the sky and the surrounding landscape, doubtlesswith a view of determining what weather changes impended.
The others did the same, but though Jack had learned a good deal ofthe science at sea he was now at a loss. The dull, leaden sky, soobscured that it was impossible to tell in what part of the heavensthe sun was, told him nothing beyond the fact that more snow waslikely to fall before many hours.
As the best thing that could be done, the friends studied the actionsof the Esquimau.
The result of his survey was not satisfactory--that was clear. Heshook his head and muttered something in his own language, which hadanything but a pleasant effect on the others.
The scene was one of utter loneliness and desolation. North, east,south, and west stretched the snowy plain, unrelieved by tree, house,or sign of a living creature. Far up in the sky sounded the honk ofsome wild fowl, and, looking aloft, a line of black specks could beseen, sailing swiftly southward through space, as if to escape theArctic cold that would soon smother everything in its icy embrace.
The rest was barely ten minutes, when Docak, looking at hiscompanions, asked:
"Be rested? We go on?"
"Yes; we're ready," replied Jack.
"All right--work hard now--don't get tired."
"I won't, if I can help it; but the only way I know of is to standstill, which don't pay in this kind of business."
The Esquimau bent to his work, as if striving for a wager. He had away not only of stepping down in the soft snow, but of shoving itpartly aside from his path. It would have been the severest kind oflabor for anyone else, and it is hard to understand how he managed itso well. It was a great help to the one immediately behind him. Jackwould have been glad to lighten the task for the boys, but that wasout of his power, and he wasted no strength in the attempt.
The party was becoming accustomed to the work. That the guide wasaware of this was proven when he kept at it fully twice as long asbefore. They were going slowly--very slowly--but there was comfort inthe consciousness that every step taken was toward safety, and thetask before them was lessened, even to that small extent.
At the moment the boys were beginning to think it about time anotherhalt was called, Docak stopped in his former abrupt way, and, leaningto one side, peered into each face in turn.
Something in Fred's appearance caught his attention, and, with anexclamation, he sprang out of the path, and hurried back to where thelad stood, wondering what was the matter with the fellow.